Sappy Lyric Day

OK, so looking at those John Hughes films from the '80s got my sleep-deprived brain working in the dead letter department, and I went and pulled out my copy of The Beat - Special Beat Service (thanks to Gordon for the replacement copy). It was one of those chosen few albums in heavy rotation in our cars when Sam & I were dating. Well I shouldn't really say "few", since we were musical gluttons. But if you'd been riding along in Sam's Arrow in 1985, here's a sampling of the cassettes you would have found on the floor:

Madness (best of)
The Police (everything)
Sting (Dream of the Blue Turtles)
The Beat (Special Beat Service, Just Can't Stop It)
Howard Jones (Human's Lib, Dream Into Action)
Flock of Seagulls (the first two albums on 1 tape)
Sparks (In Outer Space)
Depeche Mode (People Are People)
Shriekback (Oil & Gold) - (Any band who can use the word "parthenogenesis" in a song gets my vote!)
Yello (Stella)
Boomtown Rats (In the Long Grass)
Marillion (Misplaced Childhood)
Love & Rockets (Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven)
Oingo Boingo (Good For Your Soul, Dead Man's Party)
Danny Elfman (So-Lo)
Repo Man (soundtrack)
A-Ha (Hunting High & Low)
Queen (best of)
Tears For Fears (Songs From the Big Chair)
Psychedelic Furs (Mirror Moves)
David Bowie (Let's Dance, Tonight)
Berlin (Pleasure Victim, Love Life)
Missing Persons (Spring Session M, Rhyme and Reason)

...Add to that a smattering of my obscuria (at the time), like Art of Noise, The Replacements, Kate Bush and pre-So Peter Gabriel, plus some leftover Scorpions, Judas Priest, Led Zeppelin and some showtunes (a dead giveaway that you're in an actor's car).

Aaaaaaanyway, the point being that when Sam & I would go to the Baylands in Palo Alto to make out in my (dad's) '81 Oldsmobile with the big back seat (like this, only white/beige - we called it El Presidente), inevitably a tape from one of our respective collections would be providing the soundtrack for our own real-life John Hughes movie (seriously - replace Chicago with San Francisco and slightly fewer bold pranks, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off *was* my senior year in high school). So whenever I hear "End of the Party" by The Beat, with Dave Wakeling's very '80s crooner voice dramatically professing love for the girl in question, I flash back to those times. More fondly now, not quite as painful. I just thought I would share some of that history. Sappy? Sure. Like I said, we lived in a John Hughes movie.

She said to leave it till
the end of the party
Do it now, you know
there's never a next time
How come the feeling
that it's only just started
Pull back your cover,
I could love you for all time
But do it now,
you know there's never a next time.

The bees are busy,
Now there's gold on the hill
The branches waving
But our hearts are wrapped up inside
And then you leave me,
so I start missing you a lot
No argument oh do I love you or not
No argument,
you have all the love that I see as mine
Pull back your cover,
I could love you for all time
But do it now
you know there's never a next time.

You know Wakeling was speaking to a whole generation of kids coming of age at the time, otherwise why would Hughes have crammed his soundtracks with so many of his songs?

So, as you may have guessed, this post is neither here nor there... Just rambling and sharing memories. And maybe sharing the imperative: do it now, you know there's never a next time.

Holidays Upon Us

For various reasons, some more obvious than others, we didn't quite get around to shooting a family holiday photo last year. This year, however, the kids and I agreed that being back in our own home was cause for celebration, what with all that has occurred in the last 365 days. So we got the new tree, decorated it, had the fireplace going, and snapped a few shots with the digital camera on my still tripod. The lighting came out looking warm and even, which makes us quite lovely (heh). Tyler's in his sweats, Kayleigh in her PJs. Just like Christmas morning.

Christmas (for me) came early in the form of Autumn's Grey Solace's latest CD from Projekt Records. I'm in shoegazer heaven. Wiley & I both went to our respective groomers today, and now I have a belly full of Taco Del Mar, so I must do as the Spanish do, and take a short siesta this afternoon. When I am Dictator For Life, the siesta will be among the first institutions adopted and mandated. You WILL have a nap after lunch, and you'll LIKE it!

So, yes, what was I saying? Ah - had a postmortem for the film on Sunday with Sally, Darlene and Sally's husband Justin, who is our production accountant. Then had a meeting with the sound designer. Today I got a great call from the actor who played... well, ME, essentially. Such a great group of people... I really can't say enough good-and-gushy about them! Then I got a call from the editor, who said he was interested in potentially forming a production group with Sally, Justin and me. He has done the HD video capture from the camera, and says it looks AMAZING. Huzzah! I'll check it out later this week when I retrieve the camera.

I also got email out of the blue from a gal I did theater with back in junior high! The embarrassing thing was I didn't remember we had a stage kiss! Of course, much of my early teens is a giant, hormonally-crazed blur. I'm sure I'm not alone in being able to remember what happened to me at age four, but having fourteen mostly a blank. Ah well... it's cool to catch up!

Anyway... I'm sure there is more, but right now the Dictator For Life has mandated a siesta. Hasta~

DGIs and What We Want to Hear

I haven't really gone into a lot of the terminology that we in the "widda" community use, mostly because I really don't identify as a "widda" so much as a guy trying to live his life under difficult circumstances. But there is one term for a whole section of the populace, a section I've encountered a lot since losing Samantha. The DGI, or Don't-Get-It.

Anyone who has suffered the loss of an immediate family member has encountered someone who told them "they're in a better place."* Or, "It's been X days/months/years. It's time to move on with your life." That's a DGI.

* Really? Better than alive and interacting with a family that loves them dearly? Maybe he/she should have been allowed to choose where he/she would like to be right now. If life on Earth is so bloody awful, why do we persist in it? Anyway, you get the picture.

So I'm reading Go Go Yubari's blog and she in turn has a link to another fellow widda's blog, which contains the perfect rundown of what most of us absolutely do NOT want to hear, and what we do...

Just got back from seeing David Whyte recite from his new book (which is a huge compilation of old and new work from 1984 to present). Most of the pieces were about experiences at holy places in Ireland. But some were very personal, transformational insights into loss and the cyclical continuity of life. The autobiographical Tempus Omnia Revelat describes his father's passing with such beauty and reverance that I found myself wiping tears when he'd finished.

This part of a piece called Ancestral stuck with me:

Each life a traveler
not yet really arrived
like passing strangers,
the lanterns
half cloaked,
showing a glimmer
at the doors
of the living,
half
looking for
shelter,
half wanting
to stumble on
beyond us
to what waits,
some place perhaps
in the brimming dark
where
the story ends.


Powerful stuff, that. 'Nuff said.

FIFTY BOXES.

That's right. Fifty.

After weeks of negotiating with the RestorX manager who worked on my case, I thought we'd hit on a workable deal. They would drop off 10 or 20 boxes a week for a couple weeks, making the sort-through a managable affair. So imagine my surprise when the truck arrived fully loaded with everything from the flood AND fire. Everything. While I'm quite happy to see how many photos and videotapes survived, there are unfortunately several issues at work here:

1. I don't have room to store fifty boxes inside with any semblance of organization, and my carport is open the the elements and leaks, so there is now a maze of cardboard, floor-to-ceiling in my downstairs hallway and my bedroom.
2. All of that old energy is now sitting back in my home.
3. A lot of this stuff is Sam's, and I was not prepared to deal with those memories and the attached emotions right now, all at once.
4. Some of this stuff is fire or flood damaged and had been written off, yet they are giving it back to me anyway, so I now have the task of throwing it out. Thanks, RestorX.
5. A roll of toilet paper?? A year-old 1/4 full bottle of lotion?? Yuck. Come on. All the toiletries were itemized and claimed. I don't need this crap back.
6. Most boxes are only packed half full; the rest of the space is taken up by brown packing paper - but here's where it gets fun: sometimes the packing paper is just wadded up to fill space, and SOMETIMES it actually contains something fragile - and I get to do the Easter egg hunt every time to make sure nothing fragile or valuable gets recycled.
7. They simply HAD to bring me all this stuff right before Christmas, so I have nowhere to store anything else.

Bottom line is, the settlement with RestorX's insurance carrier is still open, and it will not be closed before my family and I are compensated for the trauma of having our home burn, losing our family cat, any dump runs I have to make because of this garbage coming back, and my time spent unpacking.

Sorry for the rant, but it was a rude awakening. I made it through about 10 boxes yesterday, tossing out and consolidating.

Only forty more to go.

The Iceman Cometh

It's another chilly one today - and all Seattle schools are closed once again. In all the normal craziness of yesterday, I totally forgot to mention that my grandfather turned 90. We called and sang to him, and he talked about the new furnace he and my grandmother were having installed. That's right - they live in Bellingham, WA and had no heat for some of the coldest days ever. We're supposed to get some more snow this afternoon, followed by rain tonight, which should kill the cold snap just a bit.

I'm going to see poet David Whyte again this Friday with my brother & stepmom. Looking forward to that.

Other than that and finishing up the books on the production part of Ordinary Angels, life is mostly back to a semblance of whatever pitiful excuse for normal we usually cling to. Now I just need to edit the DVDs for the summer musical, and one for The Dining Room.

Wheeeeeee!

Snow Day

...or rather, "ice day". With the wind-chill hitting -15F in some areas, Seattle has become a giant ice rink. All the schools were closed today, so the kids and I walked down to Big 5 to stock up on the winter gear we hadn't replaced yet - hats & gloves, mostly. Then we sat in the Starbucks cafe in Barnes & Noble and had warm drinks before heading home.

Tyler is trying to get his writing placement essay for WAVA done, but is being resistant. Kayleigh is working through her homework packet for the week.

I noticed my buddy Beach put his old college film up. I always thought Tube was a brilliant premise for a short, and I think he executed it well. We were all in the DeAnza film department at the time, Beach, myself, Mark Holmes (now of Pixar) and Rob Wilson, and we often pooled talent and resources, and our time in the editing suites. The guys in the waiting room are Pat Goddard and Edward Havens (nice appearance on Attack of the Show last night, Ed!). The dude in the scrubs is Randy Rhodes, aka Dick Hollywood. I edited the video you see playing on the television during the "mating" sequence (and no, the couple is not from a porno, the segment was from a daytime soap). I'm glad Beach updated the titles and soundtrack, but I kinda miss the old Ryuichi Sakamoto music he had originally.

Maybe someday soon I will post the animated shorts Steve & I worked on at Hyperbole back during the dot com boom. Those were pretty entertaining too.

Thankful

Although I usually mark certain American holidays (Columbus Day, for example) with mourning for our indigenous peoples, Thanksgiving has always meant more to me as a general coming together of friends and family.

So what would a guy like me be thankful for, given the events of the past couple years?

• I have two beautiful, intelligent children, whom I love dearly, and who love me.
• I have a wonderful, close and supportive family.
• I have some of the best friends anyone could ask for - close friends, who are much more like family.
• I have a roof over my head - a completely rebuilt home.
• I've completed my two creative goals for the year - direct The Dining Room and shoot Ordinary Angels.
• Those projects brought new creative opportunities and friendships.
• I have kept Sam's memory alive in my art and my associations.
• I'm in pretty good health, all things considered.

I wish everyone a fantastic holiday. Hopefully with people you love.

Be well.

Wrapped!

We finished the shoot yesterday with a half hour to spare. I met my stepmom, brother and kids down at Alki and took them to dinner at Pegasus.

Despite some logistic challenges and a certain amount of sleep deprivation, I think we made it through remarkably well. The weather cooperated perfectly. Thursday & Friday: clear. Saturday: clear. Sunday: pouring down rain, which, although it was miserable to stand around in, lent an ominous look to the final scene, where Micah realizes his mission has failed. The rain broke just in time for us to finish the fallen approaching the house. Lucifer folds up his umbrella, cuing the other fallen to do likewise, and as they clear out, he puts his shades back on, bookending his appearances.

And as the actor turned and walked away down the street - no kidding - the church bells from three blocks away started chiming. Everyone looked at me when the take was over like, "What favors did YOU pull?" It rocked. I've praised my leads many times, but I really have to point out how crucial the background players are. In the case of the final scene, the addict's family: Trina, Wayne and Oliver. Spectacular pathos.

I owe my neighbors gift baskets. And my kids are getting the dedication.

Monday we did the death of fallen angel Ornias, the bad counterpart to Afriel. The sun came out and allowed us to do all we needed while the residue from the previous rain left everything damp and slimy looking. Then we moved inside, and it began to rain. We shot a scene which is probably going to be difficult for many of my family and friends to watch. The death of the cancer patient in the arms of her grieving husband. I stayed pretty well in control until the camera picked up the framed picture of Sam in Bye Bye Birdie on the desk in the background. That was a bit much for me, and tears started flowing. The actors playing the cancer patient and husband - bless them - were incredibly understanding and respectful, and talented as heck. There was absolute awed silence during the few takes we did. Ben and Trish are my heroes. They're fantastic. I can't say enough about my talented cast and crew, my DP and his gaffer, an excellent sound recordist, a small army of dedicated PAs, my assistant director Samantha... and of course the two women without whom the film would not have been made: Sally & Darlene.

The screenshots have now been arranged in script order, some with captions.

Very soon I will take the external drive with the footage on it to Dan Humphrey (of The Addict fame), who will see what kind of editing magic he can work on this monster. In the meantime, perhaps a MySpace page for the film is in order...

Angels Pics and Progress

I have uploaded some screenshots of the footage we've been getting on Ordinary Angels. The pics are straight from Sony Vegas, no color correction or contrast tweaking... but you get the basic idea.

We've been very lucky, with weather and talent, and despite some individual drama behind the scenes (just real life stuff going on in people's lives), everyone is way into the project, and pretty much meshes. I've made some new friends and some potentially long-lasting contacts. Very cool.

One more day. Light shoot, but emotionally draining nonetheless.

More after we wrap...

"Angels" Ahoy

With production drawing near, I thought I should get one more post in. I will either be full of energy and posting every day during the shoot, or (more likely) I will post once we wrap on Monday.

It's coming together, last-minute shenannigans aside. What a great word that is. Shenannigans. It has to be Irish. Only the Irish could come up with a word as good as that. It sounds like someone dismissing a concept after far too many pints of Guiness.

And speaking of last-minute shenannigans, Kayleigh slammed her finger in my car door yesterday. Laterally. Fortunately it was a compression and didn't bleed all that much, although the poor girl did have a little bout of shock. I put a temporary band-aid on it from my car first aid kit, took her home, cleaned it, re-wrapped it, put her on the sofa in front of the fireplace/heater, gave her some Tylenol and called the doctor's office. They slipped us in at 5:15 PM, x-rayed her hand, found no fracture (thank heavens), cleaned it again, re-re-wrapped it, and sent us home. It's still waaaay sensitive, so she's taking a home day.

In the shuffle and drama of yesterday afternoon, I neglected to get Tyler's prescription refilled, so now I have to wait until the Rite Aid opens to get that done. Which will then put him about 3 hours behind his med schedule. Since it's early dismissal all this week, I'll probably keep him home to work on his placement exams.

Had a 3-hour meeting with my DP yesterday. He's the guy who shot The Winter of Her, which is a great indie short (directed by our own Heath Ward). We totally clicked on this project, and he's going to make it look good. I think I've moved past a lot of the fear and trepidation of last week, and have gone into excitement mode. I've also decided to kill my Manic Lobster arts blog. It's just sitting there.

Until next time...

Blank.

We had the cast & crew meet & greet today.

There were many people in my home.

It was great to see everyone. We had Ron do a photo shoot for the poster.

It's all coming together. I'm exhausted.

Homer sleep now.

P.S. My assistant director's name is Samantha. Go figure.

The Party's Over

The party's over
It's time to call it a day
They've burst your pretty balloon
And taken the moon away
It's time to wind up the masquerade
Just make your mind up now
The piper has to get paid

The party's over
The candles flicker and stir
You danced and dreamed through the night
It seemed to be right just being with her
Now you must wake up, all dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party's over
It's all over, my friend

- Nat King Cole (as interpreted by David J.)

The long day for The Dining Room went well. Two shows - long, ehausting day (for the actors & tech folks and for me). Both shows were good. Yesterday's matinee was, with the exception of a lost line that blew an entrance cue and another line, quite good as well. Everyone gave the artistic director kudos for the quality of the show. Two folks from Youngstown came to the final show, and were very generous with their praise. Twelfth Night is really known for the summer musical and the winter production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. This was the first contemporary drama the group has staged, and the director of the center commented that it was good to finally see what we were about (and to feel like we were really a resident theatre company).

Sam's parents were up helping her brother move house, and we all went out to breakfast before the show, then they came to the matinee. It was nice for them to see the product of Samantha's work.

The cast party was at the home of one of the castmembers, whose parents have what is simply the best basement rumpus room ever. A full bar - and I mean fully stocked with everything, with a real to-scale bar and stools. Pool table. Slot machines. Bar trivia machine. Plinko. Collections of baseball cards and sports memorabilia, classic model cars and event pins line the walls along with framed vintage magazines and newspapers (like the 1962 Space Needle cover story on Life magazine). Stained glass, disco ball, spinning DJ light. Amazing. Travis walked into the room and fell to his knees in supplication. And phenominally nice people! After pool and drinks, we were served dinner upstairs in their formal dining room, and the cast, the artistic director and I enjoyed some laughter and that kind of melancholy that comes from having done a good show, but wanting to do more. The cast gave me a gift card to a restaurant - I'll take the kids.

There is talk that doing two weekends, like with Mattress, will be a possibility in the future - it costs a lot to rent the stage, even at tenant rates. But it gives the show time to generate word of mouth. The main frustration is that after six weeks of rehearsals, the actors are finally hitting their stride when the show closes. Another three shows would give them room to really shine with their characters.

Anyway, as of now it's a moot point. We struck the stage right after the matinee, and all that's left of The Dining Room is our lone brass chandelier hanging over a blank stage.

It's now pouring rain. I need to get Kayleigh to school and get a few office tasks done before I head out to an Ordinary Angels production meeting. For the next week and a half, work is Angels, then we shoot, then I'm done for the year.

Dining Room Rocked the House

Well, opening night came and went with relatively few hitches. The facility does not have a headset sytem, so communication between the booth and backstage is a conundrum. We were resourceful and relied on our cell phones, but nonetheless had a few missed cues and whatnot. Even so, the audience (about half full, not bad for a Thursday night show in pouring rain) seemed to enjoy it.

Last night, however, saw the cast with an improved energy, an audience that, while not numerically superior, was far more responsive, and a performance much tighter and error-free. An acquaintance of one of the castmembers told me afterward that he'd seen a professional production at another Seattle theater and that The Dining Room was a superior production in every way. Now I haven't seen the production in question, but they are a professional company and a respected bulwark of Seattle's theatre community. So his comment made my year, not out of any sense of malice, but because I've basically been in a creative isolation tank and had no objective barometer regarding how good our show was. The audience at last night's show (including some Pandemonium Players) was really thrilled with it.

Not bad for an old hack who hasn't directed for the stage in over a decade.

Now comes our long day. I will be gone from 1PM to 10PM. Two shows. Then a matinee tomorrow, and we strike the set and call it good. As one of the Twelfth Night boardmembers remarked last night, "we're paying the price for being first." That means we're doing a fall show by a lesser known playwright (at least in these parts), in a facility which could really be more patron-friendly in terms of access and signage and is set up more for live music and DJs than a theatrical run - and, quite frankly, Seattle theatre patrons don't know it's even here. Once word gets out that good theatre is happening here, it will no doubt become a destination. In the meantime, I don't know if this show will break even, and I was prepared from the outset that I might be a convenient whipping boy for anything that went wrong with it, but last night's performance was so worth it.

Next week Tyler and I have a conference at his school. He's not being challenged, feels bored and like the work is remedial, and as a result is becoming a barrier to other kids and their learning. He's been on a waiting list for another middle school since the beginning of the school year, but no progress has been made. And I'm afraid simply switching the physical location of his school misses the point. So the two of us began a search for alternatives. I liked the alternative middle school affiliated with the place he and Kayleigh went to preschool, but it's private, and the tuition is out of the question for a guy who isn't a project lead at Microsoft anymore. Then I ran across a state-based virtual academy, where he would have all the challenge and requirements of a brick-and-mortar public school, with the added benefit of a flexible schedule and personalized curriculum. He will still go on field trips with other kids, he will still get PE, he will still be held to WASL standards (actually, academy students are held to higher testing standards). But he will be able to track his progress online and really drive his own education for the rest of this year and perhaps next. I'm not looking at it as a permanent solution, but if it works, it may well be. And the important thing is, HE'S EXCITED about learning again.

Happy New Year...

At least to those who mark the change on the Celtic calendar. It's another long night. We had our second dress rehearsal tonight, while Gavin took the kids out trick-or-treating and Michelle held down the fort.

The play is really starting to gel. Ron came to the rehearsal and snapped a few hundred shots, some of which I've posted to my flickr account. Check 'em out! It almost looks like a real thing!

Yikes

It was Kayleigh's turn to have a rough night. Lots of upset over a bunch of little things that added up. Fortunately I was home by her bedtime so we got a few minutes uninterrupted cuddling, which seemed to help calm her down.

Tyler was great. Thanks go to my brother and his wife for watching the kids on his actual birthday (Happy Birthday, bro! It was good to hang out with you Friday). I was supposed to call my mom back, but was so distracted with putting the kids to bed, and the exhaustion of a 14-hour day on only 4 hours sleep, I spaced it. Tech week in late October sucks. But the set looks good, and the runthrough last night felt promising.

Oh, and last night, for the first time since that dream just before the fire, I had a nightmare that actually woke me up. In this case, it was that the house was burning down.

On the bright side, the blinds are being installed tomorrow, so we will have shades up on Halloween. But nightmares about the house burning down - again - yeah, not so fun.

Blur...

This is the only time I'll have to post today (and perhaps for the next few days), so I thought I should get to it.

Had a great moment with my son last night. After Kayleigh was asleep, Tyler and I went upstairs, turned on the fireplace and had a nice chat. It's not often a father gets the chance to cuddle with his 12-year-old son (especially given the crazy schedule). It was nice.

I've been so deep in everything, I forgot yesterday was my stepmom's birthday, despite weeks of planning and forethought. So I feel like crap, of course. I'm taking her to the airport this morning so she can fly down to California for a couple days. Then I have to go straight from SeaTac to Northgate for a lunch meeting with my Ordinary Angels producers. Then up to Display & Costume for some prop shopping, then to Seattle Lutheran High School to pick up wallpaper for the play. My poor car...

Tonight I have to go on a Home Depot run for the play, Friday I have a bon voyage drink with some of my Gilda's group (one of my fellow widdas is taking off to Guatemala for a few months), then my brother's 30th birthday celebration. Saturday morning I meet with my sound designer for the play, then have a few hours to prep for Sunday's load-in and finish the program (I am apparently a one-man theatre machine). Then that night I am screening the 75th anniversary DVD of Tod Browning's 1931 Dracula with Bela Lugosi for some friends. Yeah, I know it's a cinematic icon, but honestly, how often do you sit down and watch it? Our society is so rushed and jaded and pressurized (I know from personal experience) that the classics largely go unnoticed now. So I have decided to pay homage to the film portrayal of Dracula that gave us every single one of the mainstream qualities we've come to associate with vampires: long canines (not incisors, like the earlier Nosferatu), the dashing, sexy foreigner, black capes, widow's peaks, the bat transformation, the hypnotic gaze.

Sorry for the tangent... where was I?

Oh yeah... Sunday morning we start load-in for the play. The set pieces, scenery, props and costumes are all transported and stored at Youngstown, and the set constructed on the stage. Thus begins tech week.

Once the play closes, I will have two and a half weeks of solid prep for Angels. Our shoot is November 16-20. Once the shoot is done, I will hand it to an editor and take a deep breath. After calling in family favors for childcare and such, I will owe my family some personal time - especially my kids. I'm not booking any professional gigs or productions or anything until after January 1. I mean, I'm already working through Celtic New Year. The rest of the holidays will be ours, damnit.

I did some interesting math and figured I was currently doing the work of two parents, two directors and two producers, plus trying to unpack a house while trying to get some sleep and not go crazy and hack someone to death with a homemade katana. Good thing I don't have to be a husband or boyfriend right now as well.

What's keeping me sane? Hugs from my kids. The occasional Daily Show, when I catch it. Billie Holiday, and lots of it - there's a woman who really lived a freakin' LIFE. Poetry by David Whyte. Music by Trespassers William & Autumn's Grey Solace. Here, Bullet by Brian Turner. Nothing like a book of poetry from the front lines of Iraq to put my own life in perspective. Amazing stuff.

Until next time...

Projects, Projects...

Time for an update.

There is light at the end of the tunnel.

What I mean is, I can finally see an end to this crazy-stupid triple-booked schedule I've been maintaining for the last three months plus.

Thursday night brought the announcement that one of our producers on Ordinary Angels has found himself overbooked and was offered a very attractive commercial shoot during our scheduled shoot. Ordinarily, this would be a major hurdle, except for the fact that he is lining up all the resources and replacement people before he leaves. That, and I emailed our co-producer from Duo, and she's interested in coming on board. So in the long run, I think we'll be just fine.

We're two weeks away from opening The Dining Room at Youngstown. The crazy schedule will kick in during tech week, when we're in the theater space and rehearsing with a real set and props. Once the show opens, however, it becomes the actors' show - I really have to (and get to) drop the reins and just watch along with the rest of the audience.

I had a tech meeting at Youngstown yesterday morning. It was surreal walking into the technical director's office, which is about 1/3 of the control booth space. As we climbed the stairs and reached the door, Samantha's name greeted us from an etched slate plaque. The tech director works there - she passes that name many times every day, and likely doesn't give it a second thought. But it was a little strange for me.

Anyway, I made a lot of progress on the show yesterday, and typed up a shot list for Angels. Tyler encountered some issues with his computer, and ended up overreacting to the point where we found ourselves in another standoff. I called my brother (the middle school teacher) to come by and run interference. He is an adult male whom Tyler respects (and well versed in child psychology), so was able to talk him down. Tyler was very contrite and ended up hanging out with me all night. Gavin and Michelle left, and my buddy Ron and the kids and I had our Friday night pizza, then Kayleigh went to do some artwork and we boys watched the first two Alien films on the projector screen with 7.1 surround! I think that means the screening room has been officially christened.

With all the moving and time constraints, I haven't been to the gym in over a month, and I'm feeling like things are starting to slide. I need to get my slidey ass back in there soon.

I'm supposed to be building sets today with one of the Dining Room cast, but I think it's gonna be more of a Home Depot shopping trip. I'm going into Brian's studio tomorrow with Mike Berg to do some more on the tribute CD. It's sounding pretty good. Can't wait to get it done and out the door!

What Could I Say?

Now I'm so afraid
To push you from my mind
Like the fear of forgetting what
What light is like when you close your eyes

How can you stare
How can you sit
While I'm trying to tear you up
And I'm almost good at it

I told you everything I knew
I tore my pockets out and gave them all to you
You hold my throat like a violin
I never want to kiss again
Cause there's nobody like you
Cause there's nobody like you

- Trespassers William

How Many of Me?

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 35 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

I Know

I know i'll never see you
I know i'll never run into your body walking through the crooked streets
I know i'll never hear you
I know i'll never hear you like a sound that wafts inside from outside there
I know that if i waited i know that if i wait a thousand days will lie wasted with thoughts of you

My love i've pictured this:
Your violet eyelids opened to say "here's where you've been"
Your lips open to say "my darling it's been so very long and i'm in pain"
I know i'll never feel you
I know i'll never get so close to you that i can't smell anything else
I know i'll never see you I know that where you go i'll still be far from where you are

My love i've pictured this:
Your violet eyelids opened to say "here's where you've been"
Your lips open to say "my darling it's been so very long and i'm in pain"
Sometimes i picture all your fingers
Sometimes they're crawling down my spine
Sometimes they're buttoning your jacket
Sometimes you're far but you're still mine

I know that it is raining
And i know that the rain will soak you through
And leave you like the tattered sky
I know i go in circles
I know that window panes bring only rain and not your face

Sometimes i picture all your fingers
Sometimes they're crawling down my spine
Sometimes they're buttoning your jacket
Sometimes you're far but you're still mine

I know that it is raining and
I know that the rain will soak you through and leave you like the tattered sky
I know i go in circles
I know that window panes bring only rain and not your face

- Trespassers William (live performance here)

Taurus Love Horoscope

For Friday, October 13th...

It's time to rise to the occasion. You can continue to clutch at the past, or you can acknowledge what it meant to you and then let go of it completely. After all, to make room for new love, you have to let the old go.

Um, yeah. Working on it.

Despot Pictures - Now With 100% More Logo!

Steve came over today and we riffed out a corporate ID for the production company. It was great fun - just like in the olden days when we would get together and draw and brainstorm. Steve is one of those artists who thrives on the creative energy of others and is totally in the moment. He's a master at bottling lightning.

So he took the basic sketch home to vectorize and play with it in Photoshop, and then we traded files for a couple hours tonight. He did the actual work from my design concept, and I laid in the text. I can't wait to put some old Soviet music behind it and see it on the screen. I think it'll make for some nice business cards too.

Now I'm going to bed...

Back in Business

Sam's brother Doug came by on Sunday morning and got my work box up and running - at least enough to get the Dining Room poster done. I've posted the whole shoot over at my flickr account. Enjoy.

We're less than a month from the Dining Room run, and have started working with costumes and props as much as we can. I love my cast. They are all beginning to fill their respective roles and have become much more natural in them. After pirating it up on Friday night in the Youngstown theater space, I am excited to see our set properly dressed and lit.

Ordinary Angels casting has gone great, but has proven to be a challenge in terms of choosing between some VERY talented actors. In the end, I need to set aside everything but the aesthetics of whom I feel best embodies the role as written. And when I say "as written", I mean not only does the dialogue sound natural coming out of the actor's mouth, but perhaps more importantly, does the actor look and sound like the image in my mind as I was writing the piece...

And now, back to work.

Yo Ho Ho...

Now where did I put that bottle o' rum??

Okay, so tonight is the crazy mad Twelfth Night fundraiser. I will put on all my newly-replaced pirate gear and y'arrr! it up with a bunch of Pandemonium Players. My voice will be gone tomorrow, but fortunately I won't have to talk all that much at the final callbacks for Ordinary Angels.

Tyler is almost over this cold, thank goodness. Kayleigh, on the other hand, fell from the play structure at school and severely sprained her wrist yesterday. School called, thought it might be broken, I rushed down to pick her up and get her in at the doctor's office, get x-rays, get dinner made and get to rehearsal. She's fine.

Saturday evening, after callbacks, I get to host three preteen girls for Kayleigh's birthday slumber party. Then, Sunday afternoon, Sam's brother is coming over to help get my work computer back up and running so I can get the Dining Room poster done.

Tyler & I assembled the electric fireplace mantel this morning, and the retro radio came yesterday - you know, the kind that look like vintage domed radios, but have a CD player and turntable built in... Looks fantastic on the DVD storage cabinet - almost like it belongs there. Hooray for fake retro!

Now to find that rum...

What Does it Mean?

Two nights ago, I had another "visit" from Sam. Since we've been back in the house, I've definitely felt her presence or energy around a lot more. And why not? Living humans are electrochemical reactors. They give off residual energy. She lived in this house for a decade - and died in it - so it makes sense that her imprint would still be here, fire, flood and all. Moreover, we both maintained a belief in the persistence of the human soul, and my experience throughout this ordeal has only cemented that belief.

Anyway, I've never just had casual narrative-style dreams about my deceased loved ones. They are without fail timely, engaging and extremely real - moreso than any other kind of dream. And they usually happen very infrequently (Sam is the exception to the rule, but given our relationship... well, Sam was always the exception to the rule, regardless). They are more in the realm of visits or communications. My brother, uncle and grandfather have all visited me in the past, and a favorite great aunt once physically appeared to me in the antique rocking chair we had. And more recently, my father has visited in dreams, and Sam has racked up a lot of dreamtime with me - not that I mind at all. Bring 'em on!

The previous dream I posted about was very upbeat and happy. We laughed and hugged and she complimented me on the house. This time, however, the mood was solemn - almost somber. I was sitting (sans clothing) on a long Victorian sofa. It resembled the green wingback sofa and armchair we used to have when we first moved in together, but looked faded and older, and the couch itself was huge; it seemed to go on forever into the dark. The room in which I sat was also dark. The only light seemed to be eminating from right in front of Samantha.

So I'm sitting naked on an infinite couch in the dark, while Sam kneels on the floor and begins to wash me with a cool, wet cloth. I remember making jokes and trying to be funny (you'd think it could easily have been one of those dreams), but she was very serious, and almost sad. It was very tender, and totally non-sexual. She just continued to bathe me with the wet cloth.

Tangent: Come to think of it, this would be a complete reversal of when she was winding down and couldn't move so well, and I would wash her. Although the setting was different (she was on a shower stool in the bathtub, and the water was nice and warm), it was no less tender. Caring for someone in the weeks and days before death is a transformational and emotionally bonding experience. Just taking a trip to the bathroom becomes intensely close. I remember she would fade in and out of lucidity, and every once in a while she would look up at me as I held her steady on the toilet. She'd flash me a sheepish look and an embarrassed smile - this self-proclaimed Cast Iron Bitch, this force of nature, reduced to teetering on the pot with her husband holding her steady. Once, she thanked me for taking care of her. "You'd do the same for me," I replied. "Yes I would," she answered, and I knew it was true.

I know water can symbolize emotions, and being naked can mean emotional vulnerability. But does it make sense that I was cracking jokes the whole time - just like Sam used to do in the hospital? Was that my way of dealing with the lingering hurt and loneliness, by displaying a facade of humor and confidence? And what does it mean when your lost love tenderly washes you with a sad expression? Seems she might be working on helping me shed the past emotional anchors to her - and that would be a less-than-happy task to accomplish. If anyone has any input, I'm all ears.

Tyler is sick today - stupid change-of-season cold has been going around for weeks now. I've been taking my supplements, my green tea, my StemEnhance and the occasional Airborne (if I feel symptomatic). So far, so good. Lots of stuff going on right now. Can't really afford to be sick.

My bedroom furniture came yesterday. My room smells like cedar. The kids hate it, but I LOVE it.

Dining Room rehearsals continue (we open in 4 weeks), and the fundraiser cabaret is Friday night. Final callbacks for Ordinary Angels is Saturday. Kayleigh's slumber party is Saturday night. Run run run.

Been listening to the new Trespassers William CD. For those unfamiliar with this LA-Seattle transplant quartet, they make the most beautifully haunting melodic alternative rock. Somewhat like Mazzy Star or The Doves or even an ethereal Cowboy Junkies. Or a mellow, downtempo version of And Tears Fell. I fell in love with their music about 7 years ago when I was doing the Starbug project and they were a fellow MP3.COM artist (along with Mira). And now they're up here - hope I can see them live one of these days. I know it's shocking - Todd still listens to mope rock. Yeah, what can I say? I've always had a dark streak - now I don't feel I need to hide it. :)

It Should Have Been...

...our sixteenth wedding anniversary today.

I spent the day moving the last bunch of stuff from the rental house, and stowing it in the "new" house, all the while missing you. Wishing you were here to help sort stuff, or just talk to me, and occasionally flash a smile my way.

Then I went back to the furniture store at Southcenter where I got the kids' dressers, and bought a bed. It's cross-cut oak with dovetailed cedar drawers. It's mission style, masculine, and mine. And that hurt. A lot. Far more than I thought it would. Kayleigh still has her white canopy bed we got for her when she turned 3, and your cedar hope chest survived too (along with everything it contained, including your wedding dress). The oak rocking chair your folks bought us when Tyler was born sits in the corner of the living room. RestorX has cleaned the stainless dinner-ware we'd used since September 29th, 1990, so I'll be getting that back soon. And of course the house still stands. And that's pretty much everything of ours that remains in my life.

Not counting the kids, of course.

So our daughter turns 9 tomorrow, going on 24 - with talent and spirit and drama in ample supply. I remember celebrating our 7th wedding anniversary and, not 24 hours later, holding our little baby girl in my arms. That was the coolest anniversary gift ever. But it's also confusing when I feel melancholy on the 29th and have to be cheerful on the 30th.

It's almost a year and a half. I still miss you, baby. The special occasions are hard, but the day-to-day keeps getting easier to deal with. Although I still get incredulous stares when a sales clerk or contractor asks why I'm not consulting with the wife to make certain decisions, and have to tell them my wife is dead. I think I've accepted that this stuff happens all the time, but most people have a hard time wrapping their head around how a healthy 35-year-old woman gets a terminal cancer. I don't know... maybe if one person hears my story and it gives him or her a subtle shift in attitude, so that maybe life doesn't just consist of commutes and meetings and reports and minutia... so that they appreciate the fragile life they've been given, and maybe hug their kids a few more times each day... maybe then, telling the story is ultimately worthwhile.

We're taking Kayleigh out for her birthday dinner tonight. Most of the local family will be there. I will be thinking of you, and maybe you'll be peeking in to check on your girl.

It should be a happy day. Once upon a time, it was. But now it's one of those "It Should Have Been..." days. And that sucks. Don't get me wrong - on the whole, I think I'm doing pretty well. But this day has hit me hard, and I really miss you, more than most other days.

Love always,
Todd

A Moving Experience

The last week has been a solid block of throwing stuff in boxes, moving said boxes across the street and unloading the very same boxes so they can be reused for more stuff. In addition, I've had Dining Room rehearsals and costume meetings, and casting callbacks for Ordinary Angels.

The house is slowly taking shape inside. My stepmom helped organize and move stuff during the first week. Ron and Caleb have been over several times to help with setting up the family room sound system or construct my office furniture. Got a nice corner desk from Staples on sale - surprisingly well-constructed and hearty for the price. I have kids' furniture arriving tomorrow and the media storage pieces are on their way. All of the upstairs kit pieces are in the Mission style, which is really compatible with the craftsman design of the house. The sleeper sofa showed up, so now I have crash space for friends who decide to come visit. :)

Our second night in the house, last Friday, I was feeling stressed out because of the moving schedule and physical fatigue that comes from carrying boxes and assembling kit furniture all day. I crashed hard and had the first real "visit" dream about Sam since the very painful one months ago (described in the July 25th entry). She approached with a beaming smile, walking out of the sunlight toward me, arms outstretched. And this time I didn't push her away. I welcomed the reunion. We melted together in a tender embrace and she gently took my face in her hands and spoke in happy, encouraging tones about how much she loved what I'd done with the house, and how proud she was of me for handling the whole thing as I had done. I slept like a baby and awoke refreshed on Saturday, ready to take on callbacks and moving with renewed energy. It was one of those visceral experiences that made me feel like she was really giving her blessing to the whole thing.

When I awoke, I could smell her scent on my pillows and bedding for about 5 minutes until it faded away.

We have to be out of the rental by Saturday. There is only one more piece of furniture and some clothes and tech equipment. I should be able to get it all by Friday and let the cleaners go nuts with the place all day Saturday.

I look forward to getting some of our stuff back from RestorX. Preparing for a bit of a meltdown when we get to the photos...

Moving

Our cable gets switched over to the old house on Monday, so that is what I'm using as the starting gun for our move (in big, echoing voice): ACROSS... THE... STREEEEEEEET!

We've already done the requisite cleansing and smudging as per native tradition, and I am off to Home Despot to get an area rug for the dining room, after which time I can set up the dining table. Got loads of deliveries coming this week and need to make sure I have the rooms ready to receive.

I posted on my arts blog today.

The Grief Club is an odd entity. One never knows who will end up walking through the door. We had one very talented actor come in to read for our film project, and he mentioned he'd recently lost his father. I commiserated with him, explaining that I too had lost my father last year, and understood his situation (as much as another can). He was new to the grief experience. For a brief moment, I wanted to tell him that grief and I are old friends. I wanted to tell him my whole story - the loss of Sam, my father, the house, everything. Not to get in a pissing contest, but to show that I'm still here, still working, still creating, still trying to be a functional human on Planet Earth. To show that it is possible to continue despite great losses and pain. Renewal is born in the ashes of grief. Life must go on. Because the alternative is unacceptable.

But I resisted. It was neither the time nor the place. But as we shook hands upon his exit, our eyes locked briefly, and I saw a kindred soul. It was one of those bizarre moments out of time. One of those rare "hey - I know you" moments. Very cool.

those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief

turning downward through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe

will never know the source from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,

nor find in the darkness glimmering
the small round coins
thrown by those who wished for something else

- David Whyte

Forget the Wicked... I Get No Rest, Period.

Crashed hard at 10:30 last night. Woke up at 2:30AM, my mind racing. Took care of some email and surfed the web a bit, but never got back to sleep.

Tyler's meds were out, and the doctor's office had neglected to tell me his prescription was waiting yesterday, as promised. So I drove Kayleigh to school, swung by the doctor's office, picked up the scrip, drove back across W. Seattle to the pharmacy, dropped the scrip off.

Went to Target, picked up a floor lamp for the master bedroom, a mission-style entry bench and a beanbag chair for K's room.

Went back to the pharmacy, picked up T's meds. They won't let him go to school without them.

Got home to discover that due to the shift in my medical insurance (I'm now off the state DSHS coverage and on an individual Regence Blue Shield plan), the pharmacy had replaced his normal meds with a generic. It should work fine in theory, but I kept him home today to be sure.

Went across the street to unload the Target stuff at the house, and happened to run into the inspector, who required a few little tweks to be made, but otherwise approved the house for residence. We can start moving in any time.

Technically.

In reality, the painters still have some touch-up and trim work to finish before I will want to move any furniture, children or hairy animals in. But we are go for launch as soon as those things are done (and can start moving boxes any time).

I'm exhausted. Better grab a nap before I have to get K from school, take her to her dance class, pick her up early from dance class, and get to rehearsal.

As the World Turns

Well, the 5th anniversary of 9/11 (or 11/9 for my European friends) came and went. I steered away from mass media today, because I knew it would be full of either grotesque re-showing of the collapsing World Trade Center or of dramatic patriotic remembrances, neither of which I particularly wanted to see.

My grandmother is in the hospital. I won't go into detail here, but it's added another layer of stress onto everything else. I wish there was more I could do, since my mom is currently taking care of her mom, dad, granddaughter and husband (who is awaiting spinal surgery), while trying to earn a living. And out of her three children (my two siblings and me), we all have extremely full plates. My brother and I are in West Seattle; he, teaching full time, and I, finishing a home rebuild, raising two kids, directing a play, casting a film and organizing a move. My sister is in Bellingham, but she works full time to support her daughter and mortgage. Sigh... I guess we all send what energy we can.

We had our first Dining Room rehearsal tonight. It went well. It's good that I've done this show before, and can remember how we blocked it, what worked and what didn't work. I'm actually altering some things quite a bit (from the production LL Cool P and I were in). The cast is sound. It's a long way to the finished product, but we'll get there. The first step is getting everyone off book and blocked. THEN we can begin the finessing. Oh, and how we will finesse.

Spent most of the day cleaning up around the rental and over at the soon-to-be-ours-again house with the super. We walked around and I pointed out the odd issue here and there. We checked the lights, flushed every toilet, tested the hot water, turned on the new furnace (and THAT was a tense deja vu sensation, let me tell you). All systems go. The final inspection is tomorrow. After that, we can really move in any time. I have the cable set to switch over on Monday and a bunch of furniture being delivered over the next couple weeks. We're in the home stretch.

And now I must fall unconscious. My pillow calls, and I must obey.

"Telegram for Mr. Jesus Christ..."

My eight-year-old daughter just wrote the most amazing poem and posted it to her blog.

Let me back up.

I heard the front screen door close at about 8:30PM, and decided to go see which one of my children was going outside after dark. Kayleigh was standing on the porch in her fuzzy robe, gazing up into the sky.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked.

"Thinking about Mommy."

"Yeah," I replied. "I've been thinking about her a lot recently."

Then my daughter smiled and said, "I'm starting to think that for the first time, things are going to start going well for us."

I hugged her and left her to her thoughts. An hour later, she had the poem in question. I don't know whence those words came, but that's not an eight-year-old soul talking.

My kids amaze me.

Almost Home

Well, it looks like we may be able to start moving our stuff into the house next week. There are still little bits here and there to be done: glass cabinet doors, the built-ins in the family room & office, that kind of thing. But all the major stuff has been taken care of.

Sure, there were some setbacks, like communication problems with the subs, and the carpet guys having to re-do the staircase, and the tile guy smoking on-site, and some things being ordered and not arriving on time (or not at all), but such is construction. All that aside, we're actually ahead of schedule.

Huzzah & hurrah. I started a whole new set of Flickr photos for you to enjoy. Enjoy.

Soooooo Not a Rock Star

Hats off to Mike Berg. Mike is formerly of the Seattle bands BRAD (Stone "Pearl Jam" Gossard's side project) and Satchel. He is also the father of two girls, the eldest of whom has been friends with Kayleigh since they were both in kindergarten. And when Sam was sick, the Bergs would often take Kayleigh to her dance class or keep her for an overnight. She was away at one such overnight the morning Sam died.

So naturally when I was planning the And Tears Fell tribute CD last year, I asked Mike Berg to sit in on bass, knowing that, even as rusty as he might be, he could play circles around my just-barely-adequate bass chops. Once we practiced together and I heard Mike play, I swore I would not pick up a bass on this project. He's the one.

Today, Mike & I went to a recording session at Brian Chase's studio, Kayleigh in tow. The girl has a real connection to this music, like it's a channel to her mom. And since we weren't recording anything with live mics, K could sit in the doorway and sing along.

Mike hammered out SEVEN of the eleven total tracks on the CD in a three-hour session, and I even added the electric textural and lead guitar to "Tapestry", the song Sam & I composed with then-bassist Chris Palmer for our second album in 1990.

It's really great to hear these songs filling out. Until today, most of them consisted of acoustic guitars and either placeholder vocals by me, or more finished vocals by Muriel. I've enlisted Bay Area drummer Steven Fox to fly up for a weekend and lay down drums for the album, which should sound great with Mike's bass. This will definitely be the fullest and best-produced And Tears Fell has ever sounded, but as I was plucking out the lead line on "Tapestry", I was struck by just how inferior I felt in the presence of professional-level musicians. Don't get me wrong - I love the music dearly, and I think I could write a pretty catchy shoegazer song, back in the day (which was a Wednesday, according to Dane Cook). But sometimes I wonder how mope rock from 15+ years ago will translate now. I mean, obviously there are neo-shoegazer acts around now (The FLIR, Autumn's Grey Solace, etc), and it could be argued that the genre never really died (see Robin "Cocteau Twins" Guthrie still at it), but really - this And Tears Fell music is a decade and a half old.

It's probably all in my head, and the finished product will be a joy to behold. And having such good musicians working on this project will end up making me sound much better than I really am. I just want to work hard and get these projects completed.

* * *

The flooring crews - both of them - arrived yesterday and installed ALL THE REMAINING FLOORING. The tile guy finished the grout in the master bath today. Insane. It's actually resembling a home. I added more pics (with floors, dirty as they are) in the flickr photo album.

House Progress

I promised to put some photos of the house up for viewing, and I finally located my camera's USB cable. So here are a bunch, going back to the drywall phase and including the more recent paint and some flooring. In this case, the slate-textured vinyl that is in the downstairs hallway and the upstairs halfbath. The cabinets are birch with a fawn maple finish, and the countertops are a dark black/gray slate-textured laminate.

The rest of the pics are in a set on flickr.

Samantha Downing - A Life Abridged

Matthew Tyler Downing

Happy birthday, Matt.

You would have been 36 today.

And life would have been so very different.

Maybe losing my little brother so early in life was a kind of training for the losses to follow. Despite our short time on the planet together, I've never ceased thinking of you.

Love you, bro.

Sia Furler - Numb

Numb

I saw you cry today
The pain may fill you
I saw you shy away
The pain will not kill you

You made me smile today
You spoke with many voices
We travelled miles today
Shared expressions voiceless

It has to end

Living in your head
Without anything to numb you
Living on the edge
Without anything to numb you

It has to end to begin

Began an end today
Gave and got given
You made a friend today
Kindred soul cracked spirit

It has to end to begin

Living in your head
Without anything to numb you
Living on the edge
Without anything to numb you

It had to end to begin

Living in your head
Without anything to numb you
Living on the edge
Without anything to numb you
Living in your head
Without anything to numb you
Living on the edge
Without anything to numb you

It has begun

- Sia Furler

Sheryl Crow & Sting - Always On Your Side

And The Dining Room

The play is now cast. There were some surprises, mostly because the three women I ended up with aren't often put in leading roles (at least that I have seen). So this will be a great opportunity to let them shine in a very small cast in a pretty momentous point in the organization's history.

Caleb & I did our dog-and-pony show for the Twelfth Night board of directors and were happy to hear a lot of encouragement and support for the play. We also scored the dining room furniture we need from an estate sale for $100.

I'm bringing on Alyssa as my stage manager. She worked with Sam previously, and was set to be my assistant director on Duo, so I know I can work with her and trust stuff will get done right. I trained Caleb in stage blocking shorthand today so he can keep track of it when we get into rehearsal.

Went to Gilda's tonight, but didn't get to say much. What I was going to talk about was this feeling of emotional isolation I have been nurturing for the last few months. Like I'm getting too comfortable with the whole not-dating-thing. I dunno. There's just no time for it right now, and I know that "miz kerbam" will (eventually) cross my path when I least expect it. Just like Sam did. But does that mean I'm getting lazy about it? Or does it even matter?

If you're wondering who "miz kerbam" is, just understand it's an inside reference shared by Samantha's mom and myself. The reference being that one day, the woman I'm supposed to find will just show up - kerbam! I threw in the "miz". It's either very cute, or very late at night. Prolly the latter.

The kids are in the last week of their Pacific Science Center day camps. Then we get a week to prep for school. Then, come 9/6, they will return to the hallowed halls of learning.

Auditions for Ordinary Angels are coming up as well. Please fasten your safety belts.

The Sundays - Wild Horses

Casting Lures

Well, tonight's show was by far the best yet. The house was packed and the audience was on. The cast was awesome and did the smoothest performance so far. There was one missed entrance, but the scene went on just fine. Another standing ovation for our little group.

I've shot all shows thus far. Tonight I had a live audio feed from the sound board. Tomorrow I will shoot the final show with the second cast and will have all I need to assemble not one but two DVDs (1 for each cast). I know why Mary double-cast this show, but I think she won't be doing it again - really more hassle than it's worth.

After tomorrow's show, Kayleigh and I will make an appearance at the cast party. Ordinarily this is where we award the Spammies. Because the group started out performing Monty Python sketches, the awards consist of various cans of meat product, plus an elf shoe, a boot once worn by a stripper at the Lusty Lady, and the Samantha Downing Memorial Grand SPAM Award. This is the only actual trophy, which is awarded to the individual Mary feels best contributed to the overall production effort. It bears the names of all who have won it. Sam was the first to win, and I won for Bye Bye Birdie (when it actually became a trophy). Last year, it was my pleasure to award it to another member of our troupe (MJ), and this year it went to our lighting designer.

Saturday begins the casting process for The Dining Room. Then Sunday I have a few more to read for the play. Then it's Monday. Wheeee.

* * *

The cabinets and trim-out are happening at the house. It's miraculous how cool this is turning out to be. As soon as I locate my camera's USB cable, I will put up some pics.

For some reason, I have been thinking a lot about The Sundays. It starts by watching Muriel perform, which makes me think of the awesome music we're putting together for the tribute CD, which makes me think of when Samantha and I were recording, and we'd be compared to The Sundays. Not that I think we sounded like them - I don't think we did. But there are some similarities in song structure. Anyway, we liked The Sundays. Had all three albums. Saw them live at the Moore shortly after we moved up to Seattle and I won tickets from the local college radio station. And when Sam was in labor with Tyler, she had a mix tape for the hospital called Welcome to the World. On it was The Sundays' cover of "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones (the cover, IMHO, puts the original to shame). I'll see if I can dig it up on YouTube and post it here... it's kinda where my head is at.

Toad the Wet Sprocket - All I Want

Honestly, was any twentysomething NOT affected by this song?

Toad The Wet Sprocket

Tonight my past caught up with me, and I sat through what was simultaneously the most beautiful and intensely painful concert I've seen since that Marillion show back in '85.

I'd never seen Toad live before. When they were touring back in the day, Samantha and I were raising kids and working hard. It's really a shame we never saw them, seeing as how they were one of our shared favorite bands of the era. Within six months of showing up in Seattle, Pearl Jam Ten and Toad the Wet Sprocket Fear were on a cassette in our car that tended to stay in the deck and play over and over and over. To this day, I consider Fear their magnum opus, and one of my all time desert island discs. "Walk on the Ocean", "Nightingale Song", "Hold Her Down", "Pray Your Gods", "All I Want" and "I Will Not Take These Things For Granted", all from a single record. Rarely is the alternative music scene treated to such a feast of songwriting and technical prowess.

The concert was held at the Moore theatre in Seattle. We found parking for five bucks. The opener, Matt Nathanson, was one of those really good coffee-house-singer-songwriters-who-play-a-twelve-string-with-a-capo-on-the-third-fret-and-sing-about-relationships-and-sex trying to go from coffee house to a band tour. He was good - very good. He was really funny between songs, and his lyrical content reflected that sense of humor.

With six albums to choose from and almost two decades together, I was surprised that most of the set list consisted of stuff from Dulcinea and Coil. But when they hit any of the Fear material, starting with "All I Want", I found myself weeping. Most of the show was one rockin' single after another, and yet the memories the songs stirred were so powerful I could not help myself. "Nightingale Song" found me singing through a veil of tears and when the first encore consisted of "Walk on the Ocean" and "Fall Down", I thought I could maybe pull myself together.

Then they got called back by a passionate Seattle crowd for a second encore, which consisted of only one song, "I Will Not Take These Things For Granted" the final track on Fear and a real tear-jerker for me (for a host of reasons). I managed to dry my face by the time the lights came up.

Although I'd fronted for 8 seats in the mezzanine, somewhere along the line I found myself 2 tickets short. That and one friend who had actually bought one of the tickets ended up not showing. So we had my brother & his wife, my actress friend, and my LMP friend. I guess we ended up with those two extra seats for Sam and my dad. I know they would have enjoyed it. Several times I could almost feel Sam sitting right behind or "around" me, singing along to the music.

Aside from the drunken idiot who thought it would be cool to wear his Microsoft uniform (yellow polo shirt tucked into his beige shorts with his cell holster and a pair of LL Bean sandals, shades hanging from the undone neck of his shirt), sneak his cocktail into the theatre and stand up to do air guitar solos, attempt to incite some bizarre form of cheering by waving the Nixon victory fingers and/or generally make an ass of himself, the evening went without major incident. I dropped my car load of people off in West Seattle and came home to process the emotional flood.
Crazy what some music can do.

I thought I'd posted the lyrics from "I Will Not Take These Things For Granted" previously, but it looks like not... so here.

One part of me just wants to tell you everything
One part just needs the quiet
And if I'm lonely here, I'm lonely here
And on the telephone
You offer reassurance
I will not take these things for granted

How can I hold the part of me that only you can carry
It needs a strength I haven't found
But if it's frightening, I'll bear the cold
And on the telephone
You offer warm asylum

I'm listening
Flowers in the garden
Laughter in the hall
Children in the park
I will not take these things for granted
Anymore

To crawl inside the wire and feel something near me
To feel this accepting
That it is lonely here, but not alone
And on the telephone
You offer visions dancing

I'm listening
Music in the bedroom
Laughter in the hall
Dive into the ocean
Singing by the fire
Running through the forest
And standing in the wind
In rolling canyons
I will not take these things for granted

Mattress Opens

The past week has been a blur of activity, mostly show-related. Got the program finished and off to the printer (they look good), got Kayleigh to and from dress rehearsals, and monitored the sanding, priming and texturing of the walls in my house (the painters have done all the ceilings and are now putting color on the walls). I also arranged for a security system to be installed in the house. We're getting ever closer. All the millwork arrived and the trim will start going up next week.

Anyway, the show opened last night and was a rousing success. Despite a couple technical and dramatic gaffes onstage, the cast recovered and put on a great show. All things audio (voices, stage mics, orchestra) are the best they've been in years. The costumes are terrific. I think Fiddler had more interesting lighting, but this is a wholly different show.

I designed the Jesters' makeup. Since the part of the jester is being split among four actors, I decided to give them each a clown-white mask and paint a playing card suit on the left eye, the result being one of each suit represented onstage. It was down to the wire with the Jester makeup, and then I had to run up to the top of the house and run the video camera. Fortunately Caleb showed up to help set up, but it was a long, stressful night for my legs.

Like I said, the show was good and got a standing ovation. We have 2 shows today, a matinee tomorrow, and then four days off until Thursday's show - and plenty to do during that time.

Quick Check-In

Had a great day hanging out with my kids yesterday. We had lunch at Red Robin, then walked around at Southcenter, used our Borders gift cards (I really hate Borders, but hey - they were gift cards). Kayleigh found some Nancy Drew mysteries. Tyler was feeling a bit woozy after overstuffing himself at RR (the good news is, he's eating), but we found him some Calvin & Hobbes anthologies. I made a very personal score: my very favorite pirate movie ever, The Black Swan (starring Tyrone Power & Maureen O'Hara) on DVD. Best cinematography 1942, btw. My old VHS copy perished in the fire, and all the online stuff I read had the film coming on DVD next year. Maybe it is next year and I just spaced it. Anyway, I now have my favorite pirate movie on DVD, and it sits on a bookshelf alongside Catpain Blood, The Sea Hawk, and The Crimson Pirate (which is really a Burt Lancaster goofy adventure comedy, but it's good fun).

We sort of fudged dinner, what with each of us "great with child" from lunch. Had our first family meeting post-Sam. It went very well, and the kids are feeling empowered (man, I hate that word) to communicate and negotiate openly. Both kids were all hugs and cuddles. It was one of our few "days off".

Awoke to a phone call from a neighbor. Apparently, she'd been walking down 24th early this morning when Wiley started walking aloing with her. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how he got out of the house, but he'd evidently found a way. It was only after I went outside and found the side window screen in the driveway that I knew we'd have to close those windows at night from now on. He sees a squirrel or racoon and he's off like a half-shepherd/half-African hunting dog. Go figure.

The very nice neighbor lady brought him back and he's on double-secret probation for the rest of the day.

I'm headed off for my Sunday morning coffee with Obi Ron. Kayleigh's first rehearsal on the actual set is tonight. Can't wait to see what they've done with the space.

Rebels and Hard Drives and Children, Oh My!

The data recovery service now has custody of my twin 500GB hard drives and will try to grab what they can of my work materials. Dell promptly sent out a replacement for the defective drive, but that doesn't really help me right now, as I have to wait for the good drive to come back from data recovery with the bad drive. The hazard of a RAID 0 stripe array is that, while it's fast, if one of the drives should become corrupted or damaged, the data is split between both drives. When I get them back, I will configure the system for RAID 1 mirrored, which will create a second backup copy of my data automatically. Should one drive fail, I will still have the data on the second drive as a failsafe.

The tape & mud has started on the house.

Tyler is being really excellent. Today he woke up and offered to cook everyone breakfast. He made scrambled eggs, which were quite tasty! Kayleigh is having some nighttime issues. Now that Tyler is sleeping on the sofa in the living room, she's feeling a bit lonely. We're working on it. For pizza/movie night tonight, we watched Men in Black 2, and a couple episodes of "Futurama". Kayleigh spent some quiet time doing problems in a math workbook she keeps in her bedside drawer. I just tucked her in, and Wiley is asleep by her bed.

I finished reading Rebel Without a Crew, Robert Rodriguez' book. You know, the guy who made the Mexico trilogy (El Mariachi, Desperado, Once Upon a Time in Mexico), the Spy Kids movies, and most recently Sin City. It's pretty much his production journal of making El Mariachi and the craziness that followed. This dude became a human guinea pig for a pharma lab in Texas to raise money for shooting a feature he hoped to sell to Mexican home video. With a borrowed 16mm camera and $7,000 he went to a little town in northern Mexico and shot a really inventive and compelling action film. When he took it to LA to sell to the Mexican video distributors, he ended up with an agent, and then a bidding war erupted, landing him at Columbia. It's inspiring stuff, especially given Rodriguez and I are the same age.

The book made me think back to what I was doing in 1991. Newly married, Samantha and I had made the decision to move north to Seattle. I was writing 14 hours a day. Short stories, novels (I finished three), screenplays... always feeling the urge to get back behind a camera. It had been 3 years since we'd shot Sam's directorial project for her San Francisco State film course. She'd been shifting back toward stage, and I'd gone to DeAnza College in Cupertino to take advantage of some of their film production curriculum. Made several shorts. I was also at Mission College in Santa Clara doing a 2-year animation stint. Made several shorts there too. But in '91, we heeded the call of the north and ended up in an apartment in Renton and then a shared 1913 craftsman above a nail salon on the main drag in West Seattle.

I think Rodriguez and I had very similar backgrounds, creatively speaking. Where we diverged was while he was actively pursuing a very clear goal, I was trying to do too much. I had intellectual properties bursting out of my skull, and I wrote like mad to try to get everything down on paper. Affordable pro-level video was still a few years off; I kept the rust away by writing and directing a sci-fi comedy pilot for TCI cable in '94, using late '70s era 3/4" U-Matic gear. Then I got sidetracked by the videogame industry and made good bank while my soul was prison-raped for the better part of a decade. Kinda took a detour to have a career (I was still doing art, even if it was pushing pixels for the Man), raise a family (not one second of which I regret), that kind of thing. At least publishing RPGs was something creative Sam & I could do together, but that industry has its own set of crosses to bear.

I went back to the drawing board - literally. In 2000 and 2001, I brought back my old comic strip, Zingo, as a weekly 6-panel full color webcomic. It ran on the late, great Big Bad Hammer site. That was fun, but ultimately unsatisfying. I needed to be doing something else entirely.

Before Samantha died, she really tried to push me back to doing film. That was always my first love - creating something visually alive and engaging and entertaining. I had a bunch of stories in my back catalogue, many already in screenplay format. We chose DUO, a romantic comedy based loosely on two of my close buddies from the comic book industry. It was a feature, but we'd done 2 features before (1 of them was actually finished and broadcast on TV), so I knew we could handle it. I got two producers who were each great in a different area. Samantha used her casting prowess and cast the film with a talented group of Seattle actors. We went into rehearsals. We got set to shoot. The weekend of our first scheduled shoot - Samantha crashed. She'd be dead a couple weeks later. There's no way I can make DUO on a shoestring. Not now. Not without Sam. When I make it, it will be with a proper budget and everything in place. And hopefully I can call up Sam's cast and get the majority of them to do it.

So now I feel like I'm getting all these clues and bits of inspiration. The Angels script just kind of wrote itself, I happened to fall in with a group of Seattle indie film people whose work I respect, and the story is attracting a bunch of professionals who want to work on it. It's also under 30mins, so it's not quite the headache of a feature. It seemed like before, I would constantly be leaping over the hurdles strewn in our way. Now, it seems like everything is falling into place on its own. Maybe it's just my change in perception since Sam's death. Maybe I'm going about things differently now. Maybe I'm just older and wiser. Or maybe it's just time to do what I was put here to do.

I'd love to meet Robert Rodriguez someday. I've already met Ray Harryhausen and worked for Richard Edlund. Why not a film icon my own age, who does things the way I do?