concrete trenches
sometimes more feet than shoes.

Thursday, July 31, 2003  

One lump or two

I'm in sunny Edinburgh, and by sunny of course I mean grey and crappy. But, it's a cool little city, full of rocks and old things, a big castle, a big extinct volcano and a bunch of weird theatre people.

Also, I can't understand a thing the bus drivers say. Or the baristias. When ordering a coffee, I was asked "One shooter?" meaning one shot of espresso. Oh, no, two. Yeah, that would be "one sugar."

Tech went extra bad yesterday, four hours to go through about 20 minutes of the play. We were able to get some extra rehearsal time in the space, which we were going to use for a run through but will probably use to finish teching the show. Gawd. They should just bring the lights up, and take them down, instead of this dumb artsy crap.

Jet lag is almost gone, but it's still hard to sleep at night. Or maybe it's hard to sleep at night knowing that people are going to be coming to see the play soon.

| posted by christopher | 7:44 AM

Tuesday, July 29, 2003  


Sitting in the Copenhagen Airport, using wireless internet access that costs 60 DKK for an hour. I slept a little on the plane, and dreamed of being a concertina stuffed into a shoe box and hidden under a bed that smelled like pancakes. It's about 7am Evil West time, and I really want one of those gigantic Danish beers people are drinking all around me. We had a little bit of grumpy travel, but not much. We thought we would have to claim our bags here instead of in Edinburgh (jet lag makes ya stoopid) and had to reenter through security. When sorting out our high high high speed film, one of the security women said "Just put it through the machine, it's fine."

BG: "No, it's professional grade high-speed film"

DSW: "The x-rays are not so high. Just put it through next time."

BG: "It's high speed film, the machine can ruin it."

DSW: "We don't do it that way in Denmark."

My question: in Denmark, do you suck it?

| posted by christopher | 9:46 AM

Saturday, July 26, 2003  

Everytime we say goodbye

Here we go, off to merry ole' Britain. We walk the dog tonight in front of people, calling it a "benefit" performance. Actually, it's a desperate plea for money to help defray the cost of production. The only reason I've let anyone know about it is because I'd like a little of the massive amounts of time, energy, and cash I've wasted on this piece of shit to float back my way.

But dear god, these are enemies to theatre.

Anyway, off to Scotland, where I'll get the occasional internet connection and will send terse notes. I'm planning on keeping a diary there. The Scotland Diary, or, My Fringe Turd. Please, if you can spare a thought or two of positive energy, I'm quite sure I'm gonna need it.

| posted by christopher | 3:14 PM

Friday, July 25, 2003  

USA Today recommends washing your clubs before getting on a plane so the fertilizer from the course won't be mistaken for explosives

I golf. There, I said it. I know, golf's not cool and therefore cool in a retro not cool way. I got into golf by my Golf Buddy, who was my Geek Buddy and Theatre Buddy before that. It seems I like it. He tried for years to get me to golf, and I laughed at him. I should not have doubted him. Seldom has he led me astray. Plus, we often golf high. But I digress.

I golf, but in a fit of restraint uncommon to me, I left my clubs in Queens. I've golfed a couple of times here in the Evil West, but rented clubs each time. Galling. Plus, I'm leaving for freakin' Scotland in a couple of days without my golf clubs. This is a high crime, punishable by playing a round with a ten year old who out plays you by the difference in your age.

Came to find out yesterday that the "directors" husband golfs. Of course he golfs, he's a Scot. His dad apparently has clubs I should be able to use while in Edinburgh. So I will be playing golf in the cradle of the game, with a bonafied (bonny-fied) Scotsman. Is an incomprehensible brogue far behind?

| posted by christopher | 2:53 PM

Thursday, July 24, 2003  

Not that they were being used all that much

Where have all the comments gone?
Blog time passing
Where have all the comments gone?
Klink family blows.
Where have all the comments gone?
Lost to ether everyone.
When will I ever learn?
When will I ev - - - - - er learn?

| posted by christopher | 2:26 PM

Wednesday, July 23, 2003  

Bush Style Economics

All the time spent away from rehearsing the beast is spent in cramming BG's stuff into boxes. All day yesterday (our only day off) was spent packing and doing laundry. Today, packing for Edinburgh and packing the apartment up some more.

Also, starting to feel the pinch of not working. I'm going to sink a little into the hole this summer. It's been years since I felt the dogs of debt nipping at my heels (mainly because X had so much damn money). Ung. But it'll get paid off, and the trip will be worth the expense. Yeah. Breathe. Breathe.

| posted by christopher | 1:47 PM

Monday, July 21, 2003  

Lazy hazy crazy Oh how I wish

The clock ticks and the sound is overpowering. We have to have BG's apartment packed by, oh, tomorrow or so. We leave for Scotland on Monday. We have so much rehearsal and so little time.

Things I'm looking forward to:

* Scotch in the land where it was born

* Seeing a show worse than mine

* Being done and taking a week with BG traveling the British Isle

* Picture taking

* Getting back to the city

| posted by christopher | 3:55 PM

Friday, July 18, 2003  


I'm taking a show all the way to Scotland, and it turns out that it might be crap. I am less than confidant in the directors abilities. But here I am, and it's too late now (i.e., the plane ticket is purchased). At least I am missing the annual New York Urine Festival, playing every July through August.

Also - the show is taking up so much time, and I'm so far away from regular internet, that I'm not updating nearly as much as I'd like. Be patient, regular updates are coming back to a concrete trench near you.

| posted by christopher | 2:12 PM

Tuesday, July 15, 2003  

Promises, promises

So, the weekend wedding was fun, but a pain in the ass it was to get out of town. We are so bloody busy with these looooong rehearsals that we really had to scramble to get our shit together. By the time we got to the lodge I was a grumpy gus.

BG's pals spend their get togethers playing something called "Happy Fun Ball." Think volleyball with a beach ball and a four hit, one bounce rule. Even with these lax rules, competition is fierce. At first, I had no interest, and stayed on the porch learning my lines. But soon, the sound of fun and the heat and the sunshine all conspired to get me off my antisocial ass and over to the net.

I became "New Guy."

I had a blast. These people are the nicest people I have ever met in my life. Kind, giving, fun. Damn. I had no idea. I find myself looking forward to meeting them again.

The wedding was very do-it-yourself and very nice. This was my first nuptial since the demise of my marriage, and the feelings were mixed. Better luck to them + how could I have been so wrong + yeah, well, we'll see if THAT'S true in three years = mixy-uppy feelings. Still and all, a great weekend spent with people I didn't know, but ended up hugging as I left.

And there was a hot tub.

| posted by christopher | 3:25 PM

Monday, July 14, 2003  

You never call me anymore

I know, I've been a bad blogger lately. It's not because I don't like you, or like spending time with you. And, no, I don't have another blog. You're really the only blog I care about. It's just that I've been really busy with rehearsals and stuff. Plus, BG and I had to go to this wedding this weekend. I really will tell you about it, but I just can't right now. I don't need space, really, just understanding. As long as you don't want other posters, I don't want to post to any other blog. If you love me, you'll understand.

| posted by christopher | 3:33 PM

Thursday, July 10, 2003  

One of those days

Some days are harder than others, when navigating the ins and outs of life with someone else.

| posted by christopher | 3:11 PM

Wednesday, July 09, 2003  

Creation myth

As I've mentioned in many posts, my "creativity" has been bothering me lately. My writing, my acting, my accounting. All are in need of a major tune up.

Also, I'm getting fat.

So, sitting at my favorite coffee place, with the AirPort, I'm typing with my bike gloves on and ready for the first step toward a whole new me: self-aggrandizement, self-promotion, and repeated self-bolstering. ("I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it! people like me!") With this in mind, and before I pedal to the first rehearsal-in-earnest of my Scotland Adventure Play, a little story about how I became an actor.

I was seventeen, and had been performing in school plays since sixth grade. My junior year of high school, though, gave me my first real leading role as Jesus in Godspell. It was my first experience with truly creating something on stage, since most plays before that were an exercise in following stage directions. Opening night (which my parents could not attend as Dad was out of town) went very well, with the gymnasium theatre packed. At the end of the evening, yours truly is "crucified," peeled off the set, and carried out through the house. When we got back to the stage and turned around to bow, the entire house was standing up. As I was bent over I thought "I could do this."

When I finally got home that night, my mother was reading in her bed. She called down, asking how it went. "Great," I said when I got to her room. She was propped with her book. "Really great. In fact, I think this is what I want to do for a living." She looked at me for a second over her glasses, returned her eyes to the book, turned the page and said "Don't you want to eat?"

And I wonder why I doubt myself.

PS - I've taken a look at a video tape of that formative performance. I can still smell it.

| posted by christopher | 4:21 PM

Tuesday, July 08, 2003  


We hauled ass to S.F. to see her best bud, and to see my pal in a Big Broadway Tour. We camped on the way to the city by the bay, in a roadside state park. Literally roadside. I was woken up by what I thought was lightning but actually turned out to be trucks pulling into the rest stop next to our campsite. The ride into the city was so bloody hot. The city was so bloody cold. The show was good, my pal was fab (of course), and her bud was kind and sweet and a little wary of me.

We were touristy, and took pics of that big bridge. I almost died taking a picture of a family. I sat on the railing of an observation platform with a view of the bridge, but couldn't back up far enough to get the bridge and the large family. I fell off the railing, but caught myself with my legs and ended up hanging by my feet, one hand barely touching the ground. BG resisted the urge to take a picture, but I sure would like to see what I look like surprised and inverted.

Up the California coast. I assume it was the coast, because that's what the signs said. It was foggy foggy foggy. And the traffic out of S.F. was awful, truly. We camped the first night next to the Ass Family, who decided 1am is a fine time to boogie down. Also, when you lock all your food in the car, remember also to roll up the windows, or the raccoons will also boogie down and eat all your bread, and make off with your cookies.

Then the radio died.

The next campsite was lovely, next to the grandma bravely taking her toddler granddaughters to the woods. She invited us over for s'mores. Also, the ranger's office had taxidermied wild animals on display.

The last site was the most private, except for coming back from the beach and seeing an older couple walking their gigantic poodle through our site. "Oh, we're just picking elderberries," said the woman. Except I think if they eat those "elderberries" they might get very sick.

Stopped at the BG's sires for laundry, dinner, and some broadcast media. Then sweet sweet mattress.

The trip also included car sickness, gigantic fireballs with singed girlfriend hair, $5.00 replacement Tang (tm), line learning, bourbon, a coked-out man named "Radyo," tent-love, sore backs, and lots and lots of laughing.

| posted by christopher | 1:50 PM

Monday, July 07, 2003  

California SucksCalifornia Sucks

Seriously. We camped and saw shows and I've not the time to relate it all here, because real life is calling, and rehearsal begins in a few hours and I have to have passport sized photos taken. More to come. Much more...

| posted by christopher | 4:32 PM
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