Tuesday, 28 March 2006 10:11 pm
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deckardcanineI just completed two consecutive early work days followed by musical rehearsals, essentially starting work at 8 AM and ending at 9 PM. It's not as bad as that sounds, of course. I arranged to be at the office one hour less than usual each day with the stipulation that I work thru lunch by eating at my desk. Thing is, I usually do that anyway.
You know those movie directors portrayed in cartoons and such who have almost no patience? The same could be said of theater directors. If you ever want to see someone furious for hours on end, go to a final-week rehearsal for a junior high musical with a large cast. Sure, you could watch a drill sergeant in action, but they act angry on general principle; this is more genuine. Fortunately, she doesn't yell at old friends like my mom and me. Maybe it's the familiarity or maybe it's the fact that we don't mess up as badly as the students.
Yesternight, while we were eating pizza and brownie cupcakes in the cafeteria (we got better dinner from the parents this evening), some kids started playing with a microphone. This would usually be a bad thing, but it turned out pretty entertaining. They had a democratically judged impromptu freestyling contest. Hopefully needless to say, the raps were crap -- but fun crap. In an unusually extroverted frame of mind, I started thinking up a variant of "Gangsta's Paradise" to perform (As I walk through the junior high I used to attend, I take a look at the kids and realize they're way bent...). Then it occurred to me that even the ninth graders would have been watching "Sesame Street" back when that song was popular.
Makes me feel old. But I still wonder if someone will mistake me for a ninth grader.
You know those movie directors portrayed in cartoons and such who have almost no patience? The same could be said of theater directors. If you ever want to see someone furious for hours on end, go to a final-week rehearsal for a junior high musical with a large cast. Sure, you could watch a drill sergeant in action, but they act angry on general principle; this is more genuine. Fortunately, she doesn't yell at old friends like my mom and me. Maybe it's the familiarity or maybe it's the fact that we don't mess up as badly as the students.
Yesternight, while we were eating pizza and brownie cupcakes in the cafeteria (we got better dinner from the parents this evening), some kids started playing with a microphone. This would usually be a bad thing, but it turned out pretty entertaining. They had a democratically judged impromptu freestyling contest. Hopefully needless to say, the raps were crap -- but fun crap. In an unusually extroverted frame of mind, I started thinking up a variant of "Gangsta's Paradise" to perform (As I walk through the junior high I used to attend, I take a look at the kids and realize they're way bent...). Then it occurred to me that even the ninth graders would have been watching "Sesame Street" back when that song was popular.
Makes me feel old. But I still wonder if someone will mistake me for a ninth grader.