Dirty Taps and Dirty Limos

Hey.

I'm hung over like all get out.

I picked up my car on the way to work.

It was at the bar.

Taught a workshop for kids last night (age range: preteen to adult- so I guess "kids" is a little general). They were understanding all the games waaay to fast... and then I found out that some were Citadel kids. Er, adults... Homosapiens.

Saw a limousine with a makeshift trailer (made of black wood, cart-style) attached this morning. It also had a custom (poorly made) roofrack. It was beat up a little, and the windshield was cracked.

Awesome.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some gravol and Ginger Ale with my name on it.

Song of the Day: "San Diego" by the Starlight Mints. Used to like this band a lot, and still do a little. Come and listen to it at http://www.myspace.com/ladylovinlynx

Link of the Day: http://profile.myspace.com/744055
Senor Cardgage's profile... so cool...
For those of you who don't know who he is... http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail92.html

On June 1, at 7:30 PM...

...Be ready to rock the most metal library in the city (IDYLWYLDE!! Meedilymeedilymeedily) and do a workshop with yours truly.

It's a workshop for absolute beginners in Improv, so if you have experience, you might want to leave this one in the dust.

Here's the thing though. You've got to register. I think you can just call them (496-1808).

Link of the day: http://www.myspace.com/ladylovinlynx
Hee hee, I don't know what I'm doing with this page yet.

Song of the day: "Jackass" by Beck. Found a live recording of sorts, and put it on the link above. Maybe that's the function that page will serve... Songs of the day. Yes.

Whyte Avenue Urban Legends... Onstage?

So, the P-jam returned to an idea we tried once; The Urban Legend game.

Without going into too much detail (because I already explained it once), we re-tell a myth onstage and provide some insight as to how it happened.

It made me think that Whyte Avenue (or Edmonton in general) must have some urban legends or myths attached to it... Curious if anybody knows any of them or who to ask.

Or maybe our Dirty Ol' Town actually has clean laundry, I don't know.

Or maybe Edmonton Urban Legends are boring (which means we could spice 'em up?).

Or maybe I'm reaching for something that isn't there.

Or maybe I'm amazed by you. Maybe Baby... I seriously digress.

Gimme your myths and legends. They might be from your school, work, or massage parlour. I'm sure there are some.

Or be hilarious and make up one.

Link of the day: http://www.normandcompany.com/SM1GAME/newsplash.html
Why not? Solve a stickman murder.

Song of the day: "Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing. There's a highly entertaining remix out there. I enjoyed it.

I Wash Myself with a Rag on a Stick.

Some forced perspective going on here, but that's still a big effin rabbit.

The Rise of Lawrence Bideaux?

Yes. A reincarnation.

Some of you maybe read the story about my clownie alterego, Bido.

Well, I think I found his new look.

You see, sometimes (more often than not), I'd say people are totally weirded out by clowns. Either you hate them, they make you feel uncomfortable, or the "uncoolness" of being one makes you want to punch them.

However, I like a well-performed or sincere clown.

I think most people would rather not get to know a clown. The mere appearance of a red nose is like a stop sign or a medicalert tag that says "Warning: Very likely to annoy and follow those who least want anything to do with me. There is no vaccine."

So I can solve that problem. I'm going to take Bido's nose away for a while, and I'm going to give him an alterego.

Aw yeah. Very Gemini.

I will call Bido's alterego Lawrence Bideaux. I don't know when or where he'll make his debut, but it's bound to happen. Essentially, he's a very confident man who believes he can do anything he wants at any time. Become a hockey player? No problem. Become Canada's next Prime Minister? Easy. Do burpees from Edmonton to Calgary? Before breakfast.

But the only problem will be, he fails outright every time. It's more the journey that'll be the story, not so much the accomplishment... Well, not the thing he set out to accomplish. I'm sure he'll get all sorts of unintentional glory on the way...

Perhaps some short films will be the way to introduce him. Around 2 or 3 minutes long, just to warm people up to the idea at first.

Then, the climb up Everest, using only his teeth.

Link of the Day: http://www.snopes.com/photos/animals/animals.asp
Copius pictures of real and fake animal encounters. Enjoy.

Song of the Day: "Hanging on the Telephone" by Def Leppard. You heard me. Def Leppard has a new, 2006 album of covers. Including this one, originally done by Blondie, also covered by L7.

Ta Da: The Rise and Fall of Bido

Before you read me, why don't you check out Jesse?
http://fret-buzz.livejournal.com/
Carry on.

Once upon a time, I was a clown named Bido.

No, not some sort of party clown. I don't really know how to make balloon animals or squirt kids in the face with clown-acid out of my novelty flower.

An actual, classic, traditional (with a splash of "discovering the clown within" courtesy of Jan Henderson) clown.

It took a summer of hard training at the University of Alberta, my involvement in a show that had some "clowning" in it (entitled Move-Ease, it was often criticized for trying to have too many ideas in one show, but most viewers agreed it was a fun romp), and a year's worth of physical theatre training in a Lecoq-style school for myself to feel confident enough to actually take the show on the road.

Yes, my friends, I did a clown-street performing show a few years back at Fort McMurray's interPLAY festival... And I brought along a friend of mine, who I now have completely lost track of, named Benjamin Roy. Our little acting troupe (also including Melissa Everitt for creative input and housing) was called the Special Blend; Get it? Shawn (Special) and Ben (Blend)?

I'm special.

Anyway, the show was well attended, as we were in an outside busking venue with a huge stage. The routine consisted of a brief commedia dell' arte lazze in which myself and Ben performed as Hamtore and Bob (for those in the know, these were takes on the characters Arlecchino and Brigellha). Then, the main routine consisted of Ben as "Announcer Guy" and myself as Bido.

The story goes, we trained a weasel to juggle scrarves in it's mouth while balancing on a teeter board, and then he jumps through a hoop as the grand finale. Naturally, the "weasel" (concealed inside a hat) attacks Bido and he has to kill it (stomping on the hat). As a replacement, we attempt to have "Speedo" (a miniature replica marionette) perform those stunts. But he dies of a heart attack due to stage fright and a larger-than-life threat provided by Bido.

Of course, Bido has to perform the trick himself.

Then, to wrap things up, Bido challenges an audience member to a "Big Contest", and a burly man would always be picked. We would reveal the contest to be a stripping contest, much to the joy(?) of the audience.

But here's the fall of the story: As an inexperienced street performer, I forgot the "money speech" at the end of one of our shows.

And guess what happened? $40, that's what happened.

From a crowd of about 150.

Yeah, when you find a creative way to get people to come up and give you some money, they do (the show the day before brought in about $200).

And thus, the Bido show was put on hiatus. Perhaps permanently.

So a lesson to all aspiring street performers: ASK FOR MONEY. Find a way. Your audience will deliver.

Link of the Day: http://www.foolmoon.org/
The home of Jan Henderson, who heightened my clowning ability.

Song of the Day: "Circus Song" By The Gandharvas. These Canadians were an interesting batch.

Spoon in Your Head

My sister's boyfriend pointed it out to me while I was watching hockey the other night;

"No family watches commericals more closely than the Pallier Family."

Which is true, to a point.

I know there is a car commercial out there where when the car in question drives by, everything around it is "turned on". Little robots in store windows dance, balloons inflate and take a girl high in the sky and... a woman's vibrator "turns on" in her purse?!

Yeah, next time you watch that commercial, watch for it.

The problem is, I'm so distracted by that moment, I don't know what the commercial is for.

Same thing happened with the new commercial for Satellite Radio (but which one? Sirius? XM Radio? See my problem?). I'm so distracted by the fact that the commercial seems to compare one of my favorite bands, Spoon, with Bob Dylan and Ludacris(??).

Basically, they're saying you'll "discover" your favorite band on their radio stations just like music executives "discovered" Bob Dylan at a Laundromat, Ludacris in the woods(??), and another artist at a bus stop... can't remember who.

But I'm so distracted by Spoon's awesomeness, I don't care what the product is.

Now that's backfiring advertising.

Link of the Day: http://www.spoontheband.com/site.html
Spoon rocks.

Song of the Day: "Sister Jack" by Spoon. 'Tis the song in the commercial.

Brilliance (or Smile-Inducing Stupidity...)

So I've been watching the 1980's series "Sledge Hammer!" on DVD lately.

The first thing I've discovered is it was partially written by Al Jean, of "The Simpsons" fame (or infamy, depending on how you feel about the Simpsons). The second thing I've discovered is the budget wasn't very high.

But the most important thing I've noticed about the series is it's impossible-to-decipher target audience.

On the surface, it's a spoof of the Cop show genre. And it could also be said it's done "Naked Gun/Police Story"-style spoof. But for those who watch far too many movies, every single episode is also based on the outline of a movie... well, maybe a couple were not, but almost all were (hey, kind of like the Simpsons...).

So if you've seen the movie they're spoofing, the comedy can be seen as brilliant. If you haven't seen the movie they're spoofing, you might find yourself saying,

"What is this shit and how did it get on the air?"

So who was this show made for? Cop-show buffs? Movie buffs? Spoof-lovers? All of the above? Is there such thing as someone who loves all of the above at the same time?

Don't take my word for it, see it for yourself.

link of the day:
http://www.sledgehammeronline.com/

Song of the day:
"Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin. Because this series also makes me think of "Get Smart", check out how Robert Plant's vocals from the opening of this song totally robs the "Get Smart" Theme song. Hilarious.

Your Own Worst Enemy

Rapid Fire Theatre puts on great improv shows.

And sometimes, we beat ourselves up about it.

Glad to report, not so much this week, but sometimes, we give ourselves a hell of a tough time. As an audience member recently pointed out;

"Don't worry so much. You're awesome."

She meant us as a whole, the collective "you're", if you will.

If the improvisers change the way we look at the shows we do, we can have fun and not suck all at the same time.

Of course, if we deserve a tongue-lashing, we almost always know that... But less self tongue-lashing is probably a good idea.

Besides, there are better ways to stay clean.

Song of the Day: Rockin' Robin by Bobby Day. It's my second-favorite Karaoke song of all time.

Link of the Day: http://www.artifactstrading.com
I designed the site, and I don't know what else to do with it. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know... I do plan on adding about 14,990 more items, though...

How to Open a Can of Worms in One Easy Step!

Check this out.

After recently seeing "American Dreamz" (boy oh boy, are the reviews gonna be mixed on this one), I noticed a line Hugh Grant said, and had a good laugh. It went something like this:

"Alright. I have all the freak-show singers I need, but where is the one I can masterbate to?"

I thought to myself, now there's a line that would not win you points with a person that you were trying to put the moves on... Realizing (of course) that his character (Simon Cowell) would never say that to someone's face (or would he?).

I just imagined the scenario though, as something really casual.

Say you're sitting with a friend of yours, enjoying a tea at the local "teaporium". You look across the table at them, and say;

"So, I know we're just friends and all, but, do you ever think of me when you masterbate?"

And the person across the table says,

"Dude, you just totally crossed the line and are dancing towards a new, previously undiscovered line... What's your problem?"

And you're all like,

"It's just a question... Conservative right-wing jerk."

And then you continue to drink tea, and ruin a friendship.

Sounds like fun to me.

Link of the Day: http://ilovecakelikeabrother.blogspot.com
Jeremey the workshopper's blog.

Song of the Day: "Hallelujah" by Imogen Heap. Proof yet again that everyone loves Leonard Cohen. Even Bono, Jeff Buckley, John Cale, Allison Crowe, k.d. lang, Bob Dylan, Rufus Wainwright, Elisa, Gavin DeGraw, Arooj Aftab and the Jazz Mandolin Project. Everyone.

Insight from a Coconut

I discovered recently that sometimes, when we put our heads together onstage we can:

a) achieve anything
b) make a coconut-like sound

Both have the potential to be entertaining and engaging.

Speaking of achievements, I think this invention should be given a second chance.
http://www.toothpastefordinner.com/051206/chinese-food-bong.gif
Thanks, Jeremey.

"Loose" by Iggy and the Stooges. If anyone can find me the cover that Spoon did of this song, let me know.

Idle and Wild-- Two Cops Who Just Don't Get Along

So, I'm conducting a workshop for the Edmonton Public Library.

Shhhhhhhh...

Sorry.

The age limit on the poster says 13 to 19, because that's what the library wanted.

However, everyone and their dog has been asking if they can take it. From 11 year-olds to 35 year-olds. Hell, even the people who asked me to do this teen-related workshop asked me is if folks in their 20s could take it.

Seriously, I don't care. Bring down Grandma, Grandpa and unborn phoetuses. Mummies and Mommies. Little people and those with acromegaly. Bring'em all, and sign 'em up at the Idylwylde Library near Bonnie Doon Mall.

The only library named by 1985 headbangers. Welcome to the IDYLWYLDE!!! Meedilymeedilymeedily!!

Link of the Day: http://www.headbangers.tv/ I didn't mean these headbangers... who are these headbangers, anyway?

Song of the Day: "Into the Fire" by Dokken. Rock and rolla.

PS-- The Doctor Jamie Cavanagh is in... http://ramblingjamie.blogspot.com/

Decoding the Dream

So I'm having this dream-- I'm in a sort-of "band class", but the only problem is, I don't have an instrument. And my sheet music is in my locker.

My locker is in the room, but I don't know the combination. I tell myself "Be cool, your fingers will know the combination." And you know what?

They did.

And then, I realize that I wouldn't know how to play the instrument (probably a trombone) anyway. Now that I have the music, I don't know how to read it, and I haven't played any instrument for a decade.

And, even though my adrenaline is really starting to race, I'm not overly scared...

And then I wake up.

How did I know the locker combination? This must relate to some sort of Improvisational something, but what does it mean?

Link of the Day: http://www.snopes.com/horrors/insects/cactus.htm
The truth behind the spider-cactus thingie!

Song of the Day: "Territorial Pissings (Live)", by From Autumn To Ashes. And you thought Nirvana would be the only band to tear through this one... No way.

As Uncle Carl Once Said...

Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.

or was that Abraham Lincoln?... Gerald Ford?.... Freddie Mercury?

Oh, no wait, it was totally Victoria Chevrolet. Yeah, that's it.

Song of the Day: "Warmth Of The Sand" by Dashboard Confessional. Seriously, playing Rexall Place? Where was I when they got that popular?

NEW FEATURE!! Link of the Day: http://www.engrish.com/recent_detail.php?imagename=wealthy-person-lump.jpg&category=Signs/Posters&date=2006-04-29

Hee hee. Remember, no bombs! Oh yeah, and that crazy engrish stuff! And No Preaching!

Pulling Your Wire(s) and Living Life

Yessir, the most recent way somebody stumbled across me was by searching for:

"Edmonton Oilers and boobies on Whyte Avenue."

I suggest to this individual (who lives here in Edmonton according to my high-tech tracking gizmo) that if he or she would like to see boobies on Whyte Avenue, just go to Whyte Avenue! There are plenty of boobies that don't have to come to you through a wire on your computer screen; They can come to you in REAL LIFE!

And the Oilers won last night. Maaaan, you shoulda gone there last night... I'm sure there was plenty of "Edmontonflesh" on display.

Oh, and while I'm at it, alleeall searching for Funny Nicknames and coming to my site to look for one; Funny nicknames are not looked up on a computer. They are given specifically to specific people whom are suited to that particular funny nickname. You can't just go start calling your friend "Dutchess Fruity Pants" because somebody once had that nickname, and you think it's funny. No No. A funny nickname is earned, not thrown at someone like a beer bottle.

And while we're on the topic of specifics and earning things, you might notice I'm not shoveling a lot of improvisational advice at y'all lately. That's because I'm becoming more and more aware that you can't give the same improv advice to everyone... This is a highly-specialized world of performing and if everyone tryed to pull a Seering Meer, a Mad Crad, or a... Bevvy of Kevvy(?) out of their ass, you'd get one thing: A sore ass, from trying to pull something out of it that wasn't there.

Every single member of Rapid Fire Theatre is going to find their own voice, their own style, and you'll find what works for them is sooo not what works for someone else.

So... who wants to go to Whyte Avenue with me after the next Oilers game?

Song of the Day: "Black Night" (DJ Baba G & Dan the Automator Remix) by Badar Ali Kahn. How many old school samples can 2 DJs fit in one song? The answer is ALL OF THEM!
Building, Constructing...
Groove Modulation... Grr, grr, Groove Modulation!

Two Turntables, but no Microphone

I am now the proud owner of a "portable" RCA Victor Record Player.

It looks like a suitcase, but when you open it, two silver-thread covered speakers that look like coffins fold out, and a Garrard Turntable drops down. Just to give you an idea of it's age, this sucker has 4 speeds! (16(!), 33, 45, and 78 rpm). The only problem is this: It doesn't really play records fast enough. It's spinning just slow enough that David Bowie sounds a little more sad than usual... Now, I have 2 turntables that don't really work, but hey, a collection I have started.

My new addition came to me because I was helping an elderly woman move out of her west-end house. She is a Holocaust survivor. I was told she is a candy-maker (I don't know what the official title for a candy-maker is-- confecionist? Sugarmonger?). She says that she survived the concentration camps because of her talent to make candy with very little ingredients and means. That made her an effective member of society, and useful according to her.

Her husband passed away not too long ago. All his clothes could be fit into 3 very small boxes. I saved his hat.

Song of the Day: "Fame" by David Bowie. It's the song I used to demo the Victrola... For those who are more curious about the record player, it says all this throughout the piece:
New Vista All Transistor Stereo
RCA Victor Victrola Record Player
model# VS14, Made in Montreal, Canada
(Turntable: AT6 Garrard, Made in England)

Telefunny?

Where would modern man be without the telephone?

I mean, it sure cleared up that old-timey story device where a telegram would arrive "just in time". It seems to me far more likely that a phone call would, so hazzah to the telephone for helping stories (or hindering? discuss).

But boo to the phone for helping us lie.

Man, it's easy to be deceptive over the phone. Maybe the Jetsons had it right: Visaphones. Then, you'd have to sort of look at the other person and tell them the truth... Instead of something about a plan you've got with someone else, you could say:

"Yeah, well as you can see, I'm in my boxers, I'm eating out of a box of cereal, I'm watching Maury, and my hair is all askew. And that's just a little lazy for 7 pm. Yeah, I taped Maury. No, not Tivo'd, what do you think I am, a high-paid hooker? I can't afford no Tivo. Look at this place!"

Then, you could pan your visaphone camera around the room, showing the results of your bohemian lifestyle.

But right now? I can tell you I have a meeting with the president of the United States, and that I'm very busy counting my mountains of gold coins.

And you'd be none the wiser.

I am the Dungeonmaster... No, seriously.

Got some free time? Play this:

http://www.homestarrunner.com/dman3.html

I passed with a perfect score. And it's totally fun.

Need help? Let me know....

Oh, and I have to say, my exploration of Punk Culture has lead me to one point so far:

Strangely, the anti-establishment/ anti-capitalist message has become blatantly blurred. To join the non-conformist, you have to conform... to the non-conformist ways.

Whoa.

And for those who didn't go to the P-Jam, I think I'm going to rock out a new game in the coming weeks. We Called it: URBAN LEGENDS!! I think it was one of the most hilarious games I've ever seen.

Essentially, you ask the audience for an urban legend (a possibly true event that probably wasn't true, but is somewhat plausible, and that didn't happen to you; you heard if from a friend or the internet etc). Then, we perform it.

Sounds simple, and it is. We did "The Exploding Cactus", in which the legend is, a couple brought a cactus back from Arizona with them, and it was filled with spider-eggs, which then "exploded" all over the living room. Spiders everywhere.

The key to what made the scene so hilarious when it was performed was the element of surprise. Chad was pretending to be a child (the couple threw a party for their son in our version of the story) swinging a bat at a pinata, and of course, we were all waiting in anticipation for him to hit the cactus.

However, the cactus simply exploded on it's own, and holy mother, it made me giggle. Because we all knew what was going to happen, and then, something way more simple did... And Cactus-man, you're awesome. Why can't I remember your name?

Song of the Day "Too Drunk to F**k" by the Dead Kennedys. Thanks, Lindsay, for your lending of music.

UPDATE: "Read My Hips" finally makes sense...

Just a quick line to say, I read over "Read My Hips", and I think it finally makes sense. You see, I should explain, I make all of these posts just before my shift starts at work (or during work, if the mood catches me...shhhh....)

So occasionally, A story about the sin of pride becomes a brief rant about swinging balls.

Sigh...

So, I guess the moral of the story is, don't rush things. Unless you're rescuing people from a burning building.

Or making minute rice.

Or if you're in an eating contest.

Or if you really need to go to the bathroom.

Or if someone is about to get hit by a car, and you have to push them out of your way.

Or if someone is killing you, and you need to get away.

I'm sure there are more examples.

Anywhoo, on to today's real post, about Calgary and stuff:

The Calgary Flames, without the F.

Can't they do anything right?

Man, I was right all those years ago when I wrote a parody poem (I think in Grade 7) of " The Cremation of Sam McGee", which I called "Bill McCree".

Here is a small section (the only section I remember...)

"... Now Bill McCree was from Calgary
Where the Flames go to the playoffs and choke
Why he left his home
in the South to roam
Edmonton, easy! More dope to smoke.
He was wrong, he was told
But his house was already sold..."

And so on an so forth.

All Edmonton wanted to do was beat you, Calgary, in the second round of the playoffs. But you just couldn't step up to the plate, could you?

Song of the day: "Do You Know the Way to San Jose" by Burt Bacharach. Hehe.

Read My Hips

So, I was collecting money for the Level 2 workshop at the RFT space last night.

Just before I left, I said "Read My Blog!".

I then mentioned the plethora of hits I'd been getting (y'all know how I hate to brag).

And then I swung a mimed pair of gigantic testicles, clanking them together and doing a little dance on my way out of the room.

I don't get it (my sudden more-idiotic-than-usual behaviour)... Perhaps it was karma, making me pay for my deadly sin of pride.

But I can't blame karma for everything... can I?

Song of the Day: "Verbal Anime" by The Herbaliser. Because it makes about as much sense as I do... But hey, I'm having a freak-ass good time. Clanky-clank!

Tiptoe through The Two Lips and the Stage

I'm a little concerned that I'm amplifying a little. You know, making a big deal of nothing.

I've been thinking (too much) lately about misinterpretation, and things said (and did) that didn't mean the same thing to one as it did to the other, or even the original delivery of something onstage that turned out to (universally) mean something that it never intended to mean.

And hey, sometimes it can be hilarious. You can accidentally suggest something onstage that makes you look witty as hell.

But ho, sometimes it can be dangerous. You can accidentally suggest something onstage that makes you look racist, sexist, gay-bashing, and in poor taste.

I'm not going to cite any specifics here. But I can't help but think about it. It's like "broken glass in my head" (John Coffey said that in the Green Mile, and I felt that line big time).

So, for those of you following along, you'll notice that I still haven't found a way that I'm satisfied with to fix this thing I've got with onstage choices. But I'm working on it.

Here is a thing though, that I would like to offer the host of the show or the audience when any one of us says something inappropriate; The Ring of Shame. Let's use it in situations where something like that happens. For a fake example:

BERTOLD: Well, it looks like it's just you and me, loyal sheep. Here, let's huddle for warmth. (BERTOLD mime-cuddles sheep, he accidentally looks like perhaps he's caressing the sheep's bottom... audience laughs tentatively).

HOST: (aside, to note-taker, whispering) Dude, is Bertold gonna launch into a Sheep-shagging joke? That's not only dumb, that's inappropriate. Let's shame'em.

NOTE-TAKER: Agreed. Shame will be awarded upon conclusion of the scene.

I find we use the ring often in only really obvious situations, or only when it would be comical to do so. Let's start using it again for inappropriateness, shall we?

Because sometimes, the actors involved didn't know that they did anything wrong. Then, we can get that out in the open, instead of feeling bad about it afterwards.

We've got it, we introduce it at the top of the show, let's use it.

Song of the Day: "Attitude" By The Inbreds. These guys were the original rock duo (drums and guitar), and from Canada no less. Meh, but I really don't know if they're the original. I just know they predate Meg and Jack by about 10 years.

Beating Hearts of the Collective Brothers and Sisters of Oilertown (and surrounding areas)

We must keep the faith.

I once said-- Oilers in 7.

Now I say-- Oilers in 6.

What what?!

Too Old To Punk 'N' Roll

Even though Ritchie already did it, mad shouts and hollers to Lindsay, who I don't care if she's too hung over to go out tonight again, she's going out tonight... again.

And while all the Lindsaytalk, I'd like to mention this: From what I understand, Punk is not a music one likes, it is a music one lives. It's totally a lifestyle, which sometimes makes me feel a little locked out from it. I fee like I could never dedicate enough time to understand some of the more subtle nuances. I'd love for her to by my Punk tutor.

Same goes with Goth, even though it's (seemingly) dying out from the frays of mainstream and back to the underworld, I think the reason why I don't have a Sisters of Mercy CD is because I'd just be a big poseur if I did. And (dangerous territory here), the music overall is a wee campy from what I can tell anyway.

But I musn't talk about what I don't know. Enlighten me.

So this will be my first show with my new take on improv tonight. I (as mentioned in an earlier post) was having a lot of fun for a while, but I think it's time to find the middle ground. Good, loose improv with a mindful braincell on the appropriateness of the improv itself. No panicky-panicky, but no potty-mouthy either.

Or impro... Shoud I be calling it impro? Or is that just the name of the book...

I noticed some people call it Impro, sometimes.

Song of the day: "Return of Django" by The Upsetters. Because everybody should have some happy-go-lucky ska-ish reggae-ish rocksteady-ish Lee "Scratch" Perry in their album collection. And check out the squeaky sax solo. Badass.

Mrs. Jones, Part 2... We're Gonna be Big Stars...

I was reading yesterday's "rant". It needs work.

I guess I'm mostly angry because all the good Oiler stuff has been sold out everywhere. Or I don't really have time to go and get it. You know those window flags I was talking about? I don't have them yet, but I was hoping to get them by today...

Yeah, in retrospect, I'm a follower. And you know what? That's okay.

It's that unnecessary stigma that surrounds "following". It's nothing new to say "It's not the band I hate, it's the fans." It's old hat to say "I used to like (blank), until they sold out." It's not unusual to refer to something as going "commerical".

Hey, I imagine there are people out there that say "Theatresports was cool, until it stared to sell out. I don't go any more."

Actually, those people are more likely refering to the fact that the show "sold out" of tickets.

Guffaw.

But seriously, I have had several of my friends/family say they don't go any more. They say they hate standing in the lines, they hate the growing trend of "funny" suggestions (I don't really see this, if anyone does, please let me know), they hate how crowded it is.

I guess you can't please everyone.

Which awkwardly brings me to a point of sorts; "Following" onstage. Man, that's a tough one. Because sometimes "following" becomes a form of "aping". You know, where you match the other person's energy, emotions, speech patterns, and don't add anything to the scene. There's a way to "ape" and contribute... it's just that if I think any more today, my head will implode.

But there is certainly good following, like accepting the direction of the scene, "following" a leader on a journey, "following" the person of highest status so there is an actual point to your later status switch... the examples go on and on.

So following? It turns out, I'm cool with it.


Song of the Day: "Think Long" by The Mates Of State. It inspires me to have different opinions on a single subject. That is, if I think long enough, I see both sides. A blessing and a curse.

Me and Mrs. Jones, We Have a Thing Going On

So it comes to pass that I look like a follower again, not a leader.

But I swear to you, I watched the Oilers through it all. I remember watching Joe Murphy, Vinnie Damphousse and Shayne Corson lose lose lose night after night. I remember when watching Bill Ranford stand on his head wasn't fun any more. Hell, I remember when it seemed every single goal that was scored by the Oilers seemed to be either by or assisted from Wayyyyne Gretz-ky!

But now, if I get my Oiler window flags and run screaming up and down Whyte Avenue, I'm just like the rest.

That's what the guy at Blackbyrd Myoozik thought about me when I bought the latest Sharon Jones (and the Dap-Kings) album. That I was just like the rest. A follower. But man, I've loved everything, everything Sharon Jones touches.

Now, I hear about her in See, Vue, Rolling Stone, CMJ, everywhere. I hear her on CKUA. Her music is used for a variety of products. That pure, 60's funk recorded now instead of then. My ears even picked her song out of the car ride in "Free Ride". They were playing her cover of "What Have You Done for Me Lately" when Dove and Nate's Aunt were going on a date.

The very same song I put on the "Improvaganza 2005" mix.

I'm happy for her success. But I didn't jump on a bandwagon.

That's not the way I roll.

Song of the Day: "As Ugly As I Seem" by the White Stripes. Plug this song in, amp it up, and picture it beeing covered by The Suicide Machines. Brilliant.

Monkey Business

Someone recently said;

"Nowhere does it say on our posters Rapid Fire Theatre/Theatresports is necessarily a comedy show."

It was supposed to inspire us to do more than just worry about being funny and such. So I understand why it was said. Yet, our posters do feature (rather prominently) these two things;

-A pair of Groucho Marx glasses

-A chimp

But a chimp in Groucho Marx glasses? Now that's just silly.

Song of the day: "Too Much Monkey Business" by Chuck Berry. Yeah, yeah, the Beatles covered it. Chuck lives!

Hocus Pocus, Focus?

These are the magical words I wish worked.

I've battled the Focus Famine for years. As a teacher, director, leader, cast member, all-round acty guy. So guess what? That's right. It's time for another story with Crazy Unkie Shawn.

Now where did I put my spectacles? Ah! Yes, right on top of my head. Oh, the times that's happened. Now, which story to read today... Yes, yes, the story I like to call, "Shawn the Clown".

Once upon a time, Crazy Unkie Shawn was sitting on his balcony, poking a pigeon chick with a broomstick handle, wondering why the pigeon was taking this abuse. Suddenly, the phone rang. It was Guru Jan, the wise clown from the mountain. She had a task for Unkie Shawn. She wanted Unkie Shawn to spread the word of Clown to the people who lived in the Grove of Spruces, at a place where many children gathered to learn many mystical and pointless (yet largely entertaining and fun) arts.

Crazy Unkie Shawn enthusiastically agreed, because, well, he's crazy.

When C.U.S. arrived at the Grove, there were many children scampering about, here and there, near and far. He gathered several under his wing, and began to preach the word of Clown. But a terrible thing happened. The children, they were more interested in scampering about, here and there, near and far. try as he might, Unkie Shawn could not keep the children under his wing.They wanted to learn to "fly" on their own. Without anyone to help or offer a guiding hand.

Crazy Unkie Shawn left the Grove that day, feeling a little lost. He wanted them to listen, but didn't know how. He thought and he thought, and wished and hoped, but soon realized this: Those who want to get better at their art will do it on their own. No amount of "preaching" and placing hands in a "T" formation to signify "time out" will make people listen. Those who listen, listen. Those who don't, don't. Control is not something that necessarily can be gained; that's why some Mommies and Daddies always say "Control Yourself!" instead of "Me Want Control!"

Crazy Unkie Shawn found what made him happy that day; Poking a pigeon chick with a broomstick handle. Poke, Poke! C'mon you little skyrat! Fight back!

Today's Song Tandem(?): "Hocus Pocus" by Focus and "Living in the Past" By Jethro Tull. Get your 70's art rock on, y'all.

Clipping the Red Wings

There are 10 bottles of Brahma, 10 bottles of Traditional Ale, and 3 bottles of Kokanee in my fridge.

Why?

Because it's playoff time. That supply will last 8 games.

Look for me in the Oiler flag and vintage jersey. It'll say "PALLIER" across the top and the number is 50. Why 50? Because I stole the jersey that I gave to my dad on his 50th birthday.

Ah, the circle of life.

Song of the Day: "Kernkraft 400" by Zombie Nation. Hockey fans will understand.

PS-- Improv is great. See the show (methinks there's an 8 pm show tonight as well as 11 pm, hockey fans can still go and have a rip-roarin' shouty time).

Fabric Swatches Won't Make a Tux

Every single time I hear a song, I think it's perfect for either:

a) The Start of a Movie

or

b) The Start of a Play

But then I remember, you need a film or a play to put music at the start of it.

On at least two occasions I've been a part of a series of short stories onstage presented as a play; a "Story Collage" if you will; I had many dedicated co-collaborators on said projects.

Now, I've been thinking about the one I want to work on, and started to realize it's nothing but a series of short stories strung together again. Nope, not a central story changing locations, but a series of stories focusing on the same character. It's disheartening.

I just want to tell a complete story that's longer than 15-20 minutes. I want inspiration.

So, as anyone in my position would want to do, I'm going to try and force a dream tonight of Saraswati, the Hindu Goddess of knowledge and the arts. She'll ride down towards me on her swan (or goose, if the mood catches her), and she's going to straighten my story out and make everything clear to me.

God might be pissed that I'm trying out another religion, but he's known for forgiveness. I hope he understands. If he doesn't forgive me, as Rev. Lovejoy once said about religion, "They're really all the same."

But then God destroyed his train.

Song of the Day: "Different Names for the Same Thing" by Death Cab for Cutie. In a way, this song is treated a lot like I'm treating my current project. It starts with a wistful piano/needle skips and pops/dreamlike vocals of Benjamin Gibbard thing, and then, that idea is either thrown away or expanded into a grandiose pop overdose. It could have ended shortly after the 2 minute mark, but it's a shoegazing band! 5 minute minimum!

PS-- The Maple Leafs fired Pat Quinn. Must be the gum.

The Balancing Act: Improv and Oilers

There are two things I use the internet for:

This and the Edmonton Oilers.

I've been a fan for over 20 years... And I remember jumping up and down on the couch when we won our first Stanley Cup. I knew the Edmonton Oilers before I knew the stage.

It sounds like a petty thing, and unusual; us theatre-types aren't supposed to like sports. We're supposed to like literature and Greenpeace. But hey, I can't help the fact that I like cliched boy things like hockey, video games, and dressing in drag... wait, that last one might be just me.

But this is actually going to be a test of my loyalty.

Go Oilers Go. Oilers in 7.

Song of the Day: "Robot Rock" by Daft Punk. I want to start lobbying to make this our opening song for Theatresports '06-07. It would be wicked.

Pride and Privilege

If it were up to me, I'd wear a Rapid Fire Theatre Hat, Shirt, Hoodie, and the yet-to-be-released track pants (with "RFT" across the ass) every day.

But work does not permit. And it might seem a little braggy. And sadly, I'd look like a wanna-be Gangsta... no wait, for that, I'd have to wear the Rapid Fire Theatre Toque.

But my point is, I'm damn proud to be associated with this theatre company. It makes me walk a little taller, and it makes me a better person. It gives my life focus, direction and desire. It gives me something to work towards, and has allowed me to personally get to know some amazing theatre folk.

As I posted over at the Kory Story, Keith Johnstone once described improvisational theatre as "a privilege, not a right". I feel very privileged.

Sometimes, I need a pick-me-up. This is myself cheering myself up in front of everyone. It's better than my (maybe a little too often) shedding of clothes onstage. But you got to admit, I'm usually pimped into doing it.

That cheers me up too. Hooray for my pasty skinny body. I wouldn't trade it for, uh, a nice Mazda.

Zoom zoom.

Don't Worry, Be Crappy?

It's hard not to think hard.

Let me explain.

I was thinking very hard about improv. Too hard. So, I started to think less and less, so that seemingly improved my performance/creations. And, just like perscription drugs, it seems that the "no thinky" drug cocktail is not working as well as it used to, so I'm going to have to switch medication.

I'm a bit of a black-and-white chap, so it's now time to find something in between. I'm wearing grey pants today, so that's a start.

I had some troubles with word selection a few days ago at the show (that is, I said some words I shouldn't have said) and then was later told not to worry so much about it, which softened the blow. But it's hard for me to not punish myself for misbehaving. That's why I think I need a new formula. One that can put some sort of "Thought Filter" on things before they exit my body and mouth; Yeah, a thought filter for my body. You have to think before you move, don't you? Unless someone hits you with a reflex hammer, but reflexes aren't the subject here... are they?

The petrifying thing about improv: I don't know what I'm going to say or do next.
The great thing about improv: I don't know what I'm going to say or do next.

There's got to be a way to be in AND out of control. A controlled chaos, if you will. I'll go to the Lab in my lair, and I'll tell you in a couple of days what I came up with.

Now where's my coat and goggles, and hair gel, so I can get the perfect "Doc Brown" look going?

Today's Song: "A.M. Slow Golden Hit" by Hotel Lights. The band is lead by Darren Jessee, formerly of the Ben Folds Five. It's an interesting statement on music. Listen and enjoy, unless you don't like the soft stuff.

Life begins at 50

This is my 50th post... if you include pictures.

And I have lots to say, but nothing I should share. Just wait until I'm drunk.

Today's Song: "Gates of Steel" by Devo. Released in 1978, these ragamuffins lead by Mark Mothersbaugh confused and confounded critics and music fans alike. Novelty act? Serious New Wave band? One-Hit Wonders? Rock Band? I like them anyway.

L'eggo my Ego: Are we at RFT Celebrities?

Erik, you got the modified Model T engine that is my brain running...

I made a comment on Erik's blog the other day when he referred to me as one of the gurus that runs the prospect jam. I had a little giggle, because when I first came to the workshops RFT offers, I referred to myself as a "wandering improv guru" to several of my instructors: Kevvy and Bill, mostly.

Yes, and how I wandered. From Edmonton, to Fort McMurray, to...uh... Edmonton again. There's a voice that keeps on calling me...

But seriously, I've been on a lot of Improv teams... (flex, flex) "The Slurpees" (1993), "The Young and the Useless" (1994), "Three Men and a Mountain (1995), "Bite the Wax Tadpole" (1999-00) "Blind Man Funprov" (2001-02), and finally, RFT.

And hells yeah, it's awesome. I've had a few people walk up to me and ask me about the show, and say I'm wicked, one that said I "wasn't bad", one that said I'm "not the worst" or whatevs. And I've said to a few friends that it blows my mind when somebody thinks I'm a demicelebrity.
Now here's the question: are we all at RFT demi to full-blown celebrities?

Is that simply because we get up on stage in front of a dedicated audience?

If the answer is yes, wow. Line 'em up, I'm gonna sign some boobies.

But somehow, I don't want to label us as such. I would never want that to get in the way of what we're trying to do; Constantly improve in quality.

Tell the wrong person they're a celebrity, and there out there signing boobies instead of learning their craft. But then again, it might keep some people moving. It might be nice to hear it, and it might seem to be a measure of success.

If all of this is so, do we have certain responsiblilities due to our, uh, patency? Obviously, be good ambassadors for RFT, but is there more?

I guess if one person thinks "Celebrity", others must be. So it really becomes a question "do we think of ourselves as", not "are we".

My motor's out of gas.

Song of the day: "Honey Bucket" by The Melvins. Yeah, you heard me. The Melvins.

Plant the Seed, Turn the Page

So, this morning (see Mike? I live in the present, if only for a moment) a man comes up to me while I'm trying to open the store. He's on a bike, carrying a bucket that reads "The Best Mud in the Joint", holding a mop, and he's just finished banging on the window for "Wooly Bully's".

Welcome to Whyte Avenue on a Wednesday Morning.

He walks his bike up next to me and says: "You know who Robert Plant is?"

I say: "Of course".

He points to the doors of my store and says "I met him in there."

I want to stop for a moment, and I'd love for you to honestly answer in the comments: Is this man hepped up on goofballs? An escapee from the Bonko Barn?... To put it simple: Is this man crazy?

Actually, he's not. On one of my days off a few months ago, Robert Plant was briefly in my store. My co-worker Rachel was there, and she didn't know it was him, what with the leathery finish now and such. He's getting on a little. He was in Edmonton for a concert.

But my point is, next time a crazy man comes up to you and tells you he's Jesus, maybe that man isn't crazy. You can't judge people by what they look like or how they behave.

You might have just missed your opportunity to frolic with the Messiah.

Or you may get yourself into serious trouble when that man wraps your head in tin foil and turns you into a god satellite, thus suffocating you by not punching any holes in the wrap.

But when you're leaving your body, at least you can say, I didn't judge that man. I chose to believe him first...

Man, this lesson is double-edged.

PS-- Life is an Adventure. The Flaming Lips just released a new CD!!

Putting a Soap-Covered Finger in a Glass of Water with Pepper Dashed on top

When I did that once, the pepper rushed to the sides of the glass, making the water perfectly clear. I wish I could do that with my words... That is, make them perfectly clear...

I remember when I first joined RFT, the whole experience was a big (mostly self-imposed) load of intimidation; I was scared about what I would say, how people would take it, and if I would start embellishing truths to sound more interesting. Would I? Indeed I would.

But the odd thing is, the exaggerations are often unintentional...

Take a conversation I had with Jacob in my first couple of months on board. I don't know how this came about, but I ended up telling him I shave my face twice a day. What the eff?... No, no, what I meant was, I have once or twice shaved my face more than once a day, but the social nervousness lead me to stick by my unintentional lie. Now, did Jacob lead me to make that shit up? No, that was 100% pure Shawn. But since I was feeling awkward, I just went with it...

More recently, I was (surprise!) having a conversation about music with some folks. Now, for whatever reason, I still get quasi-nervous around some of the higher-ups in the company to what I hope is a much lesser degree, but I know it's still there. Point being, I was trying to explain that, for fun, I like to make up "beats" and "drum loops" on my computer to be used in future songs of my own composition.

That's the truth.

I was trying to express my frustration with the fact that I make up some pretty shitty beats that I hate, but save on my computer nonetheless (my dinosaur-like computer... let's just say, it ain't even a pentium).

That's the truth.

Here's where I start to get verbal mini-throwup. Now, what I mean to say is, I notice similar music on the radio with similar beats to the ones that I thought were uninspired. I meant to express my frustration with the lack of creative Hip Hip/Rap/Yadayada-that-kinda-genre music that is mass consumed via the radio.

Pretentious, elitist, and all around snobby, but certainly what I was trying to express.

Instead, I come out with something like this:

"So, I'm like, listening to the radio and stuff, and like, there's my beat! They totally stole my beat, and I'm all like, I should be making millions!"

Whoa.

Which must sound a little something like this to the people who I'm talking to:

"I'm bat shit insane! I like to talk to the beatmasters in my stomach! Get out of my skin, you little DJs! And now, to go on stage with alleeall of you, and watch out, I'm friends with Shifty of Crazy Town... COME MY LADY, COME COME MY LADY!!! He'll cut you up... did I tell you I wrote that song?"

Well, okay maybe not exactly like that, but something similar.

My advice to all you new RFT Improvisers, don't get nervous around the veterans of the company. Staying cool and loose, especially before shows, is what makes us one step above the rest.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to put my straitjacket back on.

My 3 Grandmas.

I'm going to avoid an obvious and timely topic today for something completely different; A trip to Grandma's house.

If there's anything I've learned recently, life is fragile and precious. It can only last for so long, and cherishing every moment is huge. Important beyond belief.

I remember, when my Grandma died many years ago, a woman stepped in to take her place. Her name was Elizabeth Patton, and she was my Grandma's Cousin. I was very young at the time.

I remember going over to her house quite a few times, and she had a dog. The dog loved playing with me, and we would chase each other around the house for what was probably hours. Elizabeth would say that it was good excersise for her dog, so she didn't mind.

I remember a time when she took care of me for a few days when my parents were away. We went shopping one day, and she noticed I was looking at a mat that you could roll out on the floor that was actually like a mini-town map made for cars (some of you would remember the exact mat; the street plan was basically an oval-track, with railroad tracks on one side, and a kind-of rural scene on the other, with extremely out of scale buildings and houses scattered about, everything 2D). Without a word, she bought it for me.

I saw her maybe twice after I passed the age of 11. Possibly at a wedding, and I vaguely remember another time, but that was it. I still loved her, and still felt she was in my life. This last December, I made a plan to visit her for the first time as an adult.

I called my Dad to get her phone number. I knew she would probably be in a nursing home by now, or something along those lines. I'd been neglecting the visit for so long, I really didn't know where I was going to find her.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" was my father's response. "She died a few months ago."

I thought for a moment about crying. But all I felt was bad. I can't describe the emotion, I just felt bad. Not bad as in "I'm a bad person", bad as in, not happy.

But I needed that. It let me realize that some situations are not possible to control, that I can't always have a storybook ending with everyone in my life, and that I can't always get what I want.

I'm going to visit a woman in Blind Bay, British Columbia that did a very similar thing for me. When my Grandma passed away, she also said she would like to be my new Grandma. She is her sister. She's passed 80, and she still does landscaping/lawncare for her neighbours. I have been visiting her every year for about 5 years.

She has a graveyard at the bottom of her yard. Really, she does. She joked one time that when she dies, she'll just roll down the hill to her grave.

I don't know why, but I like that one.

The Generalizer Sampler

And now, for the 7 of you that voted, and the 2 that voted sarcastically, here is THE GENERALIZER SAMPLER!! (Kay, for her loyalty, gets a copy containing only the songs she voted for... that's what being my true blend gets you: copywritten material that I have no right distributing):

1. CAKE- Wheels
2. HOT HOT HEAT- Middle of Nowhere
3. 311- Frolic Room
4. THE BRAVERY- Swollen Summer
5. THE NEW PORNOGRAPHERS- Jackie, Dressed in Cobras
6. OASIS- Lyla
7. SPOON- Jackie, Dressed in Cobras
8. SHARON JONES & the Dap-Kings- This Land is Your Land
9. VOLCANO, I'M STILL EXCITED!!- Trunk of My Car
10. FLAMING LIPS- Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, pt 1
11. BECK- Hell Yes (Ghettochip Malfunction Remix)
12. GORILLAZ- Kids With Guns
13. FRENCH KICKS- Yes, I Guess
14. LONGVIEW- When You Sleep
15. KEANE- This is the Last Time
16. BEN FOLDS- Prison Food

Now, guys and gals, if this sounds like something that makes your nipples perky, just let me know in the comments if you want a copy.

As for tonight's show at Theatresports, I think we've got TEN, count 'em TEN NEW rookies... And I think 8 of them have links to the P-Jam.

Not that I need to feel validated, but that's a good feeling. It's a bad feeling, also, to know that an almost equal number of P-Jammers are not "rookie-ing it up" this week. In a perfect communist society, all who want to would do RFT Theatresports. We'd jam the stage like sardines, barely able to breathe, but we'd all be smiling.

Or suffocating. Or scared out of our minds. Or feeling a little out of place...

It has come to my attention that feedback is extremely necessary. I need to make some real paper reports for some of you, just like RFT does for the players occasionally. It's not fair that I expect people to come leaps and bounds in only a few weeks when some people don't even know what to work on.

I think we can treat the next few months like Summer Band Camp. No, not that Summer Band Camp, the type where we really focus in on what it's all about, and helping each other.

Like making each other look good. I'll explain at band camp.

Whose Leg do I Have to Hump to get some service?

All I wanted was the new Mates of State CD.

I asked the girl at Megatunes if they had it. Without looking, she said no. I said "Could you help me look for it? Maybe it's in the new release section, or along this wall..."

She said it nope.

Now, I know she's a smart girl. And she probably knows that they don't have it. But for the love of God, humor me...

I did finally get the CD, but I had to find it my own damn self a week later. And it's good. It's real good. A keyboard-heavy, male-female shouty, kinda antidepressant-induced good time.

Speaking of antidepressant, is it true alcohol is a depressant? I really want to know. I mean, yes, I know everyone always says alcohol is a depressant, but is that really the case?

I ask because I have a tradition during Oilers games. Instead of 3 periods of hockey, I have 3 "beer-iods" of hockey. That's right, 3 Brahmas/Trads a game. And I never get really depressed. If I do, it's because the Oilers lost, and that's depressing anyway.

I know there's an awful lot of "clean" living Improvisers in Edmonton, and I respect them for it. They're more likely to partake in extreme walking than drink a beer, and hey, I think they provide equal rushes. But please, for those who drink, let me know, it there scientific proof of this depressant thing? Really really?

Because I've heard a couple other things about other activities, and my hands are not hairy nor am I blind.

Nazi Gum?-- The Story Behind Trident Splash

I know the commercial is a wee bit old, but they still run it, and it still pisses me off. Here's a little scenario:

Monday morning. Cadbury Corporation in the board room.

BOSS: Good morning gentlemen.

Enter INTERN. He is carrying tray of piping hot coffee.

BOSS: We have a product that we've been developing for a while, it's called Trident Splash. We need a catchy commercial that is "hip" and "now". Johnson, what's hip and now?

JOHNSON: Quentin Tarantino!

BOSS: Excellent Johnson! But we can't afford him. Let's make sure we use a song he's used in one of his movies for the commercial. Now... I know we have to make sure everyone knows the fellow who's chewing the gum is confident and in the know. What's something confident people do?

SPERBER: They wear speedos!

JOHNSON: They swagger!

BOSS: Excellent. This fellow is wearing a speedo and swaggering down the street. Now, where is somewhere where people meet?

PALLIER: A Bus stop!

BOSS: Perfect. But how did you get in here?! (PALLIER is thrown out by JOHNSON by the back belt loop) And now, I need some quintessential losers. What kind of people are an easy target?

SPERBER: Fags!

JOHNSON: Black people!

MCGILLICUTTY: Slackers!... Uh, the un-shaven, dirty, poor, punk-rock loving bohemian!

BOSS: Don't overthink, McGillicutty. But I like it. A dirty Punk-rocker. Maybe someone in a Green Day T-shirt.

INTERN: Uh, Green Day is barely punk anymore.

BOSS: SILENCE! (BOSS throws hot coffee on INTERN. SPERBER and JOHNSON beat him with his own arms. MCGILLICUTTY puts out his cigar on INTERN's bruises.) I wanted an intern that was "hip" and "now", not "Wannabe-hipster" and "Dao....... ist". Now where were we... Right! Confident middle-class pasty white man swaggers down the street in speedos. He meets 3 easy targets: A black woman on a computer.... haahaa... hoo. A black woman on a computer?! I crack me up...ahaha. A fag with a poofy dog, because we all know they love their pussy-ass poodles, and a dirty punk trying to hit on an innocent Aryan girl. Okay, okay, that's 4, but we won't victimize that blonde beauty. Regardless. When our hero chews the gum, he'll reveal the others for who they are: They'll be hit by a "wave"... Get it? Trident Splash? Wave? So all the targets are hit: The black woman's computer is destroyed, because, what was she using that for anyway... the Homo's faggity poodle will have his hairdo destroyed, and the punk will actually turn out to be an old has-been, hiding a comb-over! In fact, he's a pervert for even trying to get with that girl, and she'll scream mockingly at his stupid bald head! And, what the hell, let's throw in a goth chick. They're funny looking. Especially wet... Besides, she's anti-conformist! And gentlemen, we have a commercial.

JOHNSON: Here here!

SPERBER: Hooray!

MCGILLICUTTY: Superb!

They exit, each kicking the INTERN in the ribs on the way to a "power-lunch".

Now, is that really the message Trident Splash wanted me to get? I hope not, and I hope nobody was actually thinking this way when the commercial was developed. I know I couldn't be the first person to think this way about this commercial. And I know I'm just as bad in a way for recognizing the targets, but hey, I was raised in Capatalist North America: I think they subliminaly wanted me to notice, and never reveal their Anti-gay, Racist, Anti-unique individualness (notice the "anarchist" was also victimized) message. No, no. They wouldn't want me to notice that message upfront. They never wanted it to bubble to the surface....

Or maybe the commercial meant none of it at all. But that leads me to my point: Be careful, when you're improvising, what message you may accidentally be portraying. Stereotypes are occasionally funny, but do you really need to beat down another intern?

Wait, I stereotyped Corporate America! I made those office jerks into caricatures! I DON'T EVEN HEED MY OWN MESSAGE!! I'M JUST LIKE THEM!

NOOOOO.....!

Oh well, screw it.

PS-- for those wondering what the song is, it's supposed to be the George Baker Selection playing "Little Green Bag". It's not, but it's supposed to be... In fact, the original commercial had a sound-alike, and then, likely after legal action and some suing, it became the "real" song, redone by some studio musicians.

Give me an Earful

Before any P'Jammers (Sunday Jam folks) continue on to my post, I'd like to say, this is your chance to talk to me about how auditions went. I'd love to know. If you don't want everyone else to see, feel free to e-mail me at spallier@hotmail.com. Please... read on to my other post(s).

The Art of Shutting Up

I'm going to have to be careful while making this post, seeing that I've already given away what the subject is...

Let's just say, a few days have passed, and I'm starting to realize the best way to get what I want is to stop yammering on about it. It was friday night, and I had one of my better shows in recent memory. And I got a bunch of things that night that I wanted.

I won't say what they were, but avid readers of my blog know what they are (*cough*...ahhosting. bless me).

I don't think this technique works for everything. I want a recording contract, but I'm pretty sure that takes careful orchestrating. Heh, hee. I made a music funny.

I want a legion of minions to carry out menial tasks, but I'm pretty sure that takes hypnosis and persuasive speaking classes.

I want a cup of coffee, but I'm pretty sure I'll have to get off my ass and make it myself.

By the way, today I was listening to Serart. The not-so creative blending of the names Serj Tankian ( of System of a Down) and Arto Tuncboyaciyan (the Armenian Percussionist). It's artsy, and moody and such, so fans of the downers will not be pleased. Unless you like variety. Which is a spice in my cupboard.

aah...ahhhh..aaaah... agoodscene!! Oh, mercy. Bless me.

Audition Perdition

It's a shame.

After the auditions for RFT conclude this evening at the space above the Red Bike (for those who are unclear, there is no Prospect Jam on April 2), there might be a few people we will never see again.

Some people probably think I mean those who audition and don't get in the show, but I mean those who audition and do get in the show. I feel like Yoda, yelling at you "Much you have learned, but your training is not complete!".

It's a really good idea for those who want to keep their improv muscle in shape to continue to come. I don't want the double-perdition of "I'm too discouraged to go back to P'Jam, I didn't make it in." as well as "I'm too awesome to go to P'Jam any more." I understand too busy, but not too awesome.

Too discouraged? I totally understand that.

But I don't often accept it.

Oh yeah, and even though the voting for music is over, I'll still try and mention what the CD of the day is... Today, It was Matthew Sweet's 1993 release, Altered Beast. I love that hulking Ming Tea member. He's sometimes melodic, mostly passionate, and occasionally discordant to riveting dramatic effect.

Not to be confused with Michael Sweet of Stryper fame. Stryper was not so good. In any way.

Slip Sliding Away, and Burn, Baby, Burn.

It's storytime with crazy Unkie Shawn.

Let's see, which book? Which book... ahh, here it is. I'm going to tell you all the story about Unkie Shawn and the Slides.

Once upon a time, Unkie Shawn went to a Physical Theatre Academy. He was 22 then, and his Mother had sadly passed away only a year before. Now, Unkie Shawn wanted to do something real special, so he put together a short play for his family and his mom's friends to see him perform at the Physical Theatre Academy.

He wanted to make it something everyone would remember, so he included everything: Special lights, special sound, and even special slides projected at special moments. He also played every character in the little play; Even Rod Phillips, voice of the Edmonton Oilers!

His play was enjoyed, and the audience clapped and cheered. Unkie Shawn was soooo excited, he forgot all about his slides! The irreplaceable pictures of his Mother!

Well, a lot of time had passed before he thought about them again... Silly Unkie Shawn has a widdle biddy brain that is not known for it's memory capacity. In fact, if he had a memory card slot, it might be an awfully good idea to slide in an upgrade once and a while. Regardless, he tried and he tried and he tried to figure out where those slides went... and all of a sudden, one day, when Unkie Shawn was drinking his "Special Juice" at O'Connor's Irish Pub, along came an old friend of his, saying he had found the slides!

Well, on Sunday, Unkie Shawn got his slides back, but they were all askew and scattered, mixed and mismatched in an old box. He tried and he tried and he tried to organize them, but he's still not sure if they're all there. But the important thing is:

He got most of his memories back.

This is the last CD that I want people to pick a track from. The compilation Version 1.0 & 1.1 (Special Kay Edition) will be available April 14! So it's your last chance. Pick some tunes.

Today's CD: "Festival" CD 2
1. U2:Vertigo 2. THE KILLERS: Somebody Told Me 3. RAZORLIGHT: Golden Touch 4. BABYSHAMBLES: Killamangiro 5. KAISER CHIEFS: Oh My God 6. THE BRAVERY: An Honest Mistake 7. MYLO: Drop The Pressure 8. ROYKSOPP: Only This Moment 9. THE ZUTONS: Confusion 10. HOOBASTANK: The Reason 11. IAN BROWN: Keep What Ya Got 12. HAPPY MONDAYS: Loose Fit 13. STEREOPHONICS: Superman 14. LONGVIEW: When You Sleep 15. HOT HOT HEAT: Elevator 16. MUSE: Sing For Absolution 17. KINGS OF LEON: Red Morning Light 18. ROOSTER: You're So Right For Me 19. P.O.D.: Youth of the Nation 20. THE DARKNESS: Love is Only a Feeling

ATTENTION ALL PROSPECT JAMMERS!

I'd like to know the e-mail addresses of the following people (sorry if you gave them to me already, I lost some of them):

Jon K.
Craig R.
Jessie M.
Don B.
Jeremy R.

Using initials in case you're not huge fans of having your names in full on the web. Just e-mail me at spallier@hotmail.com. Don't post them in the comments, because I, like oh so many other axe murderers, value privacy.

Still Putting things off..And Not Putting it on.

Those who read regularily know I have two personal projects this month:

1. Start work on my One-Act about my Mother
2. Get an Agent

Progress on the two: Zero.

I just don't know how to start things any more. It certainly makes me ask myself some questions;
Am I afraid?
Am I the most lazy lump of organs and blood this side of the galaxy?
Am I addicted to the status quo?
Was Status Quo the worst rock band of all time?... Oh yeah, am I easily distracted?

And the biggest question of all: What the hell am I waiting for?

Oh yeah, let me know in the comments what's your favorite track from:
Today's CD: "Festival" CD 1
Tracks: 1. GREEN DAY: Boulevard of Broken Dreams 2. SNOW PATROL: Run 3. KEANE: This is The Last Time 4. COLDPLAY: Clocks 5. KASABIAN: Cutt Off 6. OASIS: Lyla 7. FEEDER: Feeling the Moment 8. THE LIBERTINES: Can't Stand Me Now 9. THE SUBWAYS: Oh Yeah 10. BLOC PARTY: Banquet 11. THE FUTUREHEADS: Hounds of Love 12. THE ORDINARY BOYS: Boys will Be Boys 13. HARD-FI: Tied Up Too Tight 14. LINKIN PARK: Breaking the Habit 15. JET: Are You Gonna Be My Girl 16. SIMPLE PLAN: Shut Up! 17. ASH: Starcrossed 18. NEW ORDER: Jetstream 19. R.E.M.: All the Way to Reno 20. JAMES BLUNT: Wisemen

Like a tube of some sort of cream...

...it's time to clear things up.

I don't like dick and fart improv.

I don't like gags.

However, I don't want people to punish themselves for doing it.

I know, I really really know, that this company, Rapid Fire Theatre, strives constantly to be the best. I constantly strive to be the best. But I used to beat up myself onstage. With everybody watching. No, not in that Lee Evans comedy way I sometimes do. I mean in the way I would behave, and the improv that I presented.

I would get mad at myself, and I know my peers noticed. I would try to put on the mask that I was confident, but I started to get notes about being too cocky.

Man, this world is a delicate balance.

My point over the last few days has been this: Don't punish yourself. It doesn't make your improv better. I'm not saying "Don't learn from your mistakes", or, "I think everything's fine, as long as the audience laughs". But I understand how some might have misinterpreted some of my recent postings.

Which brings me to the new point I want to harp on: Be Clear. Clarity is very important.

I was getting frustrated with the fact that other improvisers were always naming what I was or what I was doing. But guess what? It's my fault. If I'm not clear about what I'm doing and what I am, then they're forced to name me.

I'm not saying this is easy, but I don't think anyone said it would be.

Today's CD: The French Kicks "Trial of the Century"
Tracks: "One More Time", "Don't Thank Me", "The Trial of the Century", "Oh Fine", "The Falls", "Was It A Crime", "Following Waves", "You Could Not Decide", "Yes, I Guess", "Only So Long", "Better Time".

I've Got to, Got to, Got to Have Faith

So everybody's got an opinion.

It's not easy being onstage representing Rapid Fire Theatre. The last thing we want to do is make an audience member say:

"Come on, if he/she can do it, I can. That totally sucked. I can do better."

But here's the mountain of a problem that lies directly on the surface of our training: Embrace failure.

We are constantly working towards making ourselves better improvisers, each and every one of us. A good improviser is always learning.

We are entitled to complain about a show that didn't go wonderfully, and so is our audience. Keep in mind, we don't know what's going to come out of our mouths next. That's the beauty.

Sometimes, we perform something that could actually develop into a play, a full-on theatre production. Whoo.

Sometimes, we perform something that wouldn't seem out of place on "Kids in the Hall". Whoo.

Sometimes, things fall apart. Whoo.

I remember a time I was in grade 4, I wanted to do a really shocking, super-fly dance to George Michael's "Faith". It was for a talent show.
I picked a spot, right dead centre of the stage, where I spread out in a death pose in a brown robe wearing a freaky old man mask. The music started.
"Faith" begins with a church organ solo. I was laying there, perfectly still, ready to "surprise" and shock my audience. Right from the first strum of the accoustic guitar, I popped my head up. And you know what I got?

Unbridled laughter.

That mask saved my life that day. My first response was; "Oh god! I've failed! They're laughing at me! They're laughing at me!..." But I learned my first improv lesson that day: Embrace failure.

I forgot all about my planned dance. I launched into flailing my limbs and wiggling my hips, all 4-foot nothing of me, and I goofed around at a piano that was on stage. Thrusting my pelvis, I did my best "Jerry Lewis and Jerry Lee Lewis' Love Child" impersonation. I loosened my art for the sake of my audience.

And was that really so bad?

My audience loved it. They ruptured my damn eardrums, and I'm just some total loser from 4th grade. But instinctively, I knew what they wanted.

So, if my audience looks at me and sees an idiot, I'll recognize that. I do art with the best of them. I love an awesome story, dramatic tension, and moody lights and bold sound.

I am your Chameleon. Make of me what you wish.

Today's CD: Cake "Pressure Chief".
Tracks: "Wheels", "No Phone", "Take It All Away", "Dime", "Carbon Monoxide", "The Guitar Man", "Waiting", "She'll Hang the Baskets", "End of the Movie", "Palm of your Hand", "Tougher Than It Is".

Doubling the Dose of Shawn

An announcement: I am now no longer working on Saturdays.

After 6 years with ARTIFACTS Trading Company, I officially earned my Saturdays. This means no more:
"Sorry dudes, I've got to go. Gotta work tomorrow morning."
"I really should go at the intermission. I need some sleep."
"I'm a big lame."

So, lovers of improv, audience and performers alike, let's party. I'll wear a hawaiian shirt and heart-covered boxers every friday, and those sunglasses with the fluorescent handles--neon pink, green, blue and such. That'll prove what a party animal I am.

I look forward to being the social butterfly that I once was. I am saddened by my recent "social moth" status.

I would like to welcome Chad"wicky" Cuthbertson-- Chad the Rad, my Hardy brother, to the world of blogging. I think he'll prove entertaining. I put a link in my section over there. See?

This is one of the last CDs I will be doing on my blog. It turns out, generally, a limited people want to help me make this thing. It's cool, life is an experiment. I need only 3 more tracks after this one to complete the disc.

Today's CD: Hot Hot Heat "Elevator"
Tracks: "Running out of Time", "Goodnight Goodnight", "Ladies and Gentleman", "You Owe me An IOU", "No Jokes-Fact", "Jingle Jangle", Pickin' it Up", "Island Of the Honest Man", "Middle of Nowhere", "Dirty Mouth", "Soldier In a Box", "Shame on You", "Elevator".

Foote in the Door?

I missed an opportunity yesterday, or maybe I didn't.

The Citadel was posting a position as "Director of the Foote Theatre School". Everything in the job description, I had. I just simply didn't apply.

It's probably okay. They're probably looking for someone with much, much more experience. But it's better to try than to not try at all.

I need to take my own advice.

Secondly, I helped a Korean student read "Goodnight Desdemona, Good Morning Juliet". I think she gets it now. Moral quagmire though: Did I help her cheat? I mean, shouldn't she have figured it out on her own? Although trust me, she wouldn't have... I'd like to think I tutored her, but...

Fin.

Today's CD: 311 "Dont Tread On Me"
Tracks: "Don't Tread On Me", "Thank Your Lucky Stars", "Frolic Room", "Speak Easy", "Solar Flare", "Waiting", "Long For The Flowers", "Getting Through to Her", "Whiskey & Wine", "It's Getting OK Now", "There's Always an Excuse".

Pick a track, win a prize... My luv. Not my actual love, just my playful L-U-V kind of love. And not that love, you wicked wicked monkeys.

Were there Ever Any Rules?

Last night, we forgot the rules of improv.

We had fun, and perhaps kicked some ass. I played way way too much, but hey, there were no fuckin' rules. So I played just right... We came up with our own "Are You Still Mad At Me?" by having a roomful of gibberish people having a Grade 9 Grad Party. It's hard to explain fully, but in the end, I think we all had fun.

Some people need to get up more! Self Motivation. There is a lot of comraderie amongst those who know each other well, so those who are a wee bit alone need to find their place.

I can't find it for you... I, after all, had to find my place in RFT. If you really want it, you'll work for it, and maybe have to wait for it.

PS-- I Just found out Craddo is also a fan of Ben Folds... making us the only Canadian fans of Ben Folds. At least I'm no longer alone.

Today's CD: Volcano, I'm Still Excited!! (Yes, that is the name of the band. Think of the Strokes and Hot Hot Heat doing some drugs, getting depressed, switching bandmates, and making a record. That's not what happened, but I think it's a good explanation)
Tracks: "2nd Gun", "Trunk of My Car", "Joe Jaxon", "In Green", "Fisticuffs", "Echo Park", "New Brad", "Mostly on an Island", "Around the Dream", "Goodbye, Casio", "By No Means", "Firebombing London", "Shouting Across the Water" "Byron's 24th Christmas", "Two Exclamation Points".

I Broke the Internet... again.

Please, read on to my real post. This is just a test to see if I can fix the blog...

It's Hard to be Simple

And then it hit me.

Stop being so goddamned cerebral, you fool.

Keep some simple things in mind: All you need in an improv scene is already there.
We need not add elaborate scenarios.
Make the story about what has already been established...

I stood around in a scene again, friday night, saying nothing. I don't know why. But I think I'm cured. In the following scene, I said every single thought that came to my head and lived in the world we established. I didn't feel like I was waiting for lines to be done... I was a part of the scene. Maaan, that felt sweet. And entertaining without longing and pining for the audience to appreciate me. It's not about me.

But this blog sure is about me... so vote on a song in the comments from:
Todays CD: The Flaming Lips "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" (yeah, I mentioned it before, but I didn't show you the tracks... votey votey)
Tracks: "Fight Test", "One More Robot/Sympathy 3000-21", "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (Parts I & II)" "In The Morning of Magicians", "Ego Tripping At the Gates of Hell", "Are You a Hypnotist??", "It's Summertime", "Do You Realize??", "All We Have Is Now", "Approaching Pavonis Mans By Balloon (Utopia Planitia)"

Trivia: The last track won a Grammy for Best Instrumental Performance in 2003... cool.

The Spiffy Diffy, Yo

So, I received a comment from Scott, wondering just how different the Prospect Jam is from a workshop.

Here we go.

First off, the paid workshops are a 6 week course, the Prospect Jam is more like "Survival". That is, the longer you stay, the more you'll learn, and the more you'll realize self-motivation is the key. Paid workshop instructors have a semi-flexible curriculum. Myself and Chad have an uber-flexible "how-do-we-feel-today" sorta plan, which changes depending on which space the cow takes a dump on... no wait, that's hillbilly bingo... but I think you understand.

Second, you have to be INVITED to join the Prospect Jam... that's really how it should go, and what we set out to do in the first place. All current members were definitely told they could come here. You're all good. I just never want the floodgates to open. Anyone can take a paid workshop.

Third, we assume you are seriously interested in being in the show if you attend the Prospect Jam. That's what it's for. We at least assume you're very passionate about improv.

Or think someone in the cast is hot, and you want to meet them... It's happened.

Those are the key differences. Kevvy? Bill? Crad? Chad? Strong Bad? Any Current Cast Member? If any of you want to add anything about the diff, do it...

Just add your difference in the comments.

Oh yeah, and pick a track from this CD. Don't care if you don't know it, just pick.

Today's CD: Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings "Naturally"
Tracks: "How Do I Let A Good Man Down?", "Natural Born Lover", "Stranded In Your Love", "My Man Is A Mean Man", "You're Gonna Get It", "How Long Do I Have To Wait For You?", "This Land is Your Land", "Your Thing Is A Drag", "Fish In The Dish", "All Over Again".

I Broke the Internet

I'm sorry, my temporary blog problems suck.

Perchance this will fix them.

No Whining and Dining

So I jumped the gun.

Yesterday, I mentioned I was spoiled in recent times at RFT because I performed every week. Well, I still do.

Yeah, if I'm not in the first half, I'm hosting the Free Improv. Which is really awesome, considering my company (Kevvy, Joey, Jules, and Chad).

As you all know, I'm a little skittish and worrisome, and (only in the last 5 years) have become really socially awkward. This has lead to unwarranted whining and complaining, and drunken rambling... It's bizarre when your confidence runs low.

However, like a boxer with a coconut-sized welt on my head (and my stupid pride), I'm coming back, y'all. My Feng Shui Jade Cicada sez it's for recovery and resurgence, and I've got one, so it's go time. Why? Why is it go time? Because I'm broke... No meals out for me.

Yep, nothing like empty pockets for motivation. I made a DVD of my appearances on Help!TV, and I'm taking it to the lion's den... a talent agent. The last time we talked, she told me it was "virtually impossible" that she would take me on as a client. Well, I don't live in a virtual world, baby, I live in the real one. What what? Das right.

I forgot to put a CD in yesterday's post. Here it is-- Vote for a track in the comments:
Today's CD: Gorillaz "Demon Days"
Tracks: "Last Living Souls", "Kids With Guns", "O Green World", "Dirty Harry", "Feel Good Inc.", "El Manana", "Every Planet We Reach is Dead", "November Has Come", "All Alone", "White Light", "Dare", "Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head (spoken word by Dennis Hopper)" "Don't Get Lost in Heaven", "Demon Days".

In the Nick of Time.

I don't think anyone will read this unless I post it. It's a comment from the "Perspective from the Prospects" post. By Nick. I shall put it all in blue. And Italics.

To directly quote Shawn, "[The Prospect Jam is] like bran". There you have it, folks. That's all you need to know.

Is it success to have lots of folks at the jam? Maybesies. An important point to make is that it's an entirely different setting than a workshop or a performance. That's a good thing and an ungood thing, because while it lets one get some improv in after high school (it's not that far away, you know!), it can also lead to stagnation.

My challenge to all the new kids on the block who just discovered the PJ is to introduce something to improv that you want to see, and share it with your fellow 'provver. Invent!

One less positive note for those of you who wind up auditioning: space is limited on the schedule, and even moreso since dickheads like me and Busby squeezed into that overfull elevator, so don't be surprised if you don't get picked up right quick. Your best bet is to stick with the Prospect Jam through thick and thin (thin being 3 people or less), and while you're at it, IMPROVe! It's tough not making an ass of yourself on stage, and you need to develop a flexible attitude toward what improv is and can be in order to make a good show. Always IMPROVe.One more tip for auditioneers: Be polite and energetic and note that while a TS audience might like toilet humour, understand that the folks evaluating you (probably Chris Craddock, Condor/Bill, Kevin Gillese, Joey, or any combo thereof) have heard it all before. Try to focus on the things that only an improviser would notice and your chances will be better for it.

There you have it. Useful information from a useful guy.

As for me, I need to keep proper perspective of things as well. We received a schedule recently, and I perform for y'all once a month. It's gonna be tough. Why? Because I was once spoiled.

Some of you who watched the show not too long ago know I used to perform every week. I had some good moments. I like myself for the most part.

So I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and replace some no-shows. Expect to see me every week, watching from the sides, not drinking any more. It'll make me feel better.

Like Bran.

Sick of the Music? Let's talk "Free Ride"

Hey, so I'm getting a little carried away with the music thing; It's what I do best. So before you read the below postings, I invite you to carry on a little about "Free Ride". I've been keeping a very close eye on it, and would love to know if you all watch it too.

Rapid Fire Theatre seems to be getting it's tentacles more tangled in Hollywood every year...

I Summon You, Dark Gods and Goddesses, Answer me this question:

Is Music Bisexual?

The Hidden Cameras (and Erin) once said "Music is My Boyfriend" (or, they have said it multiple times if you own the track). Well I guess since Music is going steady with me, I need to throw it down with Erin or ask Music just where it stands.

So far, our compilation goes like this (warning: I went with the underdog, that is, the person who doesn't vote often if there was a dispute; sorry Kay, you'll need allies to make some of your choices go through):

New Pornographers- Jackie Dressed in Cobras
Beck- Hell Yes (Ghettochip Malfunction Remix)
The Bravery- Swollen Summer
Ben Folds- Prison Food

If you don't like it, and you haven't voted, start with the "Time for a Compilation" Post and work your way up. Rock the Vote, and this time, we actually are.

Stomp your British Knights down. Hats off to the pointy guitars.

I also summon you to vote on a track, and put it in the comments...Today's CD: Spoon "Gimme Fiction"
Tracks: "The Beast and Dragon, Adored", "Two Sides/Monsieur Valentine", "I Turn my Camera On", "My Mathematical Mind", "The Delicate Place", "Sister Jack", "I Summon You", "The Infinite Pet", "Was it You?", "They Never Got You", "Merchants of Soul".

Perspective on the Prospects

There were over 20 people at the prospect jam yesterday.

My question to you: Is this success?

A brief history: I came into RFT when the process of entry was hazy. You asked the right people the right questions, things might go your way. So, my brain started working. I knew people who I thought were good improvisers (mostly Nik, Stu, and the crew from the University Improv club) that I thought deserved a place where they could keep developing with RFT. I spread the idea of the Prospect Jam around, and Tad helped me realize I needed to write an official proposal.

Support was mixed. Some loved it, some hated it, some were in the middle. Crad made it happen, and added the idea of auditions. Problem solved.

Chad co-founded the prospect jam, now commonly referred to as the Sunday jam, and supports the idea every step of the way. But honestly, I don't think either of us expected this to be so well attended. Nosebowl certainly helped, but we still have the stalwarts from before on board.

So, is this success? Or is it overcrowding? Or is it just a sign of how loved the artform of Improv is? I guess we'll find out with the attendance after the auditions...

Don't forget to comment by voting for a song from Today's CD. And vote on the old ones from the past few entries (March 8, 9, 10)

Today's CD: The New Pornographers "Twin Cinema".
Tracks: "Twin Cinema", "The Bones Of An Idol", "Use It", "The Bleeding Heart Show", "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras", "The Jessica Numbers", "These are the Fables", "Sing Me Spanish Techno", "Falling Through Your Clothes", "Broken Breads", "Three Or Four", "Star Bodies", "Streets of Fire", "Stacked Crooked".

The Tale of the Lightweight

Harry Belafonte once said "Jackass, He Jump and Bray, Let Him Bray, Let Him Bray".

And boy, did I bray.

It all started when I decided to get drunk. Which I did. Making a long story short, I blabbered on to Craddo, and possibly insulted an entire table of improvisers, with no good reason. So Ritchie, I've decided I won't be gaining the pounds you decided to lose.

Let's start over again, shall we? Not to sound like an abusive hillbilly boyfriend, but I yells at you cause I loves you. Moderation is the key.

No CD today. Just vote for the ones on the March 8, 9, and 10 entries.

2 Shows for the price of, uh, 2.

Yes blends, there are two RFT Theatresports shows this evening.

One at 8, one at 11. And since I wasn't able to make the last one, I don't know how they pick who's in the 8 pm show. I hope they pick me. Why should they? Here goes:

I want to enjoy the silence today. I want to tell a story. I want to share a moment with an improv guru. I want to engage an audience. I want to communicate. I want to listen. I want to be both wiggity wack and chill. I want to rock and roll all night.

And party every day.

Today's CD: Beck "Guero"
Tracks: "E-Pro", "Que Onda Guero", "Girl", "Missing", "Black Tambourine", "Earthquake Weather", "Hell Yes", "Broken Drum", "Scarecrow", "Go It Alone", "Farewell Ride", "Rental Car", "Emergency Exit".

Pick a track, and put it in the comments. I'm making a mix CD. Called Blogeration. Pick a track from the 9th & 8th as wll if you haven't already, and put it in the comments. It'll be like whoa.

Nonsense of Humour

Humour is a strange three-eyed monster. Let me elaborate.

In grade 5, there was a recorder test. Yes, recorder. That tin whistle-like plastic squealing device we were forced to play. Mike Ewanchuk, the sort-of "school bully", was to be tested at the same time as me. We were warned by the Mrs. Walton, the music teacher, that if we were to mock or laugh at someone in the class we would receive an automatic fail.

I don't like to fail exams.

Naturally, Mike was up first for his test. Try as he might, he couldn't bleat out "Mon Ami Pierrot" to save his miserable life. Then came the swearing... Man, it's funny when a young man with a recorder swears.

I feel like laughing... realizing I will fail if I do, I cover my mouth. I start "nose laughing". I cover my nose. I turn blue.

Mrs Walton screams "Shawn! Why are you trying to kill yourself?"

Wha? Cha-who? Come again?

I'm hauled down to the principal's office. I plead my case. He doesn't believe a boy would try to kill himself over a recorder test. I'm forced to tell the school councillor I'm suicidal...

This story is somehow hilarious. Traumatic at the time, but hilarious in retrospect. Thus, the nonsense of humour. The monster that is comedy.

Today's CD: The Bravery (Please, pick a track and let me know for my compilation)
Tracks: "An Honest Mistake", "No Brakes", "Fearless", "Tyrant", "Give In", "Swollen Summer", "Public Service Announcement", "Out of Line", "Unconditional", "The Ring Song", "Rites of Spring". (PS-- yes, you know the Bravery. "Don't look at me that waaaaay, It was an honest mistaaaake)

Time to make a Compilation

It's been a long, long time since I've made a mix tape/CD.

So it's time, and you're all gonna help me.

Basically, I'll say what's in my CD player. I'll list the tracks. Then, you tell me which track to go in da mix. If nobody comments, I'll make my own choice. I won't explain this every time, but at the end of my post, I'll mention a new CD every time. I swear.

Let's Begin:
Artist: Ben Folds
Album:Songs for Silverman
Tracks: "Bastard", "You to Thank", "Jesusland", "Landed", "Gracie", "Trusted", "Give Judy My Notice", "Late", "Sentimental Guy", "Time", "Prison Food".

If you don't know the artist or the songs, just pick one at random. It'll be fun.

Girls Should Wanna have Fun

You know who you are.

Don't let the boys of the Improv world have all the fun. You're capable, all of you, and you're all separate entities with dynamic personalities. Don't let anyone (especially me) group you together and generalize...

Oh shit, I just did.

But you get my point.

Hosting... with a little help. 

Climbing the Hill to, uh, Improv Bliss?

Honestly, I've told a couple of folks that I'm in an "improv valley" at the moment. I feel like I'm ready to begin my ascent.

Improv really is a series of peaks and valleys. At one time, I was exclusively hosting along Marc and Amy. It was wicked. I want to be in that spot again. I'm confident... seriously, I am. Don't look at me that way.

I'm going to court an agent this month. I'm going to send her a video of my work, a one-page spread of my live theatre photos, an outdated 8 X 10 (gosh darn it), and an updated résumé. Is that too much to send? I seriously don't know, but I'll try. I'm sick of not doing it when I've done so much training. I'd love for someone to just give me some lines that I could act the shit out of. It would feel so damn easy all of a sudden... Anyone that has any pointers, that'd be awesome.

Play the Game, Playas.

Theatresports is a game. I've reflected on this while teaching and performing.

It's a game, so succeeding at it all the time would be boring. Hell, if I slapped myself around every time I fell down a hole in Mario, landed on Boardwalk in Monopoly, or the bottle spun to another dude in Spin the Bottle, I'd be dead.

I know, since I do it all the time, that it's easy to punish yourself for "bad" improv. Don't do it. Watching someone punish themselves is like jamming broken glass up your nose. Very, very uncomfortable.

Confidence and communication. Use them, they are your tools. Calmness can be too, but hey, so can insane psycho energy. This is sort of a Buddhist society we belong to. There is a balance to everything. Of course, a carpenter doesn't have only 3 tools in his toolbox, and every carpenter doesn't use the same tools... whoa... One toke over the line.

Namaste, Playas...

Josh... Now That's what I call Quite Good.

Three Cheers for Free Ride...
Three Cheers for Josh Dean...

I was going to go on about fake stories about Josh, but I'll just tell a real one.

Myself, Josh, and a bunch of the boys were in a Karen Towsley show at the UofA: "The Pedant". I was a punk, and thinking that I'd throw a monkeywrench into things (this was an improvised show), I changed a quick section of the show into something needlessly long. Josh had the solution (here's what was said):

Shawn: Don't say another word.

Josh: But--

Shawn: Just enjoy the silence.

Josh: Okay.

Shawn: Okay. (long, ridiculous silence)

Josh: But if I don't say anything, the scene won't progress.

Burst of Audience laughter. That's why Josh has a show and I do not. Unless they made a show called "Uncomfortable Silence and a Man who looks Stunning in Drag".