The cruise ships have arrived and the city's population has doubled overnight. I saw a man trying to move a refridgerator in his truck. It fell out onto the street and the poor guy was struggling to get it back on the truck bed so me and a few people ran over to help him lift it up again. And this tourist hopped out into the middle of the road and took a picture of it.
This print-shirt-clad fuckwit had mountains surrounding him, bald eagles landing on his shoulder, whales turning tricks in the ocean next to him, and virtually every other manifestation of god's glory surrounding him ... but no. This jackass chuckled his way to a picture of a sad little chubby man trying to move his fridge. I almost thought, "Jeez! Americans are annoying!" Until I realized that we're still in America and I'm just as annoying in my own way.
Is anyone out there in love? Just curious. I bet it feels great. The inexhausibly re-playable Garden State soundtrack is under this post, so I thought I'd ask.
Here's a conversation I had with The Most Wasted Alaskan I've Ever Met:
(Karl, Gene, Dan, and Will sit at The Imperial near the back pool table. A short man with a red Stanford University hooded sweatshirt and a baseball cap comes up. He is quite young.)
SHORT MAN: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey. You all from where I don't hey not you come from know where you're here, man!
GENE: What's up, dude.
SHORT MAN: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, that's right what's up because born and raised try to fuck with me have both talk with the captain, right?
SHORT MAN: Right.
SHORT MAN: That's what I'm saying. Boom time with that, huh, I say BOOM!
(At this point, Karl, against his better judgement, decides to talk to the short man in his native language. Karl has had but one alcoholic beverage at this point.)
SHORT MAN: Hey!
KARL: You gotta break four after the Buddha done regent wholesale with the smokestacks.
SHORT MAN(laughing): Hahahahahahahaha, yeah fuck Budha.
KARL(laughing): I would tap gone eight thousand after Susan broke hafta Ernest Borgnine crap table with the Jesus.
SHORT MAN: I take both Buddha come through to that fat motherfucker and two Jesus could do that, say what I say.
KARL: Yeah, you say what I hear.
SHORT MAN: I say what you say what I read what you hear.
KARL: So. Did you really go to Stanford or did you just find that sweatshirt?
SHORT MAN: Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, you know some guy mess with me when I was eight, I stabbed him in the motherfucking head like a crazy so since then I be Crazy Eddie! That's right!
(At this point, the Short Man takes off his cap to reveal that he's mostly bald. And crazy.)
KARL: You stabbed him?
CRAZY EDDIE: That's right, neh-heh.
KARL: What was his name?
CRAZY EDDIE: He dead! Don't have a name anymore, neh-heh-heh-heh-heh!
(Crazy Eddie re-enacts the stabbing using a cocktail straw and a rather impressive array of mimed kicks.)
CRAZY EDDIE: Woo! Dah! Ha-ha! Speejaw!
So that was fun. But not especially rare. I realize that transcribing an encounter with a drunken ex-con can't match the re-telling, but oh well.
The audiences have been picking up steadily. It was slim pickin's for a while after opening night. But now we've been playing to pretty much full houses and should have a healthy final two weeks before we're done. I've entered this wierd dimension where I've done this show for so long it's like a recurring dream -- meaning I don't switch on autopilot, necessarily, but the emotions have been choreographed as tenaciously as the movement. So with muscle-memory comes a kind of unstoppable empathy surge. I don't know what to call it exactly, but I was shocked to find that I wasn't really thinking anymore during the show. It's a good thing for me because I tend to think too much on stage -- all of my characters have to pass through the cerebral checkpoint before they make it out. But after two years working on this monster, there's no fear. And the cool thing is, there's no boredom either. Sure, I'd like to move onto something else soon and I wish I had more energy to give each performance, but all-in-all ... this is a pretty cool challenge.