Pass the Nard . . .

Roar of the greasepaint. . . we could sure use some anointing. T minus two days in the La Mama Experimental Theatre Company first floor space. Imagine if you will that the lights haven’t really been set, most of the props have just arrived, the costumes need some tucking and tweaking, the hats are never where you think they’re going to be, the exits aren’t where we planned, tonight we have a drummer but no piano player, the wigs keep slipping off (at least mine do), and what ever happened to the dependable old days when the sturdier sex was always overflowing with bobby pins? This is the truth of the Modern Age: no one has a damn bobby pin when your wig is slipping off. Anyway, that’s us.

A long and lively rehearsal tonight. Chaos reigned and tempers muddled. I do believe if I wear the gray politician wig and say “I did not have sex with that woman” in Clintonesque tones just one more time, someone is going to thump me. I’ll probably deserve it. One way or another, on Thursday night “The Good Faith” opens, and you know? It will be a show. Life in the theatre. I’ve missed it.

Katarina our adorable stage manager is back, and she confessed that she couldn’t face a future without me in it. Or perhaps she said “Nice to see you too,” I wasn’t sure, she has a bit of an accent.

Nard? Yes, we were talking about nard just the other day. Some words you just have to flex when you find them. If I don’t say “nard,” who will? No such worries with my Clinton impression: if you Google the phrase “I did not have sex with that woman,” an astounding 12,200 results return.

About Linus

The man behind the curtain. But couldn't we get a nicer curtain?
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