Blank Stage, Blank Page

So ... The Poptimists is now another line on the resume, a binder in my collective works, and a footnote in San Jose theater.

Striking the show is always an odd feeling. Physically taking the show apart, folding it and putting it away in storage is an incredibly literal metaphor for closure.

It was a very quick strike (less than an hour) and when we were done, all that was left was the clean, barren stage, freshly painted and ready for the next collection of creative ideas and artists. Like we'd never even been there

But that also is the magic of theater. The stage remains, waiting for the next band of gypsies to build, paint, rehearse, argue, praise, triumph, fail, succeed and enjoy their efforts.

As for this journey, it was a long one for being so short. I started writing the show in March and now it's over in December. Some writers wait years, decades to see their work produced. Some never get the chance at all.

I have to remind myself of that from time to time when I get overwhelmed in the details of producing a work. I don't enjoy it as much as I should when I'm concerned with so many other things about producing the show.

Once we opened The Poptimists, I actually did get to sit back and enjoy it most of the time. I got to stay in the moment and not worry about getting this or that, or making sure this happens, or that person has everything. (Having amazing stage managers will do that for you ... I've tried to avoid naming names in this entire little online enterprise, but I must thank Richard Cartwright and Marilyn Vaillancourt for their unwavering support, earth-moving efforts, and warm friendship. They have meant and do mean the world to me.)

And the show was short enough so I could stand in the back of the house and watch every moment of every performance, taking mental notes on how to improve a lyric here, a line there and some of the staging for future productions.

I'm very proud of my young cast and seasoned crew. So many wonderful people working so hard to put on something I wrote. (It still amazes me that people will do that.) And now a bunch of new friends from a new generation, too. I get to add them to my already wonderful collection of close, long-time friends. I had to dust off the old middle-aged brain and learn to be a little crazy again on a different level.

I never really went out much and "partied" with the cast, but we had so much fun during rehearsals, that I felt I had. The final cast party and the dinner before our closing performance was the most time I spent with them (collectively) outside of the show. Sometimes the cast needs to go out and be able to talk about the progress of the show without the director (and writer) being there and inadvertently inhibiting the conversation.

All just really wonderful people.

And at the informal cast party, as I sat off to the side in the large papa-san chair in the living room of the apartment for our last time together, I watched and listened to them having so much fun, energetic fun, and I smiled as I flashed back to the years when I was in the middle of that kind of group who was laughing so hard, singing current Broadway tunes, popular songs and just enjoying being a cast together.

And I realized that yes, I have become jaded and cynical in some ways ... but I can still make just about anybody laugh.

And The Poptimists did that for a lot of people.

And it's still a good feeling.

And So the Opening Cometh ... and Goeth

The baby is born, I can relax.

Opening night on Friday went almost as well as any opening can. A packed and over-friendly house, the sound was crystal clear, the cast was near-flawless and used the few mistakes they did make, and the audience liked the show.

The Saturday shows also went well, and the Sunday matinee was essentially a sell-out.

The cast is happy. The audiences seem happy. I'm happy.

Happy.

First review was favorable as to my goal for the show. The gentleman made some excellent remarks which I shall incorporate into the book of the next draft for the show. Personally, I don't feel someone has to be familiar with 1970 pop culture to understand the show, but perhaps I expect too much from the under-30 crowd.

I have many ideas for improving the show, but I just feel like doing nothing tonight. We have Monday night off and then six performances over the next five days.

Not looking forward to facing real life again. I've neglected it so long that it's not going to be pretty.

So I'll put it off until morning and watch the video tape of opening again. Lots of laughter and remembering how great I felt hearing it live.

Was it all worth it? Hard to say. I think I'll wait until after the show closes on Saturday.

Meanwhile, I'll sit back, enjoy my sofa, and not worry about a thing for a few hours. Or maybe finally get a decent night's sleep.

Well done, Ted. There's a lot more work to do to get The Poptimists' future lined up, but take the night off.

You deserve it.

And try ... just once ... to enjoy the moment.

Hump Day. What Hump?

Wednesday morning. Ice-cold outside (for Silicon Valley, that is).

There are still a billion (much smaller) details to do and I'm stuck at home ... waiting for the phone to ring for two phone interviews about the show, scheduled between 10 and noon.

Don't get me wrong, it's great that we're getting some press, but there's so much more I have do ... props, costumes, lighting cues, scraping together rent by 5pm tomorrow (and not the show Rent)...

This week, my hump day will be Friday.

I can't do anything the normal way.

The Poptimists itself is really coming together nicely. Between most of the costumes and adding the band last night, I'm very happy with where we're at.

The cast looks frighteningly like the group that the show is based on. I'll put up a few rehearsal pictures when I get some from my assistant stage manager.

Ticket sales are not going as well as I had hoped. We only have ten compressed days of performances (with Monday off), so word-of-mouth will have to work fast to result in ticket sales for the rest of the run. And of course, you never get the empty seats back from the first weekend.

But everyone seems to be having fun with it, and it's a fairly short show, so only about three of we staff members are really tired. The cast seems peppy -- exactly what the show calls for.

Well, back to waiting for the phone to ring, from the people I want to talk to, that is. I hate screening calls, but sometimes Life puts you in a position where other people call you, too ...

Yes, this week, my hump day will be Friday.

It'll be real interesting to see where I am then ... in a number of ways.

Now ring, you stupid phone! I've got stuff to do!

What the ... Hell Week?

Well, when did we get here? Sunday. The last Sunday rehearsal. And we open on Friday.

The Thanksgiving break was desperately needed, although we didn't have access to the theater for four whole days and therefore had no rehearsals. And one actor has been gone all week, so we have to put him back in Sunday night.

And we have no live accompaniment on Monday night, and we don't start with the band until Tuesday night.

Yeah, I'm worrying about a few things ...

The good thing is, the show is so short we can run it twice a night, so we actually have ten run-thrus instead of just five. Also, since my stage manager and I are both unemployed, we can set lights during the day. The only advantage of being under-employed.

The set and costumes are coming together, sound is being set the next two nights, so I think if I can finish making all the props we need, we just might pull this off.

My youngest older sister Patty is coming to town from Colorado this week and will be coming to see the show (and what her brother does with the time he should be using for something else a little more financially stable).

I'm just about past the final panic push and into the "calm acceptance and get the show up there the best it can be" point. I usually don't get to the calm point until Wednesday of Hell Week.

But I have a ton of real life stuff accounting for the stress lately. Just no more room for any stress about the show.

The kids are doing a really good job onstage. I just need to give a little more guidance so the general staging has a little more focus.

And so I shall. And so shall I continue making the props and painting the set and theater at all hours for our Friday opening.

So ... yeah, I'm pretty calm. And I'll hold off on the excitement until Friday night.

Almost there. From one night in March when I challenged myself to write a whole show in one month, to opening night.

One question: what happens after we close on the 12th?

The Worst Part

Two weeks from opening. Usually a hectic time when just directing show.

But when you're directing, vocally directing, finding and building props, designing and executing the set, finishing up last-minute staging and not even begun the lighting or sound plots, it can be a wee bit daunting.

Cast is doing well. The performances will be fun.

Getting there this weekend isn't.

So much to do ... so little time ... so little manpower. And my brain and energy are shot.

"So ... why am I talking to you?" -- Hedley Lamarr, Blazing Saddles. (Well ... a slight variation thereof).

At Least Fate Gets to Laugh ...

So ... I have most of my cast last night. One is late without calling and misses getting measured for costumes. Still some sniffles and coughs here and there, but overall, everyone seems better.

My cast is healing.

This morning I get an e-mail. My scheduled accompanist has been sick for four days and can't make it. (And for her to not make it she must be really sick.)

So I initially put out an e-mail to my other accompanists who, months ago, said they could not play this particular date. One replies he "might" be able to juggle his schedule (bless him).

Then I remember one of my cast has filled in before and is a brilliant accompanist, so I tell the others to relax. I have it covered.

Five minutes later, I get an e-mail from that very same cast member saying he's been called in to a mandatory meeting at work tonight and can't come to rehearsal.

Some days it just doesn't pay to get up ...

Shoo, Flu, Shoo!

Yes, it's been over a month since I've made an entry. Real life has been bl*gblocking me.

So ... where to begin ...

The good news: I am guaranteed to keep a roof over my head until at least Thanksgiving weekend, the week before The Poptimists opens.

Wouldn't it be a wonderful story if the guy who wrote and directed this show was living in his car on opening night?

No. I don't think so, either.

Two weeks into rehearsals and half my cast is out with the flu. (Various kinds, one of which isH1N1.) So I gave them all four days off to stay home and get better. I'm feeling fine, so that means I'll get deathly ill during Hell Week (the week of opening).

It always happens that way to me. Something really bad happens (usually health-related) a few days before something really good happens. The result: I can't enjoy the good thing.

We resume rehearsals tomorrow night. First off, measuring for costumes.

I went fabric shopping with my seamstresses today. (And I can guarantee, I've never typed or uttered that sentence before in my life.) I actually found the fabric we ended up buying at the second store we went to. And we got 20% off! And why am I so excited about that?

And yes, I got a lot of looks in line while waiting to get the fabric measured and cut. It looked like I was with my two grandmothers. (Extremely sweet, generous and talented ladies, they are.)

Also, I found preppy sweaters for my male cast members who will be wearing white pants and deck shoes. So I think we're just about set on the costumes.

Now, just sets, lighting, sound and construction. Oh, yes ... and staging the rest of the entire show, too!

My swine flu cast member is not allowed to return until Tuesday. And I never got the tenth cast member I needed, so I'm writing his part out as we block the show.

I've been blessed with a friend who is sharing vocal director duties with me for a few rehearsals. She's been a tremendous help and really gets the cast singing wonderfully. (Another wonderful, generous friend who's helping me get this show mounted.)

There are other things going on that I can't talk about here that are driving me crazy! (Cast and staff, it's none of you). And on top of it all, unemployment is now gone, I have no money coming in, and am just about completely, utterly, flat broke.

And I'm producing a show.

For a comic writer, sometimes I have lousy timing.

At least my cast is still laughing at all the right places during rehearsals. And they catch on to everything very quickly.

We open in a little under four weeks.

It's going to be a very interesting month ...

Thespis Thends a Thunami

Had our photo shoot for The Poptimists last weekend. To my surprise the entire incomplete cast showed up. (One had been minorly injured and the other said he probably couldn't get away, but they both came anyway).

And we had a blast.

I'm beginning to suspect there can be loyal, talented and funny people under the age of 40 after all.

We did spoofs of famous album covers of folk groups from the late 60's, including an overhead shot of the cast in a circle, looking up at the camera. It turned out great!

That was the last bit of pre-production I thought I'd have to be involved in. I've since discovered that my arranger and co-producer have not spoken about compensation for the musicians, and that I don't know if have any musicians yet except for the arranger, who plays drums. (Hey ... we can do Stomp! instead.)

Also, it looks like I'll also be waving the baton as vocal director. Get the Ben Gay ready.

And I yet to have, as of this writing, a rehearsal accompanist.

I have also decided that due to my multi-hat involvement in this show, that I'm going to take a cue from Fiddler on the Roof and actually write a Choreographer's Book which will include the staging, the corresponding measures and the rationale behind each movement in each number.

I do this not out of ego, for I am surely no Jerome Robbins who painstaking created the staging for Fiddler, but out of fear for my memory. If I have a detailed description of each number's staging, I think I might be able to maintain some kind of consistency from rehearsal to rehearsal. (Not to mention appointing a Dance Captain and giving him/her a copy for when I'm busy conducting, setting lights, painting or selling concessions ...)

Did I also mention I'm designing the flyer ... both sides? (But I love doing the graphics stuff ... I just wish I weren't doing almost everything else as well).

Historically, I've rarely gotten to see performances of my own shows because I've always had to step in and run sound, or actually help move sets, or the like. I really, really want to just sit in the house during this one.

But I know after working with the cast at the photo shoot, that we'll have a lot of fun at rehearsals.

I just hope all the other stuff stays fun as well.

Sometimes being a Leo really sucks.

Bumps ... and Financial Goosebumps

Well, six weeks to go before we start rehearsals and I've already lost my first cast member -- even before I've completed the original casting!

Not completely surprised, though. I figured I might lose one or two, but for other reasons. My ex-cast member had something serious and personal to deal with and respected me enough to confide in me. And I agreed that leaving the show would be the best thing for him/her at this time.

I had thought since my show is rehearsing and playing through much of the "holiday season", that a few of my actors would leave because they got "better offers" or decided they'd rather go skiing. I'm pleased to say that's not case -- as of this writing.

And I'm also very pleased that when my existing cast members heard the news, they sprang into action and spread the word about openings in our cast to their much younger grapevine. I feel I'm so much older than they are that I'm more a raisin than a grape these days.

So I'm hearing a few more people on Sunday night. Back in the comfort of the theater where I essentially started my directing "career". And one of my cast members volunteered to play piano for these Poptimist wannabes.

In addition, I'm now at the point where my decisions will be costing money.

While I have the generous assurance that everything will be covered, I still hate spending other people's money, especially when that money belongs to people I know personally. And I'm also facing the embarrassment of having to ask for money up front since I'm in no position to front the money myself, even for a few days.

I'm committed now (or should have been long ago). I'm torn between doing what's best for the show, and being frugal for the sake of my backers.

As usual, the answer will lie somewhere between. (Man, I hate it when Eastern philosophy f*cks with my art.)

So off I go to cost a set and the costumes (both mercifully are quite simple and easy to procure). And I need to set up photo shoots, schedule publicity which doesn't overlap the publicity that my partner company may or may not be planning.

I directed once for the American Musical Theatre of San Jose (then known as San Jose Civic Light Opera). They were once the largest subscription musical theater in the country -- and went bankrupt late last year, just months short of their 75th anniversary.

They were such an "organization" that all I had to do as the Director was direct and spearhead creative meetings. That was it. I didn't have to design, create, shop for or build anything.

It was Heaven.

But I'm willing to work harder for a show I've created from scratch. New everything, no pre-conceptions of how the show should be done, no idiots singing along in the audience because the score is being debuted, no weird "non-traditional casting" to cover the fact that a director can't come up with a new enough concept within the framework of the script to keep it fresh and entertaining as originally intended. (That was the playwright and composer in me getting in a little jab.)

So ... spend I will. Build I will. Stage I will. Vocally direct I will.

Man ... I have a lot of will!

The-The-The-uh, That's All (For Now) Folks!

Well, I gave this a shot and the way things are going now, I'm just not up for this whole online journal thing (I still refuse to use the B-word).

So I'd like to thank my two or three readers.

[insert crickets chirping]

I'll be deleting this entire bl -- oops -- "thing" some time this week.

And now ... on with the show.

--Ted

AFTERWORD: Okay, one of my two readers asked me not to delete this, so here it stays for now. I just won't be adding to it as much until Life returns to something not resembling a 70's After-School Special about "What's Wrong with Uncle Ted?"

Casting: It's Hard in Fishing AND Theater

Almost a week later now, and I'm still looking for three more actors to complete the cast of The Poptimists. Real life got in the way for a few days and to be honest, I haven't done much about the casting. But the little hurdles are gone and I have no excuse not to complete the cast.

I have two very good possibilities for two of the roles and absolutely none for the third.

You need to know, that I have been completely spoiled when casting shows and revues that I've written. I have a circle of a dozen or so amazingly talented friends who, for some reason, always say yes when I ask them to be in one of my shows. And they're SO talented, that their great performances are a given.

I don't have to worry about them being able to learn the music or how to really perform it. In short, when working with them I really don't have to worry about directing, vocally directing or the musical accompaniment.

Well, that's all gone now.

I'm working with some very talented people this time around, too, but I'm working with most of them for the very first time. They're young, enthusiastic and make this old jaded writer/composer smile.

So what's my problem?

Well, I'm going to actually have to work on this one. I'm going to have to get off my complacent ass and get back on my feet. Since our budget is almost nothing, I can't afford to hire a vocal director or choreographer. So I'll probably be doing both. I might actually have to train to keep up with this cast.

Which brings me back to casting.

I think until the auditions for this show, I knew about four or five performers 18-25 years of age. I had just done Zeigfeld in The Will Rogers Follies a few months earlier, so I had been around some of them, but I really hadn't worked with any in a few years.

So I had no network to get the word out to these wonderful young actors. It's kind of embarrassing to admit that out of three days of auditions, I only had fifteen performers show up. Luckily, almost all of them were very good ... or even better than very good.

I have no qualms about leaving my creative comfort zone of working with my contemporaries (well, they're all a few years younger than I am), it's just the timing of this show will be very interesting.

Real life will be forcing some major changes in my private life, really shaking up a lot of things which I had hoped would be settled by now. So now my creative world will be rocked as well.

Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly excited about doing this show. I fully expect to laugh my ass of while producing it and enjoying becoming really good friends with this cast of ten (which still stands at seven at this point). I just wish it could have been produced six months ago when I wrote it ... and for the reasons I wrote it.

The Poptimists is not only a funny little show which will be really entertaining, but it's an investment. This inaugural production will "set the show" and make it one that, if reasonably successful, could be easily produced by other groups, colleges and high schools.

See where I'm going with this?

But back to casting. (I seem to drift a lot when writing on a lazy, finally cool Sunday afternoon.)

I fully expect to have nine cast members by the end of this week. Finding the tenth is going to be a big, big challenge. But I keep reminding myself: I didn't know over half the existing cast before auditions, so someone will come along. Someone I probably don't know today.

But hopefully will know very, very soon!

For now, it's back to producing the rehearsal CD for the cast that I do have. (And they're so good that I'm expecting my tenure as vocal director will be a lot easier than I originally thought before I got my cast.)

And I also plan on enjoying this gorgeous end-of-summer, preview-of-autumn afternoon, before my very personally tenuous autumn begins!

Maturity can be so overrated.

Now, where's the butler with my Nestle's Quik?

It's Limbo Time! How Low Can You Go?

Okay, lots of little pre-production things going on for The Poptimists lately.

I'm still trying to fill the last three slots. I might have two of them, but I need to hear at least two more people before I decide. Finding Kevin (not to be confused with Finding Nemo) is proving to be an impossible task. (Kevin is the young black male who has to sing close to James Brown in style, and look 18-25 in an intimate theater.)

No one is available. The guy I had in mind for the part (and who was really interested in it) will be out of town on business our opening weekend.

So I'm wondering if a rewrite is the way to go. Very tough decision. A lot of the social satire requires that I have a black couple in the show. I could make Kevin Mexican-American, but it would alter a lot of the meatier material.

I still have seven weeks before rehearsals start so I'm only slightly nervous at this point. But that will change by the end of next week.

Also, I'm delivering the last two piano arrangements to my musical arranger, and I'm debating if I really should be the vocal director for the show. The numbers have very specific ways they must be sung, and I feel if I get someone to come in and do the vocals direction I might, as the composer, become a real pest. ("Um, no ... you see if they sing it that way, it isn't funny.")

Satire is very specific. It's not like we're doing The Music Man and having to find some new way of interpreting the music. I figure for the original production, doing it as written just might be the way to go. Call me wild, call me mad ... I just know I might end up with a vocal director who doesn't "get it." Not a put-down, it's just that this is a very specific kind of spoof.

On the other hand, I'm directing and staging the entire production, designing the set (good thing it's minimal), kind of designing the costumes (again, good that each woman and each guy wears the same thing, so it's essentially just two costumes) and designing some of the printed collateral.

And on top of that I'd better be working at a new full-time job by then.

So, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed and we haven't even started rehearsals yet.

In the words of Gene Wilder's Willa Wonka, "Oh, deary dear ..."

So, while I have a gazillion things to attend to, I still feel like I'm in limbo. I think once the ten parts are cast, I'll feel a lot better about everything.

I noticed at least two of my cast members have listed The Poptimists on their profiles at artsopolis. com

Yep ... looks like this is really happening.

Better get back to it.

Oh, look! A rerun of Two and a Half Men is on right now!

Knock, Knock. Who Is It? Real Life. Um ... I'm Not Home!

After a second audition I got two more terrific cast members, and a possible third. So that means I still need 2 or 3 more cast members. But at least I'm getting there. I have eight weeks until we start rehearsals, so I'm not worried ... yet.

Seems I have plenty more to worry about in its place.

Now that my birthday's passed, the working drafts of my script and score are done, and my multiple simultaneous housesitting gigs are through, I have no more reason to avoid -- Real Life.

For (especially) the last six months I have been dodging, weaving, putting off, hiding from and generally trying to ignore the rest of my daily life. But the pardons, the excuses, and the extensions are all coming to an end this month.

Sure, I could still tweak the rehearsal CD which I need to get to my cast, but there's no getting around the fact that some big things must change.

This month.

I must find a full-time "real job" regardless of how miserable it will make me. Yes, I'd be appreciative for the money, but I've had my lion's share of completely unrewarding jobs. My body's falling apart. I'm not 19, just starting out. I know people, damn it! People in high places!

Just not any that can hire me ...

And I need to decide what will be over my head starting in October. I've lived in this apartment complex most of my semi-independent life and the idea of moving is as attractive to me as a root canal. Well, less, actually. I've had a few root canals and I know what I'm getting there.

Yeah, "change is good", yadda-yadda-yadda, but the only place I can go is down. I'm not living in a penthouse, but my little second-story, one-bedroom apartment has a nice view of the foothills and I've never been robbed in 23 years here ... I really like this area of San Jose.

And then, of course, there's that "first, last, security deposit, application" thing.

I think of how many writers had little or nothing for so much of their lives, and how they supposedly wrote their best works in shacks, shanties, or under trees. The struggles they endured to find enough food and shelter as they wrote the next War and Peace or Evangeline. The hardships they endured just to get one work of theirs published or produced.

And I sit back and think to myself:

Well, fuck that!

The legends I like are the ones about how some writers and artists had patrons, which allowed them the luxury of writing at tiny tables at outdoor French cafes, or composing melodies in their heads as they drove with lovely companions in carriages through the European countryside. (Hell, I'd settle for riding a burro through Vasona Park.)

Now, I have had many, many incredibly wonderful people help me out during this huge Dip in My Life. And I intend to mention each and every one of them when I'm onstage at the Tonys ... or at least in my last will and testament. But I've gone through some absolutely horrendous mental and emotional crap, too, which frequently sucked every molecule of creativity out of me, and I want it over and done with. (By the way, just how does one use the expression "over and done with" and not use a preposition to end a sentence with?)

I want to be able to enjoy preparing, writing and directing The Poptimists. Not just "fit it into my schedule" because a crappy job is taking up most of my day and my energy. Is that really too much to ask?

I don't want the distractions of Real Life hanging over my head. So much of Real Life has ruined what otherwise should have been incredibly happy moments and events in my life. (I was fighting incredible depression while acting as the Narrator onstage during my second show of my music and lyrics.)

Been there. Done that. Don't wanna do it anymore. I'm just not wired that way!

I realized quite some time ago that the reason I accept jobs I don't want is to punish myself for not being successful at what I truly want to be doing because the jobs I take don't help in that regard and take too much energy away from the things I really want to be successful at.

Got that?

Maybe there's a way I can break my oddly neurotic circle and be free of what most Americans can't be free of. Maybe there's a way I can manage to cheat until the day I finally exit this worldly stage. Maybe I can --

Hold on.

Target's on the phone. This could be about the $9/hour Night Janitor job.

Xeroxing Makes It Official

Well, my libretto and vocal book are being copied off almost as we speak.

Tomorrow (Saturday) are the second (and hopefully final) auditions for The Poptimists. Some of the performers already cast are showing up for an early dinner afterward and I wanted to be able to give them their materials.

Two months before we start rehearsals. Occasionally, I do prepare ahead of time.

Now, since this is a world premiere, I'm a little more paranoid about giving out the materials in an age of Facebook, YouTube, Twitter and MySpace. It was hard enough to keep control over my materials before the internet was even around for the average Joe. Now you send something out there and within twenty seconds it's downloaded by some tribal chief in Chad.

Trust is even more important these days. I've instructed my staff and will instruct my cast that NOTHING from this show is to be posted ANYWHERE, or even duplicated. I am not, though, without heart. So cell phone photos of rehearsals will be allowed ... as long as I'm not in them.

I have no clue as to why I feel that way about the last thing. I just don't like people seeing me working with the actors. I want them to see the final result and then tell me if they like it or not. I suppose it's a little because I assume a lot when watching a rehearsal, and I just don't want others to do the same to my project. Yeah, it's a slight violation of an offshoot of the Golden Rule, but I just don't like showing anything that's not ready to be shown.

Neurotic? A tad.

It's strange not hurrying to fine tune or polish anything these days. Certainly things will change once we start rehearsals, but the material is "set" for now. As a matter of fact I have the extra time to type this entry since I'm not futzing over dialogue, music or lyrics at the moment.

But I am getting to do a few last-minutes things for auditions, so my "stress" jones is getting satisfied -- at least tonight.

I'm hoping to finish the casting tomorrow, but am fairly sure there's one role I won't be able to fill yet. So that means I might have to play it. Think I could be convincing as a 22-year-old, buff-but-slender black male who can sing the shit out of a song?

[insert cricket sounds]

Hmmmm ... I might get letters ... and besides, I want to get laughs where they're supposed to be.

Corner. n. A Place Out of Which It Is Hard to Get.

Well, the rewrites and the finishing and the polishing and the tinkering are all going along pretty well for The Poptimists.

One of the ways I manage to keep going during a writing or composing session is that when I hit a snag, I just jump past it, keep going, and finish the first draft of whatever it is I'm working on. I'll continue through the project and then go back and attack those stumbling blocks later, during the second pass.

Yes, it's possible to procrastinate even as you're actually sitting there and writing what it is you're trying to put off ...

Now the second pass is where I realize just how big the original problem was and I get angry with myself for not fixing it the first time through. And, of course, sufficient time has passed so sometimes I can't remember just exactly what it was I was going for at the time I originally passed over the creative bump.

Right now, it's a musical problem. I'm working on the "macho" number for the boys called B.M.O.C. It's a jazzy kind of thing that modulates up (changes to a higher musical key) near the end of each verse. The problem is, I can't figure out how to modulate back down in time for the second verse.

Fortunately, this has happened to me only a few times in nearly 40 years of composition. (Why yes, I am over 40. Thank you for the compliment.) Had I actually studied composition, I'm sure the answer would be simple and elegant. As it is now, it's abrupt and clunky ... but still musically sound.

Yes, it seems I am ... the Rocky Balboa of musical theater composition.

My arranger says he can easily "fix it" when he does the arrangement for the band. But the thing is, I need a piano score version to rehearse with, so that means I've got to fix it (which the stubborn Leo in me insists on doing anyway).

The "fix" usually ends up being so simple that I either think of it right away, or would never come to it in 500 years.

I think I have it licked, though. I just have to make sure it's smooth enough so people hearing the song don't sprain their ears and necks because it's too abrupt. Likewise, I don't want them so mystified that I end up with audience of RCA dogs. (Heads slightly cocked to one side with a confused expression their faces).

[insert cricket sounds]

So yes, I have every confidence that this problem shall be conquered.

On the third pass.

Now I'm Bookin' Along!

It's 3:15am and I just finished my first rewrite of the book for The Poptimists.

I was worried the book was a little thin, but after my tinkering it went from 31 pages (not bad for a musical revue) to 40 pages! My characters started taking over and it just flowed out. I love it when that happens!

As a result of wanting to finish the book, I also finished the remaining lyrics to two of the songs, so I got that done, too!

One of those sessions when I really feel like I know what I'm doing ... they're rare so I'm going to relish this as long as I can ... well, as long as I can stay awake, that is.

Of course I still have to hear everything when it gets on its feet. Hearing and watching the actors perform my stuff is like being in another universe. The material ceases being a series of typed characters and becomes actual stage stuff!

Most of the time I've been lucky. The performers add so much to the material, and it really crystalizes what changes need to be made.

So no long-winded prose this time around. Just a milestone reached and a book we can now start working with ... and I still have over two months before rehearsals start!

Hopefully I'll enjoy this a little while longer until I fall asleep and my face hits the keybo--

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And the World Goes 'Round

Well, I'm going to figuratively put the pen down for a little while on this one, (Right. As if I've been strictly writing only about writing to this point), and get a wee bit too personal.

So ... Two score and fourteen orbits of the Earth ago, my mom gave me the distinct honor of experiencing childbirth from the inside out. Literally.

I've always felt it's the mother who should get the cake and presents on one's birthday. After all, they do all the work. All we do is appear ... and try not to fall on the floor of the Delivery Room.

To quote one of my lyrics (and you know how much writers love to quote themselves): "If they [men] had to have the babies, then we'd all be extinct."

So thanks, Moms! From the initial push out into the world, to the inevitable push out the front door into the world. We couldn't be here without you.

I've noticed two things that happen on my birthday the past few years:

1. I miss my mom a lot more.
2. I do the mid-year self-evaluation thing. (New Year's Eve is usually the other day I partake in this always-humbling activity.)

So here's this birthday's session.

My last two birthdays have not been particularly good ones as far as Life In General goes. I still have my three wonderful sisters and their families. And I still have an amazing collection of extraordinary friends.

Also, the lack of full-time 9-5 employment itself doesn't depress me. But the lack of money from the lack of full-time employment does. (I'm always "working". It's just the pay scale dramatically changes from day to day). Over such an extended period of time this time, it has affected me in very profound ways: a few good, and some horrendously bad.

I've never measured success by wealth. It can be achieved in many ways besides good, hard work and ingenuity. Inheritance, Enron and venture capital without actually producing anything come to mind. I wrote an entire show about that last one. (Don't get me wrong. To anyone who has achieved wealth through good, hard work and ingenuity, my hat's off to you and you have my utmost respect.)

But I do associate failure with poverty. At least, for me. True, money doesn't make the man. Money can't buy happiness. But the lack of enough money over extended periods of time can wreak havoc with self-esteem. When one has to daily juggle the mental and financial pressures that come with a lack of sufficient income, the good stuff sometimes takes a back seat to the bad.

So, I occasionally wonder: if my 20-year-old self could see his life 30+ years later, what would he do? What would he change?

1. I'd hope he'd ease up on the Reese Cups and the Macaroni & Cheese. That alone would have avoided a lot of problems.
2. I'd hope he'd have the courage to move to Los Angeles or New York, where all writers of either TV/film or theater should be ... at least when they start out.
3. I'd hope he'd have the courage and confidence to date more ... and to call back the next day and give a few women at least the chance to say no to a second date, instead of expecting that to be the foregone answer.
4. And I'd hope he'd never lose his passion and humorous cockiness.

Coulda, woulda, shoulda. (Now, don't worry ... this entry has an upbeat ending)

But I also hope he'd be blown away by what he accomplishes over 30+ years as well.

1. He set out to be a writer and composer, and while it hasn't turned into the vocation he had hoped, it has turned out a number of wonderful, albeit non-financial, victories and stories.
2. He has met a few world-famous people and gotten to work with them or their material.
3. He has gotten to work with, befriend, dance with, and on rare occasions even kiss a few of the most beautiful and amazing women he (or anyone) could ever imagine.
4. He has, over the years, met four extraordinary men he wishes he could adopt as his brothers.
5. And despite the way he sometimes feels about himself (too much lately), he still knows he is loved.

So make a wish, Ted. But you'll find almost all of them have already been granted.

And what could possibly be a better birthday present than that?