I am afraid I have once again neglected my readers...from what I have recently been told, there may be as many as 7 or 8 of you...can double digits be far away????
Lots has been happening...Thoroughly Modern Millie closed, rehearsals began for A Christmas Story, and Rumplestiltskin continues for this week and next with BCT. I really like my fellow actors, and will always seek out their friendship...however, I will not miss the show...six weeks is long enough...
Those of us who work in local theatre (I hate the term "community theatre") get rather spoiled with a 5 or 6 week rehearsal period followed by a two-weekend run...you really don't have time to get tired of the project at hand.
My dad has been in hospital for several days and will most likely be there several more...won't bore anyone with details...he's just getting old, and that's sad, but what can you do? As the saying goes, getting old beats the alternative...I have been trying to visit as often as possible, and my mother and sister are usually with him, so he hasn't lacked for company. Hopefully he can come home soon.
Mortality, as the saying goes, is a bitch. I was texting with a good friend today, and he mentioned having had chest pains over the weekend, which turned out to be nothing, but were still scary. I suppose we (my friends and I) are all reaching the age where we need to take better care of ourselves.
Time marches on...the BCT show was in Tuscaloosa last week, so I took a friend of mine from the tour out to Buffalo Phil's (beer and chicken wings) and another friend who had also gone to UA drove down and joined us. After we got through staring in utter confusion at all the junior high kids (who turned out to be college students,) we marveled at how much the landscape had changed...new buildings, etc. This reverie was wistful, but bearable, but then we saw...the horror...
THE BOOTH IS NOW A POLICE STATION!!!!!!!
For the uninitiated, The Booth was a grand old beer joint in the tradition of a bygone era...dark, smoky, loud, and in disrepair. A couple of mangy pool tables and a shabby bandstand were the only decorations other than grafitti. It was a low establishment, and reeked of beer, sweat, cigarettes and God-knows-what...relationships, vows of sobriety and good common sense seldom survived an evening at The Booth...
...and I loved it.
Now a cornerstone of my misspent youth is a police substation...all glass and chrome and shiny clean...no drug dealers, drunk sorority girls or aging hippies (except those in the drunk tank)...no beyond gawdawful student bands banging away atonally on stolen guitars...no loud laughter or rebel yells permeate the interior of this once revered/reviled establishment...
Farewell to The Booth...whenever I get almost-sick off watermelon shooters (not planning to anytime soon, but you never know...) I will think of the nights spent inside your walls.
Today from The Motherland...Harry Potter comes to Broadway...sort of...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/7079618.stm
FLT3
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2 comments:
The whole Booth thing is just depressing. It makes me really wish that I was still in college, and the Booth was still the Booth, and that I'd miss classes yet again tomorrow. Maybe that's why I've been having dreams over the past week that I'm still in high school, and I forgot to go to class, and I'm way behind on my homework. It was English class last night. And, I never found it.
Man... I just need to spend a weekend going out to bars in the "new" bars in Tuscaloosa, and get that old college feeling back. You busy this weekend?
Get a crew together and bum-rush the Booth. Bring the old ways back for a night, whether the cops like it or not. You'll have to bring your own beer and such, but hey.
This is a good idea and you should totally do it.
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