FINALLY got the printer/scanner/fax/thing working correctly with the computer. Ugh. What a nightmare that has been. I still can't fax directly off disc from a document, which SUCKS. I think Lance is going to see if he has any magic he can work on it tomorrow.
I've decided that tomorrow's church is going to be a facilitated discussion .. rather than a discourse. For several reasons. First, I don't know what the HECK I'm going to say, and second, .. see reason #1. So, I'm going to zip through some of my texts, highlight some sections that are relevant, and then go have at it.
I'm only expecting four or five people tomorrow anyway..
I have a friend coming over in about an hour, so I need to make some dinner. I should run the vacuum, also.
Tomorrow, after church, I need to focus on knocking out some stuff that I've been putting off because I haven't been able to print/compute for nearly two weeks!
DJHJD
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Friday, September 10, 2004
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
So. I went to see "Hair" tonight at TUTS.
As one could expect from the most successful company producing Broadway musicals in the country, it was pretty. In fact, as we trouped into the theater, I thought and said "good set!" It was great.
The last time I saw a production of Hair, it was put on at my own Country Playhouse here in Houston. It was just over three years ago, and it was the first time it was produced on a large stage in Houston for many years.
TUTS' performance of Hair had everything going for it in terms of a musical performance - a complete, professional "orchestra," dazzling light display, a HUGE cast, everyone radio miked, beautiful costumes..
It is a show about the soul of a nation, performed in this instance without soul.
At a time when the country is again embroiled in pointless conflict, when politics polarizes the nation to the point of open hostility, when the government seemingly can't be trusted, when our very values as a nation are being questioned - what better time to field a soulful delivery of "Hair?"
We got the over-performed, "hey-look-at-me," no cohesiveness, staged without sense of soul, without sense of what makes an audience fall in love with the hippies, and breaks their hearts at the end of the show.
We got the show filled with young performers who have no heart, cannot connect with heartbreak, with rage, with fear for their lives, with futility, with creating a veneer of acceptance and love that sustains them in the face of a world they have rejected.
We get a Claude who is a magnificent technician in terms of his musical delivery, who cannot convey his angst, his bravado, his confusion, his hopelessness. We get a Burger who is just loud and obnoxious, rather than charming and filled with love while he taunts us, and teases our very belief structures. We get a cast of people who have no relationships with each other, save for their blocking.
The Country Playhouse production of Hair was staffed entirely by amateurs. Oh, yes, to be sure, everyone got paid. The actors received a stipend which did not cover the cost of fuel to drive to and from rehearsals. The director/choreographer and the musical director, working with budgets that wouldn't dress the cast of TUTS' production, got paid an embarassing sum for the creative and financial wizardry that they displayed. And the cast .. the cast, who received ten dollars for their performances, were ALIVE. They were the Vietnam era. They were the youth who knew that what was happening was wrong, and was reprehensible, and felt the only power that they had was to create a riotous, non-violent rebellion. They LOVED each other. They KNEW each other's back story. The BELIEVED in what they were doing together.
Claude started the show sitting, dead center of the stage. Just staring at the audience from behind mirrored sunglasses. For a half hour. With no prelude, he began to sing the opening words to the song in a clear, true voice. He began to rise, challenging the audience in the opening moments of the show with his message and his tone. At the moment that the chorus began, the cast EXPLODED into the theater. The harmonies were perfect, and unassisted electronically. Pitches were true, timbres rich and delicious, and the voices filled with the excitement of youth challenging existing structure with new ideas. The show moved fluidly from number to number, the story developed by the passion of each actor, and the clarity of their vocals.
TUTS cannot hope for that energy rippling through the nervous systems of their audiences. Their cast made no effort to connect with the audience. Even their in-audience interactions had the disconnect of rehearsed behavior.
EVERY number ripped into the consciousness of the audience (in the Country Playhouse version.) With just four instruments, the band created an authentic rock concert that perfectly supported the music. Number after number tore through the audience, taking them from laughter to outrage to reflection to revulsion to examination and back again. Even though they skipped the famous nude sequence, they took on buring of the flag, group love making, interracial relationships, drug use ..
TUTS did the nude scene. Yep. They sure did. In blue light. Well, they were probably nude. I think.
The show ends with Claude going into the Army, and then dying in Vietnam. TUTS whipped this concept over and over, making it the focus of Claude's hallucination sequence, and then making it the central piece of the closing number. Claude was shot, blown up, shot again, shot some more, got up, talked to the angels, shot a few more times, machine gunned, blown up again, and then shot. A few more times. The Valentine's Day massacre wasn't as violent. During the [should have been moving] closing number "Let the Sunshine In," Claude's uniformed body lies center stage, which the cast sings to the audience. TWO of the performers looked like they were trying to convey sadness. TWO. The rest were as exuberant as the cast of
Camp performing Grease.
At the moment of the show that TUTS should have been ripping the hearts of its audience out, I was wondering just where it was I had parked the car.
Okay, I didn't want to say this, but here it goes. If the cast of TUTS' "Hair" had put as much energy and authenticity into their performances as they had into their bows, maybe they would have had something.
Maybe.
Maybe if they had had the sense to hire Chris Ayres and Claudia Dyle, they would have had something.
Three and a half years ago, I came out at intermission on opening night of Hair at the Country Playhouse, and asked Claudia Dyle to marry me. I was nearly speechless, the show was so good. When Brandon Peters performed the hallucination sequence, I was captivated. When the cast each brought Brandon (Claude) a flower or a hug or a look as he entered the Army induction office in his uniform, I thought my heart would burst. Moments later, the cast members carried a casket out onto the stage, with an American flag draped over it. They BLED the song "Sunshine." My heart bled with them, and the tears streamed down my face.
THAT is what theater is about, folks. It's about MOVING people. It's about making them THINK and FEEL and INVOLVE themselves in the story you're telling from the stage. It's NOT about holding your arms just so, or having the best makeup, or the prettiest costumes, or the most dazzling set.
So, to the actors, producers and board members of TUTS - if you want to know what HAIR was supposed to be, talk to someone who saw it out at the run down, underfunded Country Playhouse. Everett Evans can wax euphorically about your show, but it doesn't mean SQUAT, because we in the theater know the truth. The actors in the Country Playhouse out-sang, out-danced, out-acted, out-emoted and out-did you, and they didn't get paid dirt. They all worked full-time jobs during the day to support themselves, and slogged through seven weeks of unpaid rehearsals. The musical director SHAMED you, TUTS, she worked with people who just WANTED to be in that show. She had less than an hour each night with them, and she made you look like you were a bunch of prima dons and donnas who can't control their own clutching grab at the spotlight to work with their fellow cast to produce the musical harmonies that make the songs from HAIR part of our culture forty years later. The director/choreographer/designer/producer had NO support, except for his unpaid stage manager and unpaid tech people, and he created an environment that brought out the nuances of HAIR, and so enhanced the story and energy that the audiences were brought to the brink of what their emotional systems could stand.
For $19 a seat, the audiences of the Country Playhouse got nearly 250 minutes of raw energy, emotion, grace, harmony, music, rebellion, humor, repugnance and thought.
For $77.25 a seat, TUTS owes its audience a life altering experience. Not a video.
To Chris, Claudia, Brandon, Scott, Johanna, Greg, Erin, Richard and everyone else that made HAIR at CPH something that still brings me chills .. thank you for being what real performers ARE, for your passion, commitment and energy.
As one could expect from the most successful company producing Broadway musicals in the country, it was pretty. In fact, as we trouped into the theater, I thought and said "good set!" It was great.
The last time I saw a production of Hair, it was put on at my own Country Playhouse here in Houston. It was just over three years ago, and it was the first time it was produced on a large stage in Houston for many years.
TUTS' performance of Hair had everything going for it in terms of a musical performance - a complete, professional "orchestra," dazzling light display, a HUGE cast, everyone radio miked, beautiful costumes..
It is a show about the soul of a nation, performed in this instance without soul.
At a time when the country is again embroiled in pointless conflict, when politics polarizes the nation to the point of open hostility, when the government seemingly can't be trusted, when our very values as a nation are being questioned - what better time to field a soulful delivery of "Hair?"
We got the over-performed, "hey-look-at-me," no cohesiveness, staged without sense of soul, without sense of what makes an audience fall in love with the hippies, and breaks their hearts at the end of the show.
We got the show filled with young performers who have no heart, cannot connect with heartbreak, with rage, with fear for their lives, with futility, with creating a veneer of acceptance and love that sustains them in the face of a world they have rejected.
We get a Claude who is a magnificent technician in terms of his musical delivery, who cannot convey his angst, his bravado, his confusion, his hopelessness. We get a Burger who is just loud and obnoxious, rather than charming and filled with love while he taunts us, and teases our very belief structures. We get a cast of people who have no relationships with each other, save for their blocking.
The Country Playhouse production of Hair was staffed entirely by amateurs. Oh, yes, to be sure, everyone got paid. The actors received a stipend which did not cover the cost of fuel to drive to and from rehearsals. The director/choreographer and the musical director, working with budgets that wouldn't dress the cast of TUTS' production, got paid an embarassing sum for the creative and financial wizardry that they displayed. And the cast .. the cast, who received ten dollars for their performances, were ALIVE. They were the Vietnam era. They were the youth who knew that what was happening was wrong, and was reprehensible, and felt the only power that they had was to create a riotous, non-violent rebellion. They LOVED each other. They KNEW each other's back story. The BELIEVED in what they were doing together.
Claude started the show sitting, dead center of the stage. Just staring at the audience from behind mirrored sunglasses. For a half hour. With no prelude, he began to sing the opening words to the song in a clear, true voice. He began to rise, challenging the audience in the opening moments of the show with his message and his tone. At the moment that the chorus began, the cast EXPLODED into the theater. The harmonies were perfect, and unassisted electronically. Pitches were true, timbres rich and delicious, and the voices filled with the excitement of youth challenging existing structure with new ideas. The show moved fluidly from number to number, the story developed by the passion of each actor, and the clarity of their vocals.
TUTS cannot hope for that energy rippling through the nervous systems of their audiences. Their cast made no effort to connect with the audience. Even their in-audience interactions had the disconnect of rehearsed behavior.
EVERY number ripped into the consciousness of the audience (in the Country Playhouse version.) With just four instruments, the band created an authentic rock concert that perfectly supported the music. Number after number tore through the audience, taking them from laughter to outrage to reflection to revulsion to examination and back again. Even though they skipped the famous nude sequence, they took on buring of the flag, group love making, interracial relationships, drug use ..
TUTS did the nude scene. Yep. They sure did. In blue light. Well, they were probably nude. I think.
The show ends with Claude going into the Army, and then dying in Vietnam. TUTS whipped this concept over and over, making it the focus of Claude's hallucination sequence, and then making it the central piece of the closing number. Claude was shot, blown up, shot again, shot some more, got up, talked to the angels, shot a few more times, machine gunned, blown up again, and then shot. A few more times. The Valentine's Day massacre wasn't as violent. During the [should have been moving] closing number "Let the Sunshine In," Claude's uniformed body lies center stage, which the cast sings to the audience. TWO of the performers looked like they were trying to convey sadness. TWO. The rest were as exuberant as the cast of
Camp performing Grease.
At the moment of the show that TUTS should have been ripping the hearts of its audience out, I was wondering just where it was I had parked the car.
Okay, I didn't want to say this, but here it goes. If the cast of TUTS' "Hair" had put as much energy and authenticity into their performances as they had into their bows, maybe they would have had something.
Maybe.
Maybe if they had had the sense to hire Chris Ayres and Claudia Dyle, they would have had something.
Three and a half years ago, I came out at intermission on opening night of Hair at the Country Playhouse, and asked Claudia Dyle to marry me. I was nearly speechless, the show was so good. When Brandon Peters performed the hallucination sequence, I was captivated. When the cast each brought Brandon (Claude) a flower or a hug or a look as he entered the Army induction office in his uniform, I thought my heart would burst. Moments later, the cast members carried a casket out onto the stage, with an American flag draped over it. They BLED the song "Sunshine." My heart bled with them, and the tears streamed down my face.
THAT is what theater is about, folks. It's about MOVING people. It's about making them THINK and FEEL and INVOLVE themselves in the story you're telling from the stage. It's NOT about holding your arms just so, or having the best makeup, or the prettiest costumes, or the most dazzling set.
So, to the actors, producers and board members of TUTS - if you want to know what HAIR was supposed to be, talk to someone who saw it out at the run down, underfunded Country Playhouse. Everett Evans can wax euphorically about your show, but it doesn't mean SQUAT, because we in the theater know the truth. The actors in the Country Playhouse out-sang, out-danced, out-acted, out-emoted and out-did you, and they didn't get paid dirt. They all worked full-time jobs during the day to support themselves, and slogged through seven weeks of unpaid rehearsals. The musical director SHAMED you, TUTS, she worked with people who just WANTED to be in that show. She had less than an hour each night with them, and she made you look like you were a bunch of prima dons and donnas who can't control their own clutching grab at the spotlight to work with their fellow cast to produce the musical harmonies that make the songs from HAIR part of our culture forty years later. The director/choreographer/designer/producer had NO support, except for his unpaid stage manager and unpaid tech people, and he created an environment that brought out the nuances of HAIR, and so enhanced the story and energy that the audiences were brought to the brink of what their emotional systems could stand.
For $19 a seat, the audiences of the Country Playhouse got nearly 250 minutes of raw energy, emotion, grace, harmony, music, rebellion, humor, repugnance and thought.
For $77.25 a seat, TUTS owes its audience a life altering experience. Not a video.
To Chris, Claudia, Brandon, Scott, Johanna, Greg, Erin, Richard and everyone else that made HAIR at CPH something that still brings me chills .. thank you for being what real performers ARE, for your passion, commitment and energy.
FINALLY funded. Still waiting for funding myself so that I can do lots of important things like .. well, you know the drill.
Going tonight to see "Hair" at TUTS .. with William, Guy and Nicole, plus who knows who else.
I hope it's as good as Country Playhouse's version was a few years back.
I was up until 3:00 this morning searching for leather goods online for Fabulair. Now, I'm wiped out, and I have to make dinner for at least three tonight. PLEH!
I found a cute graphic that I just slapped into my blog. And, I spent four HOURS working on my drdivo.com website last night. Hopefully, I can get that deployed sometime here in the next few days.
Okay, it may be time for a nap. I'm exhausted.
Going tonight to see "Hair" at TUTS .. with William, Guy and Nicole, plus who knows who else.
I hope it's as good as Country Playhouse's version was a few years back.
I was up until 3:00 this morning searching for leather goods online for Fabulair. Now, I'm wiped out, and I have to make dinner for at least three tonight. PLEH!
I found a cute graphic that I just slapped into my blog. And, I spent four HOURS working on my drdivo.com website last night. Hopefully, I can get that deployed sometime here in the next few days.
Okay, it may be time for a nap. I'm exhausted.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Monday morning that's actually Tuesday. I have my LSAT student coming in 25 minutes, and then I have work to crank out. I've already done a bit of house cleaning, and this afternoon, I have documents I have to prepare.
For some reason, I decided to post two pictures of Luiz, the Brazilian on my blog. There he is!
The Colt model replied to my email note, and he was NOT very happy. In fact, he was downright nasty. Of course, as Lance pointed out - he did never either apologize nor thank me for what I did do for him last week.
Okay, tutoring time.
For some reason, I decided to post two pictures of Luiz, the Brazilian on my blog. There he is!
The Colt model replied to my email note, and he was NOT very happy. In fact, he was downright nasty. Of course, as Lance pointed out - he did never either apologize nor thank me for what I did do for him last week.
Okay, tutoring time.
Monday, September 06, 2004
This is from the email I just sent to the Colt model today:
What I said earlier wasn't being entirely truthful. Yes, it is true that I have a lot going on this week, and I need to be able to focus to make it all happen.
However, what's really true is that I just don't want to help you out again.
I've let many dancers stay with me over the years; some I have allowed to come back time and time again, others, I prefer not to have back in my home.
Those that I invite back have been courteous, have been appreciative, have chatted with me a bit, gone out to eat, been sociable.
I have never opened my home to someone just because he has invested the effort to build up his body and his looks. I don't expect sex, flattery or someone I can show off to my friends. Neither I am, nor they are, that shallow.
However, I cannot justify the disruption to my regular schedule for someone who expects to be fed, watered, cleaned up after and laundered for who exhibits no signs of appreciation for me or my courtesies. In the absence of such appreciation, my courtesies are expected by the person I'm helping, and that would require that both you and I value your physical commitment to your body over my commitment to my business, career, home and spirituality.
I am not willing to make that concession. I refuse to worship at the altar of beauty to the exclusion of my own dignity.
I'm sure things will work out for you, and I wish you the best.
What I said earlier wasn't being entirely truthful. Yes, it is true that I have a lot going on this week, and I need to be able to focus to make it all happen.
However, what's really true is that I just don't want to help you out again.
I've let many dancers stay with me over the years; some I have allowed to come back time and time again, others, I prefer not to have back in my home.
Those that I invite back have been courteous, have been appreciative, have chatted with me a bit, gone out to eat, been sociable.
I have never opened my home to someone just because he has invested the effort to build up his body and his looks. I don't expect sex, flattery or someone I can show off to my friends. Neither I am, nor they are, that shallow.
However, I cannot justify the disruption to my regular schedule for someone who expects to be fed, watered, cleaned up after and laundered for who exhibits no signs of appreciation for me or my courtesies. In the absence of such appreciation, my courtesies are expected by the person I'm helping, and that would require that both you and I value your physical commitment to your body over my commitment to my business, career, home and spirituality.
I am not willing to make that concession. I refuse to worship at the altar of beauty to the exclusion of my own dignity.
I'm sure things will work out for you, and I wish you the best.
A letter to the editor of the Houston Chronicle...
Let's just see if they print it.
I was shocked at the rock-star treatment that the Chronicle gave the recent Republican National Convention. Coverage of the Democratic convention was neither as laudatory, nor as comprehensive.
The Republican party, of late, has become the party of obfuscation and deception - white is black, day is night, right is wrong. Anyone who dare raise a question is "unpatriotic." Anyone who disagrees is an enemy. Their vitriol has enflamed an audience who now makes it physically unsafe to hold opposing ideas.
US citizens who wear an anti-Bush t-shirt or who hold up an anti-Bush sign are now routinely arrested and harassed by the police, and yet the Chronicle, part of the "liberal media," says nothing. In Crawford, protestors are arrested by the busload just for being present in the area, not for violating any statute or ordinance, and the "liberal" Chronicle says nothing.
The 9/11 Commission is funded to the extent of $600,000 to investigate the greatest governmental and defense failure in the history of our Nation, and the "liberal" Chronicle fails to point out that more than fifty times that amount of money was used to investigate President Clinton's White House sexual activities.
Yet, the Chronicle and the "liberal media" continue to paint the Republicans as fiscal conservatives, moving the country toward a more responsible way of living. "Liberals," what few are left, are described as intellectually flawed, radical lunatics who desire to require that people be taxed at ridiculous rates. That the statements the "liberals" are accused of making are demonstrably false is never brought up by the Chronicle and the rest of the "liberal media."
Traditional American values of Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Assembly, Freedom of Association are routinely trampled .. and you say nothing.
What's next? Is the Chronicle readying its participation in the "Ministry of Truth?" Is there no one at the largest newspaper never to win a Pulitzer prize who has any independence and courage?
Perhaps, the Chronicle could write a story about the news media in this Country being owned and controlled by a small group of fabulously wealthy, multi-national corporations, who have no self-serving interest in disturbing the public with the truth about what is happening, only in perpetuating economic benefits for their corporate officers and stockholders? That is what has happened to the "liberal media" in this country since Watergate.
If a Watergate were to occur today, it would barely gain a footnote, unless it were a Democrat who were the actor.
The Chronicle, and the rest of the corporate media, have rendered themselves irrelevant by their partisanship. As more and more people realize the futility of gaining any information from the Chronicle, readership will further decline and these corporate media sources, in their very effort to enhance their profitability, will end this line of business that has nurtured and cultivated society for hundreds of years.
Let's just see if they print it.
I was shocked at the rock-star treatment that the Chronicle gave the recent Republican National Convention. Coverage of the Democratic convention was neither as laudatory, nor as comprehensive.
The Republican party, of late, has become the party of obfuscation and deception - white is black, day is night, right is wrong. Anyone who dare raise a question is "unpatriotic." Anyone who disagrees is an enemy. Their vitriol has enflamed an audience who now makes it physically unsafe to hold opposing ideas.
US citizens who wear an anti-Bush t-shirt or who hold up an anti-Bush sign are now routinely arrested and harassed by the police, and yet the Chronicle, part of the "liberal media," says nothing. In Crawford, protestors are arrested by the busload just for being present in the area, not for violating any statute or ordinance, and the "liberal" Chronicle says nothing.
The 9/11 Commission is funded to the extent of $600,000 to investigate the greatest governmental and defense failure in the history of our Nation, and the "liberal" Chronicle fails to point out that more than fifty times that amount of money was used to investigate President Clinton's White House sexual activities.
Yet, the Chronicle and the "liberal media" continue to paint the Republicans as fiscal conservatives, moving the country toward a more responsible way of living. "Liberals," what few are left, are described as intellectually flawed, radical lunatics who desire to require that people be taxed at ridiculous rates. That the statements the "liberals" are accused of making are demonstrably false is never brought up by the Chronicle and the rest of the "liberal media."
Traditional American values of Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Assembly, Freedom of Association are routinely trampled .. and you say nothing.
What's next? Is the Chronicle readying its participation in the "Ministry of Truth?" Is there no one at the largest newspaper never to win a Pulitzer prize who has any independence and courage?
Perhaps, the Chronicle could write a story about the news media in this Country being owned and controlled by a small group of fabulously wealthy, multi-national corporations, who have no self-serving interest in disturbing the public with the truth about what is happening, only in perpetuating economic benefits for their corporate officers and stockholders? That is what has happened to the "liberal media" in this country since Watergate.
If a Watergate were to occur today, it would barely gain a footnote, unless it were a Democrat who were the actor.
The Chronicle, and the rest of the corporate media, have rendered themselves irrelevant by their partisanship. As more and more people realize the futility of gaining any information from the Chronicle, readership will further decline and these corporate media sources, in their very effort to enhance their profitability, will end this line of business that has nurtured and cultivated society for hundreds of years.
Ah, coffee ... it is the nectar of the Gods.
The peeler wants to come stay with me another week. WEEK. A week of me feeding him, being locked out of my bedroom (you can't imagine me letting him stay in the guest room with the computer, can you??) and cleaning up after him, with no social benefits? Uh, no.
My favorite waiter/architect person in the whole world wrote today from Tokyo (where he's interning) and send a link to a FABULOUS article about the huge shift in politics in America. Check it out here.
The peeler wants to come stay with me another week. WEEK. A week of me feeding him, being locked out of my bedroom (you can't imagine me letting him stay in the guest room with the computer, can you??) and cleaning up after him, with no social benefits? Uh, no.
My favorite waiter/architect person in the whole world wrote today from Tokyo (where he's interning) and send a link to a FABULOUS article about the huge shift in politics in America. Check it out here.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Had a great chat with Jean today after church. While she was doing the offering, I pulled an old Course in Miracles card out of my bag, which was unexpected since I haven't played with those in eleven years or so. It said "how you perceive others you are reinforcing in yourself."
Bleh. More work to do.
I have a blistering headache; day two of same. I've been doubling up on the sinus meds, and it hasn't helped.
Time for some nappage and to see if that (plus another couple antihistamines) makes a difference. Then, throw in some laundry, and I'm supposed to go hang out with Nicole.
Bleh. More work to do.
I have a blistering headache; day two of same. I've been doubling up on the sinus meds, and it hasn't helped.
Time for some nappage and to see if that (plus another couple antihistamines) makes a difference. Then, throw in some laundry, and I'm supposed to go hang out with Nicole.
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