Making Connections

Making Connections

Hey blog.

Long time no blog.

I used to use this space to talk about my creative projects and reflect on the processes involved; this was like four years ago. I was actively updating, and then I went through a really harsh break up and fell out of the habit. Since then I've written a few posts, and a lot  has happened to me personally and professionally.

Most recently, I made my Netflix debut.

Here I am in Friends From College.

Wait, that's actually not accurate, one of the films I have a bit part in, Crooked Arrows, was on Netflix for some time before the contract expired and they took it down. So I guess that was my Netflix debut. What came out this week was Friends from College, in which I have an even smaller bit part.  But people are actually watching this, unlike Crooked Arrows which, to be fair, was targeted towards 8-13 year old lacrosse players anyway.

Fun fact, one time I got a random piece of fan mail to my email from this guy who watched Crooked Arrows with his kids. It seemed very sincere, like clearly it meant something to his family and he was like "who is that guy who plays the announcer? He does a good job, I should let him know." And my email is connected to my IMDB page, so that's probably how he got it. It was still kinda weird.

Anyway, Friends From College is especially cool because I play literally myself.  Well I literally play the character I portrayed at the time at Jekyll and Hyde, where the scene is set and where I work in real life. And I mean, it doesn't take a lot to guess that it's because I work there in real life that I got the part in the TV show that happened to be shooting a scene there. It was a stroke of luck that I met the guy from the locations department who was scouting it, who got my info to casting, etc. Success in art really is a combination of luck and preparedness, all of my other acting roles in big things like this (I've had three now, total) were a similar combination of those factors.

And yeah, I'm really, really proud of it. And I'm really proud of the work I do at Jekyll and Hyde. There, I said it.  Actually I say it all the time in Facebook posts detailing the various interactions I have with kids while I’m working there. If you're reading this, chances are good you know me, so you do you know this: I'm a devout secular humanist and leftist and I try to imbue that into my work with people. I always have in all of my jobs as a performer, be it running a trivia night (which I did for a while), as a historical tour guide on a Segway or in colonial garb (both of which I've done) or most recently as a character in a haunted theme restaurant.

I try to relate to people on some real level, like I see them, and I understand what they’re going through. I just ask them questions, where are you from, what are you doing while you're in New York, that kind of stuff. And I try to make them laugh, at me, at themselves and at each other. My new favorite bit I do as my mad scientist character (in the show I'm a butler but now I play a mad scientist) is I walk out onto the floor of the restaurant, and just cackle like a mad scientist, you know "BWA-HA-HA-HA!" and then I stop and say "I don't know why I'm laughing, sometimes what can you do but laugh, am I right folks?" but in my deep, sort of growley Dr. Horrible voice.

Yes, my character's name is Dr. Horrible. No, I don't have a sing along blog. That's part of the joke. Dr. Horrible’s backstory: Joss Whedon met me during the writer's strike and based a movie on me, but instead of having me play myself, he hired Neil Patrick Harris, my super talented and handsome arch nemesis. I do that bit when people ask me about it. It's very silly.

But I really believe that as a life philosophy, "Sometimes what can you do but laugh?" I acknowledge that in my case it comes from a place of economic and societal privilege. Like if I was homeless or truly hungry or desperate, I might notlaugh. But when something hurts, be it heartbreak or rejection (which, come to think of it, are the main forms of pain I experience) I try to remember it. And when people come to the restaurant, I try to share that with them, and just do whatever I can to make them laugh.

With the kids I do a little more. I very deliberately interact with them, almost to the point of interviewing them. I ask them their name, how old they are, I ask how them how that's going. Like, "Oh Suzy, so you're eleven. How's that going? Do you like being eleven?" Sometimes they say "yeah it's great". Other times they’re having a hard time, usually if they’re a few years older.  They'll admit it’s not great, and  I'llsay "Yeah I know, I totally feelz you dawg," again in my mad scientist voice. It's silly, I know, but I actually do. And I want them to feel seen by me at least, like the clown sees you, and wants to know what yourinterests are, what do you like in school, what are you doing this summer you're excited about, how are you really, that sort of thing.

I base a lot of my approach on an article I read a long time ago about how to talk to little girls. It suggests, instead of emphasizing their appearance, that we get to know them and appreciate their personality, what their interests and aspirations are, that sort of thing. Then, whatever they like, I'll try to engage with them about it. If they like math I'll do multiplication with them, or tell them how algebra is actually an Arabic word meaning "to bring into balance". If they like science I'll find out what they know or have learned and try to elaborate on it as best as I can, as the son of science teachers. There was a really sweet moment I had with a little girl this week. She was like 11, and when I asked her what her favorite subject was, she said writing. I asked her, what do you write? She said stories. And I said, oh, so you write stories? And she was like, yeah but just in school. And I said but still, that means you write your own stories. And she said, yeah I do write my own stories! With a note of brightness in her voice, like she might not have realized that was something she did, and could do.

Will that little girl grow up to be a writer? I'll never know, maybe not. But hopefully I gave her a sense of agency. I only remember that interaction because it happened this week. I've talked, at this point, to hundreds if not thousands of children, and had similar interactions. Other times it's less overtly inspiring, sometimes it's just something short or silly, or easy or difficult. I'm always trying for moments like that.

So it felt appropriate that at the same time as that bit of my Jekyll and Hyde character came out, I discovered this poem: Ode to the Women on Long Island, by Olivia Gatwood.

As a poem, I do have some mixed feelings about it. I feel like the author is speaking to a specifically white, middle class experience. But if that's her experience, she should speak to it. And as a feminist, when I come across art that speaks to the experience of women, where so much media is about men and masculinity in ways both direct and indirect, I really try to listen. And listening in this case, I realized I've met many of these women. And just like with their children, I try to relate to them as well, as much as I'm ultimately able to.

I talk a lot in my stand up, and in my life, about being a feminist. And as much as I might joke about it, and I try to remain mildly and appropriately self deprecating as a straight white cis male, I'm really not fucking around. The condition of women and girls is deteriorating globally before our very eyes (in spite of the progress we made in the 20th century), and it's up to all of us to stop it, to do whatever we can.

This video from the Population Reference Bureau does a good job of breaking down the statistics.

For me, it's telling jokes.

Identifying Identity/Putting On My Podcast Hat

Getting back into the swing of blogging, here we go!

I think two factors have contributed to the drop off in how much I've been writing this past year, well three if you count Shakes and Co. But the first is, ironically I guess, Facebook. Someone I know posed the question over Facebook "do you consider Facebook status updates and tweets to be their own form of writing?" Which got me thinking why of course they are. Usually when I go to write a status update, which is at least once a day probably, I'm trying to think of how to phrase it in the pithiest, punchiest or most insightful way possible in as few words as it can be expressed. When I consider my own identity and the ways which I define myself, actor and musician come to mind, in that order but I've always struggled with allowing "writer" or at another time in my life "poet" into that equation. I think maybe it's because writers and poets are so frequently presented as caricatured figures, the idea of the pompous pseudo intellectual novelist or poet or whatever pops up a lot in popular culture to the extent that it's become a comedic archetype in our modern landscape of comedia dell arte types. And perhaps because of that representation I was always very hyper aware of being pompous or pretentious, and thought telling people "oh I'm a poet" or "oh I'm a writer" would somehow invoke that.

Additionally, I wonder if those same forces in culture make the act of creation in some sense problematic, I suppose combined with the proliferation of technology that made it very easy to print and share one's own work. Inevitably, this writer caricature tries to get the other characters in the world they inhabit to try and read their work and it's never any good and usually the butt of a joke.

Knowing what I do know, seeing this scene played out in film or television is pretty ironic because the people who make those things are writers themselves and no doubt would identify with that same caricature in the much the same way I am doing in this moment!

Where was I? This post was going to be about my podcast but it's become about identity. Also I feel a sense of vulnerability in telling people that I'm a creative person. This doesn't extend to my acting, which I've always felt very confident about for whatever reason or at least have learned to, but also it's much harder to "act" for someone in a coffee shop. It's much more feasible to say "I'm a writer, can I share some writing with you?" and then if they don't like it or it doesn't set them off or inspire some kind of praise in them, it feels like failing a little.

This feeds back into whatever need for approval loops I have that do whatever they do for me in making me create my art. And this all a big tangent to why I haven't been writing here so much!

Because Facebook makes for a very easy feedback and approval loop I find when it comes to creating things, specifically status updates. If I can write a really funny or affecting status update, people can "like" it or comment on it instantaneously and in the hours after I put something up I can see all the people who read it and liked it or whatever.

This requires much less effort and focus than writing a blog post and involves much more instant gratification!

Which is ironic because the other thing I've been pouring my energy into other than blogging has been my podcast, (The Mike Handelman Podcast, I keep trying to think of catchier names but then I've stuck with this one for this long) which takes hours of work or honestly however much work I feel like putting into it but if I'm motivated and able it can take hours and for all that probably the fewest people take the time to really give it a listen.

But that's assuming that the goal is page views or whatever, which it's not, it's to make things I'm proud of. At a certain point the snake starts swallowing it's own tail though, because you need to go from making things you like and would want to listen to into finding other people who like and want to listen to similar things and will do that enough that people will pay money to access those people such is the nature of entertainment and show business!

So I'm doing all this work with the mindset that someday I'll find a way or have an opportunity to bring this work to a larger audience and then on to some kind of sponsorship to at least make some pizza and beer money, which would be nice. And by continuing this work with dedication, every time I put out a new podcast, I'm making a slightly improved or more refined product.

Which has been the case! I've been at this for about a year now since my friend Jesse and I first got in a room with a microphone and we really have come a long way in our artistic partnership and in my skills as a producer and engineer, which is something to be excited about. I hope after you've finished this, maybe you'll check out the podcast. Even if it's not yet something you'd enjoy (it's hard for me to keep perspective on whether or not I even enjoy it, I listen to some so many times in editing them) someday soon it will evolve in a better version of the thing it already is, that you will want to listen to.

Making a Commitment

This weekend will mark the release of the 8th episode of my podcast, currently titled the Mike Handelman Podcast, although that may change soon... the title I mean. But hopefully not the dedication I've shown in producing it regularly! Even more regularly than I write this blog, and guess which takes a greater investment of time and energy? It's a rhetorical question, making a podcast is much harder. Yet rewarding! Even if they are averaging ten to twenty downloads a piece... which come to think of it, is how much traffic my blog posts receive on average... but for me, a big part of this experiment has been committing to an idea and sticking to it. The idea in this case being producing and regularly releasing a podcast, just like a professional person in the entertainment industry. Not that there are that many people making a living off their podcasts, in fact almost no one is doing that, but they are using them as a tool to promote themselves and their brand. The archetypal example being Marc Maron, who had worked as a respected although not particularly affluent stand up who helped kick off what's called the "alt comedy" movement, and stayed afloat in the entertainment industry throughout the 90s before joining with the ship that was Air America (an attempt at a liberal talk radio station) through it's various ups and downs and after being finally fired from it for the last time, started doing a podcast.

An example numerous comedians have followed, myself being one of them. When asked what young comedians started out should do, another well known podcaster (if you follow podcasts that is, which lots of people don't, yet) Doug Benson said "start a twitter account and then start a podcast" both of which are easy, free ways of self promotion and brand building (unless and until your podcast blows than you need to pay for hosting but that's another thing) and podcasting isn't as easy as it sounds! At least, not if you want to do it well, which is my ultimate goal.

And keeping sight of that goal has eased the transition from the end of Uncle Vanya to where I'm at now, which is focused on editing and releasing a new podcast every Sunday and listening for what myself and my partner Jesse can do better from week to week, a goal I've been accomplishing.

And thinking about it feels like a real accomplishment. I was reflecting on my past creative endeavors and I realized that I've put more focus, time and energy into this project than just about anything else I've ever started completely on my own. Sure I've put a lot of time into theatre and film things that I've been a part of over the years, but in all of those examples I've been in some way or another subservient to another person's master plan. But this is me, this is my thing, and so far it's success or failure has been dependent on my talent and dedication.

With that comes a degree of anxiety, I am collaborating with someone else and I can't take all the credit even if I am the "director" of the project (and the producer, and the editor, and the... you get the idea) and I'm trying to keep Jesse on board and motivated without being a pain in the ass. Which is a feeling I struggle with. In the few times I've taken on a "director" role, prior this point exclusively in theatre classes, it's something I've struggled with as well. The people I'm working with are volunteering their time and energy, and how do I manage that effectively and not be overbearing? If nothing else, this phase of my podcasting career will also serve as a record of how we got to know each other and have become better friends by working on this together and how do I manage that friendship aspect of the project? It would be easier in some ways to hire someone to do the podcast with me, but not nearly as satisfying or rewarding, and I can't easily think of anyone else I'd rather be working with from week to week. But there's that component, from week to week to week, I'm asking for a lot of time and so far he's been very gracious in giving it and I couldn't have gotten this far without him in the room lending his energy... I've tried it, and getting on the microphone by yourself is harder and a lot less fun than having someone to bounce energy off of. It's also a necessary skill I should learn someday, and I can think of some examples in the podcast field of people who do it very well.

Which brings to mind another source of anxiety, where am I going with this? When and how will I take it there? One step has been the establishment of a Facebook page for my podcast. A facebook page I actually established a while ago intending it as a means of promotion for my acting stuff and this blog, but I've been too bashful to share it with the world. No longer! That shits gone public! Likewise I've yet to move beyond the very small pond of Buzzsprout, the free service where I've been hosting my podcast and where no one is particularly likely to see it without first being linked to another, more professional and money costing service like Libsyn and then to the grand daddy of podcast directories... iTunes. Basically, I've been waiting until we could consistently deliver a product I felt comfortable sharing with strangers, which took us a while both from a technical stand point and a creative one but I feel like we've gotten there and my hope is when I get from the January intensive to start doing that. Assuming we can resume our present momentum, which I'm hopeful we can and even if it takes a little while I now have a nice back log of episodes to recycle.

So all in all, I feel good about the work I've been doing. I've found an outlet separate from my live performance, channeled my energy into it and taken visible steps towards developing it... all good things! Now, the next steps are to develop a live performance component that ties back to the podcast which I hope will be Jesse and I's comedy music which we can play out with first at open mics and then hopefully at real events in real venues. And of course, actually building an audience. All in good time! Time I look forward to.

Judging Your Own Work

...From an objective perspective is very difficult, or even trying to appreciate it from the subjective perspective of a potential audience member or consumer, "if I were stumbling upon this, how would I react?" and I think if you're goal is to create good work, as opposed to work that's explicitly commercial  (nothing wrong with that) the main question should be "is this something I would enjoy?"

But of course, you want other people to enjoy it too, and probably if you and your friends have a long list of convoluted inside jokes that have taken on various lives of their own inside and out of their original contexts hearing them parroted back and forth would be entertaining, it would sound like a conversation between you and your friends. Which is not an unworthy goal for something like a Podcast (that by the way is what I'm going to be talking about, get ready) to make something that sounds like an authentic and fun conversation between friends, because doing that is actually pretty difficult, especially doing it in such a way that would be compelling and entertaining to an outside listener.

I've been gradually realizing things like this throughout the process of editing down the recording session of July 22nd, going through various incarnations, finding what works, whittling things down, removing the pauses, adding background music, mixing, etc, etc and now listening to what I'm calling the finished product (while resisting the urge to go back and fix this bit of mixing or cut that piece of dead air I'd missed before) and trying to decide for my self "is this good?" Well yeah actually, for a first attempt ever at this medium, I'd say it's pretty good but then "really how good is it?" my id asks my ego or whatever model we use for the voices in our heads that doubt.

(Side note, I actually spoke to my Mom about it, and even though she's my Mom so of course she did she said she liked it, and specifically the bits I'm going to get into in a moment of a more philosophical nature. This actually made me happier than she probably realized, because I believe that if you can make something which appeals to 60 something baby boomers and people in your peer group, or any wide audience like that, you are really truly doing something right.)

Something I didn't do which is my goal in future recording sessions was to respond from a completely earnest, thoughtful and honest place (as myself, basically). Something that I tend to do in improv/comedy stuff is make a game of tossing curveballs at my partner, which is something I did a lot during our recording session. Like if someone is doing something to enhance the atmosphere of the scene, or has allowed a changed in their character or given circumstances based on a failed communication (like if you, my theoretical scene partner, or I establish one thing, say we're partners in a detective agency but then one of us changes it to make us siblings which doesn't break the scene but inexplicably changes it pointing that out or whatever) or even when something like that hasn't happened, just to see how the other person reacts.

As audience members, we get served that a lot in our contemporary "absurdist" comedy in the vein of Tim & Eric or much of the current Adult Swim programming block, and it's a perfectly valid aesthetic which is much easier to pull off than something like Louie which is completely dependent on the strength of Louis C.K's actual point of view on things as refracted through a semi realist depiction of his world and real life. Doing absurdist comedy well sounds easy but is difficult, depictions of life and adding to them the lens or angle of a specific comedic viewpoint sounds difficult but is actually nigh impossible.

And then again, at this moment I'm focusing on film and television, which is what I'm working on, I'm working on a podcast. In that respect, let's say two analogues entities to the Tim and Eric/Louis paradigm might be Comedy Bang Bang and WTF with Marc Maron, two extremely popular very different podcasts. Comedy Bang Bang sets it self as an interview show, and then becomes absurd (and is one of my primary inspirations for the model I'm trying to work out) and WTF is actually an interview show, which oftentimes becomes as much about it's host and his weird and compellingly specific world view as it does about the person he's interviewing. In the case of Comedy Bang Bang it works because usually all involved are world class improvisors who've been doing it in various forms for years and years, and have had a while to develop the specific voice of their show and Marc Maron is an incredibly compelling interviewer and for that other stuff he draws on 20 plus years of life as a stand up comedian and more than that as a thoughtful but doubting human being. Really, you should just go listen to them to see what I'm talking about.

Anyway, in response to those two archetypes, tons and tons of imitators have inevitably sprung up. One of my favorites from the WTF mold is You Made it Weird with Pete Holmes, which has much of the same structure as WTF where Holmes talks to a guest about his or her career in show business or whatever but often spirals off into very heady discussions about sex or religion or whatever.

I'd like to think that where my goal had been to do something purely resembling Comedy Bang Bang with just lots of comedy bits and improvised sketch type things (which are present in the pilot) we added up going into a lot of You Made it Weird-esque territory, and I actually kind of like that, but doubt my own ability to consistently make something like that work.

But at the same time, what am I gaining by doubting myself? I've only done one of these, and it developed organically and in the process of my editing it into this particular thing, next time will probably be something different and the time after that. And the reason why I'm trying this out is to scratch that creative itch to be making my own stuff that I've blogged about, and to just start learning how to do this thing. Certainly none of the podcast people I admire were doing their shows at the level they do them over night, no one does that, it takes time and practice and dedication. Well, right now I've got some time, so let's see how long I can keep this dedication going and where it takes me.

Thinkin' Bout Actin (Like a Lady!) or; "Are You a Transvestite in Real Life?"

Edit: I feel I should preface this post with a note on how difficult it actually kind of was to write. I try not to be over indulgent in my own appraisals of my work, generally speaking, so I don't forget to keep trying to get better or lose sight of all the things I need to improve on. But for the purposes of this role and this post, allow me to be self indulgent.

I realize that in all my blogging about my movement class, which I felt the need to get down on blog while the experience was still fresh in my mind and on going, step by step... that I have savagely neglected blogging about our performances of Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are Dead and my discoveries with Alfred! I know, it's appalling.

Let's see, as of tonight we're seven performances into our run, with five in English and two and a half in Spanish (one of them was cancelled part way through) with tonight being probably our biggest crowd and maybe my best performance. I've been getting great responses the whole way through to my portrayal of Alfred, lots of people saying "oh you were my favorite" but of course there's always an aspect of hyperbole to someone saying that (or so I make myself believe to keep my ego in check), several little kids asking for autographs, and someone asking me tonight "Are you a transvestite in real life?" sort of half seriously, half joking, in the kind of way that "of course I'm not a transvestite" but if I had been it would be like "yeah ok".

Is there any way to say this in a way that I'm more comfortable saying it? No, there isn't, so I'll just say it. I am fucking killing it as Alfred. This role plays perfectly into my persona as a comedian... goofy, physical, kind of dark and weird and highly but also ambiguously sexual in a way that works which Stoppard doesn't anticipate but compliments the debauched nature of this universe. But also caring at moments, like what my Mom singled out when I connect with Ophelia after Hamlet has so violently and viscously attacked and rejected her. He tells her to go and be a prostitute, well I am sort of a prostitute and hey, wait a minute Hamlet, what did you just do! And then oh, poor thing... but of course I'm powerless to help her, on so many levels. Existentially and literally, in that moment, how could I this weirdo bisexual actor/whore possibly relate or connect to this young woman from a level of society I perform for but have no way of understanding. And then of course, we're in the world of Hamlet so she's inherently doomed to lose her father and her lover and than drown herself.

All of which evolved from my experience of the moment as our director staged it (who deserves much praise for so flat out brilliantly staging the play such that I could kill it on the level I'm killing it) where the Player King and I's dumb show make out session is interrupted by Hamlet assaulting and admonishing Ophelia and leaving her there, before we take her in, and slowly creep of stage in one of many laugh out loud moments in the play.

The point being, I've discovered a lot of depth to Alfred's character which Stoppard explicitly did not intend to be there from how he's written in the script, which is of course as a weak young child actor who's forced by circumstance to serve as the company's female playing tragedian (as would have been the case in Shakespeare's time) and also the company cabin boy and sexual bargaining chip. Yeah, it's some dark shit. And in the name of that curbing some of that darkness to make it a lighter, more family friendly show, we toned down those aspects, the exchanges where Alfred is most explicitly offered a sexual object, etc, but kept the man in the dress goofiness. Everything I'm doing in this alternate version is extremely well balanced by the feminine strength which is also kind of masculine and a little ambiguous (just like me, but inverted) of the woman doing The Player(s), Sarah and Paola (guess which one does it in English and the other in Spanish?). My mother commented on the effect having women in the role that it makes the advances of the Player which are typically pretty creepy as played by an older man (as is sort of the standard interpretation of The Player) into actually kind of appealing, and went so far as to call them deity like in their power and presence. Definitely, as I've been killing it, so have them and everybody else in the cast, Ros and Guild, the Hamlet ensemble, our ensemble ensemble and of course my fellow Tragedians.

But more about how awesome I am, which is to say how much fun I've been having (because trying your best is what really makes you awesome, amIright kids?). I really love playing comedy, and I'm especially enjoying playing it over such a long run of performances (Seven down, five more to) is that no matter what there's something new to be found every single night. I think this is true even more so than drama, for me at least, in some ways... How do I put this? As Tuzenbach, who had some pretty goofy moments as well, of course I was constantly focused on rediscovering each individual emotional beat for every performance. And come to think of it, the same was true for Nick in Swimming in the Shallows (which the work that I did on maybe prepared more than any other previous role for Alfred) who was also though even more explicitly comedic, but balanced by comedic moments...

I think what I'm trying to describe is in part due to the nature of Alfred and his role in the overall show, in that it's like jazz, with Alfred I'm always trying to find ways to play the silences... find the harmony of my other actors, their rhythms, so I can syncopate with my own comedy and make existing moments funnier when I can or when there's an appropriate bit of empty space fill it with something and try to make it of that space or silence every single night. Riffs, variations on phrases, all through expression and physicality and little interactions, ya dig?

It's equally true that with drama or comedy I'm trying to play each moment as spontaneously and truthfully as possible for that night, night after night. But the kind of playing I get to do with Alfred is just so my jam. Not that I didn't love playing Tuzenbach or Nick, because both of them had so much beautiful text... and maybe that's what I find so freeing about Alfred, that it's just physical and it's with that in mind which I took on a role smaller in that sense than what I'd played in my last few shows because I knew it would be a chance to explore that. And it's with the same mindset that I entered Yo-el's class, such that physicality has been a big theme in my work this summer, which I feel fantastic about.

But yeah, it's that quality of reacting more than being the driving force (which any role is a balance of the two) that I respond to in Alfred, because being able to do that with my specific brand of comedy has also been one of my favorite parts to get to play. And this is possibly the most successfully laugh out loud funny work I've done in the whole of my acting career. Oh yeah, and that all comes from finding a  discovery in every individual moment and once I've discovered them bringing them back and honing them. Variations on riffs, like I was saying. The dumb show sequence is especially rife with these opportunities to find those riffs. Like the moment with Hamlet and Ophelia. I got a great laugh tonight from how I found to play my specific aghast reaction to Hamlet's treatment as Ophelia as he storms off. If you saw me across multiple performances, you'd probably see me playing a similar bit night after night, but tonight I really nailed it. And tomorrow night will be different, even if I do nail it again, it wont' be quite in the same way. But I also know that tomorrow will bring on a new set of discoveries, and the night after that, and so on.

Until the end of the run. And that is the beautiful, tragic nature of theater, isn't it? Unlike with film... you get to do it again! And again! And again! And then it stops. It becomes photos, maybe a video that of course never can represent the magic of the real thing, and oh so many memories. Here's to making more of those with the time I have left with this wonderful group, actors, stage managers, audiences, everybody.