See Bill, the Thespian: Top Left. This picture is ridiculous, as he is holding a man-purse. But this story needs telling, so let me be:
For the last couple of weeks, Mr. Bill has been a co-star in a local San Antonio theatrical production entitled Marrying Terry. I have yet to see the play, but I expect to enjoy it. He is a moderately good actor. When I was younger, he was the lead in a famous play called Our Town (a local production), in which he played a lawyer - go figure. But seeing your own Dad on the stage is kind of a trip - because he somewhat takes on the roll of someone else. My immediate thought is, 'Who is this guy?'
Once on a BOY SCOUT trip to ALASKA, we stopped in with our group at a local production house to see a small-musical at a theatre in SKAGWAY. By the way, Alaska kicks an incredible amount of ass. Pristine and somewhat still untouched. It's one of the last places where you can drive on the road and see three grizzly bears getting their grub on.
Anywho, Bill was called up on stage to be a participant. I was weirded out, and proceeded to put on my aviator shadiators. After the production, one of the actresses came up to me and said: "You know it's rude to wear shades inside a theatre while a production is going on." I apologized, but all I could think of was how sorry I wasn't sorry, because it's just weird watching someone be someone else, even if for a hot minute. So moral of the story, wear your shades whenever and wherever you want. Do what you want to do.
I am going to see the play this Saturday. Apparently Bill plays somewhat of a jerk in the production. Maybe I'll post a review of it another time. But most likely I won't - - because I am too busy trying to find awesome tunes like this one: BAM.
Mr Big Stuff (Matty Blades Mashup) by MattyBlades
This post reminds me of a similar story I have from high school.
ReplyDeleteOne of the hippie english teachers in at my high school invented this holiday called "Dylan Day", where, once a year, a bunch of people would sing versions of Bob Dylan songs in the Library, and in the Audotorium at lunch. I saw through it right a way for what it was, an excuse for an english teacher to make a couple extra bucks selling rich kids t-shirts, and then let him and his cronies enjoy a relaxing day of listening to hippy tunes. (I'd like to point out here that Dylan has said he didn't really buy into all the stuff he sang about, he just wanted to sell records. Ha!)
Anyways, on "Dylan Day", my english teacher herded us to the Library to listen to some Dylan songs. They had it all set up like a coffee shop kind of, and I figured ok I guess I can relax and read some of the New York times. I am at school to learn after all. The English Teacher who put the who thing together got all butt hurt, and stopped mid-production to single me out and tell me to stop reading the paper, "respect the production."
So I put down the paper and suffered through high schoolers trying to play songs they didn't know. I kind of wish I had just gotten up and walked outside.
That situation still pisses me off to this day.
And I still hate "Dylan Day"
Gnomvemberfest is a much better holiday.