It Finally Happened

I'm slightly mad.

I'm back, baby!!!

Over the past couple months my zest for improv has slowly oozed from my backside, making its way out onto the sidewalk left in a concrete wake for my future.
I thought it was over. I felt lost on stage and in rehearsal. I've felt more nervous than usual. I was sure I would rebound and become my own improvy self again, but I was also sure that I would spend my adult life with Amy Campbell and she never came around. Could this be it? Did I just borrow all this money from my family for an improv business that's gonna flop before we book our first show? Did I just buy a van I can't afford on my nearly nil income? Well, the answer to most of those questions is NO. Yes, I did spend too much on my van, but I rarely spoil myself.
So, I am back. I did a two person show with De Bebe tonight at The Playground as part of a new series called The Deuce. The coolest people in the world came out to support our first ever Chicago show together (portions of my new incubator troupe, an old friend from Austin, De Bebe's rock music partner and one of her new Chi. friends, all equally cool for supporting.) The show kicked ass. We only had about 25 minutes but they felt pretty solid from my point of view. Of course, I was just on stage having a great time but everyone seemed responsive afterwards. De Bebe followed my lead and I followed hers at times. We didn't do scenes like most dating duos, the stuff didn't have any inside jokes or anything stupid like that. There was a lot of positivity and energy, things my recent improv life has been lacking. I moved more than I usually do because I felt overmatched by De Bebe's manic energy. My faith in my own skills as well as the skills of de bebe have been reiterated and just in time for Del Close Marathon this weekend.
My show at the DCM may the most important show of my career. It will be my first show in New York in front of several of my peers and colleagues; my first exposure to "that scene" (new york) It's possible that people with a good deal of power will be in the audience and I now feel like I can do a good show for the whole entirety of those in attendance. I will again only have around 30 minutes to do my shtick, but that should be enough and hopefully it will force me to keep my pace up. The DCM is humungoginourmous this year. There's shows and workshops going on simultaneously at different venues almost all weekend long at all hours of the night and day. I can't wait to take in more improv than I ever thought I could, taking stock of each players skills, discarding them as obsolete or building them up as idols. Thinking to myself what I would have said or done in their stead, moaning too loud when a huge denial happens, or wincing in pain at another post-modern reference to the "in corwd" of improvisers. That's something I fear this weekend actually. That the audiences will just merely be a cadre of improvisers just as here in Chicago only whereing slightly different faces; all there just to amuse each other doing the same formless or overly formatted format; while everyone laughs about some crap I've never even heard of or understand. Then I get up there and everything I say brings out the crickets. Then I panic and start to lash out making fun of other improvisers who have gone before me and mocking the incestuous crowd with biting remarks about their hairdos and teeth; This is my nightmare.

I'm pretty sure it won't come down like that, but then again Amy Campbell has never even called me. NOT ONCE. 


That's me in the middle and that's Amy on the right. That's Kyle Vos on the left. He moved to Belgium in 8th grade and came back in high school later with a mohawk, all punked out. She fell for him and they've been married ever since. Me, I've had that very look on my face ever since I heard that. You don't even want to know about that sculpture. We had to make it for "Butte Day" at my elementary school.

 
IMPROV, YOU ARE MINE AGAIN ! ! !

Never leave me again, or I'll find you and I will kill you. Slowly. In your sleep. With a space-object butcher's knife.

hehe,
b