I AM GONNA MAKE IT

Dreamt of going to school. Elementary School. I went to Strawberry Park Elementary in San Jose, California, long ago and about twenty minutes from the sea. In the dream, it was that school, but looked more Ivy League, less weird 1970s style. When I got to the school, there was confusion as to which classroom I was to go to. One was overcrowded, even though the room was very big. I went to that class first. The teacher was nice but struggling to keep control. He told me he thought I was supposed to go to the classroom next door. So I went there. That room was a little bigger than a broom closet, and was empty.

For some reason, that woke me up. Lisa was asleep. Padfoot was asleep. Just me and the room and that dim light from the windows and electronics that fills a room in the middle of the night.

So. I am still wrapping my head around the fact that there is a virus that has spread across the entire planet, infecting over half a million people and killing so many. Even now, it doesn't seem real. It all feels like a dream. Sometimes, when I am having a particularly bad dream, I will realize that it is indeed a dream, and I will wake myself up. No such luck with this one so far. And the peak has happened yet. I mean, how are we supposed to wrap our heads around estimates like 100,000 to 2000,000 dead just here in America? Large numbers are hard enough to contemplate in happy times.

I think our brains are all processing and changing, adapting to this new reality. How it will change is anybody's guess. Cuomo the other day said some will become better people, some worse. That's probably true. I'm fairly certain our appreciation of the little things by and large will increase dramatically. Also, I think the way we treat each other and the planet will change. The need for universal health care is pretty apparent, and gets more so each day. So does the wonder of nature, which is moving along with no care, shaking off a bit of our mess and showing her glory more and more. Every day, the sky is cleaner, and it seems like there are more birds in our neighborhood. Maybe we just hear them more because the traffic is so much lighter. I don't know. But I like a cleaner planet.

Yesterday, for the first time since this all kicked in, I did a good bit a yard work, mowing both our lawn and the neighbors. Took a few hours, but felt great. Working on the new script, it was nice to have something like that to do, so that my subconscious could kick around ideas without me telling it what to do. And, of course, ideas came. For me, writing is best when I let my subconscious come up with the fun stuff. It's like that idea bubble they make you do in writing classes, or at least the classes I took. You get a blank piece of paper, write down and idea, and then make a bubble around it, and then just let your mind go where it wants, and write down other ideas that somehow relate to the first idea. Free association. Improv. Being in the moment. It is something artists always strive to do, find a way to follow structure and at the same time be in the moment.

I think that's what we are all trying to do now. I come across friends doing their best to deny the moment. To fill their day yelling at the tv, or posting every couple of minutes about how it's a Deep State conspiracy. Or how good their ratings are. There are even some who are still trying to tell toilet paper hoarding jokes. Not too many, though. That, I think, has finally jumped the shark. And while all those things are of course valid things to do, sometimes I get the vibe that some of those folks are not being true to themselves.

No doubt, I am not true to myself all the time either.

No movie to promote today. We watched an Amazon original called The Pale Horse, one of their new Agatha Christie adaptations, and it was great, but I fell asleep early on. Maybe the lawn mowing tired me out. Maybe the whole global pandemic did. Hard to say. I did do a zoom meeting with a bunch of local writers, and that was amazing. We all vented about things, or talked about what we are working on, or what we want to do, and decided that the meeting itself was a great idea and plan to do one each week. For me, writing isn't a problem, even now. What I want to write about has changed, but the act of writing itself helps me. Hence, this blog.

Ok. Time to wrap this one up, then it's off to go shopping for a few essentials. And later today, I do my first bit of teaching/rehearsals. Should be interesting. Will I have a class full and wild, or an empty broom closet?

Here's a song.

BEAUTY AND TERROR

The dreams all ran off this morning. Jumped over the moon while looking for the dish and spoon. And I woke up extra early for no reason. Well, I did go to sleep a little earlier than usual. But only a little. I always feel a bit robbed when I can't remember my dreams. Like a message from my spirit guides got lost in the mail or something. Sometimes, as I wake, I can feel them fading, can remember them for just a moment, and then they're gone. As if they had substance and were physically taken from me. I wonder if there is a cabin out there somewhere, full of forgotten dreams. A country sized cabin, a world, full of me flying and being in old places that aren't really those old places but an amalgamation of other places that only make sense in the dream world.

We watched JoJo Rabbit last night. I've been wanting to see that since I first saw a trailer for it at the Alamo Draft House (my favorite movie theatre). I blew me away. So funny and original and exciting and sad and tragic. That's the kind of film I would like to make. Sort of a farcical magic realism period fable from a modern perspective that's both intelligent and heartfelt. And so damn funny. I think it's streaming now, so if you can, watch it. Fables of courage in times of madness seem like a good idea right now. And it has a fantastic quote in it which I think applies to us all more than ever.

“Let everything happen to you
Beauty and terror
Just keep going
No feeling is final”

― Rainer Maria Rilke

Speaking of which, it's almost the end of the month. Bills are coming due. Energy, water, phone, internet, cable, credit cards, and mortgage. What are we going to do? I know, the stimulus. And yes, that's a good thing and I'm glad it passed, though I'm not sure yet what all it means other than that one time check. I hear artists might be able to apply for grants. And that there are small business loans at zero rate. I hear lots of things. But what will actually happen? How hard will it be to get these things? What will we all do at the end of next month? I think I heard that we will be in isolation until at least the end of April now. So much for the Easter uprising. I think, as this grinds along, we are going to have to rethink our economic system. Completely.

I remember, shortly after 9/11, standing on the balcony of a friends apartment in NYC, talking about the world, what had just happened, what to expect, and so on. This was right after, when you could still smell the electrical fires from downtown and there were army dudes in the subway stations and it felt for a brief moment like wartime. My girlfriend had just gotten a radical masectomy and was in chemo, and had caught pneumonia after that day of the attacks, being young starving artists we had no insurance, and things looked a bit bleak. My friend conjectured that the world would either go in one of two directions: towards the anarchic dystopia of movies like The Road Warrior, or towards the Utopian world of Star Trek. I think about that conversation a lot these days. I vote for the Star Trek world. We can start by doing the Andrew Yang thing of guaranteed income paired with the Warren/Bernie thing of universal healthcare. Seems like a huge portion of the world would be better off, happier, and healthier- and this would trickle up, down, and all around. I'm sure there would still be problems- Klingons, Tribbles, and such- but we would all be better equipped to deal with them.

So. Another Monday. Only it's not like Monday used to be. Not going back to the grind Monday, no sleeping in Monday, no it's-a-whole-week-until-the-week-end Monday. It's just a day that starts with the Sun rising, the dog needing to be let out, and a world that seems cleaner of late quietly spinning.

Time to explore the inner soul a bit, tend to our garden, and write my story.

Here's a song. It is a bit of a spoiler if you haven't seen JoJo Rabbit. So watch the movie first!

70 SCENES KNOCKING

Woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe 3 or 4. Not sure. Someone was ringing the doorbell, over and over, and it woke me up.  I could see that our motion detector light had gone on for the front porch. The ringing had stopped when I awoke. Whomever was doing the ringing had done so every couple of seconds. I stood there, wondering who it was... a drunk kid? The police? Death? Took me a while, then I remembered we don't have a doorbell.

Dreams last night were a jumble. A room full of spiders. Theatre students asking for help with a scene or monologue. Theatre teachers looking for work, and all of us moving into a tiny apartment for the foreseeable future. There were other dreams, but they vanished like the morning fog, burnt off by the sun.

Last night we watched the movie Ladybird. So good. I'm trying to watch as many coming of age movies because I am working on a coming of age type story. I figure I should watch/read as many of those types of story as I can, see what other folks have done, how they approached it. In Ladybird, scenes are very compact. We are given the essence of each incident, and move on. It was a revelation to me. I have a list of little scenes I want in my movie. I keep note of them in this Bigfoot pocket journal I was given. I get a lot of things related to Sasquatch, have most of my life. I like cryptozoology, my first feature script was about Bigfoot and mythical beasts, and my theatre company is Sasquatch Productions. They all feed the myth of me and Bigfoot. There is even, on that list, a scene where as a boy I watch a documentary about Bigfoot. But I digress. The point is, I have a list of scenes, moments from my life from 1975-1977. I want the list to have at least 70 moments. This is because I read a thing by David Lynch once saying when you are preparing to write a movie, get a bunch of note cards, and write on each one an idea for a scene for your movie. When you have 70, you are good to go. So I'm giving it a try. It seemed, watching Ladybird, that maybe this is what Greta Gerwig did. I read that at one point her screenplay was over 350 pages. Amazing. She must have cut so many bits, so many moments.

Later, we were doing our now daily meditation, and I had a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning right when good old Deepak was giving us the days mantra. A simple thought, true, but it seemed super important at the time. All stories are about love, or the lack thereof. Love of the world, or each other, or that certain someone, or one's art. Or no love, angry and sad people doing angry sad things, all the result of no love. I think might look at each scene in my script and see how that principle applies. Maybe it will make it amazing. Or terrible. We shall see. As soon as the meditation was over, I reached for my notebook and began writing as fast as I could.

Today's agenda: Writing; Walking; Cleaning; Reading; Going Over Stimulus Plan; Games with Ryan and Lauren via Zoom; Movie. Who knows what else. So go find the love in your world.

Here's a song.

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

Dreamt last night about work. One of the places I work at is Reel Kids, a place where we teach TV/Film & Theatre. It's mostly after school classes and week-end sessions, as well as summer camps. A lot of the kids are part of different troupes, and it's a big part of their lives. In the dream, we were meeting at a park as part of the new reality. Kids were gathering, and class was about to start, and a parent was dropping off his kid. He was really angry, and venting to another teacher that we had changed our schedule and even cancelled some classes due to the virus. I tried to speak to him, but no matter what I said, his anger only grew. It was one of those dream conversations that seem to go on and on and on. Finally I woke up.

I've been interacting with lots of folks online. As no doubt we all have. Most people are doing what they can. And most people are freaking out. Some complain about the dreaded toilet paper hoarders. Some talk politics. I had one guy this morning sounding the alarms and saying the US was becoming the same as Nazi Germany (no lie) because NYC was saying you can't have large amounts of people in a church. I have vented clouds and clouds of steam about my anger at the current administrations lack of action in a time of crisis. At home, Lisa and I can argue about pretty much anything, and have a couple of times. None of this is shocking, I think. We are in Bizzaro Universe, only not a funny one like in the comic books or Seinfeld. This is a world with terrifying statistics and images on our screens, an army of fear phantoms marching through our collected unconscious, and a constant sense that nobody quite knows how to stop it.

I'm going to try and do less shouting, more listening. When I do speak, I'm going to try to be more positive. Stop arguing about what might happen, and instead respond to what is happening. Easter seems like a million years from now. Right now, I think packed churches is a mistake, and urge everyone to not do that. In the future, who knows. I don't live in the future. I may sound like a cheesy self help book, or that friend who is into wind chimes and ointments and Rumi and Tai Chi. So be it. I need to exit the Panic Room and enter the yoga studio.

I'm not saying I won't lose it, freak out, yell at the tv, PRINT IN ALL CAPS WHEN I'M UPSET, respond to my few Trump following friends with vitriol and bile. I'm sure I will. I'm just going to try and be better about it. (yes, I purposefully used the "be better") Now, today, I'm going to go over the stimulus bill and the new unemployment rules and try to figure out what can be done, so this kinder, gentler Kelly may last only an hour or so. But that's an hour of peace.

Things that have helped: Connecting with friends and family both through email, and even good old phone calls. Those are the best. I called a cousin I hadn't spoken to in years yesterday, and we talked for almost an hour. It was awesome. Meditating. I mentioned before we are doing this Deepak Chopra thing, and it is really calming, energizing, and easy.  Takes all of fifteen minutes. Walking. We get up early and walk for almost an hour, keeping social distancing. We connect with the world, the neighborhood, kids playing, nature. Games via Zoom, Skype, and facetime with friend and family has quickly become a thing in our house, and it rocks. And of course reading all the books I've been meaing to read, finishing all those streaming shows I paused halfway through, and so on. Oh, and podcasts. If you haven't gotten into them yet, this might be the time.

Well, I was going to go on about how the world economy will have to change, how the environment seems to be doing better when we leave it alone, and yada yada yada. But time has run out for today.

More tomorrow. Here's a song.

A CANDY COLORED CLOWN

There's a candy colored clown they call the Sandman.

Two dreams last night, and a lot of tossing and turning. That's what I get for watching the news right before bed. I hadn't in a couple of days, but thought I should. And I'm glad I did. But wow, things are really getting nuts.

So, first dream. A Stephen King type thing. I was a writer, in this small town. Everyone was sort of quirky. And something happened on everyone's computer that took them over. The mayor of the town was in on it. And a group of middle school Salem witch trial re-enacters. It was all leading to a show down with the big bad in a quarry outside of the town. Then I woke up. My dog Padfoot looked at me like he knew I had had a bad dream.

Second dream, another theatre dream. This time, I was directing a version of Hairspray at the Barn Theatre in Michigan. It was n outdoor production with a huge cast, and we were rehearsing the big number "You Can't Stop the Beat", right there on the road. The actual Barn Theatre is on this highway outside of Kalamazoo. It's where I got my Actor's Equity Card long ago. In the dream, the theatre was smack dab in the middle of a typical suburb. The cast was huge. As we ran the number, cars drove by. The kids were exuberant, and the number fantastic. I woke up again after that dream. Padfoot was looking over with approval. Lisa was asleep, and seemed to be having a dream as well.

Morpheus is mighty busy these days.

So, on the news, good old Rachel Maddow, who I like to watch more than any other news analyst because she's smart and compassionate and funny and truly seems to care and not be serving some dark corporate agenda, was filling us in with what is happening, how states are bidding against each other and the federal government for supplies, ventilators, and so on. This drives up the cost. Makes things sit in stockpiles as the bidding wars go on, which loses us precious time. It seems like the Federal system, under our current leadership, is unwilling or unable to take this thing by the reins and do its job. Why? It seems like this will lead to needless suffering and death. If things keep up like this, and people start to die in great numbers, will the system hold? Are we at that point from the beginning of the tv adaptation of The Stand, where a freaked out Ed Harris quotes Yeats?

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

I think not. But sometimes, it feels like it. And that keeps me up at night.

What to do, besides get into yet another social media argument? Call you local elected officials. Call your reps. Call your senators. Call the White House. Social Distance. Be alive. Love unconditionally. Rise up, as Hamilton told us to do.

I once wrote a stage version of the Deathly Hallows for young people, and added a funeral for Dobby, with Luna giving a little speech- I know, not in the book. But here is what she said we need to do when things get tough:

LUNA

We go on, Harry. We have to. We could spend all our time
being sad, I suppose. We’ve all seen enough sad days to do that. But I think we need to try and make the sad days stop. To try and find happy times. Times full of love, and hope, and peace. Don’t you?

Ok. Sort of a long one today. Such is life. Here's a song.

CAPTAIN AMERICA CALLING

I dreamt I was Captain American last night. I was in NYC, and it was the NYC from when I lived there in the 1990s, but also NYC right now. Mostly in Manhattan. I got my shield in this building over in midtown, then went to an open call audition at this theatre complex that was sort of like ATA,  but  it had a little cafe. A bunch of actor friends, plus students I have had, were waiting to audition, while a few others we getting ready to go to class at a conservatory. I had reservations about the conservatory, and needed to check it out. Then I walked around town, looking for clues, ran into the Hulk, and got woken up by my dog, who of late has the habit of walking around our room at 4 in the morning.

I've always liked Captain America. Once of the first images that really stuck with me was the cover of a storyline where Cap was dead, and tied to a chimney on a New York rooftop. This was in the early 1970s, at the height of Viet Nam, Watergate, and the whole generation gap thing. It struck a chord when I saw it. I was at the local 7-11, where I went for slurpees and comic books, and there it was. I stared at it for a bit, and thought "that about sums it up".



Where is Captain America now? Do we all need to take up the mantle? It seems like some people are. Doctors and workers at stores, friends and families. Sadly, not at the White House. I think it odd that the leader of our country is so un-inspiring and divisive. Is he more like Chamberlin at the start of World War Two, or Johnson during the Viet Nam, Nixon whenever, or the Red Skull?

There is this twitter feed, called President Supervillain, that might answer that question. Go HERE to see it.

So, yesterday we took a very long walk, our meditation, a 6 minute work out from this article Lisa found on the NYTimes,  made breakfast for our neighbors who are older, in the middle of a move, and in need of some help. When I say we, I mean my wife. I carry things to the neighbors, and if needed act as chef's helper when I can. I read a long chapter in McKee, all about genre and structure,  did a load of laundry, worked on a few online teaching projects (mostly getting set up or trying to figure out how to set up, cleaned the house, read far too many stories on the stimulus bill (which seems more of a distraction than anything else and I think has taken our collective eye of the ball on things like more hospitals, ventilators, masks, etc.), and I can't even remember what else.

Isn't is strange how time has plasticized? Some days are eternal, others flash by at the speed of light.

Well, I think that's all. I do want to say I think it is just beginning, that there seems to be this false sense running around that we have hit the nadir with the shut downs, like this is the worst it will get, being cooped up. But I don't think that is the case. People we love getting sick and dying, grappling with a society that was ill prepared for this, an economy in the tank and massive unemployment, and who knows what else- those are things to come.

But still I have hope. Things have been worse in the history of the world, and will probably be worse again in the future. We just have to do the best we can.

Here is a song that seemed appropriate for today's entry.

ALTERNATE REALITY

Dreamed last night I was hanging out with President Trump. Well, not hanging out. I was at the White House for some nebulous reason, in that dream logic kind of way. It felt like when you were a kid, and your parents visited other parents, and they went off to do parent things, and you were left in the other parents house with the other parent's kid. The White House was really empty, just a few staff members in the background. Trump was like this lonely outcast kind of kid, awkward, not good with his words. He told me he needed help in communicating. Wanted to know how I was able to talk to people, to connect to the world. Then he ordered a fancy sandwich for himself, and let me order something for myself as well.

It was a peaceful kind of dream. And the president looked different. Not so angry, not so orange, not so bloated. Maybe it was an alternate reality? I often think that dreams are portals to parallel universes, worlds where there are other versions of us. Somehow, when we dream, we are allowed to travel between the worlds. I wonder if other versions of me visit this world in their dreams. What would they make of this?

Yesterday I watched too much news. The only thing I watch when I can that I like is Cuomo's daily address. That guy has the X factor for leadership in a crisis. No baloney, connects to the audience, and gives information that is useful. I usually feel better after watching one of his conferences. When I watch the White House task force, which I don't do that often, I usually feel confused, lost, and more afraid. They say that people who grew up in alcoholic households are the best lie detectors. They also say that people from the theatre are excellent at sniffing out the bull. Being both, I must be great at it. In any event, I always feel like I am being sold a bill of goods by Trump & Co. And then there's poor little Fausty. He seems like the prisoner, the one who will help the heroes with vital information when they get to act three of this strange movie.

Also yesterday, we drove to a few stores to get some things for ourselves and a friend who isn't doing well. I could not believe how clear the sky was. The Rocky Mountains stretched out forever, crisp and clear and inspiring. I wonder, when this is done, what we will do about the world, about the environment. It is such a lovely planet.  Is this whole thing the result of Mother Earth saying "enough!"?


Last night, we had dinner at a neighbor's front yard, all seated at least 6 feet from each other, in a sort of Council of Elrond setting. Nobody got up to say "One does not simply walk into Mordor", though it would have been cool if they did. There were five of us total. It was a warm, early spring evening, the sky bright blue, and the conversation awesome. I think already we are all starved for connecting with each other. Not that I mind exploring myself and my soul. I don't. I love it. But I also love people. Being near one another. Something to look forward to and to savor more after the Duration.

Then we went home and tried to watch an episode of The Great British Baking Show, but fell asleep before the technical challenge. That is a show I highly recommend. Everyone is so nice to each other in it, the food looks amazing, and it gives me faith in humanity.

Well, on to today.  Here's a song. Note on the song- first off, I don't endorse being in a room that full of people until after the Duration. Second, it is full of youthful lust and energy. Don't let it get you down because you can't go to a club at the moment. Third, do you think there is an alternate reality where Debbie Harry is President of the United States?

MEDITATION, ANOTHER WEIRD DREAM, LINES, AND A SICK FRIEND

Another theatre dream last night. This time, we were getting ready to perform Annie. This is a show I was about to open last week end at one of the schools I work at. But the show was being performed at the main stage theatre of San Jose State, where I went to college lo these many years ago. The kids were excited and running around, house was about to open, when I noticed a bunch of sand on the stage. I looked around, and upstage, behind the scenery, was this huge diorama of of beach of some sort, and. this classic old professor who was working on it. I asked him what the hell he was doing. He told me, due to budget concerns, that he was told to do his work there. Then my tech director/choreographer and I began sweeping up the sand, and we got ready for the show to begin.

So, yesterday we started meditating to this audio thing by Deepak Chopra that a friend sent to us. Takes about 15 minutes, and then there is a little task to do. The task was to write down at least 50 people who have inspired and/or mentored me, alive or dead, someone I knew or an artist or whatever whose work had an impact on me. And that was a great list to make. I have had so many wonderful people in my life, and the world is full of inspiring teachers and artists. And the meditation itself was peaceful, grounding, and a welcome break from all the news that is assaulting us on a minute by minute basis. I think there is going to be more and more people going on spiritual journeys of one type or another as we sit in our homes, not able to do the daily grind.

Here in Denver, we are now on a shut in, don't go out, nobody move, put your hands in the air as you enter Funky Town kind of thing. So we went out to get a new land line phone, and get Lisa some wine before the liquor stores close. The line for the booze was out the door and around the block. I wonder how many jokes there will be about that, like there were about toilet paper. I suspect little to none. Making fun of toilet paper is just so easy. I mean, you get to say the word toilet. I personally don't care about people hoarding toilet paper. I do worry about all these people who think they're being rebels by hanging out in large groups on beaches and at parties,  thinking that by doing so they are sticking it to the man. I get the desire to hang out, and the need to stick it to something these days- but come on. There have got to be better ways to do that besides exposing themselves and everyone they come into contact with to a virus that seems hell bent on taking out a good chunk of the world's population.

Today, we are going to work on the garden, work out, take a long walk while maintaining social distance, do what work we can from home, read to each other, clean out yet another closet, and try to maintain our sanity. And I will write a bit, and make a video with my dog.

Also, I think one of my best friends in this world might have it. That's what his doctor's think. He seems to be ok. We play Dungeons and Dragons via zoom, and played last night. I am hoping it is just a really bad flu, like what that weird orange guy says it is. As much as I can't stand our dear leader, I would be just fine if his bizarre predictions came true. My friend is healthy in general, and I am certain he will get through this. But holy shit. So, if you are getting funky with meditation or religion or tarot cards or Jesus or whatever floats your spiritual boat, put a candle in the window and think good thoughts.

Ok. Here is a song. More later.

IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME

Another weird theatre dream last night. I was in an immersive show, some sort of slapsticky comedy like Kaufman & Hart meets Neil Simon, set in a suburban home. In between acts, my character, the cranky father of the house, ties up some burglar, so that the second act opens with mayhem. As we are doing the show, in the intermission, we realize we don't have the right rope for the bit, and start to panic. The lights come up, or rather the act begins as we let the audience walk into the room of the house that this act takes place in, and improv. Wing it, as they say. Make shit up. And somehow, it goes ok, the audience loves it, and we all know the show will live another day. After the performance, I walk to my agent's office. In this dream, I have an agent, and he lives in a city that is a mix of Denver and NYC, and he is former Denver Post theatre critic John Moore. I go there because I have decided it is high time I got more work out in Hollywood. More for my writing than my acting, but in the dream those two aspects of my career are as blended as Denver and NYC. When I get to the office, I realize it is up to me, and no one else, what happens. So I hop a bus and head home.

So.

It's Monday. Todays events include cleaning out a closet, another round of Dungeons and Dragons- which we started playing yesterday and was so fun. I had forgotten just how much fun it was to play. I had a game that went on most of my high school years, and what I had forgotten was how much it forces you to interact, to make stuff up, to imagine. And to laugh. A lot. Going to read more books again today. Did that yesterday, and it was so relaxing and inspiring and invigorating. I read a short story and a chapter of McKee's Story. Not reading something on my phone or computer was much more relaxing as I didn't have those little pop up notifications telling me to break my concentration and look at yet another headline about what the President said or how many more people are sick or whatever else. For me, being able to go to another world with no distractions while awake is vital. It gives me super powers. So more reading. Also, have to talk with folks up in Superior about how to figure out things for classes and our production of School of Rock. Or course, all up in the air, but must be done. There are possibilities. Yesterday, I did a large Zoom chat with the cast of Sweeney Todd from StageDoor up in Conifer. We were set to open in a few weeks, but had to postpone. We all talked for an hour, and it was needed. Human connection is always possible, and it feels like, at least for me, we are figuring out how to do that in our quasi-social-distancing-world. After the chat, we decided we should all re-enact scenes from the show at home with our pets and post them. So keep an eye out for me and Padfoot, my one of a kind dog, doing a scene from Sweeney Tood soon. Also plan on doing some Deepak Chopra thing a friend sent us. Why not? Seems like if ever there was a time for meditation, it's now.

In fact, it seems like there are lots of things that "if ever there was a time" covers. Calling old friends. Finishing that book. Writing that script. Singing that song. Tending to your garden. So often, we pretend we are immortal and have all the time in the world. And no doubt, after the Duration, we will go back to some of that. But not me. Not now.

Ok, must go decide if Padfoot or I will be Mrs. Lovett. Or Lisa.

WHEN THINGS ARE WORST

Had a weird dream last night. Was at the Denver Center, where I work as a teacher in my so-called real life, you know, that time back before we went through the dimensional door that brought us here, to a land of social distancing, constant checking of numbers both worldwide and in the US, empty streets and overfull parks, wondering about bills and shopping and surgical masks and ventilators. Anyway. In the dream, I was in one area, working on my playwriting class or something like it, and upstairs, there was a rehearsal going on for two musicals going up in tandem, called "Matilda and Matilda times three", which was both the sequel and part three of the musical Matilda. I figure this was somehow connected to the fact that a few months ago, which seems like an eternity now, my company Sasquatch Productions put up an amazing Matilda at the PACE down in Parker, directed by my business partner and friend August. The sequels seemed to be going well. Most of the cast from the show in Parker were in it. And we had the same stage manager, Lara. She came down to my are to tell me things were going well. My class was over, so I bid all the budding playwrights good night, and went upstairs to say hello to the cast. Everyone was having fun, working hard, worried about certain scenes and songs. The usual fare in a musical. And that's what seemed weird in the dream. Everything was like before.

So, today, I'm going to try and actively figure out how to move forward with all the shows I was in rehearsals for. Annie, Sweeney Todd, and School of Rock. Not that anything will be like before. But theatre is what I do. That and teach. And write. No pandemic can change that basic fact. It can change show dates, how we do it, where I teach, and what I write about- but I am still I.

Also, last night Lisa and I played an online version of Ticket to Ride with Ryan and Lauren out in NYC. It was awesome. We all had the game on our tablets and/or laptops, and had set up a factime. I highly recommend this for people far away you can't get to but would like to hang out with.

Today, I get to do a Zoom chat with the cast and creative team of Sweeney. Double boom and hurrah.

And I have already amassed many pages of notes and am starting an outline for new screenplay.

So yeah.

I think things are going to get bad for awhile. Numbers are spiking. Hospitals are filling up. People we know are going to get sick. We will most likely get sick.

But we have to remember. We are we. As the alien said in Starman, we are at our very best when things are worst. Let's make that so.

JUST DROPPED IN

Made the mistake of watching the news right before going to sleep last night. Strange dreams, full of foreboding, and woke up at 5am, sure something really bad had just gone down.

Which is probably true. We are in a pandemic, the numbers are spiking, and our current President seems unable to do anything other than say "everything's great! We go this, don't you worry." I mean, did you watch that press conference yesterday? I think asking what he would say to a frightened American was kind of an easy question. But he freaked out. Why? What is up with this guy?

On other news, I've decided to start work on a new screenplay, pretty much straight up autobiography kind of thing, coming of age and all that. It just feels like the right story for me to tell at this time and place. Maybe by tonight, I'll think that's nuts. But that's where I am today. And as far as writing goes, I do what I think I should, unless being paid large sums of money by some studio.

I am also seriously thinking about filming myself reading my journal from high school. Working title: I Was a Teen-Age Born-Again.  Used to do it at parties for laughs, because I was sooooo full of myself back then. Still am, of course. I mean, I post a blog daily during a freakin' pandemic.

What else? Mind scattered this morning. Got up late, making coffee now, just let the dog out. My dog Padfoot. He's a bit of a nut, but most awesome. Great thing about dogs, they always have their priorities straight. Eat. Sleep. Love. Play. I am getting to his way of thinking.

And Kenny Rogers died. Maybe I should look up one of the Gambler movies and watch it in his honor. And for sure, The Big Lebowski. The dream sequence song is by him, which always surprised me. We've been watching lots of stuff. As has most folks, I think. We turn to the arts. I am also making my way through BoJack Horseman, finally. It's smart, funny, and also a bit sad.

Also, last night while cleaning up after dinner, I came upon a livestream home concert by Toby Lightman. She used to tend bar at Bryant Park Grill when I was a waiter there. I used to always call out to her light Sweeney Todd "Toby, where are you?", and she'd smile kindly and then make d drinks I needed. She went on to have a career in music. It was so beautiful to just clean up and listen to this heartfelt lovely music streaming live. You can go HERE to follow her on Facebook.

Ok. Gotta go in a sec. Taking our daily morning walk, while we still can. Priorities, people. Priorities. For the Duration.

THE DURATION

Waiting for the cabin fever. The worms. The Man. Godot.

Not really, though. Set up a sort of schedule yesterday, and that was great. Cleaned house. Worked on script. Played a game called Hunt a Killer. Got set for a campaign of D & D. Watched Schitt's Creek. Watched it Snow.

It snowed here yesterday. Several inches. I've always felt snow is magic, that it portends to good things. Sometimes, I think it is a sign from my old mentor Taft Miller. I remember, in the spring of 1993 I think, there were floods all over the country. Huge floods. And Taft talked about how Mother Nature can only be contained for so long. That levee's break, hurricanes and earthquakes are part of the deal. We can't control everything. Much as we'd like to. Makes me think of my favorite quote from The Lord of the Rings, which I remember being on posters after 9/11.

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” 

That's pretty straight up accurate.

Speaking of these times. As I was working on the script yesterday, I came to a scene that involved a line of people at Costco, waiting for free samples. Remember those? I wonder if they will come back, or if that will go the way of the DoDo? It was always a chance for grown women and men to cut in line, hover like vultures for scraps of food they most likely didn't need and often didn't even like all that much, and behave badly. Not that samples was a bad idea in and of itself. Having some nice person say "here, try this, you might like it" is quite nice. But there were times, on a busy week end day at Costco, where people would go a little nuts, mashed around the hot sausage or pizza tots or whatever.

So, not sure if scene will stay or not. The plan for the moment is to finish the script- episode two of a ten episode limited series. I want to finish at least three episodes. Maybe, after the Duration, I'll have something to sell. Lord knows I'll need the money. No work sucks. And not knowing when I will work again, or how bills will be paid, sucks even more.

But enough. Things suck all over. Just have to decide what to do with the time I've been given. Things suck, yes. Things have been bad before, and will be bad again. But things will also get better. Victories will come. Joy will arrive. This too shall pass. We will get through the Duration.

That's what I'm calling this time period. The Duration. A rough patch that will require ingenuity and courage and determination. I think it's what they called World War II while it was going on. The Duration. 

BIRDS AND DRAGONS

Yesterday was pretty good. Had my own personal fairy princess guide me through the day, and it was awesome. I've always been fairly certain that my wife is part fairy. She sort of glides through this world, and can make things sparkle just by being near them. She doesn't age. And I am pretty sure she can read minds.
So, yesterday my fairy guide and I drove up to Rocky Mountain National Park, to get away from all that is going on and see some natural beauty. This was a good idea, and I highly recommend, if you can, to go somewhere you can get outside, see beauty, and also do the whole social distancing. Because we can't do world distancing. I think it is essential to experience life as much as we can. Lisa made sandwiches and snacks, I gassed up the car, wiped and cleaned and sanitized everything, and we headed west, up 36. At the town of Lyons, we found the road to Estes Park- the place where the Stanley Hotel of The Shining is located, was closed. But there was a detour, a road we had never taken. We figured what the hell, took that road.
This was the right thing to do. The drive was gorgeous, with stunning views of Mt. Meeker as well as this little stone church that didn't look real it was so pretty. And we were seeing things we had never seen before. As we drove, we listened to music. We had both had enough news. This, too, was the right thing to do. Have you noticed how much more music touches you these days?


At the park, we met a few Magpies. And they had a few things to say to us. And when I say a few I mean a lot. First, as we were driving, there was this one sitting on a branch. Lisa wanted a photo, we stopped. I rolled down my window for the shot, and the bird turned to me and started going off. I swear it was trying to tell me something. Later, we were having our little picnic before our hike, and another one flew up, and also tried to tell us something. Quite urgently. I think it was saying something like "you just have to keep living. Give me some of your food. This too shall pass, but don't be stupid. Just a bit of your bread would be fine. Tell people you love them more. Bread, now. We, the birds, will protect you on your journey. Also, seeds would be good. Peace be with you..."

Later, I got on a Facetime call to set up a game of Dungeons and Dragons. And it was awesome. Not just setting up the game, but spending time with people I love. How quickly has that become precious. They have not played D&D before, and it's been a few years for me, but already I can tell this will be fun. Creating characters, exploring worlds, casting spells- together. Today we figure it all out. 

And then, I read. For an hour or so. That, too, had more magic in it than usual.

Well, I think the magic is always there. I've just seen more of it than usual, because my third, fourth, and fifth eyes have all been pried open by recent events.

Let's see what today brings.

https://youtu.be/JwJr9Rniofc

ANYBODY SLEEPING?

Day 3. I wake up a lot at night now. Sometimes it's because Lisa has woken up. Sometimes it's me. We both just wake up a lot. Bad dreams. Scary thoughts. Sort of like there's a global pandemic or something. Yesterday was... Well, I can't say new normal yet, because nothing seems normal, each day is an odyssey through emotions and memories, phone calls to people I haven't called in forever, rechecking our stocks yet again, chores around the house (mostly cleaning, but also some gardening), checking my phone for some sort of new headlines besides "shit is getting worse", commenting on social media every hour about how we need to freeze mortgages and rents, cover all bills, and so on. And then we went to Lisa's dad's house for some corned beef and cabbage, keeping 6 feet between us at all times. This was the highlight of the day. Well, that, and our daily walk, where the world sort of makes sense.

Oh! I also wrote a one act play for the Quarantine Bake Off. That was fun. Went with having a group of playwrights meeting to read their pages. They break into Coors Field, cook some soup on a camping stove, make home made sanitizer, sing some Air Supply, have a run in with ball park security, and then get down to reading their stuff. And I had good talk with a producer friend about a musical we are working on. And also wrote up a bunch of exercises kids can do for Reel Kids while stuck at home. Vlogs, music videos, short films, all tailored to the current situation. So did get some actual stuff done. Fed the soul. We should all write more. And not comments on social media. I mean plays, stories, poems, songs.

I think that's key. Feeding the soul.

To that end. I thought of a game we can all play. I used to play it back in that other world called the past. Get some friends on a group chat, or in person, or whatever. Find a book of poems. Open to a random page. Have someone read the poem out loud. Discuss. Did this once with Jack Halpin and Christine Goodman and came upon "To My Old Addresses" by Kenneth Koch. It blew us away. I've read that one at a few dinners when it seemed right. A poem that starts sort of silly, then takes a left turn and opens up the world. I'd post it here, but can't find an online version of it, and don't have time to write it up. Maybe soon. Who knows. Maybe that will be today's odyssey.

Although we are most likely going to go up to the mountains before it snows. The mountains don't seem to worry about the virus.

Things that have meaning these days: Nature, music, friends, family, my dog.

Ok. More tomorrow. Love, laugh, learn. I hope your day's odyssey is kind.

DAY TWO OF WHO KNOWS HOW MANY?

So. Got up today at 6:30. I suppose I should add "in the morning", or "am", so that it's clear. I could totally see sleeping until 6:30pm. Why not? No work to do. Nation shutting down, bit by bit. End of the world and all that. But that just doesn't feel right. I like getting up like I normally do.

First thing I do, pretty much every day, is go downstairs and make coffee. I do the French press thing. So I get up, microwave a cup of coffee left over from the day before. (note, if you want to do this, always leave a cup for yourself to use the next day while waiting for water to boil) So I grind the beans, put the kettle on, and either read or write. Of late, I've read the NY Times live coverage of the virus. But that doesn't really wake my soul right. So that can wait.

And here I am, in front of the computer, typing out whatever pops into my head.
This is kind of like what I did after 9/11, when I lived in NYC. At the time of the attacks, my girlfriend had just been diagnosed with breast cancer two months before, and we had no insurance. So I took a second job for JP Morgan, working on their trading floor on the support staff for emerging markets. I would have to be at work by 7:30, and spent the first hour in front of a computer, usually doing nothing but there in case a call came in. After a full day, I'd either head home, or head to my restaurant job for a dinner shift. My mind was mush, and I was tired, and stopped dreaming at night. I'd just lay down, and when I slept, it was pure oblivion. Life was about 60 hours a week of work, plus whatever else got thrown at me. By the time of the attacks, the idea of the world changing and nothing being the same was already reality. So, I'd get to work after an hour on the subway from Brooklyn, and stare at the screen. And I began sending myself emails, letting my brain go off. No editing, no filter. Just me.

That's sort of what this is. I think.

So.

Walked the dog last night. Took one of our usual routes. Saw a few folks, but kept a safe distance, which annoyed Padfoot to no end. He wants to smell those other dogs.

Called my buddy Jack out in Jersey City. He needs to go see his dad in Oregon, who recently had a minor heart attack. I often call Jack. We go way back. I might do a whole entry on that. Maybe do entries on various friends and my history with them. That might be cool. What do you think, people out in the ether?

We talked about the usual stuff. And about how this will effect movies and plays and books. The things we like. What kind of film will be popular after this? What won't be so cool anymore? I look at all the projects I have- currently, a limited series, two screenplays, a musical- and wonder if they are still relevant.

Got home, worked on a play challenge- the Quarantine Bake Off. Might finish it. First stab, I have a group of writers who have broken into Coors field to BBQ and read scripts. Kind of fun. And fun is important, isn't it? Fuck yes it it.

That's the thing we have to keep doing. Live.

When my mom got sick, I would often get high and plead with the Moon to somehow change things, to make it not be so. The Moon did not comply. But one night, begging yet again for her to be ok, I had a bit of an epiphany. The only thing we can do to combat death is to live.

So let us live. Let us sing and dance and tell bad jokes and walk our dogs and make coffee for each other.

Let us live.

LIFE DURING WARTIME

Ok. It's been two years since I wrote an entry for this blog. Times change. Holy shit do they change. So, why now? Well, as I'm stuck home, with time on my side and a computer in front of me, I figured what the hell? Also, I have a script to work on, and this puts that off. At least for a bit.  Yes, even in times of virus and madness, procrastination in regards to writing is a thing.
So, I'm just going to write whatever pops into my mind, share it with the world, and see what happens.
Today. Got up, wrote in my journal, made coffee, watched the news. Always fun these days. Got on FB, saw some funny things. And a few folks still in denial. Considered writing nasty comments. Refrained. Called a few friends I should have called years ago, but hadn't until now.
Why does it take the shit hitting the fan for us to reach out to those we love?
Got word my brother-in-law has a fever, and if it goes above 100.5, he has to go in to get tested. Because, why test someone who is sick, has a fever, and spent last week in Vegas? We need more tests. So many more. And I have read WHO offered us some, as did Germany, but we said "no, no, we got this". So much winning.
I don't want to play the blame game, as the talking points call it.
But then again, if the captain of the ship is steering us straight for a fucking ice berg, it's time to relieve him of duty. That's not blaming. That's self preservation.
Somewhere today, I watched the Andrew Cuomo, the Governor of New York, give a speech, and remembered what it's like to have a leader in charge.
Why can't we just put him in the White House? Or Obama?
I'd even take George W. Bush.
Shit, I'd even take George H.W. Bush, in his current state.
Anywho.
e end is a bit of a downer.
Still, I hope there will be a season three.
Tonight, going to listen to new vinyl we got in mail today as part of Vinyl Me Please.
Very awesome.
And yes, I will work on script.
Well, scripts. Top secret musical project, as well as limited series I've been working on forever, working title: American Spirits.
Read some Lovecraft. Because, you know, Corona.
And going to catch up on McMillion$ on HBO.
And call more old friends.
That's it for now.
Here's a video for a song I have been listening to a lot:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjrUOlK2714