LORD HELP ME I CAN'T CHANGE

I am thinking of change this morning. Our resistance to it. Our need of it. And how Change could not give two shits about what we think, want, and/or need. Change comes at all times. Change is really synonymous with life. We are in a constant state of flux, whether we like it or not. A lot of it that flux is in the "or not" category. Physically, we are nothing more than a mass of atoms and molecules and so forth, all in constant movement. We grow, hit our peak early in life, then slowly hit our not peak. And that one sucks, but I think we age because the universe knows that if we didn't we would pretend that nothing ever happens, nothing changes, nothing evolves. And that, as Socrates once said, is bullshit.

And I don't always feel this way. But I do today. My outlook has changed. 

See what I did there?

I think about the bands I love the most. And the thing they have in common is that they change. They don't try to recreate their first album. They create the album or song or concert they are working on at that moment. They navigate the room they are in, and don't try to pretend it's a different room. Often, when a musician or band comes out with a new sound, feel, attitude, the fans freak out. At least at first. We want the music to make us feel like we did when we heard it the first time. I think what we really want is to be the people we were when we heard it the first time. But those people have gone Elsewhere and are playing hide and go seek in a graveyard in another dimension. 

Now, for me, if I am in a phase of my psychic moon that allows for change, embraces it, I listen to the new sounding album for a bit, and after awhile I fall in love with it and now want the band to make me feel like I do at that moment again and again. And the cosmic dance of funk continues.

I think about the planet, and how right now the world is seriously fucked because a lot of us are resistant to changing our lives or lifestyles, which have created an atmosphere that heats up and changes everything is really nasty ways, leading to oceans rising, forests burning, species dying off, and so on. By resisting change, we bring about greater change.

Put another way, we are stupid.

We really are. And one thing that doesn't seem to change is that we hate being told we are stupid, so very much. But sometimes, we need to be told we are being stupid. Foolish. Ill advised. 

The doesn't change either. The way, if something is said in a nicer sounding way, we more easily accept it. 

Ego. Fucking ego. Not only a poorly written bad guy in Guardians of the Galaxy vol. w, but a dangerous aspect of our humanity that, while essential to being a human being, can and often does get us into a lot of trouble.

We need change. We fear change. We love change. We hate change. 

I think we are all crazy. And I love us all. I do. I think that is about the only way to deal with things, before anything else. Accept and love and forgive and move on. I think the more crap you have thrown at you in your life, the more you need to do that. Not more, maybe, but the clearer the need for it. 

And that's difficult to do. 

But whenever I've managed to do that, I have been rewarded with peace and love and understanding.

So. Today, if possible, don't be like the dude in Freebird who sings about how he can't change, the Lord help him he can't change. Because he was lying. He was changing as he sang. He is changing still. And so are all of us. 

I feel like maybe that was all a bit preachy. But isn't all writing a bit preachy, on some level?

Okay. On to meetings, teaching. more meetings. And change. Evolution. Life.

Here's a song. It's Changes, by Bowie. 

MY PERMANENT COSTUME

Halloween is almost here. My favorite time of year. Crisp skies, leaves changing color, lots of monster movies, what's not to love? On top of that, the Giants are in the playoffs, going up against their ancient rivals, the Dodgers. Among the things I miss the most about being a kid, I miss Halloween and trick-r-treating. We'd cover a huge area in San Jose back then, and I would fill at least three pillow cases with candy by the end of the night, then go home, divide the goods up, trade with my fellow ghouls, and stay up late watching Creature Features. In my mind, every Halloween was on a Friday or Saturday, every time the weather was perfect, and the candy bars were all full size. 

What is it about dressing up and acting like a monster, vampire, zombie, pirate, and so on that is so satisfying? Wish fulfillment? Escape? Madness?

Now, way way back, I also thought the Moon was full of green werewolves with bat wings for ears and that when said Moon was full, they'd fly out, coming down to Earth to dine on anyone fool enough to be outside. On top of that, the Boogie Man lived up there too. In my mind, the Boogie Man was a psychotic variation on Chef Boy-ar-dee, with a huge butcher knife, but he would come out from mirrors, so those were to be avoided.

I had some issues, I suppose.

Still, I'd like to go trick-r-treating in that far away land of Back Then. 

I think my writing is all an attempt to do just that. To fill the world with absurd monsters, plucky young heroes, and candy. I did this Twitter thing today, called ScreenPit, where you tweet out a logline for a movie or limited series of TV pilot. My four tweets were:

Kelly McAllister

@rkmcallister

·

3h

AMERICAN SPIRITS When her two best friends drastically change overnight, an idealistic young woman is drawn into a paranormal mystery surrounding a dark force taking over her hometown.

BOOGIE MAN A deaf woman who can communicate with the dead teams up with an obnoxious Paranormal Reality TV host to fight a homicidal ghost.

BURNING THE OLD MAN While taking their father’s ashes to Burning Man, a high strung young man and his estranged brother break down in the desert and are forced to confront their complicated past.

THE BELVEDERE JUNGLE Coming of age story of a gifted boy who escapes into wild fantasies to escape his dysfunctional, alcoholic home. Notice a trend? Everything is either a scary movie or someone trying to fix the past.

They say as a writer, you need to find your voice. My voice is a wolf howling Angry Young Man by Styx, in monotone.

Oh! Speaking of writing, I was working on Belvedere Jungle, going over the story arc, them, tone, and all that. When I write, I do a lot of rewrites, which usually involves lots of staring at the screen, listening to music, staring at the screen, cleaning the house, staring at the screen, reading a new book, and staring at the screen. And now and then, some actual writing.

So, I'm doing just that, and for some reason I decide to finally read Doctor Sleep. And the first thing in it, the first damn thing, is a quote about letting go of anger. Which is basically what the main character in Belvedere Jungle learns to do over the course of the story. It seems not like such a big deal now that I write it down, but at the time it seemed to me a sign from the Writing Gods that I was on the right path, I was where I needed to be, and all we well.

I am a magic thinker. A fool. Me.

Still, I do take it as a sign, silly as that may sound. I have chosen the Foolish Magic Thinker for my permanent costume, so what else can I do?

I hope you have chosen yourself a good costume as well. One that thrills you, at times frustrates you, but that fits you like a glove and brings joy to your weary heart on those long days that always manage to find you.

And that you avoid mirrors and green werewolves when the moon is full.

Here's a song. It's a cover of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London by Reina del Cid & Toni Lindgren. Hope you dig it. And if you do the Twitter thing, go and give my tweets some love.

SUCKERS AND HOPE

Day Two of the Comeback, starring yours truly as the playwright/actor/director/screenwriter/school teacher/full time lunatic/Stephen King fan/Mystic/Left Foot of Sasquatch. Yes. That last one works for me. I am the Left Foot. And that foot dances. It is my official title for Sasquatch Productions, my production company that's been around for a few years now, and one of those things that has felt right from the moment of inception to the right now. 

I think sticking with things that make you happy is a good thing to do, but somehow not something we manage to do enough in our lives. We stay at jobs we don't like all that much. We stick it out in relationships that are lopsided, unhealthy, or worse. We smile and nod at friends who inform us that they have "done some research" and know a few things about medicine that we don't. We patiently wait for the powers that be, who have profited for generations by exploiting the planets resources with little to no remorse or concern, to finally do the right thing. And then, after putting up with whatever particular bullshit we are putting up with for far too long, we lash out at some other, easier target, and think we have spoken our truth. 

At least it seems that way to me.

As you can probably tell, I listened to the news this morning while making my toast and coffee. There was a story about Southwest Airlines cancelling thousands of flights, and vehemently denying it had anything to do with their pilots, who seem to have all drunken the proverbial Kool Aid of Dipshits and are protesting vaccine mandates. 

Because freedom.

The above is from Easy Rider, written by Terry Southern, Dennis Hopper, and Peter Fonda. That speech hit me like a mack truck the first time I heard it, and it has only gotten more resonant with me the longer I have lived in this world. Yet another example of writing, of art, helping me understand the world I live in. Not that I didn't already suspect that what that speech says it true. I did. But it articulated that truth. Gave it some definition. And better still, some humanity.

In the movie, right after that scene, a bunch of drunken local yahoos show up and kick the shit out of all three characters. Nicholson's character gets killed. 

Yay freedom.

It just seems like people are determined to prove Barnum right, that there is indeed a sucker born every minute, and all you need to do is cater to their fears and hopes, give them a straw man, woman, or government cabal to blame their ills on, and you can do whatever you want. 

Okay. Enough. I could rant on and on about this subject, and I am sure there will be more on this soon, right here in River City, with a capital R that rhymes with Gar, that's a type of fish. 

What else? I am listening to a playlist curated by Edgar Wright, put out to promote his upcoming film Last Night in Soho. The list is called Edgar Wright's Soho Nights, and you can find it on Spotify and Apple Music. I love it. All these great tunes that have an inherent grooviness. I dig the movies of Mister Wright. I'd like him to direct one of my scripts. I think he would get my style. 

I am sorry if I went to the dark side up there. I'm just worried about our nation, the planet, my street. All of it. I love being alive so much. I love music and people and trees and oceans. And music and movies. And I am fairly certain we could have a really great thing going on here on Earth, if not for the Great Greedy Goon Squad. 

Happy things: I am working on a pitch for a ghost story movie. I have several to choose from, as I love scary movies, and have written a ton. There's one about a deaf woman who learns she can communicate with the dead after going to a seance for a cheesy reality show in the hopes of talking with her deceased sister. There's one about a high school theatre group that find out just how deadly it can be to go against superstitions. There's another about a forgotten factory town in the Rust Belt betting taken over by a couple of obnoxious ghosts who treat everyone like shit, drink like fish, fuck everything in sight, and have an overblown sense of how awesome they are. The town falls in love with them and do their best to emulate the ghosts' nasty behavior. 

I am leaning towards that last one. It's working title is American Spirits. I hope to be able to pitch it at this ghosty story pitch party at the Austin Film Festival. I put my name in the hat, now it's just a waiting game. 

On top of those projects, I have another one, a variation on a writing assignment I did a few years back, a sort of mash up of Men in Black and Finding Bigfoot. 

I find happiness, and understanding, in stories about monsters, possession, and madness. Holding the mirror up to the world and all that, I suppose. Not that I focus solely on the negative. No. A good story, I believe, is one that shows the world is all its glory as well as all its shame. And there is a lot of glory. A lot of goodness and joy and magic. Yin and Yang, duality of nature, Suckers and Hope, and on and on.

Wow. Meandering thoughts today. Well, that's where I am, and so I write it. I hope you all find compassion today, and humor, and a cool set of music to pick you up when you are low.

Here's one. It's Dusty Springfield doing Spooky.

LET'S SEE WHAT FATE BRINGS US

As Robert Plant said, it's been a long time sing I rock-n-rolled-n-blogged. But I have had several people tell me that the blog helped them get through the shut down, and that made me think maybe there is merit to my blog beyond just me letting my thoughts land on this electronic page. Also, I felt like writing on it again. So here I am, rock me like a hurricane, to use another song reference. I think most of my language is either a song or movie or tv reference of some type. Books too, and a bit of poetry. And of course theatre. I suppose we all are quoting something we heard or read at all times, making verbal collages of our memories. 

In any event, I am here again, with more of said verbal collages for you all to read. I hope you dig it. I hope I dig it. I hope. I hope. I hope. That's a reference to Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, the short story by Stephen King made in to the movie The Shawshank Redemption, one of the few film adaptations of a book I thought did it right. I love Stephen King, always have. Since I was around twelve and got handed a copy of Night Shift. Something about the way he describes people and places resonates with me. Makes me think we live in the same world, experience life in a similar way. I ate up his novels as quickly as I could for many years. I remember camping at Pinecrest Lake with my buddy Chris Carver and his family and reading The Shining, and getting completely lost in that story. The fact that the main character is a father losing himself to alcoholism probably contributed to my immersion in that one seeing as it was something I had witnessed and was still witnessing when I read that story. On top of that, King has a clear love of rock-n-roll, which I do as well. And he quotes some awesome writers, usually at the start of a chapter, or by having some character in one of his stories talk about a book they've read. I never would have read Watership Down if not for it being mentioned in, I think, The Stand. 

If you haven't read The Shining or The Stand, please do. Right now. I'll wait.

Okay. Everyone back? Good.

Moving on. Somehow I went to Stephen King. Maybe it's because it's Halloween time. Or because I am speaking of writing, and he is one of my heroes. I read his book On Writing over the summer, and was reminded yet again of how much I adore his work. I am fairly certain I would not be who I am, or communicate in the way I do, if I had not read so much Stephen King growing up. No doubt, there is a whole generation of people who speak the way they do, think the way they do, in part due to The Hunger Games. Or the Harry Potter series. Or Percy Jackson. You get the idea.

I wonder if anyone thinks a little bit differently because of what I've wrote? I suppose that is something I can't worry about all that much, or I'll become like a self conscious actor, unable to be in the moment, constantly second guessing my each and every word.

Well, sorry if I've made you think things... No. I'm not sorry. Not if I made you think, or feel, or do something in your life. Unless you've become a serial killer or some other terrible thing. In that case, I am very sorry and hope you stop.

So. A quick update on me. I am working on several shows right now: Holiday Inn at StageDoor; Spike at the Mercury Cafe; Harry Potter at Reel Kids; and The Wizard of Oz with my company, Sasquatch Productions, at the PACE. 

I'm also going to the Austin Film Festival next week. Very excited. My script The Belvedere Jungle is a Second Rounder there, as is my play Burning the Old Man. I'm going to take part in a Pitch Fest, go to a ton of panels, and eat lots of breakfast burritos. Beyond that, let's see what fate brings me.

Let's see what fate brings all of us. So much going on in the world. Trump fans still living in an alternate universe. Global warming getting worse. Pandemic not gone yet. We got a lot of fixing to do. A lot of anger to let go of. A ton of love to find. We can do it. I know we can. But we are still in that time of flux. I do not know when it will end or where it will lead us. But I do think writing, singing, acting, laughing, and loving will get us where we all need to go. 

Here is a song for you. It's See the World by Gomez. I dig it. Also, if you get a chance and are in Denver, go see: Young Frankenstein at the Vintage; Steel Magnolias at Cherry Creek Rep; and Murder on the Orient Express at StageDoor. And read some damn Stephen King!

 

LITTLE SHOP OF TIME, STONED AND FUNKY

Suddenly it's Summer. And 2021. What happened? Time is out of joint. No, Time smoked a joint and we are all experiencing a mass contact high, where time flows backwards and forwards, and all things past, present, and future exist at the same time. 

We are all Doctor Manhattan.

Speaking of science fiction, I am directing a production of Little Shop of Horrors that opens tomorrow.  This is with Sasquatch Productions, the company I have with August Stoten. I am am the Left Foot, and he is the Right Foot. I love it. The company, the show, the whole enchilada. There is nothing so satisfactory as going to rehearsals and thinking "this is my show, for my company, and we hired everyone and they are all rock stars". 

They are. Don't take my word for it. Here, watch the video below.

https://vimeo.com/565878982

This show is rock-n-roll meets Science Fiction meets a world where Time is High and we all feed the plants that we shouldn't feed. 

It's groovy.

Still don't believe me? Cool. Watch this one then:

https://vimeo.com/566315606 

I see shows differently since the shutdown.

I see the world differently.

It's weird but cool and disconcerting and feels right but also... sort of scary. Like death is that much more real, life that much shorter, everything a little more intense.

And I find I need live theatre more. And art. And music. 

And I also find I don't really give a shit about things that used to seem so important.

What? You want another video about the show?

Fine.

https://vimeo.com/566812074

I want you to come to this show. And then hang out after. Tell me about your experiences. How Time feels to you. What it all means. 

And yeah, I got one more video:

https://vimeo.com/567004957

THAT'S MISTER SQUEAKY TO YOU

I teach theatre to kids. Have for many years now. When I first got to Denver, I was a starving artist, a playwright and actor who had lived in many a small apartment in NYC. Suddenly, I was getting married, living in an actual house, and my responsibilities changed. I needed to get a job. In New York, I had waited tables and made enough money doing that to stay afloat and do my thing. But in Denver, the job market was a bit different. I did some temp work, catering, and so on. And somehow, I started teaching children's theatre. First at a little place up in Boulder. I had no real plan, so I just talked to the kids like they were people. And that seemed to work. We did shows like Aesop's Fables, and The Arabian Nights, mostly from smaller theatre publishers who specialized in young people's theatre. The scripts were for the most part awful. So we would do what we could to fix them. And they turned out pretty good. 

On my very first day, it was raining. We met in a school gym, and the floors were wood, which made my shoes squeak. One of the kids asked me if she could call me Mister Squeaky Shoes. I said sure. By the next week, the "shoes" part of the name had vanished, but I was Mr. Squeaky. And my career as a theatre teacher began in earnest. 

That was over ten years ago. I've worked at many a theatre, all over Denver. And I now even teach adults. They're are not quite as fun as kids, but I do enjoy it. One of my jobs is with StageDoor Theatre, up in Conifer, which is a little mountain town about an hour from where I live. I got hired to replace a beloved teacher who had left for greener pastures. Our first show was How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying. It was for their high school program. We had a limited budget, way more girls than boys for a show that had way more male roles than female, and at least half the cast was looking at me askance, wondering if I could possibly replace their former teacher. Somehow, we pulled it off, and so began my ongoing relationship with StageDoor. 

The theatre is small, but mighty. There is a love of theatre there that is genuine and intense. I love it. 

This past year, we were about to open Sweeney Todd when the shut down happened. Like, we were going into tech week, and suddenly, the show was gone. And it was going to be fantastic. The cast was into it. I was into it. Things were clicking, and everyone was reaching new heights. Losing that show hurt. And one day, I really hope we can do it. We shall see. The theatre had to close all its shows, for almost an entire year. Which hurt, both artistically and economically. 

Finally, we are back, and about to open a show I wrote called Gleeful. It's about a high school show choir, and may remind people of a certain tv show. To quote Mick Jagger, the show is a gas, gas, gas. 

Just being able to do theatre at all is a gift.

And we want to do more. But money is tight, so I suggested the theatre do a GoFundMe. They said fine, as long as you run it. 

So I did. My song for you all today is a video I made from footage of Monday's rehearsal. The song is Candles. The show is Gleeful. The theatre is StageDoor. Hope to see you there. And if you can, please kick in a few bucks, and then share the page. It's good karma.

Groovy vs. Cruel

And now it's April. How did that happen? Isn't it still 2019? And 1976? And 2001? I have come unhinged in time, and I kind of dig it. Whatever year it is, I do like the weather. Blue skies. Flowers in bloom. And everyone I see on the street seems happy. At ease. Not freaking out quite like before.

And when I say before, I think we all know instantly what I mean. Back in the panic zone. When we all felt like we were in a dream, knew it was a dream, but couldn't figure out how to wake ourselves up. The time of endless bad jokes about toilet paper hoarding. When everyone was watching The Tiger King. I wonder if that will hold up in future years? I read a lot. Listened to a lot of music. Tons, really. Took up cooking in an instant pot. (if you ever want some of the best Mac-n-Cheese made with chorizo and gouda, come on by)

But here we are in April, once described as the cruelest month. I think it's the grooviest month. I think I shall strive to do all those things I've been meaning to do since before. Write more. Hug more. Return calls more. Live more. And live well. I have a great capacity to procrastinate. And it's one of those things that, once started, is hard to stop. Like, if I have to make a call to the dentist, I either have to do it first thing in the morning, or it ain't happening. And then, weeks later, when my wife asks me if I called the dentist, I sigh, remember I should have done that, and the cycle then repeats. 

No doubt, I will do that some more. But hopefully not quite so much as before. 

And if I do, I am going to give myself a break.

I have discovered that's important too. Giving people a break. Last night, at one of the many rehearsals I have going on, the cast was acting kind of nuts. Attention span was zero. Talking out of turn at an all time high. And everyone seemed to have forgotten every bit of blocking, singing, and choreography. I felt like yelling. Almost did. Then something weird happened. I took a breath, reminded myself we have all been through a lot, and started asking nicely if everyone could get it together. I had to ask several times, but soon, the whole cast was on stage, getting things done, working hard, and even laughing. 

It was awesome. 

So that's April. No long cruel. Totally groovy.

Here's the song "It's Not My Fault I'm Happy" by Passion Pit. Enjoy. And be Groovy.