the one where I’m a john

July 16, 2013

So I’ve been busy. I have been writing and enjoyed good news. I probably should have shared it here earlier. I mean what is the point of having this blog if you don’t share good news when it comes?

The good news?

A play I wrote was selected for a 10 minute play festival.

The better news?

The wifebot is the director.

The bad news?

Well unless you happened to see it over the previous three weeks then you won’t be seeing it. That’s right; it’s come and gone before I ever said anything about it here. I’ve made a list of Cleveland themed writing goals, and this production helped me check one off of the list. The play was part of the 10×10 festival held in The River Street Theatre through Chagrin Valley Little Theatre. If you ever get a chance, check it out because they’re an awesome bunch.

I suppose at this point it’ll be best to mention what would probably be the real bad news. The festival and my play got totally reamed by a reviewer. This of course comes with the territory as a writer. I can easily shrug it off—not that I was hoping for a bad review—but I do deal with a ton of rejection. The reviewer called my play a “tedious affair.”

Ouch.

(note: as I started to write this post in my head but didn’t write till now I’ve forgotten some bit about crying myself to sleep. It was funny I assure you.)

Or rather he thought John Remick’s play was a tedious affair. I feel bad for this John guy. That’s right; he got my name wrong in the review. Now at first I laughed this off as probably a good thing, but the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.

I mean if you’re going to call someone’s hard work tedious at least get their name right.

Right?

Which is what I posted and he responded “yes, that is preferred.”

Wow.

A great time was had. I enjoyed the production. I wish I had more of a chance to work with the wifebot but that will come. The actors were awesome, and everyone had a good time. That is all that matters. Six of my coworkers even made it to see the show.

In the end, I was thrilled to see my play on stage and lucky enough to have help staying grounded by the terrible review.

 

Or at least John Remick was.


the one with an origin story.

July 18, 2011

The fact that the wifebot was in a show recently meant that I was at a Theatre a lot over the last three weeks. This is something I’ll rarely complain about. I love the vibe, passion and energy that flow freely at a theatre when a show is up. Strangely the audience was usually made up of older adults.

(Strange in that it wasn’t the traditional plays being performed.)

I rarely miss a show of hers and this time was no different. I was at every single performance even the preview show. This means a lot of time around actors and directors, which for me is always a little strange. I dig them; it just always feels a little weird.

This also (generally) means I’m going to field the “you’re a playwright?” or “what are you writing over there?” questions. You can throw in the paranoia that I’m writing what they are saying or writing about them.

Now I’ve been known to steal conversations and clearly there is overheard Ohio but come on people. Not everything is about you. One night I was talking to an actor and they asked why I didn’t submit to the fest.

(And that is a story of my idiotic messing up of the deadline.)

As I talked over my glass of complimentary wine a dude who had been eyeing me as I wrote made his way to where I was sitting. As I returned from the wine table/my conversation he asked if I was going to be sitting there again. I told him he could have that seat as I was gonna walk around a bit.

He frowned and said “I was hoping you’d have a seat with me. I’d like to ask you some things.”

Jimi: Fuck that shit can’t you see I was working on some writing?

Or

Jimi: Sure why not.

I sat. He peered at me.

Him: I heard you’re a playwright.
Me: yeah.
Him: How does one go about becoming a playwright?
Me: Write plays? I mean I found my passion there and see things on the stage now.

The conversation went on from there. Mostly about how, what and why I write plays. He asked if I could talk about the play I was working on with him.

You may or may not know that the play I’m working on is a struggling playwright (ha ha) who gets dumped, fired, and rejected on the same day. He gets drunk and wants a simpler time. He remembers (and longs for) the time fondly when he was young and had an imaginary friend. His friend’s name is Percy T. Whale and yes he is a walking talking whale. He wishes for him and he returns. The problem? Percy is a drunk, annoying jerk who only causes trouble.

So I tell him this and he starts to get into it. He‘s asking questions and throwing out suggestions. He asks if I’ve considered letting someone writing a scene or two for me.

(Uhm?)

As the conversation continues it seems more and more like he’s hoping I’ll ask him to collaborate with me. Luckily Lindsay came and I was saved. The next week an older lady heard I’d seen every show—I help out the theatre doing whatever I can—and asked me why. When she found out that my wife is an actress and I’m a playwright she began asking questions.

I talked all the while hoping she’d ask me how I became a playwright.

Origin of a playwright:

When I was twelve I hated reading and loved math. I wanted to grow up and do something in the math field. One day while walking around and solving math problems in my head I came across a dog. I went to pet it and it bit my arm. I passed out.

When I woke up I was in the hospital and the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I had a fever and just started writing and writing plays. I wrote until the fever went down and I’ve been a playwright ever since.

She didn’t ask but that will be what I tell the next person.


What I learned last week: 6/3-6/10

July 10, 2011

What I learned from last week

Group interviews suck:

Ok technically I already knew this. I’d been in group interviews before and they’ve always sucked. Last week I had an interview for a job at a college. I arrived all gussied up and what not. When I checked in I heard group interview and my first instinct was to run. I didn’t I sucked it up and went through with it. It was horridly painful. It ended with each of us having to get up in front and do a “commercial” about ourselves.

Katy Perry is hot.

Ok again something I already knew. I’ve never hid the fact that I have an HUGE crush on Katy Perry. The problem it seems is I also enjoy her music. I mean it’s not my favorite in the world but I dig it and she is way hot. So the wifebot bought tickets to her concert and I went.

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Katy Perry puts on a surprising good show.

She sort of won me over with her performance.
(Okay she had already won me over with her boobs, but still.)
Her show was very theatrical and pretty fun.

Star Trek the Next Generation: The Porn Parody:

Yes there is this. They do appear to have tried to have a real plot and decent attempt at graphics. Kimberly Kane (another crush of mine.) is in it, but unfortunately not really in the trailer. She plays Dr. Crusher.

I REALLY like to talk about my writing:

We all probably knew that, but this week it really stuck out. There was this strange dude at the wife’s show and he heard me say I was a playwright. He asked to talk with me and asked about my writing. I talked and answered all his questions even when it got weird. He seemed to be steering it toward trying to “collaborate” with me.

The wifebot is an amazing actress:

Again already knew this but the shows this weekend were pretty impressive. Plus look what the Sun News said: Catherine Remick (the wifebot) and Natalie Dolezal start off the festival with strong, snarky emotion absolutely crucial to the scene and some of the most capable and natural acting in the production. I got it here.

Going out to see Fireworks can be a good time:

I’ve sort of been lukewarm about going to see fireworks. I mean I enjoy it but this year I had a lot of fun.The three shillelaghs headed over to family fest (I think it was called that) presented by RTA. It was a good time. It was nice to hang out enjoying the 216 on a blanket with friends and random people.

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We’re rock stars:

Two times last week the wifebot and I were singled out for being awesome. As we left for the Katy Perry concert we were stopped by a lady. She said “you two look like you was walking right out of a magazine.” On the 4th of July as we entered the family fest (or whatever) a man stopped us to take our picture. He thought we were “such an interesting couple” and “looked made for each other.”

Finding lost friends:

Just yesterday my meebo app (lets me chat easily on my phone) signed on by itself. My sound was off and I was unaware. It’s connected to my aim (I know right?) and someone who I met thru a band’s message board immed me. I saw it like 3 hours later but luckily she was still online. We talked and it was nice. We’ve made sure to connect in other ways. It was very nice.

Movies on the couch:

It is such a simple joy putting in a movie and cuddling with the wifebot. Perfection.


The one where I get a handy on stage

December 20, 2010

Sunday bloody Sunday….no you didn’t accidentally come across Bono or the edges secret blog.

(I imagine their blog would consist solely of them repeating lyrics and giving grooming tips.)

One of these days I’ll figure out why I use parenthesis for statements like that.

Can he stop making the same joke every post?

(I dunno can i?)

Probably not. This weekend was all about the live shows it seems. Friday I went (all by myself. Sniff Sniff) to a wrestling show. It was held in a church banquet/bingo hall in Lakewood. The show was AIWs (Absolute Intense Wrestling) Nightmare before X-Mas 4. It was a good time and has its own story that sometime soon will be up here. Saturday night the wifey and I went to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat at the Beck Center. The show was decent but also not the point of this post.

What is the point you ask? I’m not sure there really ever is a point.

Anypointless the next thing we attended was a dinner theatre production of A Christmas Carol. This was way out in Geneva. Now I am not a big fan of A Christmas Carol. I mean not play or movie wise. I’m tired of it. I don’t need to see it again—ever. If it isn’t Scrooged I really don’t need to see it ever again.

Now her dad and stepmom didn’t know this. They just wanted to share something they enjoyed and thought was great. They’ve been to the place that does the dinner theatre on numerous occasions. One of which was a Poe themed one that they rave about and continually say how they wish I could’ve been there. They care. They know how important theatre is in our (wife and I) lives and it’s done with love. So you know when they wanted us to go to a show there I was willing to. I mean it would be an easy way to make them happy and they’ve done so much for me.

Oh it’s for A Christmas Carol? Damn.

Okay fine fine. It’ll make them happy. Then it happened that I would be out of time. Darn. The wife would be attending without me. It happens. They’d still be happy to go with her. Then it turns out that I would be in town and they could get us all tickets.

Damn.

Oh well you know bite the bullet and all that jazz. I was prepared to go once. Okay I’m in. They are buying after all. I do preach supporting live. Wait Sunday at 2pm? Like during the Browns game?

DAMN.

Okay. I can handle it. That’s fine. We drive up there—which was no picnic—and had to listen to Christmas music most of the ride up. Then we got the Browns game on the radio and it was okay. We get there and are seated and what not. You know at tables with other people.

Aw crap.

Oh well nice people I’m sure and at least they aren’t trying to talk to me. Oh man why does the kid have to sit next to me? Oh booze. Hello. First up I had a white Christmas: Makers Mark bourbon and eggnog. Yummy.
Oh what is this? A drink called The Ghost of Christmas Past.

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This included 7 different liquors that I can’t tell you because I left my program in the wifeys purse. I can tell you that there 2 different kind of rums in it. Whatever. They only let you get 2 per guest. The wife wouldn’t let me drink more than 2 drinks.

(Buzz Kill huh? Go here and tell her that.)

Anydrinky soon the show started. Well actually the play went on in scenes (most do) and then there would be a different course given. The food was delicious—or at least very good. Then they started bring audience into the play for certain scenes.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

Can you guess what eventually happened?

(Go on try.)

Yeah yours truly was chosen. Really bad choice because they were lucky I didn’t stab them with my fork. I went up angrily but you know willing to not give the actors shit. They have enough to deal with no? I was up there with my Cleveland City Stars scarf just hoping for it to be over. Apparently the wifey took a picture of me up there looking pissed but she has not given or even shown me it.

(Oh well.)

AnyfuckingParenthesis so there I am up there. They pass out birthday hats with numbers on them. The numbers are 1-12. Yep they want us to help them do the 12 days of Christmas. I was number 4. So they explain that we have to come up with a sound and noise associated with the number we had. I was 4 calling birds. As they worked on what some people would say (most peeps attention were on them and the group) something amazing happened. I of course was standing next to #3. I was on stage and she was on the floor next to me. She did her little French hen thing—which would be saying oui oui and doing some hand motions—and then she lost her balance.

She flailed. She grabbed for anything to catch her balance. Her hand went back and she grabbed my junk.
I mean this as literally as possible. A great big handful of jimis oui oui. And she held on to it too. For about 15-20 seconds before looking back and realizing it. She let go and mumbled something. Yeah.

Then we did are little 12 days rendition. Like a billion times. What was my thing?

Well I was 4 calling birds and when it came to me I waved and said:

“Hey birds.”

The people they laughed. Each and every time I did that. The in-laws totally got a kick out of it and repeated it often.


The one where I kill a man

December 7, 2010

It happened in the Alcazar. We were one of the first to arrive. Melvin sat on a couch and rose to greet us. I lied and said it was nice to meet him. His handshake wasn’t firm, but then neither was mine. He broke into the usual chit chat with Kat. I slid out of my coat and dropped it on a green chair. I reached out and shook the chair. It wasn’t something I normally did. I couldn’t tell you why I did it either. I moved it. I looked. I saw. My mind slipped down a rung.

He slumped in the chair the weight of the world ready to push down on his shoulders. As he sat his gray suit bulging at his stomach more than he remembered. With a sigh he pulled his hat off and hoped this night would end soon. The door barely made a sound but he heard it open nonetheless. The hat fell to the floor a distant memory. He spun out of his chair producing a small pistol as he did. Pop. Pop. He did all this without thinking. The man hardly out of the door way crumpled. Slowly he walked over. Carefully he toed the man’s gun away. He was dead. He knew this but checked anyway. It was time to go. Gunshots aren’t the sort of things you stick around after but he needed to say it. He needed to send this man off properly and with the reverence he deserved. Straightening up he glanced out the door and then he spoke in a hushed tone.

“Do you need anything young man?” he said in a shaky old lady voice.

Son of a bitch.

I looked up and sure enough I had wandered a little too close to the help desk. There was an older woman waiting for my answer. There was a younger man (which younger really wasn’t too hard to be) in the back office and he was staring at me. I matched their looks and then smiled. I lifted my notebook up allowing it once again to be my shield.

“Oh no I’m just looking and writing. I’m just waiting for the rest of the group.”

I fixed my ninja turtle stocking cap. Raphael met them head on. They’d be no match and I held back a laugh. I watched as he jumped over the desk and planted her with a kick to the stomach and a sai to the chest. Before the young guy had a chance to move he was downed with a sai tossed into his forehead.

I moved on. The lobby was warm and well lit. A couple of old ladies sat on one of the vintage looking couches. The décor was a mixture of wood pieces and thrift store chairs. The walls were a white faded brick. I circled the lobby. I walked past the couches and the bathrooms. I stopped at the rack with brochures with things to do in and around town. I searched for any sign of the man from earlier. I would take either one of the men—dead or alive—but they were gone. I fingered a community paper from last month. I hoped to find a headline that would catch his eye. I shoved the paper in his pocket but his coat was just a ghost like he was.

They were watching me now. Not necessarily with the eyes of hawk’s or any suspicion but more with a confused wonder. I touched the sign that told us all visitors had to check in at the desk. To the left was a table with a pot of water for coffee and some blueberry muffins. I wondered if he was hungry.

No of course not don’t be stupid. I looked to my right and there was an old work desk. Above it there were books and papers, and a puzzle box. On the desk sat a puzzle half made. I crossed the room. There was a pile of the pieces waiting to be used.

Begging almost.

He remembered begging. It was often a part of death. He kneeled next to the dead man who he didn’t know. For a brief instance he thought about looking for his wallet. He wanted to say his name to commit his name to memory, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Softly he closed the eyes of man he just killed. This wasn’t helping. He stood and whispered.

“vaya usted con Dios.”

Then he did the sign of the cross. He checked outside one last time and then picked up his hat. As he crossed the lobby a large black man entered the room. His voice boomed. “What is up everybody? What are all of you doing here?’ There was laughter and once again the man in the gray suit faded.

Unnamed.

However the large black man did have a name. It was Oatman or Michael. Which one depended on where you stood on the first or last name debate. He smiled and greeted everyone personally. The night was ready to begin. We sat down first in the lobby and then headed into another room. We sat around a giant conference table. Mints and water made their rounds. There was laughter. There was seriousness. Discussions were had. Ideas were floated. Everything was chummy. I sat in the background watching. Everyone was relaxed.

The violence that came did so swiftly from left field.

I said something. Nobody heard it. I said it a little louder this time standing up. The eyes of everyone fixed on me as I pushed forward. My target on the other side of the room and I was on him before he could react. I kicked him in his large gut. He toppled over. The rest of the group just watched.

One slap. He cried out.
Another slap. He mumbled and struggled. I kicked him. Hard.
A third slap produced a trickle of blood from his mouth.

He looked around but there was no help to be had. I kicked him some more and with a hand that didn’t feel like my own pulled out a sharp knife. He flailed and begged. His eyes locked with the group’s leader. I looked that way myself. One large black fist rose up and came back down as thumbs down.

I kicked him hard one more time just for the fun of it and then slit his throat in one long quick motion. It slurped and sucked and blood sprayed up. He chocked and fell silent. I pulled back blood on my face and neck. The knife fell from my hand. I was his executioner and I didn’t even know his name.

“Vaya usted con Dios.” I whispered.

Just then a lady came into the conference room. She was slim and aging. Her glasses hung around her neck. She asked something. The group startled and mumbled at her. Oatman asked her for two more minutes.
The play reading was about to start. The actors and playwright quickly scribbled in new additions and well one big cut. The blood of that cut was on my hands. I had spoken up. I spoke honestly and from the point of view of another playwright. The body in the corner was that of the psychiatrist and meant its actor would have 1 paragraph of dialogue at the end of the play. When I say the end of the play I mean it literally. It is on the last page. They are the last words heard.

All in all it was an interesting experience. The reading was well received. I always enjoy seeing the wife do theatre stuff. There isn’t a time where she seems happier than when doing stuff like that. She is never as beautiful as when her passion flows like that.

Danger Will Robinson. Danger! Wow that was sappy huh?

It’s my blog and I can be sappy if I want to. Sappy if I want to. You would be too if it—

I know. I know.

(Shut up)


Is this recap on?

August 16, 2010

And here we go. We need to rush right into the weekend recap because there was so much going on.

Wait I mostly sat on my couch all weekend?

Okay then. Those days can be good too. You know just sitting on the couch with your sweetie relaxing.

Oh it was mostly sitting on the couch with my laptop by myself? Well okay then.

Look can we just get through this recap without you asking so many questions? I mean rude. Give me a chance without all these accusations you keep throwing at me. I don’t need this type of abuse!

Anynotfunnyjoke the weekend was a strange mixture of doing things and sitting around. Friday night we had tickets to the Beck Center for the Arts production of ‘The Producers’. There will probably be a bigger post with my thoughts on the show tomorrow (no promises!) It was a fun time though. From there we made our way over to Parnell’s Pub to help the two soon to be newlyweds celebrate but since that plays is like 3 hours long we of course missed them. It was still a good time as always and we celebrated (read drank) with them in spirit. The wifey had 2 Strongbow and got a cute little buzz. She normally holds it better than that but it’s cute when she gets a little loopy up there.

Bed time a robust (what the what?) 2:30am.

And then Saturday we slept till noon. Yeah, for no real reason I slept that late and because of it woke up with a headache. This was a day for complete and utter uselessness. The wifey was on the phone with Dell for a long while (shocking I know.) I tried to get some writing done and shake the headache. I watched some English Premier League matches. We enjoyed our new French press.

Later in the day we went to see A night at the Opera (Marx Brothers bishes) at the Cinematheque. I’m digging the Cinematheque. A good place to watch flicks you can’t find elsewhere and you can bring your own food and drink into the theatre. I still don’t think the membership is all that worth it though but I love the place.

And I’m the Mayor bishes! (I’ll wait while you all yell your hatred for 4square out)

Afterwards we went home and had some delicious dinner. Of course the meal following the diets guidelines of:

1 protein
1 veggie
2 cups of lettuce
1 fruit

4 pounds lost last week which can be added to the previous 6 to make a decent start. Long ways to go but I know that and plan to make it there. It’s been easier this time because the wife has made a good variation of what we can have.

They say variety is the best way to make money in the prostitute business.

Something similar to that. Anyhooking from there we went to you guessed it Parnell’s! This time it was to meet some friends who now live out of this awesome state. We had a few drinks and a bunch of laughs. I got a few good overheard tidbits too. From there it was pretty much home and to bed.

Bed time: 1:00am

Sunday we woke up earlier but it was a lazy day for me (what else is new?) as I watched some more EPL and tried to write. I mostly just worked on some editing and what not which counts.

Right?
Right?
Is this thing on?

The wife did some cleaning and of course there was the Star Wars marathon on Spike TV. I can’t pass up Star Wars. It was fun to see her bust out with the appropriate famous line for whatever scene was on when she entered the room.

By fun I mean hot. Sexy sexy.

Anynerd then we went to her dad’s house for some grub and family time. Which is always fun, especially since he floated the idea of us going to a Brown’s game. We headed to the big bird for some quick fix to a food for the next day problem. Then we came home made sure to dvr the roast of Hasselhoff and I watched the end of Summerslam.

She went to bed pretty early and I stayed up writing and then doing the dishes.
Don’t ask.

Then I wrote out a post card to send to my Uncle who is in jail. It’s been a while since wev’e talked and I wanted a quick way for him to get something to know I’m thinking of him.

How was your weekend?

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Short and sticky post it note tuesday

April 13, 2010

Go read others here:

and make your own here.

Let’s just jump right on into these post it notes shall we?

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Now I’m not saying all directors are weird people, just a majority some of them. I had a glimpse into the trials and tribulations directors had to deal with. The production wasn’t a major one but was hard work. The wifey and I weren’t weird directors but there are plenty of em out there.

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The wife and I made a great team of directors. If need be we could be good cop bad cop. Here of course being bad cop. We handled things on the fly and it turned out pretty rocking. We were just like the Coen brothers if you know if one of them was a girl and they were having sex.

What?

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I won’t lie I enjoyed wearing the directing hat but writing the play is wear my heart remains. I’d be open to doing it again someday though.

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The Hoff hosted Monday Night Raw last night and was awesome. This post it pretty much speaks for itself.

That’s all a short list today because I didn’t write them the night before and I’ve got a lot of things to do today.


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