How about a big Fink thumbs-up.
You know how they have Farm Town and Mafia Wars and Fairyland on Facebook? I say developers should come up with a wacky new app. Call it High School Theater.
Hey, I need a lead who’s not sick. Anyone got one?
Yo. I need a swine flu vaccine over here. Hit me up. Willing to trade.
Wouldn’t that be fun?
For the first time in our careers, Stoney and I are being forced to at least have a conversation about postponement (NOT PLANNING ON IT — you know how rumors get started in our little village — just discussing it). We’re not like other, bigger, likely Kool Kid schools. No such thing as understudies out here in Hooterville. Haven’t spoken at length with our boss about it yet, but since we have one lead already sick, and who knows who in the on-deck circle, life could get really interesting around about Tuesday. My boss has a line when crazy things are going on in the office: “Don’t you wish you were me?” I think I can speak for Stoney and ask all Finkites the same question.
So today is the marathon tech rehearsal. All you theater types out there know what kind of a day lies ahead. Coffee and donuts at 8; rehearsal at 9 until 3. Various and sundry meltdowns in all manner of style and intensity. Three directors pulling out their hair (and one really can’t afford that). Sound, lights and full costumes for the first time. Bliss.
And speaking of donuts…gotta get ready so I can be at the bakery at 6:30 to pick ours up.
But hey, look on the bright side. At least it’s pouring down rain and 40 degrees outside. THUMBS UP!
Have a good Saturday, fiends. I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward quite so much to coming home from school and being chained to the box. Heh.
Fink, locating the raincoat
Last night was Beggars Night in our town, from 6 – 7 p.m. On my way home from school (a rare night with no rehearsal), I hit the Wally and stocked up on trick-or-treat candy to give out with my sis Mavis and daughter Simone, who were going to stop by for coffee and a cluck, and to help feed the little beggars in their costumes.
We had roughly 250 treats to give away. We ran out in exactly 22 minutes.
I wish I’d taken photos to show you the enormity of it all. I suppose it goes with living on one of the longest (if not *the* longest), easiest to walk, heavily populated and well-lit streets in town. The houses are all equally accessible; no driveways or long front sidewalks to navigate in order to get to the door, and the homes are conveniently close together and close to the street (more bang for the begging buck).
Here is a picture of my street, taken during a snowstorm a while ago. It’s a typical old avenue with houses built at the turn of the 20th century. Anyway, everyone came to our door — everyone. Twenty-two minutes later, Simone gave out the last of the candy and we had to shut down operations. Amazing. Poor lil goblins.
Next year I’m taking video. I swear you haven’t seen anything like it in years.
Best part of the evening was seeing Jake and Justin. Justin’s bug costume had to come off in order for him to fit in his car seat (Hannah has pictures, though). Jake was a monkey, albeit too tired to cooperate with posing for a picture with the hood on. But I think you can gather the cuteness factor without it:
All right, I’m out. Buying treats again this morning — my vocal jazz ensemble helped me sort some data yesterday for my delightful curriculum project. I owe them.
…what never came. That’s all right, though. I’ll just get ready and go to work like all of you.
I took this photo at rehearsal a couple of weeks ago. Girls lying on the hard, cold floor but still having fun. I remember those days. Whether it was sitting/lying on the floor or huddling outside in the freezing cold at recess, we just loved being together. I hate to admit it, but I don’t see myself lying on the uncomfortable tile floor now. Ouch.
For those who know him, this has “George” written all over it. Why are my students so weird?
This sign is actually posted on the bathroom door at school. The faculty bathroom door at the high school.
Is this really what we’ve come to? I can remember a day when seeing something like that on a public restroom door would annoy and offend. You know, like now. It ranks right up there with the little keep-the-product-dry silicone packets that prominently warn, “DO NOT EAT.” Or the labels that say, “Remove lid before attempting to pour product.” And the incessant dumbing down runs rampant. I know you know examples of this. If I had time, I’d search some out. But alas, as REO Speedwagon once crooned: I believe it’s time for me to fly.
Fink out — but not down. The show is shaping up.
PS – check out the cartoon PK sent to me. Cute. And have I ever mentioned that “music” is not a verb? One of these days, Alice…
Random Neuron Firings
Andre Agassi must not care about titles that might be retroactively revoked. The fact that the world now knows he lied in 1997 to tennis officials about taking crystal meth doesn’t seem to bother him. Meh. Thumbs up to another reason why pro sports/entertainment figures should not possess role model status.
What bothers me is a memoir written in present tense. “So then my manager calls me and says…” Ugh. Forget attacking Agassi. Shoot his editor.
I think Donny Osmond has one of the most amazing crooner voices of all time. Stunning.
One down, 81 to go. Come on, boys.
FOX News is biased. So is MSNBC. Get over it. I mean, be honest. When was the last time you heard a person say to the raving maniac on the other side of the political fence: “Oh, yeah, you’re right. I see what you’re saying. Point for you”? I ask you (rhetorically), how often does the Right say, “The libs have a point”? Or vice-versa? My point is, and no minds were changed. People are exceptionally passionate about their political views. I’m passionate about mine, you can believe it. You just won’t find me trying to beat it into the psyche of the other side, because it generally doesn’t work. Why? Because the other side won’t see your reasoning, no matter how salient and simple you think it is. That’s probably the biggest struggle for some folks. I’ve seen conservatives and liberals alike hold the sides of their heads and wonder why the other side can’t process simple logic. So what if the facts are right in front of their faces? They still won’t get it. They’ll follow so-and-so and thing-and-thing like sheep anyway.
I’m not bashing the politically zealous, mind. Nor am I poo-pooing political discourse, because I know it shapes a nation. I do think we should cleave to what we think is right and just and good for our country. I just think it would be really nice if everyone agreed on exactly what that was. *sigh* “Pollyanna! Time fer dinner!”
And that is all for today. I love having the early morning off. Time for some Dunkin Donuts coffee and I dunno…mebbe some ham.
Now that’s more like it. A temporary reprieve; a calm before the tornado hits. Relief.
Orchestra rehearsal yesterday — even with the missing 2nd trumpet player, the bass player having to leave to help with preparations for his grandfather’s funeral, and the drummer turning around en route in order to take his daughter to the emergency room — was fantastic. I told Lars on the way home that I don’t know why I always worry about this particular day, since the players are wonderful (who else do you know who can sight-read an entire Broadway book, while at the same time dealing effortlessly with my maniacal cuts in the score?) and everyone is just Nice People. Best of all: I received a text message from my drummer saying that his daughter is going to be OK.
Seamus’s feast was downright dandy. It is surreal to me that he is entering his 30th year, when it seems like yesterday that I was rocking him to sleep, reading to him, playing cars with him…tempus fugit. I want to give a huge public thank-you to my most awesomely awesome sister, Mavis — she took on the lion’s share of the prep work yesterday while I was out playing around on the piano. She made sure it was another boffo event at the Finkhouse. Great fun!
And now, alas, it is Monday. I cannot phreeking believe it.