Light the lights. This is it, la la la la.

Here we go again. I think we’re as ready as we’re going to be. After being shorted almost two full weeks due to snow and ice, we finally closed the book on the 2011 Dinner Theatre rehearsal schedule.

I only achieved nuclear fission once, and that was last night. After the dust cleared, some students joked about wondering what was wrong, and why there was no director meltdown this show. Well I can’t disappoint my adoring fans, now can I? HA

I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Speekina…tomorrow’s shows are sold out. That’s a good sign. I think I’ll go throw up now.

Happy weekend!

FO

…there comes that special moment when he is physically tapped on the shoulder and told, “You have osteoarthritis.”

[Apologies to Churchill for the quote hijack.]

My doctor called me at school yesterday and gave me that good news. Said the x-ray showed pronounced “degenerative arthritis” where the femur meets the hip socket on the right side. Darn femurs anyhow. Anyway, we discussed some therapies that will hopefully delay the inevitable hip replacement for a while. Boo hoo. Bad news for tap dancer.

However, since telling the family and a few friends last night, I’ve received lots of thumbs-up comments about how hip replacement surgery ain’t what it used to be, and that recuperation times are faster now than in the past, and patients can resume active lifestyles in a matter of a few months, or even weeks. That’s good.

But…my plan is to not have to worry about that for a long time. Couple o’ years, if I can help it. Longer, even. Quien sabe?

So, fellow arthritis sufferers, what are your best methods? I have to ice the hip joint every night when I get home. Aleve, too. Next week, once Dinner Theatre’s behind me, I’m meeting with the doc to discuss other things we can do to keep the titanium ball joint monster at bay. Any extra ideas?

At any rate, the last 18 hours have been a paradigm-changer. I now have a keenly increased awareness of the simple privilege of being able to move, and will devote much more time to taking care of this rickety bod, since it’s the only one I have.

Hey, we open the day after tomorrow. Run away. On your good legs and hip joints.

Before I die, I want to ___________________.

I can’t remember where, but I saw a site that featured the work of an urban artist who painted that sentence dozens of times, in list form, on the side of an abandoned building . Chalk was provided in wire nests screwed into the wall, and people were invited to stop and write their responses. When the rains came, it was all washed away and it began again.

I thought it would be a fun experiment to run here. Responses can be serious, goofy, and numerous. Lurkers, get out your chalk.

List one thing you’d really like to do before you leave this world. Use the original “Leave a Reply” form, as opposed to the nested reply under the comment of someone else. That way, we won’t comment ourselves into a corner, and others can respond to individual comments without disrupting the page flow.

Production week, production week. What a crazy time. Hitting the showers, then not seeing home until 10:00 tonight.

So, before I die, I want to see my grandchildren grow up. What say you?

As I made some hot tea this morning, I said to myself, “It’s Sundaaaaaaay.” It brought back a memory of listening to WLS (Chicago) and WOKY (Milwaukee) radio stations as a kid, and hearing the commercial announcer say, “Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!”, after which he would inform listeners about upcoming drag strip races.

I was curious about who started that particular pop-culture oddity. We’ve all said it at some point; how did it become such a phenomenon? A little digging brought up a man by the name of Jan Gabriel.

NPR, among others, did a tribute to Gabriel after his death a little over a year ago. Take a listen from All Things Considered:

~
What sticks out in my memory is the line, “‘Big Daddy’ Don Garlits and the Little Red Wagon!” I don’t know who else drove in all those drag races, but it seemed “Big Daddy” Don Garlits was at every one of them. I wish I could remember more names; some of them were funny.

The name “Rat Fink” is related to drag racing. That’s also funny, because the only dragging I’m doing is to the kitchen for some more tea — slowly. Much to do this day, the most of important of which is seeing Justin and Jake for a few moments for brunch. Yay for me!