some enchanted evening

Tonight is opening night for my latest theatre endeavor, Some Enchanted Evening at Huntington Playhouse. It's a musical revue for those of you who don't let the lack of a plot get in the way of a good 90 minutes of Rodgers & Hammerstein enjoyment. The orchestra consists of a piano, electronic keyboard (me), and percussion, accompanying an ensemble of five excellent vocalists.

It runs for four weekends:

Thu, Aug 14 ; Fri, Aug 15 ; Sat, Aug 16
              Fri, Aug 22 ; Sat, Aug 23
              Fri, Aug 29 ; Sat, Aug 30
              Fri, Sep 5  ; Sat, Sep 6  ; Sun, Sep 7

In addition to that we have four pre-sold bought houses on Thursdays and Sundays. So yes, I will be very much occupied for the next month. On the days I'm not at Huntington -- and even some of the days I am -- I'm rehearsing Company at Cassidy Theatre. Now you understand why I want a year off. After Company I have a few scattered gigs, then the show at Magnificat High School like I did last year.

So... yeah. See you at Thanksgiving.

2009: The Year of the Hiatus

fingernails 2

Remember how I planned to Get My Sh!t Together Before I'm 30? So far I have achieved three of the seven goals:

1. I got a raise in February, which allowed me to...
2. ...move out of my parents' house.

And my latest accomplishment?

6. I stopped chewing on my fingers. No, really! I think I've really done it this time. I've tried many different methods, but this last one has finally stuck. It took a little analysis of why and when I was doing it.

No, it wasn't stress, which is what people initially assume (less stress after moving out on my own?). I apparently had this habit of grooming my nails with my teeth, so if there was a rough spot, or a bur, or a speck of dirt, there went the fingers into the mouth to fix it. That was a gateway activity to chewing on the nail and the area around it, then "grooming" the other nails in a similar fashion, and before you know it, my nails were gone and I'd ingested approximately 2,539,584,680 microbacteria.

In the post linked above, I mentioned how I tried putting a green sticky note on my computer screen to catch my eye and make me aware that I most likely had a finger in my mouth at that time. Being consciously aware of it helped, but only mildly, because after all, I did want to fix that bur.

My previous record was four weeks, I believe last year sometime, when I was using aversion therapy. When I caught myself chewing my fingers, I'd slap my hand. I also tried using an emery board to smooth the nail. I noticed that if the nail was smooth, I didn't feel compelled to "groom" it with my teeth. That worked until I decided I was cured and started allowing "just a little," "just this one time" for little things, without the slap. I also didn't carry an emery board or nail file with me, so that tactic was only mildly successful.

Building on that knowledge, when I was on vacation last month I was talking about this with Laurie, who had been kind enough to yell at me when I was caught chewing my fingers. She said sometimes if she doesn't have a nail file handy, she'll rub her nails on jeans as a temporary fix. So I tried that.

And I haven't chewed my fingers now in over a month.

Does rubbing the nail on jeans really work? Sometimes. But even if not, it has a placebo effect: It tricks my brain into believing I'm fixing the problem (the bur or rough spot), and it requires me to remove my fingers far from my mouth to do it -- with the "slap" method, my hands would still be up near my face, ready to find their way back amongst the dental area. And once the nails were long enough, I could clean out dirt using the other nails, so there went that problem too.

Now I feel no compulsion to groom the fingers with my teeth at all. I don't even look at them nearly as often, and when I do, there is no impulse to chew on them. And ironically, that has relieved some stress. Yes that's right: Chewing fingernails was a stressful activity.


As for the other GMSTB30 goals, I did leave a space in my apartment's living room for 4. a drawing desk, but until I'm completely unpacked I don't yet have room for it (yeah yeah, excuses excuses). Once that is in place, I will focus on 3. working on my comic strip every day. That should be easier during 2009: The Year of the Hiatus.

My gigs in 2008 have been fun, but time-consuming as usual. I'm scheduled through November, then I'm taking a year off from theatre and music (so he says) so I can have my evenings and weekends back. Aside from getting some employment- and career-related things in order, 2009 also intends to be The Year of the Roller Coaster, with brief trips to some new amusement parks and a couple old favorites. Stu is on a bit of a coaster embargo at the moment, on account of just moving to a new house and having a child plus another on the way, but through special circumstances we're darting over to Waldameer tonight after work to ride Ravine Flyer II, which holds the distinction of being the only wooden coaster in my top 10.

Well, this post is far longer than I intended, so I'll stop now. Maybe in 2009 I'll finish the Vegas and NYC journals too.

the writing on the wall

The area beneath the stage of the Elyria High School auditorium not only includes dressing rooms, pieces of sets, props and costume closets, but also serves as a green room, where many students from years past have adorned the walls with their names. Often this takes place on a whim at the end of a busy day building and painting the set for a show, and when I was helping with Fiddler on the Roof my sophomore year, I was no exception. I painted "Bryan Bird '98" in small letters above the paper towel dispenser.

But no less than an hour later, I was informed by a senior that the "rule" was that only inducted Thespians were to leave their mark, and that while she personally didn't really care, others would. The two freshmen who also painted their names just sort of shrugged, but in my typical non-confrontational method, I rolled a layer of white paint over my name just to be safe.

At the end of my senior year, it turned out I had just enough points to become a Thespian, so I joined. But the school year was over, so I never had another show to work on and thus never painted my name on the wall. In addition, by this point all the "unwritten rule enforcers" were long gone, and pretty much anyone who felt like it was dressing up the green room with their John Hancock.

Since graduating, I have been in the green room many times while working with Elyria Summer Theatre, and often thought about finally posting my name, but I never had any paint handy and didn't think it was a big deal. But this being the 10th anniversary of my graduation, and with the auditorium being torn down soon for the new high school, on the closing day of Little Shop of Horrors I decided it was time. There's a semi-permanent monument stationed above the paper towel dispenser now, so I couldn't sign my name in the same place, and I used a silver paint pen rather than a brush, but it's close enough.

And thanks to the magic of camera phones, I can now share with you all:





Justice has been served. Take that, Class of '96 Thespians!