Plans Gone Awry.....WIN!!!!!

Yesterday Lisa and I planned to drive to Loris, South Carolina to watch John in his final marching band competition. The weather was iffy, well, more like definitely crappy with rain pouring down at regular intervals, but in the past the schools had moved the show into a gymnasium in bad weather, so we thought nothing of it.

We've developed a little tradition while traveling to John's band competitions. Lisa and I like road trips, and these things tend to bring us to places we've not been before. We drop John off at his school early in the morning so he can practice and ride the band bus to where ever. His group usually performs in the late afternoon, so we have plenty of time to amuse ourselves during the day. We've gotten in the habit of leaving home early enough to explore the area hosting the competition a bit, and we try to find some local, interesting place for lunch. One of our favorite finds last year was in Conway, South Carolina on our way to Loris. We planned yesterday to revisit this little cafe, Crady's.

All was going just according to plan, we were sitting at a nice window seat in Crady's looking at the really cool community theatre building across the street when I got a call from John telling us the competition was canceled and the band was heading to Planet Fun instead. So we ended up driving quite a ways for lunch (which was GREAT, by the way), but we still had until early evening before we needed to retrieve the boy. No problem, we thought, we'll just drive around and check out Conway then head home and cuddle up under a blanket until John was done.

While we were there, though, we decided to go across the street and look a little more closely at this theatre, The Theatre of the Republic. We'd seen it the year before as well when it was running The 39 Steps a week after our own closed. This time Young Frankenstein was the feature. While we were looking in the windows the door popped open and a nice lady invited us in to look around. We said, sure, we'd love to see the inside and went on in.

Well, before you know it, this little old man came up, Lisa tells him I'm the president of Brunswick Little Theatre in Brunswick County, and he says he'd love to show us around. I was hoping to see the seating area, which we did, but then he proceeded to walk us up on stage, through a sliding hidden door in the back and proceeded to show us the whole building. It was great, the place is the Tardis of theaters, it's about 12 times the size inside as it is outside. I was blown away, I have theater envy, bad. Our friend Jen took us backstage at Thalian Hall a few weeks ago, and that was impressive, but this little 325-seater has MORE space backstage than that! They have a huge scenic workshop, a big kitchen/hang-out room, make-up rooms, costume storage and workshops, dressing rooms with showers (separate from the make-up rooms) and prop storage everywhere. They've been in this facility a while, so it's like a museum of all their past shows. Lisa was dying for a camera.

The fireplace opens up. It's cool.

In talking to our tour guide, we find the Theatre of the Republic is celebrating 45 years next year, and HE was on the original board! Kind of explains why no one questioned the two strangers wandering through the back stage area 45 minutes before curtain. He was a little, as Lisa said, light on the facts. "When did you move in here?" "Oh, a while ago." "How'd you come into this place?" "Oh, it just opened up." But he was a great tour guide anyhow and showed us everything we could have asked to see and more. Including two racks containing probably at least 80 tuxedos that had just been donated. Why doesn't that happen to US?!?!?

On our way out, we were deposited in front of the ticket booth to sign up for the email list. The FABULOUS guy manning the ticket booth was in the middle of a rant about the huge pain in the ass that is cast and crew comp tickets. The audience for this rant was a woman who, I discovered to my great delight, was wearing a "Frau Stage Manager" shirt. We bonded. We got on the email list. We made plans to invite friends back to see Gypsy this summer. We left a bit exhausted and with heads a-spin just as the audience was beginning to arrive. I love the theater community.

We headed home and realized that our change in plans meant we could go to the first meeting/rehearsal for Brunswick Little Theatre's Fezziwig's Ball and Murder Mystery (tickets on sale now!). We went to our own little theatre, we danced, we discussed costumes, we got assigned characters (I'm Mr. Fezz himself and very pleased about that; Lisa is Mrs. Cratchet), we discussed how to fit all that we do into our space that seemed so huge just a little while ago, and we left smiling and happy and looking forward to the future.

Opening Night

Well, it happened.

That wasn't completely guaranteed at all, a fact that kept me up nights for the last couple months. Oh, I put on a brave face, I played my role as fearless leader telling everyone not to worry, that the show WOULD go on. I sold tickets with only the vaguest notion of how I'd refund them if disaster befell us. Most of all, I simply did something very hard for me and completely, willfully buried my self-doubt. Call it the power of positive thinking if you will, but I convinced myself that somehow I'd stop anything or anyone that tried to prevent us from opening this past Friday night.

We did it. After a lot of work by really a very few people, we did it. Lisa and I went to the first show in front of a (pretty much sell-out) paying audience. I saw it happen, saw the patrons arriving and picking up tickets and entering the theatre. We saw them enjoy the really comfy seats, saw them enjoying the company of friends and then enjoying the show and leaving happy. It should have felt......triumphant maybe? I mean, it was a long road, a bit of a fight actually, and I'd been building this night up as a sort of final battle, a chance to walk away with a win or a lose. But it wasn't. It was totally anti-climatic. I didn't walk out happy about all we've done, I left worried sick, still, about all we have left to do.

I've written before about all that needed to be done. It's not over in the way I expected it to be. Not by a long shot. I'm still going to be losing sleep over contractors and their bizarre sense of time and space, inspectors that may or may not come visit, permissions we may or may not need or have and another show coming up in just 14 days (and we still have another weekend of this one to get through).

 Now to be honest there are a lot of positives to list right now. The work paid off. They came and left happy. I've heard noting but praise for the venue from patrons. They love the seats, the lobby, even the parking. They were able to hear and see from all their seats. They were able, except a couple of ladies whose GPS led them to the ILA Hall up the road, to find us with no problems. Those with, ahem, mobility issues, were able to use the handicapped ramp easily. Our lobby easily held the crowd until the house opened. It's a GREAT place to see a show, much better than anywhere we've been outside of the main theater at Odell Williamson Auditorium. It's safe and comfortable, which a lot of our past venues were not. So hooray us.

The problems come from the performance side and the matter of permitting and inspections. I'm just confused by the whole permitting process, so I'll leave that aside. But the performance issues have me a bit worried.

In two weeks the Hermit of Fort Fisher opens and we need to have our lovely Southern beauty parlor turned into a cement bunker on a sandy spit of land at the southern tip of Pleasure Island. I've seen both the real bunker in question and the set used by the company putting this show on in their own space, so I know it can be done. However, I don't know how. I have a meeting with the Hermit director hours before we are scheduled to strike the Steel Magnolias set to determine what needs to go, what needs to stay and what pieces of the set can be left hanging around to await transformation into the beach and bunker. I'm hoping to have our Techincal Director at this meeting to start discussing tech needs for the Hermit show, because there are some and I'm not sure how they will be met. Are you sensing the pattern here? I know enough to know what needs to be done, but not enough to figure out how to do it. It's frustrating the Hell out of me. One condition of our lease of this theater to the Hermit people was a stage exit out of sight of the audience. This meshed nicely with the ADA requirement for a handicapped egress from the stage and will take the form of a ramp outside the building. I'm stressing out having this thing done in time, as it was promised to both the government and the leasees. So I've been stopping by the property every afternoon to ride herd on the contractors, who, in a very troubling way, remind me very much of Larry, Daryl and Daryl from The Newhart Show. I lose sleep over this.

Here's what the REAL bunker looks like. I imagine there was less graffiti in the Hermit's time

Then, less than two weeks after the last Hermit show, we have an event that may utilize the entire property at once. Our annual Fezziwig Ball has turned into a Fezziwig's Ball and Murder Mystery The ball and mystery part will take place in the same theater as the two shows have, but without the chairs present. I'm not sure where to put 100 chairs, especially as I'm not 100% sure how we'll be using the rest of the property. Our original plan, and the one we've been promoting, calls for a Children's Victorian Christmas Party in one of our two classroom buildings and a Victorian Food Court in the outside area between the main theater and the classrooms. It all sounded great when we planned it, and I really would still LOVE to see it come off as planned, but it's going to be an adventure. The chairs can go, for temporary, any of several places, that's not too big a problem. It will just depend on what space we use for children's stuff. But one thing I wasn't counting on was the transformation of the kitchen I suspect was supposed to play some role in the food prep situation into a lighting/technical workshop. Cooking anything more complicated than boiled water in there right now would be impossible. I saw all this work and thought how great it was our Frank the Tech Guru had found room to play until it dawned on my how close the Fezz Situation was. Now, again, this isn't a solution-less problem, it's actually a pretty easy solution, simply pick up all the equipment and tools and parts and control panels and send them back from whence they came. But it is just one more thing it never dawned on me would need to be done. I am finding I am not as good at thinking things through as I like to think I am.

Add to the mix the fact that while all this is going on we have two plays rehearsing and a children's workshop in full swing and you have one very busy theater manager with a very full brain. And a very complicated Google Calendar.

I'm wondering if I bit off more than we could chew to finish off the year. I mean, it WAS me who pushed for all this, so if it ends up turning into a train wreck, I'll take the blame, but I still think I would do it the same way if I got a chance to try again. I would rather fail from trying too much than fail from not trying enough. If this theatre wasn't being used this much, I think it would hurt us in the long run. I think also that while we are pushing the limits of our volunteer base, we are learning a valuable lesson. We need to know if we have the enthusiasm among our "BLT family" to make this place work long term. If this year ends as a train wreck, if we can't pull off all these projects, we will know that the support for a place of our own simply may not be there in anything but lip service. We've all TALKED about how we need to have our own place, but BLT needs to see how many people are willing to work to make it happen. If nothing else, I've unintentionally devised a great first test of that question.

Dickens Diary 4....Being Uriah Heep

It's getting close to Dickens Festival time, just two days I guess, and I'm finding myself nervous. I'm not worried about anything to do with the Fezziwig's Ball part, though it's much more important to many more people. We had another vocal rehearsal Sunday and I left more confused than I arrived, but that doesn't bother me. These are a very talented group of people and it'll come together and sound good once we get there and moving along. For my part, I feel fine singing along with the group now and there are plenty of people there who DO know what they are doing so I don't feel any personal pressure. The dance part will be great, I'm certain. This isn't a recital, either vocal or dance, it's an attempt to portray a workplace Christmas party in Victorian times. We aren't supposed to look like professional dancers or even Victorian-era socialites who dance every weekend.  We are Mr. Fezziwig's employees and employees' families. We are bookkeepers and salesman and stay at home moms and bratty little kids. We are people who may at most do this kind of dance maybe once a year, at Old Man Fezziwig's party. We are out for the night having fun with our friends and blowing off a little steam. We've all probably had a little too much punch, even the kids. So if we miss steps or turn the wrong way in the dance, it isn't a bad thing, it's part of the show. The songs are more important to get right because they are going to lead to a judgement of Brunswick Little Theatre in the eyes of many visitors (oops, "dance guests"), but I'm not worried. We'll sound fine. And our last song is Oom Pah Pah (watch a video here so you can learn the chorus before you come, it's easy) and will certainly be a crowd pleaser and have everyone leaving singing. I am sure of that one. The logistics of putting this thing together have been frustrating and the rules of the game have been annoyingly fluid, but it's nothing we can't deal with and have a show that works and everyone enjoys. No worries from me about Fezziwig's Ball.

Uriah from the movie I watched. Yep, cheated :)

Love this guy's expression. I need to practice a good sneer

I am finding myself getting very nervous about portraying Uriah Heep as a wandering character actor. I've said I love a costume and they tend to lend me confidence; I've said it'll be like a murder mystery party; I've said I'm anxious to open new doors and try my hand at something new. All these things are true, but they only go so far towards allaying my fear of leaving my comfort zone. They call it a comfort zone for a reason; outside of it may be rewarding in the end, but it's by definition uncomfortable getting there. From what I understand the other actors are actually practicing actors, even if amateur. The guy playing  Marley's ghost turned in a performance as Uncle Henry in Wizard of Oz last summer that was simply fabulous. Even the children will largely have done this sort of thing before, I think. I get that this isn't a contest, but I don't want to embarrass myself in comparison to these other people.

I won't have nearly as much red hair as this Uriah, if I go that route :)

I don't know how you learn how to act. I know there are acting classes, and lots of them, but I haven't a clue what might go on there. I'm thinking it's pretty much pretending to be someone else well enough that what's in your own imagination transfers to the audience. Costuming is a tool to help with that, and I guess a really important one for the amateur like me. I'm fortunate to have a really good looking outfit, complete with top hat (I love hats). I just bought black shoes and socks today, so I think I'm complete. I learned how to tie the neck cloth correctly, too. It's funny, but this costume has been torturing me. I'm having a hard time knowing it's in the closet and not wearing it around. I'm weird that way, but rest assured since I got the shoes and the whole ensemble is together now, I'll be putting it on tonight. I am seriously thinking I'm going to try to dye my hair red as well. Uriah has red hair as a sort of trademark. I don't have the complexion for red hair, too dark, but Uriah is supposed to be ugly, so maybe that will work in my favor. I'm also going to sport a fine set of mutton chops. I've been growing a beard for a month now and it's satisfyingly thick, so I'm thinking the chops will be a nice addition. Funny thing, today, after a month, was only the second time a person (other than Lisa) mentioned my new beard to me. I wasn't expecting compliments, I don't get those on my looks, but I was sort of expecting at least some ribbing about it from friends and co-workers. Nuthin'. Odd, that.

I think that this being Victorian England, I should have some sort of accent. The problem with that is I fear an accent done horribly bad may be worse than none at all. On the other hand, Dick Van Dyke's in Mary Poppins is hilariously bad and it works just fine. This is one area where my inexperience will show. I think "doing" accents just takes practice. I've been listening to podcasts of the BBC RadioOne morning show and hoping that an accent will sort of accrue to me through some sort of audio osmosis. Hey, stranger things have happened. Worst comes to worst, I just drop all my H's :)

It would help to pretend believably to be someone else if you understand who that person is. There's a term for trying to "be" another person when you act, but I don't remember it. This will be an exercise in improvisation, I'm thinking, more than anything else. The "script" I have isn't so much lines to memorize as a rough outline of what makes Uriah tick written in the first person. I think I understand Uriah. He's a caricature, which makes things easier. Uriah, to me, is the Victorian equivalent of the Occupy Wall Street crowd in modern times. He had a rough time growing up and so he feels perfectly entitled to the fruits of other people's labor. He doesn't see what he does by way of embezzling or blackmail as morally wrong because he is simply taking what should be his in what he deems "fairness." His chosen weapon to help steal his way to what is his rightful station is insincere humility backed by extreme nastiness when he is confronted. He is created to be over the top with his humility and over the top with his venom when backed into a corner. He hates those better off than himself and really resents David Copperfield for becoming what he wishes to be and doing it within the rules of society and morality. I don't think you can over-act either his insincerity or his hate, which makes things easy on me. I'm not ready to act subtlety. Hell, I can't handle that  in real life.

So wish me luck in this new adventure. Give me the benefit of the doubt and a little extra help from your own imagination if you run across me this weekend. I'm hoping last night was the last anxiety dream I have about this, but I'm not counting on it ;)

Dickens Diary 3....Great Expectations

I've never had them.

Ta Da. This stupid thing has caused untold confustication :(

Have I had high hopes? Yes. Dreams? Surely. I dream and hope and fantasize and wish as much or more than anyone I know, but expectations are a different matter. That's not to say I'm a slacker. I feel I've had a pretty good idea of what I'm capable of and have done very well with my skill set. I knew very well I could move here from PA and set up a life. I had Lisa with me and she makes me feel very confident. I knew we could have a forever marriage and raise a family. We're a great team and we both had very good role models in that regard. I took a job based 100% on commission because I've always known I will do what I have to do to bring home a paycheck. The big things I know I have under control and I am narcissistic enough to rarely ever doubt that I always will. Maybe it's because I'm so fortunate in the things that matter most that I don't expect much "icing on the cake."

 Great Expectations can lead to disappointments. One thing I'm NOT good at is sports. I tried a lot of them growing up with no success. My Little League baseball team never won a game, may not have scored, and the coach made fun of the way I ran. Our soccer team lost all of its games and I do remember we did score one goal in one game. I remember because I didn't even know it had happened until I asked what all the excitement was about. I tried basketball thinking my height would be an asset, but again, we never won a game and I sat on the bench most all the time. Not surprisingly, I was pretty much the last picked in gym class or the playground. It didn't really bother me, I'd just learned not to expect any different. I didn't expect my team to win, or score. I didn't expect to make any sort of contribution. Sports just wasn't my thing. I did still know what I COULD do, though, I was perfectly comfortable in the water. I was a fully certified SCUBA diver before I was old enough the drive.

The arts were another area I never developed any expectations of success. We had a downright evil art teacher in the latter part of elementary school that made sure I knew I had zero talent in that area. But it wasn't a disappointment because I had no expectations there. From the earliest days I was no good with the visual arts thing. My friends didn't want me using their coloring books because I scribbled. I couldn't stay in the lines with my crayon like the other kids, so I didn't even try. Playdough was for making snakes. Period. And I hate snakes. I was in the church children's choir but in the back and off to the side where I couldn't do any damage. I even joined the bell choir, but ended up being entrusted with only one bell and even then the director had to pause in her conducting and point at me when she wanted me to bong the thing; I was lost.  I took up the trombone in 4th grade after the band guy came in and gave an assembly showing us all the different instruments we could learn. I had meant trumpet, but wrote trombone. Whatever, I didn't expect to be able to do it, so what difference did it make? I was in a small class with two of us, me and Doug Miller. Doug was a musical prodigy. I struggled for about four months trying to learn three notes and then gave up. I eventually took a photography class in high school and that's been my "artistic" outlet ever since. Recently I've started mucking about with Photoshop and fooling myself that THAT is "art."

I don't mean to be complaining here, I have been perfectly happy living within what I know I can do and do well. Controlling expectations leads to minimizing disappointment, right? I don't get jealous of the people who can hit a baseball at the picnic (I struck out at wiffleball at a work picnic once), or sing or dance or play golf once in a blue moon and still score less than 120. I enjoy them for what they are and remain happy with what I am, in my comfort zone. That is until this year.

Munchkin Houses :)

I've written before about how our involvement with the Brunswick Little Theatre has opened new doors for our whole family. For the first time ever I am participating in "the arts." It's not a new thing for the rest of my family, Lisa sings in the church choir and John plays trombone (how fitting, huh?) in the school band, but it's new to me and definitely moving away from my comfort zone.  Whether it was on purpose or not I'll never know, but Jen couldn't have drawn me out more expertly. She played to what I knew I could do with the stage manager job. She was very vague about her expectations at the start and let me grow and learn my way into the role. It worked. On opening night she gave her director's pep talk and announced she was turning it over to her stage managers. She sat in the audience during shows, watching her creation in the hands of others. I was one of three stage managers, the other two much more experienced than myself. On that opening night, after Jen had taken her place out in the house, one of the other stage managers came to me and asked if Jen really wasn't going to be back stage, was this show REALLY all up to us now? She was terrified by the idea, and she has a degree in Theatre Arts and has stage managed many, many shows. And there I was, totally new and inexperienced, waiting to see a curtain open from the stage side of things for the first time in my whole life, and I was well within my comfort zone. That comfort zone had actually grown. I had grown. I had broken rules I had for myself for years and years. It's a small thing, a very small thing, but I had painted two of the three munchkin house roofs. Mrs. Dunleavey, the art teacher witch at North Wales Elementary, would have had a coronary. I had learned how to paint a set piece, not like a pro for sure, but well enough to be proud of, I think, because Jen's expectations are greater than mine. The houses started out as a part of our parade float. Jen wasn't at all happy with them. I thought they were fine, not because I'd helped paint them and was happy with my work, but because I figured it was an amateur production, it was a set for a scene full of little kids and I was as usual willing to settle for what was easy and quick and already done. Jen wasn't. She said we re-paint the Munchkin houses because they didn't look as they should. I took a deep breath, shut my mouth and tried again with the thatch roofs. Jen watched and corrected and watched and judged and set me to it again. She taught me like no one in my life had done before. She could have done it herself a thousand times better and much faster, but she didn't. She asked, well demanded, that I begin to learn how to use three colors of paint on plywood to make an audience see a thatched roof. It was the closest thing to "real art" I've ever done, and I am proud of it because it was finally good enough. It could have been better, but because Jen has real expectations, good enough is a compliment. There's a real lesson for me there, if my thick skull will let it in.

Now we come to the Charles Dickens Festival. After telling Jen I was happy to be involved with the theatre, but couldn't act, sing or dance, I find myself preparing to portray Uriah Heep, dance in front of an audience and help sing showtunes from Oliver! Once again, Jen drew me out of my happy place gently. She told me the character acting wasn't that much different than the murder mystery parties we'd done a few years back. She told me the dance was more walking around and clapping then really dancing. She just bluntly told me that I was going to join in the singing. A few years ago I'd have had no part in these things, especially trying to sing in front of people, but something's changed. I'm wondering if I don't set my bar too low. I'm wondering if I'm not just lazy. I'm wondering how much of a disservice I've done to myself allowing that laziness. It's been on my mind a lot this week.

I love having people in my life who accept me as I am. I try to be that to others, to remind them that they are great just as they are. But lately I've been challenged to be more than I was. It isn't always comfortable and I fight it sometimes. I have dismissed high standards people hold for themselves and others as "perfectionism," and that was wrong. Comfort zones are for lazy people and I'm going to try to break that habit. And I promise to try to help others do the same in the future. It's a big switch for me, but I have every idea that given time and maybe a few reminders I can maybe bring others the gift Great Expectations.

Dickens Diary 2....Fancy Dress

I sometimes listen to a pop station from England on Sirius, BBC RadioOne. I love to hear the differences between England English and American English, and one of them struck me as perfect for today's Dickens Diary. In England, apparently, putting on a costume for a party, such as at Halloween, is called getting into "fancy dress." I imagine this could cause all sorts of confusion, as in the newcomer from London asking if he should wear "fancy dress" to an American party and showing up to a formal decked out in full zombie glory. That's something that could very well happen to me.

Yesterday was Fancy Dress Day at our Fezziwig's Ball rehearsal, in both the American and English senses of the term. Jen brought piles of costumes from the Brunswick Little Theatre stockpile (as an aside, I REALLY want to tag along on one of Jen's trips to the BLT storage units. It sounds like an awesome place), and everyone sort of shopped around until they found something they liked that fit reasonably well. It was loud and chaotic and lots of fun. And we look GOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!

Lisa told me I had to smile. Uriah wouldn't smile like that

I love dressing up in costume and always have. I guess maybe it's the Halloween birthday thing manifesting. I've been very shy for most of my life, and even now am much more shy than most people realize. I don't enjoy large groups of people I don't know where I'm expected to socialize. But put me in a costume, and it's a whole different story, always has been. I'll say anything to anyone with no problem, because it isn't me doing it, so there's no pressure. If I screw it up, so what, it's someone else who gets the blame or the shame or whatever. That may not be actually the way it really is, I mean who doesn't know who it is under the costume, but in my head it works. I am confident when I'm pretending to be someone else. A psychologist could have a field day with that one.

I was really excited to see my outfit which will serve both for the ball and Uriah Heep. Jen told me she picked something out that was........."special" I think she finally came up with. It's an undertaker's costume from who knows what show, I forgot to ask. It has a jacket with ridiculously long tails and a white button- down shirt and a vest and a neck cloth (which I need to learn how to tie) and I found a huge top hat to top it off. I'm very pleased. I look good. Really good. In a serpentine, undulating, loathsome sort of way. Perfect.

Everyone else pretty much found something they liked. It was fun helping. One friend, Carolyn, just HAD to have a cape she saw hanging from a rack near the ceiling. That's where On My Toes keeps their costumes and we were welcomed to use them. I used a big stick to get it down and we found it came with a sword! Carolyn loved it even more knowing that. We found hoop skirts and pirate vests and magician capes and all manner of fantasical garments. I find I'm not the only one who likes playing dress up. The more I am around these theatre people, the more at home I feel. Even without a costume on.


For some pictures of rehearsal featuring costumes and dancing, but not at the same time, check out Pooh Stick's album

Dickens Diary

We had our first rehearsal for Fezziwig's Ball, our part of Southport's inaugural Charles Dickens Christmas Festival, yesterday. I wrote about taking part in this a few posts ago, and figured I'd follow the experience along on Pooh Sticks, you know, because it's my blog and I want to ;)

We were experiencing a "tropical weather event" yesterday, and from the sounds of it outside right now today as well. There had been some concern as to whether or not practice would go on, but it turned out to just be rainy and the show, such as it was, went on. We had a good turn-out, I thought, and I was happy to see some friends from our Wizard of Oz experience again. The associate pastor of our church and his wife also turned out, at the insistence of their grandson. I was really happy to see that, they are two of the nicest, most down to earth and fun people we know and I can't wait to share this with them. They are looking to expand their horizons, something I can totally relate to. I love to see people opening new doors.

We signed up for shifts at the party, requested costumes and volunteered to help with refreshments and decorating. We worked on our dance and I think learned it fairly well. It's very close to something I did during a rather unfortunate phys ed class in college. We laughed and danced around and bumped into each other and tried not to step on the toddlers weaving between our legs all the while. It was the kind of experience we expect from this group, and we loved it very much.

The wandering characters were discussed a bit and I asked about a script for Uriah Heep, but he hasn't got one yet. I'm very excited about that part of the Dickens weekend, but I have to say it reminds me of a thought I had in Disney. We were watching one of the parades go by, I think it was the random one we happened upon while trying to leave the Magic Kingdom on our last day, and I saw Terk, the gorilla from Tarzan. I got to thinking about how many people saw him and thought, "Who's the monkey?" I mean, Disney's Tarzan is a fine film, but not one of the classics or most popular by any stretch. I wondered how the guy inside there felt when he excitedly shared his news that finally he was going to be a "head character" in the parks (in a parade even!) with his friends and they asked who he was going to be. Would he be Donald? Goofy? A relatively minor character like FroZone or Mr. Smee? "Nope," he would say proudly, "I'm Terk." I wondered at the expressions on his friends' faces. Would they be so rude as ask who the Hell Terk was? Or would they congratulate him and wait til later to hit Google?

Terk. Know him, love him :)

In my case, I had only a vague idea of who Uriah Heep was myself when Jen brought up the idea of playing him, so when I tell people who I'm going to portray I always explain who he is. I have some rather more literary than average friends, so they catch right on. Don't misunderstand, I'm very happy with Uriah. I would pick a bad guy over a good any day, and playing someone less familiar takes a lot of the pressure of "getting it right" off my head. I'm not an actor, so that is a very good thing. But still, it reminds me of that guy in the monkey suit on the Disney parade float. I am sure it didn't matter to him who he played. He was at Disney World, he was in the parade, he was portraying a character that animators and writers spent months breathing life into. That's awesome and exciting and something to be extremely proud of. I knew who he was, after all, and when he went by I hollared out a "TERK!!!!". I really hope he heard me :)

Living Worlds and Amateur Imagineering

This afternoon I came across disneylivingworlds.com, where I read this--

Walt Disney Imagineering Research & Development wants to work with innovative storytellers willing to push the limits to create fully immersive worlds where guests can explore, play and discover deep narratives. To help us achieve this goal, we are excited to announce the Living Worlds program, through which we hope to support the development of a few unique concepts through collaborative project work.

Wow. Just wow. How exciting is that?

They used the term "transmedia" to describe a method of storytelling that takes the audience inside the story where they can interact with, and sometimes change, the story itself through the use of a variety of media and environments. This is what Walt Disney set out to do with his theme parks, tell a story in a fully immersive way. Everything in the Disney parks is about storytelling, even the rides start as storyboards, like a movie would. Walt Disney Imagineering is first and foremost a storytelling outfit. More from the website--

At Walt Disney Imagineering Research and Development, storytelling is in our DNA and we are always looking to advance this art form. We have developed the Living Worlds program to catalyze and support the transmedia community and continue to push the limits of immersive storytelling.

Apparently, there is a "transmedia community," who knew?  The closest thing I've seen to Disney-type immersive entertainment is the MagiQuest attraction in Myrtle Beach, and it was developed by former Imagineers from Disney. It looks like WDI is trying to draw out anyone else exploring this area and perhaps give them a hand, perhaps recruit them? It sounds like a recruitment tool to me, anyhow. And more power to them, I'd love to see what comes from this project. Participants must apply with an idea, then a few are selected for further fleshing out and development. The winner or winners, such as they are (this isn't billed as a contest by any means) will benefit from the brain trust at Walt Disney Imagineering to help bring their idea to life. Not financial help, but coaching and support, which coming from the Imagineers could be worth more than money. It's all very cool. I mean, "Living Worlds" has a ring to it without any explaination at all.

Of course my first glimpse at this program triggered my imagination and my sizable ego drove me to look at the submission guidelines right off the bat. Surely I could come up with an idea worthy of Walt Disney Imagineering. I got nuthin' if not ideas. Well, maybe this one's not so much for me. They want interactivity with ipods and smartphones and such and they want you to have a venue and resources and experience and be able to carry the whole thing off inside of a year. Reality popped that ego bubble. But I'm still very excited about this project and I hope there will be some way to find out how it turns out, if not follow along. I think that would be fascinating.

In the meantime, I'm not going to be disappointed I can't play in the majors with the Imagineers because I have my own bit of "immersive storytelling" coming up right here at home with my friends and neighbors. The next town over, Southport, is hosting a Charles Dickens Christmas Festival this year in honor of the author's 200th birthday. As I understand it, the idea is to turn the historic downtown into a Victorian Christmas village. The Brunsick Arts Council is organizing this whole thing and has gone whole hog, bringing in shows of every kind, from dance to theatre to concerts. They also promise "clowns, town criers, carolers, Dickens characters, puppet shows, story-telling, children's Victorian games and food!" It's going to be quite immersive, and I'm going to be immersed in it as a "cast member" so to speak :)

Our friend Jen, the same one who gave us our introduction to theatre work with the Wizard of Oz this past summer, was asked to organize a recreation of Fezziwig's Ball from A Christmas Carol, and Lisa and I will be party guests. The ball will be an on-going party that festival goers can visit and even participate in if they'd like. There will be dancing of a reel, caroling, and general Victorian merry-making. I'm taking a couple days off work to be able to help with the set-up and decorating and be able to participate both Friday and Saturday. We'll need to decorate our space, an old visitor center, and we may be selling refreshments. Lisa and I get to dress up and learn a dance (we have our first rehearsal Saturday) and be a part of the show. I'm excited to do something "theatrical" again and doubly so because Jen is such fun to work with. She's the closest thing to an Imagineer I've ever met.

But wait, that's not all! I mentioned "Dickens characters" a bit ago right? Well, I'm also going to be one of them--Uriah Heep, the villain of David Copperfield (Wikipedia calls him an "antagonist," but "Villain" sounds better, and more Disney). Jen was asked to help find someone "tall and gangly" for this role, and apparently I fit the bill. I'm not an actor by any means, but Jen tells me I'll just need to learn a few lines of script and ad-lib the rest as I interact with festival goers. We attended a few murder mystery parties Jen put together as fundraisers, and she says it will be a lot like that. We'll see. I've not read David Copperfield, nor even seen the movie, so I was at a bit of a loss as to who this Uriah Heep is. So I did what any responsible person would do and turned to Google. I found out that he is utterly repulsive physically and even worse personally. I found that on a list of male English literary characters rated on their "bangability" my man Uriah came in 110 out of 111. He was just one better than Frankenstein's monster. Uriah apparently goes on about his humbleness while stabbing everyone in the back to get ahead. I hope I'm not being typecast, but this guy sounds like he could be a lot of fun.

So I'm not going to be chosen to work with Walt Disney Imagineering to make the products of my fevered imagination come to life, but that's fine. Maybe I won't be discovered and hired to spend my life living my Disney dreams. But that doesn't mean I can't be my own Imagineer, helping to make a story come to life for friends and strangers in my way and in my own community. It's all about the story after all, and not just the stories we tell. I like to think of life as a story, one I can add to and embellish everyday. It's the ultimate immersive experience, and this story is getting better all the time.