Miscellaneous Mental Musings of an Emerging Artist
Yesterday, doing the intrepid producer thing for this show of mine going on this weekend, I sat in on rehearsal, created a prototype program, shot two digital photos for said program, and also drove my lead actor from the suburbs and to again, since he couldn’t come into the city with his back window shot out. I felt good. I felt like I was keeping several plates spinning. I liked it .
I got back to my neighborhood last night at 1:00 am, so there was no parking, as usual. However, I simply parked in a yellow, since the cops don’t ticket overnight, with the intention to move the car to a legal spot this morning when I awoke.
Whoops. Forgot to do so. Will leave work in an hour, frantically rushing home, hoping that the cops don’t ticket cars until noon. Probably do. Hopefully, car will at least not be towed. And then I have to rush back to work. I hate today, so far.
 In college, I loved producing. It was all problem-solving and crisis management. My favorite memory is that, during “Hostages in Holy Water,” we had to pick up so much lumber in a small coupe that I rode home in the trunk. When we stopped at traffic lights, I would bang at the interior and scream “Help! Help! They’re going to kill me!” Nobody seemed to notice. I wonder if they didn’t buy that sort of thing happening in Urbana, Illinois–or if it happened so much that nobody cared any longer. Brrr.
Current music: MP3 list, Steely Dan, “Jack of Speed”