The Comfy Corner

On the subway the other day I found myself amongst a sea of children. It wasn't a school field trip or anything, as is typical on the subway, no, it was just a very mom-and-children heavy train. One mom in particular really impressed me. She had three children. Two rowdy boys rode in on a two seater stroller and then proceeded to climb all over the crowded subway train like it was their jungle gym. Meanwhile, she had a newborn baby strapped to her chest. Hanging from the stroller were massive carabiners holding bottles, diaper bags, extra clothes, toys, shopping bags, and anything she might need to be successful in her day. She was soothing the baby on her chest while she was keeping her two boys in check. And the whole time she kept her cool and successfully calmed her rowdy boys. 

Here's the biggest problem that I've ever encountered in my young adulthood: I can't afford the lifestyle that I think I deserve. I'm a lush and I absolutely can't help it. I like taking cabs and surrounding myself with nice things. But, I'm poor. And yet, I keep trying to pretend like I'm not poor. Thus, I keep wasting my money on things that I don't really need like HD DVR packages and memory foam pillows. It's a recurring theme in my life right now. When I was younger (not much younger, let's be honest, like 18) I would watch the James Bond movies and drool over how luxurious 007's lifestyle was (I'd drool over Daniel Craig's body too, but that's for a different blog). He was always in a tailored tuxedo or beautiful slim fit suit, he was always drinking the best scotch, he was always in the nicest hotel rooms and he always had the fanciest cars. That's what I want! That's partially why I always drink gimlets and wear ties. Sometimes small things can make you feel really big. But recently the issue has escalated...

I essentially ordered the most expensive cable package available to a homeowner in NYC without really consulting with my room mate. I sort of told her how much it would cost but not really. I just really wanted DVR! And what's a DVR if it's not HD? And what's HD if you don't have On Demand and Showtime? This, to me, was a legitimate list of concerns. So after the cable was installed and my room mate found out how much our monthly bill was going to be, she called me and told me the most devastating news. We would have to downgrade cable plans. Yuck, I don't ever wanna hear that word, downgrade. Severely downtrodden, my room mate ripped the HD DVR box from my poor, wanting hands and took it back to the cable store. But then, a miracle happened! The woman at the cable store convinced her to keep the HD DVR box by cutting our monthly bill IN HALF! She even upgraded our box to a new one with more memory! Thanks Jessica, you saved my HD life!

And today, I was buying pillows at Bed, Bath and Beyond (the best place for a homebody to spend their time). I dejectedly picked up the ten dollar pillows telling myself to not even look at my other options. But then I saw the memory foam pillows at the end of the aisle and like Ginny Weasley in The Chamber of Secrets, I lost all control of my body and committed such evils. I ended up purchasing the most expensive pillows available. I reasoned that I spend a huge portion of my life sleeping, so I should obviously have the nicest pillows! Plus, sleeping is literally my favorite activity. When I wake up, I actually think to myself, "I can't wait until tonight when I get to go back to bed." But then, I was carrying these memory foam pillows through Washington Heights and I was getting the dirtiest looks from my neighbors. The looks that clearly said, "You rich douchebag living off of daddy's money." WHICH ISN'T TRUE! I WORK HARD FOR MY MEMORY FOAM PILLOWS AND MY DVR! So yeah, I need to cool it with the spending. But I have a kick ass cable plan now and I am going to sleep so well with zero neck problems. And those things make me happy. And isn't that our goal in life? Happiness? So stay lush y'all and stay comfy.

I've always considered my every day dealings and experiences to be nothing more than an elaborate journey toward myself. That's what acting skool tot me! We are constantly on a journey to become closer to our true selves. And I have never found this to be more true than when I visited one of the finest establishments in St. Petersburg, Florida: Georgie's Alibi. A gay club that boasts theme nights, drag shows, and, of course, a never-ceasing mix of bass bumping, ear-drum demolishing top 40 tunes. So what, you may ask, was unique about my experience in this particular homosexual establishment? It was the first gay club I've ever been to that had go-go boys. It's something I've always wanted to experience on this river of my life and I finally got to experience it! I walked in and was greeted by the man who my friends had been referring to all evening as "Mr. Perfect."

After being swept away to the depths of the rocky mountains for three and a half months and then hastily plopped back into the thriving metropolis of New York City without any sort of intermediary, I have quickly noted one key difference between small towns and big towns. In big towns, you can be as crazy as you want and nobody will care! I realized this on the subway upon my arrival. Usually I am very to-myself and subdued when I'm in public. I always get out of people's way and essentially try to make myself as small as possible so as to not end up with a gun in my face or on the hit-list for the mafia or something (It's probably also repressed fear of this girl I knew in middle school named Marquetta who would knock books out of my hands and shove me into the wall if I got in her way - but that's beside the point. I'm over that... sort of). I even go so far as to only do vocal warm-ups in the subway station if a loud train is passing by (nothing like a vocal sigh as the trains go by). But I realize now that I can do as much vocalizing as I want and nobody will say anything about it or even think it's that strange. I mean, my friend Elise has only been here a short time but has managed to see like three penises on the subway! Three!!! And people don't care! Someone could literally take a shit on a subway car and people would just sigh and change cars. I know this because that happened to me once. So if I do a few lip trillz or practice my riffing skillz on the subway, everyone will still keep their eyes to the floor and pretend that nothing is happening. I have officially granted myself full permission to be as crazy as I want.

In fact, being crazy can even have it's advantages. I would like to take a moment to reference an episode of "30 Rock" where Liz Lemon pretended to be a crazy woman on the subway so that she could get a seat. You don't mess with the crazies. You never know what they will do to you. So my advice to anyone visiting New York for the first time is this: If someone tries to mug you, just whip around and start making monkey noises, jump up and down, flail wildly and start shouting something like, "BANANAS WILL ONE DAY RULE THE WORLD!!!" maybe toss some flour in their face for dramatic effect. You must out-crazy the crazy and you will always win. It's not like small towns where people will actually remember or care. You'll probably never see them again and if you do, they probably won't remember you because you were just one more dose of crazy in a cray cray filled day day. And if you crazy, they will run. Stay comfy y'all.

So I think I've done enough greeting lines with enough companies now to have an opinion about them. We begin with a definition. The greeting line: the thing you do after a show where you thank the patrons for coming, shake hands, sign autographs, and take pictures. It's essentially the stage door of regional theatre! And I've officially decided that I am not a huge fan of them. I mean, I love talking to patrons and encouraging them to continue seeing theatre and what-not but the majority of the time it is just awkward. For both parties involved. It is awkward for the people who just saw the show because they are kinda overwhelmed and in a state of confusion where they are lost for words. Which is why you get comments such as,

"Wow, you can almost act, sing, and dance!"

"Is that a pillow under there or is that all you?"

"Those glasses aren't real!"

"You should consider doing this professionally!"

And that's just a select sampling. Don't get me wrong, most comments people make are genuinely heartfelt and lovely to hear. But every so often the comments are inappropriately hilarious or sometimes they can be kinda unintentionally mean. It's worse when you have to collect money in a basket at the greeting line. Because then you actually need something from them so you have people doing the avoidance smile-and-nod as they guiltily breeze past you. Also, at the theatre I'm currently working for, I've had the unique added frustration of people congratulating me for shows that my friend Anthony was in last summer and I was in fact not in. I usually just say thank you and pretend to be him for a second, but sometimes I have to explain that they have the wrong person. "We went to college together, he's a good friend of mine, we get confused all the time." Although, we don't look that much alike in my opinion. Maybe it's our Emerson training they are getting confused...

There is one greeting line situation that I love. And that is the greeting line for kid's shows. I get to feel like a rockstar and see all the cutest babies in the world at the same time! When I was with "Seussical" there was the cutest handicapped boy who came through the greeting line in a wheelchair and sang "How Lucky You Are" to us. If that doesn't make you cry then nothing will! There was also a kid that came up and handed me and my other Wickersham a banana because he thought we might be hungry. I could have died from the cuteness. Not to mention the hoards of kids dressed like the cat in the hat. I could sit in those kinds of greeting lines all day long. Otherwise, I'd rather change into my footy pajamas and crawl into my comfy corner with a bowl of mac and cheese. So whether you are in the greeting line, greeting people in the greeting line, or if you don't have to deal with this at all, stay comfy y'all.

"White, a blank page or canvas." These are the first words spoken by George in "Sunday in the Park With George." I've never really understood the depth of that first sentence until recently. There is nothing more magical than that silent moment before a band starts playing, the blinking cursor before the first word is typed, the empty staff before the first note is written, the moment before an idea becomes a physical reality. The blank canvas. It is my favorite part about art and I didn't really understand that until very recently.

I am not much of a composer/lyricist but I have written a few things and that moment when the idea in my brain becomes a song that someone else is singing or playing - that moment is more powerful than anything else in the world. I remember in college, when my class sang this group number I had written, I sat there in awe. I could have cried. I didn't write anything down or record anything because I was so mesmerized. It was the first time I've ever heard a made up song from my brain exist in real time with real people. Where there was nothing, now there was something. I also remember my very first day of marching band in the eighth grade and hearing that first downbeat of the first song of our show for the first time. I got chills. I. Always. Get. Chills.

The show I'm in currently in, "The Drowsy Chaperone" has an incredible moment when the overture is being played on a record player and midway through the song it seamlessly shifts from the record player to the live orchestra. That moment always gives me chills. Always. And this is my third time doing this show. I'm currently working on a solo show and I've turned a bunch of my blogs into songs. And that moment when I just sing a melody to my music director and he lays down an accompaniment out of nowhere. That moment is so magical. I hate to use the world "magical," but that's what it is! Harry Potter magic doesn't exist to my knowledge, but that "group mind" where two artists can be on the same page about something without even describing it in words - that be nothing else but magic, right?

So when you are hesitant to start something. If you're hesitant to write that first word, sing that first note, drop that first downbeat, take that first stroke - don't be. Because you are about to create something out of absolutely nothing. And that is magic. And that in itself is a miracle. And that feeling is incomparable to anything else in the world. Stay comfy y'all.

People say that improv can be a kind of therapy for some people. Heck, people say that about theatre too. And it's simply because in improv you get to just be as weird as you want to be. As weird as you probably are. So all of the misfits and weirdos that have never been able to find creative satisfaction in other fields find improv to be a rather comfy corner. I know this to be true because I am that misfit weirdo that recently found his comfy corner in improv. I used to hate improv. Sorry to all my friends that were in improv troupes in college, but I just did not enjoy seeing improv shows. I didn't like watching actors struggle on stage. I didn't like the discomfort of knowing that things could fall to pieces at any moment. I am the type of person that practices too much, demands perfection when perfection isn't reachable, and generally just tries too hard. I like theatre to be in a nice, squeaky clean little box that is polished till it shines. That's probably why I like musical theatre so much. But then I forced myself to join an improv troupe and the walls came tumbling down.

All of the freedom, the relaxation that I worked SO HARD to achieve in college has finally started to sink in. It's like I took some miracle antidote that made the metaphorical stick up my butt just disappear! The problem in college was clear. I was "working so hard" to "relax." Not really very effective, right? But in improv, I can't really work too hard because I don't know what's gonna happen next. So voila! I stopped working so hard and finally I was able to relax and just do it. And the fear of failure in improv is silly because the odds are totally in my favor. Just by the nature of it, it's all totally made up, so you are going to be funny 95% of the time if you are being honest.

So, therapy indeed. It seems like a contradiction to put yourself in a high-stress situation in order to unwind all the things that are tightly wound inside of you. But it totally has worked for me. All of my favorite actors started out as improvisers so of course this is the path I want to be on. So to all of my fellow therapy group members here in Boomtown, thank you for welcoming me into your world. Whether I'm actually good at it or not, it doesn't matter. It's become like a weird drug for me and I'm gonna keep taking this drug until I need something else. For now, this is the best high I've ever had. Stay comfy y'all!