Takin’ a Break From Doin’ It
…as tonight is my night off from performing.
Every time I set out on one of these trips, I throw together a mix – basically, I select the “most frequently played” from my iTunes, drop out the longest-running ones, and burn them onto a CD. The result usually consists of show music – I tend to build playlists for each individual show or story as I’m writing it, and listen to those songs over and over again as I’m working. One of the odd exceptions is “Meds”, by Placebo, which has become the de facto theme song of this trip by virtue of my inability to get it out of my head. It has a suitably angsty, adolescent, Pink-Floyd-esque quality.
---
I’ll confess to some frustration with this particular trip – I just can’t seem to figure out what to do with myself. Last year, I was able to set out every night with no idea of where I was heading or where I would end up, with never dismaying results. This time around, I seem to find myself wandering about aimlessly more often than I’d like. Am I just burned out on the city? It seems unlikely – I’m sure there’re thousands of holes-in-the-wall I have yet to discover, but I’m just not finding them.
Maybe the problem is expectation. Glancing back over what I’ve just written, it seems pretty clear that I came here in need of a very specific kind of experience; so maybe when I let that go, I’ll be able to find something. We’ll see.
…since, y’know, letting go is the kind of thing I’m so good at.
---
My billeter’s location actually isn’t too far from the one I had last year, which means I’m within easy walking distance of the Westport area. My impression is that Westport is very much the Uptown of Kansas City (i.e. much more hipster-oriented). But, yeah, I know this area pretty well, so I had the opportunity to (finally!) make it to a café with free wireless and start catching up on work.
Part way through, I ran into another chunk of the cast from Grind, doing their flyering business throughout the city. I’ve grown rather fond of these guys; they’re a bunch of Carlton graduates, and remind me a lot of Ben Egerman and Rachel Teagle before them: galloping into view with boatloads of enthusiasm, seizing hold of every opportunity as it arises. I talked to them for a while, and they echoed my frustrations at not being able to find what to occupy themselves with. I offered my services as a tour guide – really, I’d just like the excuse to hang out with them more. I gave them my phone number and asked them to give me a call if anything came up. Call, me GRIND: The Musical! (They won’t call.)
---
Determined to do some serious and irreparable damage to my bowels, I subjected myself to a Patty Melt at the Flea Market. (For a once-a-year indulgence: so worth it.) Then set out to Just Off Broadway to catch Tim’s show. (They seem to be setting some of the venues by theme this year – in this case, all the Shakespeare shows in one venue – which is smart: I recall them doing something similar in Indianapolis to great effect.) By far, the best-attended show I’d seen – I presume due to some combination of the success of his show last year, and the fact that “Lot O’ Shakespeare” is a pretty solid marketing package – art combined with a nifty parlor trick.
I flyered his crowd on the way out, then stuck around long enough to flyer the next crowd on the way in. The upcoming show was “Boobs, Burlesque, and the Bard”, and I could barely keep up with the number of people.
So…what is it with KC and burlesque? I mean, just about every Fringe Festival I hit on the circuit has one or two burlesque shows, which have an attendance that varies from moderate to respectable – but KC has, like, dozens. And they’re always, always packed. Even the shows that aren’t burlesque shows are trying to be – I was amused to note the huge percentage of previews that involved people removing their clothing. I mean, all Fringes are a little sex-crazy, but this is noteworthy.
Anyway, flyered that crowd, glanced at my cell, and realized that I had just enough time to bolt over to another venue and catch another crowd. Made it in right before start time, bought a ticket (immediately before asking what show I was seeing, to the amusement of the box officers) and grabbed a seat. Headed to the lobby as soon as the lights rose at the end of the show, eager to get this crowd, too. Found myself waiting for about five minutes before I realized that, oh. The entire audience had consisted of the artists’ family and friends. Oops.
---
The volunteers talked up a couple of late-night bars at great artist hangouts, great places to flyer and network, and I met the prospect with enthusiasm. I headed to Fringe Central, to see if I could talk anyone else into joining me.
Bit of a tough row to hoe, since the few who were there seemed to want to stick around. Enh, I dunno – it’s hard for me to be game for the open-mike again. I mean, pretty much every night I’m going out and doing my stuff for a handful of people – I don’t want to go out afterwards and do the same thing for a body of people who care even less. It’s just not fun for me to work that hard for so little. I envy guys like Tim, who will eagerly perform monologues for three people and regularly holds performances in his own apartment – but I’m not constituted that way, and it’s extraordinarily difficult for me to continually generate the energy for that kind of performance.
Perhaps more to the point, I just couldn’t handle spending another night in the same place. I really don’t want to slink back home with my only memory of Kansas City being hunched over the same bar every night. So I was able to con a few people into heading the street with me.
I say “con”, because, well – one of the places was closed, the other place dead and in the process of closing. Well, yeah – Tuesday night. But, yes. Starting to go a little crazy. all play and no work makes phil a big jerk
Every time I set out on one of these trips, I throw together a mix – basically, I select the “most frequently played” from my iTunes, drop out the longest-running ones, and burn them onto a CD. The result usually consists of show music – I tend to build playlists for each individual show or story as I’m writing it, and listen to those songs over and over again as I’m working. One of the odd exceptions is “Meds”, by Placebo, which has become the de facto theme song of this trip by virtue of my inability to get it out of my head. It has a suitably angsty, adolescent, Pink-Floyd-esque quality.
---
I’ll confess to some frustration with this particular trip – I just can’t seem to figure out what to do with myself. Last year, I was able to set out every night with no idea of where I was heading or where I would end up, with never dismaying results. This time around, I seem to find myself wandering about aimlessly more often than I’d like. Am I just burned out on the city? It seems unlikely – I’m sure there’re thousands of holes-in-the-wall I have yet to discover, but I’m just not finding them.
Maybe the problem is expectation. Glancing back over what I’ve just written, it seems pretty clear that I came here in need of a very specific kind of experience; so maybe when I let that go, I’ll be able to find something. We’ll see.
…since, y’know, letting go is the kind of thing I’m so good at.
---
My billeter’s location actually isn’t too far from the one I had last year, which means I’m within easy walking distance of the Westport area. My impression is that Westport is very much the Uptown of Kansas City (i.e. much more hipster-oriented). But, yeah, I know this area pretty well, so I had the opportunity to (finally!) make it to a café with free wireless and start catching up on work.
Part way through, I ran into another chunk of the cast from Grind, doing their flyering business throughout the city. I’ve grown rather fond of these guys; they’re a bunch of Carlton graduates, and remind me a lot of Ben Egerman and Rachel Teagle before them: galloping into view with boatloads of enthusiasm, seizing hold of every opportunity as it arises. I talked to them for a while, and they echoed my frustrations at not being able to find what to occupy themselves with. I offered my services as a tour guide – really, I’d just like the excuse to hang out with them more. I gave them my phone number and asked them to give me a call if anything came up. Call, me GRIND: The Musical! (They won’t call.)
---
Determined to do some serious and irreparable damage to my bowels, I subjected myself to a Patty Melt at the Flea Market. (For a once-a-year indulgence: so worth it.) Then set out to Just Off Broadway to catch Tim’s show. (They seem to be setting some of the venues by theme this year – in this case, all the Shakespeare shows in one venue – which is smart: I recall them doing something similar in Indianapolis to great effect.) By far, the best-attended show I’d seen – I presume due to some combination of the success of his show last year, and the fact that “Lot O’ Shakespeare” is a pretty solid marketing package – art combined with a nifty parlor trick.
I flyered his crowd on the way out, then stuck around long enough to flyer the next crowd on the way in. The upcoming show was “Boobs, Burlesque, and the Bard”, and I could barely keep up with the number of people.
So…what is it with KC and burlesque? I mean, just about every Fringe Festival I hit on the circuit has one or two burlesque shows, which have an attendance that varies from moderate to respectable – but KC has, like, dozens. And they’re always, always packed. Even the shows that aren’t burlesque shows are trying to be – I was amused to note the huge percentage of previews that involved people removing their clothing. I mean, all Fringes are a little sex-crazy, but this is noteworthy.
Anyway, flyered that crowd, glanced at my cell, and realized that I had just enough time to bolt over to another venue and catch another crowd. Made it in right before start time, bought a ticket (immediately before asking what show I was seeing, to the amusement of the box officers) and grabbed a seat. Headed to the lobby as soon as the lights rose at the end of the show, eager to get this crowd, too. Found myself waiting for about five minutes before I realized that, oh. The entire audience had consisted of the artists’ family and friends. Oops.
---
The volunteers talked up a couple of late-night bars at great artist hangouts, great places to flyer and network, and I met the prospect with enthusiasm. I headed to Fringe Central, to see if I could talk anyone else into joining me.
Bit of a tough row to hoe, since the few who were there seemed to want to stick around. Enh, I dunno – it’s hard for me to be game for the open-mike again. I mean, pretty much every night I’m going out and doing my stuff for a handful of people – I don’t want to go out afterwards and do the same thing for a body of people who care even less. It’s just not fun for me to work that hard for so little. I envy guys like Tim, who will eagerly perform monologues for three people and regularly holds performances in his own apartment – but I’m not constituted that way, and it’s extraordinarily difficult for me to continually generate the energy for that kind of performance.
Perhaps more to the point, I just couldn’t handle spending another night in the same place. I really don’t want to slink back home with my only memory of Kansas City being hunched over the same bar every night. So I was able to con a few people into heading the street with me.
I say “con”, because, well – one of the places was closed, the other place dead and in the process of closing. Well, yeah – Tuesday night. But, yes. Starting to go a little crazy. all play and no work makes phil a big jerk
6 comments:
Perhaps they seize hold of every opportunity, but do they then proceed to lock it in a chokehold until none of its original promise remains, claiming it all to themselves? For if not, I reject any similarities between myself and they.
But all joking aside, it's a huge compliment. Those folks are awesome. Some of them are really good friends of ours from our college days--Alex, the director, you may recall as the unabomber. Hope your tour is going well--I just finished up the DC leg of mine, your name was quite well remembered there, if not necessarily remembered well.
I think that last line was ambiguous--what I meant to imply was that the comments I heard, while few, were all positive.
I think that last line was ambiguous--what I meant to imply was that the comments I heard, while few, were all positive.
God, Ben's repetitive. And the Grind folks are lovely, they've been talking you up too, and hopefully that'll help get more butts in seats.
By the way, you, Kurt Fitzpatrick, and Laura are all guest performing for me, so it's super fun, at least for me, to watch you all hanging out in cyberspace (as you actually hang out in Missouri, which is like the cyberspace of the southern midwest, as I understand it)
Keep on keepin' on, man.
We'll always call, Phil. We'll always call.
We'll always call, Phil. We'll always call.
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