The Ghost Of Camp Conestoga

I took Nicole back to Rockford to show her my boyhood stomping grounds. Our first stop was Beef-a-roo to visit Adam and get some cheese fries. Our second stop was Anna Page Park where I spent seven formative wonderful years as a camp counselor. It's a bit overgrown but virtually unchanged. Camp Conestoga closed my final year as a counselor in 2004. 

It felt really good to go back and show Nicole around. Giving her a little tour and telling her about the camp brought back a lot of great memories, things I hadn't thought about in a long time. Overnights, hayrides, skits, songs, campfires, ghost stories, night hikes. Returning there I realized how big a part the camp played in making me who I am. 

Along with archery and tye-dye the hike to the dam was one of my favorite camp activities. It's a long trek for an 8 year old and once we'd get there we'd paint it and we'd play Cat&Mouse. It took Nicole and I 7 minutes to walk there. With kids it'd take 30. Most of the dam is covered in graffiti but there are one or two camp slogans that have survived over the past ten years.

The camp grounds were totally deserted. The forest feels older. It's quiet now and tranquil. My memories of it always teem with the skweeling of 8-10 year olds. One week I took my kids to a mulberry patch and after we had all stuffed ourselves encouraged them streak the juices across their faces like war paint. Their parents didn't care for that much.

It's special place for me and I'm grateful I got to share it with Nicole. The place itself says more than I could ever say about it. There are so many stories in those woods. So much laughter. A good amount of tears too now that I think about it. Once a kid broke his arm during a game of Steal The Bacon.

The camp may be closed but if you listen close you almost hear the murmur of excited children, the hiss of a hot dog cooking over an open flame, the hush of a ghost story about to be told.

Sisyphus

Recently some shows I've done have felt like a lot of work, unpleasantly so.  People not on the same page, at different energies, with divergent points of view coming together like pieces from random puzzles. I've felt I have had to expend a disproportionate amount of effort to clarify a scene or make it work or help move a piece forward. It's also felt like a struggle to have fun. I've spent so much energy trying to do my part in holding a show together I forget to have a good time. It's a bad feeling and relatively mystifying considering it's all pretend and we're all doing it for free. It's frustrating. Feeling like this thing that is suppose to be fun and funny and energetic is an absolute struggle.

When improv works it feels great and its effortless. When it doesn't work its like Sisyphus. Expending all  energy, exerting all will, to move something that cannot be moved. Fruitless, desperate, futile.

But after talking to Craig and reflecting on it a bit I think it's more of a mental hole I've gotten myself into. The only thing I'm in control of is myself, in improv as in all things I am the arbiter of my own fate. I can have fun regardless of the audience or the differing ideas or opinions of the people I'm playing with. Ideally there is the idea of group mind and support tying all the players together but that's not always the case. Sometimes people are in funks, sometimes people have styles that aren't compatible. That's all ok. I'm responsible only for my own happiness, my own enjoyment. If a piece works or if a scene work is not under my control.

There's also pleasure that can be derived from the struggle. From exerting effort. From doing the work. As a performer it's naive to believe it's always going to be great easy shows, sunshine, rainbows, and unicorn ice-cream. Every opportunity has it's problems, every gig it's price. Life is a struggle. Art imitates life. Ups and downs, peaks and valleys. All you can do is keep doing.

Try again, fail again, fail better. Rinse. Repeat.

Season 2

Tonight we recorded the first episode of Season two of Tisher, Tim, and I's radio serial Bubble Boys. This season will take place ten years after the first season in 1943. It felt great to get back in the studio with Tim and Tisher and we hit the ground running. I'm really excited for this season because we figured out a lot of stuff the first time around. We know how to edit, we know our characters, we know how to get what we want out of takes and how they can be chopped up to get what we want. Now we can streamline, focus on the ideas, the story, and the characters. We have a lot of great guests for this season and some exciting episodes planned.

It was a great feeling to get back in Tim's studio. It feels right and comfortable and once we got going things just started to roll. I've been chomping at the bit to get started on season 2 and now that we have I think we are all on the same page, excited and inspired.

We had Allison, Annie, and Lily on for our first episode and to date was the most we've laughed while recording. It may be a little more work during the editing process but it's always worth cracking each other up.

The summer has been great but I didn't have a project to work on. I'm the type of guy that has to have something to work on or work towards. To feel like I'm moving forward, producing content. It's a great relief and a great joy to get back to work on a passion project with a best friend.

We'll be releasing season 2, ten episodes in ten weeks, in a couple months.

Red Rock

I miss the west. The wide open spaces. The mountains. The places where you can go and not see anyone for hours.

Adam and I went out to see the Beanpole in Colorado twice and did a lot of hiking both times. The second time we went to the Red Rocks where this picture was taken. I remember thinking it was the location of that scene from Bill And Ted's Bogus Journey.

I just finished watching Long Way Down the second season of the Charlie Boorman/Ewan McGregor motorcycle travel show. In it they ride bikes from Scotland to South Africa. It's an amazing show and it got me really inspired. I want to ride my bike across country, have an adventure, meet new people, and most of all see old friends. I could ride to Austin to visit Bob or Denver to visit Beanpole or Richmond to visit Matt.

This coming winter will be for planning, the spring for doing and the open road.

A Parable About Longing

There once was a boy who fell in love with the night.
When the sun went down he would feel a pull at his heart.
He loved the comfort of the dark.
The caress of the shadow.
The warmth of the gloom.
The expanse of the black unknown.
But the night is elusive.
And the boy was a boy.
He would take long walks at dusk while the night gathered.
Until his mother would call him in for supper and bed.
He would stand at his window and stare out at the dimness.
But would soon weary and fall asleep.
Time past and the boy's heart began to ache.
He craved the ink of midnight and the silver touch of the moon.
He did not enjoy his food or the child's games he played at school.
He yearned.
One night he was awoken by the dry mutter of his curtains in the wind.
And as he looked out his open window desire and fear clashed within him.
Desire won.
The boy swung one leg and then another over the sill and gently leaped to the ground.
As the boy walked into the dark,
shadows fell around him,
and out of the gloom, a whisper:
"I have missed you so."

Nineteen

About six months ago I lent Craig Stephen King's 11/23/62 along with a couple other books. We're both big King fans. The thing I love about King is that his books are all connected. Themes, characters, worlds, story arcs- they all weave together. In the Dark Tower Series the characters encounter the number 19 frequently. So much so the characters in the book start using the number as a signal of coincidence and connectedness and fate. A sign of what goes on behind the curtain.

Craig just started reading the book last weekend while he was on his way to Austin. Yesterday Craig was finally back for both Sunday shows. During the Prime set we did a scene in a sandwich shop. Four tornado chasers went to rob a Blimpie in order to raise money for their expedition. Of course during the robbery we all decided to order sandwiches. Scott was the first to order and asked for a "pepinos". We all went nuts over the silliness of the word and repeated it probably 100 times during the rest of the scene.

Later that night Craig went home and was reading before bed. What did he find in the pages of 11/23/62? Pepino's Best.

There's no explaining where inspiration comes from or when it will strike. Stories and ideas are out there swirling in the ether. Sometimes you reach out your hand and grasp them and make sense of them. And other times you only get a glimpse.

Of a pattern immense, intricate, and unknown.

A Belated Entrance And An Exit

Yesterday The Night Shift had our last show with Mike before he moved back to Cleveland. I showed up late because I was coming from a show at iO and didn't get there until about two minutes into our set. I watched for a minute or two to get a sense of what was going on and then entered.

Normally being late to a show let alone going into a set late would horrify me. With The Night Shift we are genuinely only interested in having fun with each other. That's something I think a lot of improv groups say but this is one of the rare groups that it's actually true. There is absolutely zero expectations and infinite acceptance. We show up and do our shows and have fun. We love being together with whoever can make it whenever they can make it. There is never any resentment or guilt or judgement because there's no pressure. It's a challenge to walk into a show once it's started and it can be weird. It's a unique feeling to show up late and be willing to watch and have your teammates encourage you to walk on and figure it out. No one is put out, everyone is simply excited to be together.

We've been doing a mono-scene for a couple months now, one continuous scene for the duration of our set, and tonight we were at an archaeological dig. We had a send off show for Mike two weeks ago where we all wore Ohio sports shirts so this was just icing on the cake. We've been a tight group since we formed three years ago and it will be tough to have Mike gone. But luckily he won't be far away and we've already talked about him mega-busing back for shows.

Good night but not good bye.