Old Flame

It's time to say goodbye.

 

No, I'm not going anywhere. It's just that I've been hanging onto my old pair of beautiful flame shoes for a long time now; they're tattered, torn, and full of holes.

They've been good to me. They've taken me to many of my favorite places, including...

San Francisco...

(Tilden Park)

Paris...

London...

Oxford...

...and Edinburgh.

Since the old shoes had to go bye-bye, I couldn't bear not having a happy replacement to travel with me to special places and stand as proof of me leaving my mark, so I got these babies:

...and took them to see one of my other old flames:

Adam Clayton of U2 on Bass Guitar

Sam Boyd Stadium, Las Vegas, Nevada

23 Oct 2009

(I have a video of my shoes at the show, but Blogger isn't letting me upload it...)

Alta posted about the show HERE, but I thought a couple more shots would be in order:

Goodbye, old flame; you'll be missed.

Tom Sawyer

Okay, so I'm way late posting anything about this, but I've been performing in the Resonance Story Theatre production of Tom Sawyer for about a month now. Most of our performances are for elementary schools on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons (super fun!), but we also perform for FREE every Friday night at the Orem Library at 7:00 PM as part of their Big Read. The last such performance will be on October 16th. There will also be one performance at UVU in the eXbox Theatre (which is a smaller version of the old Black Box in the same location, room GT 627) on October 17th.

The production uses a minimalist design and fits into the "story theatre" category, which means it blurs the lines between traditional theatre and storytelling. The cast consists of only five actors, and most of us play several characters. For example, I play Mark Twain, Injun Joe, the Preacher, and Widow Douglas. The amazing actors I work with are Nannette Watts, Jason Jensen, Kelly Coombs, and Jason Sullivan as Tom Sawyer.

Bring your family! The show is appropriate and interesting for all ages. Seating is limited, and the house has been full for most performances, so arrive early.

Thanks to everyone who has already shown a great deal of support.

Two Face

I'm not talking about Batman's supervillain nemesis. And I'm not talking about Glenn Beck (although the Porter Bureau handled the subject nicely HERE).

I'm talking about Michael Jackson. But not in the "transforming man" sort of way you might be thinking. Sure, his obsession with changing his appearance was strange at best, but to each his/her own, right? Some freaks like long hair and a scraggly Van Dyke; others like plastic surgery. So what?

Okay, so I'm not really talking about Michael Jackson; I'm talking about us. Us and our mutual shunning of MJ during some of his greatest struggles. Us and our collective response to his death. One moment, we're convinced he's a pedophile and deserves no better than a cold shoulder; the next moment, we're buying up his music catalog like it's the greatest thing since sliced bread.

What happened? The guy has a messed up childhood full of stardom and abuse. He cuts some solo records, the public goes nuts, and he becomes even more famous. Everybody loves him; everybody buys his music — until he's suspected of pedophilia. Suspected. Not convicted.

Suspected.

So we turn our backs on him. We shed our MJ collections like Nazis burning books in Berlin. We disown him and call him a freak. The guy's not even convicted of the crap someone claims he did, and we treat him like a monster.

Where's the love? I'm pretty sure most of his fans in the US during the height of his career in the 80s called themselves Christian (more than 75% of Americans did in 2007). You know, the turn-the-other-cheek people. The go-thy-way-and-sin-no-more people. Yeah, those kind of people.

A guy faces some serious legal charges, and what do we do? We leave him behind like Lot (but not his wife) fleeing Sodom. He is the other. The leper. The vile one. Later, after the pedophilia hubbub dies down, we find ourselves browsing through CDs at Virgin; we stumble across Thriller by accident and recall its catchy melodies and danceable rhythms. We nearly give in (this time like Lot's wife) and purchase this now-shunned prize until it calls out to us, "Unclean! Unclean!" And do we reach out like Jesus to offer MJ the Leper a second chance? Of course not. We're the new improved Christians. We don't believe in that forgiveness crap! Besides, we've got a judicial system firmly in place that says innocent until...

Where was I? Oh, yeah... So do we buy the CD? No way. Instead, we bow our heads in shame and, hoping nobody notices, hide the offending CD behind a rack full of children's music where it belongs.

That could have been yesterday. Okay, not yesterday, but maybe June 24, 2009.

One day, we're afraid to admit to liking Jackson's devil music, and the next day (the 25th) finds us looking around to check possible reactions before we go into a great white feeding frenzy, buying every last album MJ ever recorded. Suddenly — if our prior damnation of the poor soul was correct — we're the other kind of Christian. The dog-returning-to-its-vomit kind.

We are two-faced hypocrites. That much is clear. The only question is this: Were we hypocrites when we weren't buying his music, or are we hypocrites now?

Denouncement of Misogyny

In the spirit of John Stuart Mill's "Statement Repudiating the Rights of Husbands" (1851) [read it HERE], I offer up my "Denouncement of Misogyny" in the form of the following (incomplete) list of things I do not expect a woman to do for me. I'm not saying I won't allow Alta to do these things for me, but I don't expect them; I don't demand them.

Stay Home
Like men, women have the right to choose how to spend their time and decide which endeavors to pursue. If Alta wants to work, so be it. If she would rather be "employed" than stay at home with the kids, it is her right.

Go to Work
Although I have been heard saying recently that I have a "sugar momma" to take care of me (handy for a theatre guy), I don't want to give the false pretense that I expect Alta to work to support me. I am equally happy to be the primary bread-winner or the stay-at-home parent — or some combination of the two. What matters is that she is where she wants to be.

Do the Laundry
Who decided that women are supposed to do the laundry? From my perspective, I don't see anything particularly feminine — or masculine — about doing laundry. Men and women have both been wearing clothes and getting them dirty for a very long time (at least 6,000 years, according to the Bible); I'm pretty sure we are both capable of cleaning them. Some scientists have even claimed to witness men successfully fold laundry. Can you believe it?

Cook
Alta is a great cook. I love eating what she makes for me. But, hey — I's got skillz too, yo! My mother taught me to cook, clean, and many other things traditionally relegated to women. I'm not about to abandon my ironically (and probably unintentionally) feminist upbringing just so I don't have to make my own dinner. Besides, I like to cook.

Do the Dishes
This could be lumped in with laundry and cooking, I guess, but this one is a little different. It's not the woman's job to do dishes — it's indisputably a job for kids!

Give Me Sex-On-Demand
Ultra-conservative Puritans can close their eyes for a moment while I admit something scandalous: marriage includes sexual relations between the two married parties. Guess what? I'm married, and that means — NO, DON'T SAY IT!! — I have sex. Regularly. It's part of life. (A really good part, I might add.) That said, it's not my right to demand it. Women are not made to be sex toys for men. I know that must come as a shock to some, but men and women both need to enjoy it on terms they are both comfortable with. 'Nuff said.

Wear Makeup, etc.
It bugs me how much society sets expectations for women (and men) based on the presence of a particular chromosomal combination. "Wear makeup! Shave your legs! Wear pink! Do your hair! Wear a dress!" These are all things laid out by society as being somehow feminine in spite of men being the ones who did most of these things first. Somehow, if a woman doesn't do these things, she is less of a woman; she is teetering dangerously close to the edge of masculinity. I'm not saying I mind any of these things, and I'm certainly not against anyone doing any of them to feel a little fresher or more attractive; I just want to make it clear that I don't expect any of it. I love Alta just as much whether she does them or not. None of these things make her more or less of a woman.

Go on a Diet
Okay, this one kind of goes with my "Wear Makeup, etc." category, but the enormous emphasis in society on thinness to the point of giving people eating disorders is insane. Men are not exempt from these pressures, but women certainly get the brunt of them. To take a page from Mr. Rogers, "I like you just the way you are."

Ask for Permission
For anything. Sure, communication is essential to a good marriage, but I'm not talking about the part where you check for scheduling conflicts, prior commitments, and the general mental and emotional capability to survive while one or the other member of the partnership is away from home, and I'm not talking about a discussion of the financial sustainability of the checking account — I'm talking about receiving approval for any given activity (the activity itself, not the scheduling or financing of it). Who am I to approve another adult's choice in activities? (Okay, maybe murder is out.) Last I checked, no one made me king.

Your Assistance, Please

You've probably read about it on Alta's blog [HERE and/or HERE] and know by now that she is pregnant. Yeah, surprise, right?

You ain't kiddin'...

Truth be told, I'm quite a bit less freaked out than Alta. I'm pretty happy about it all because kids are awesome (even when they're not BEING awesome), and there's a good chance this one will be a girl. There are some fears, of course; our fertility issues have been significantly underscored by a much higher-than-normal miscarriage rate, which means that is still a possibility. However, things are looking quite good at this point, and we're being cautiously optimistic.

So here's where I need your help. No, I'm not asking you to take over the care of our forthcoming child until s/he is wiping its own booty and feeding itself (although those are two major milestones to happy parenting). I need help with a name. We've pretty much decided on a girl's name already (Eowyn Elanor), but Alta's so confident that it'll be a girl, she thinks it's superfluous to pick a boy's name as well. Hey, I'm no boy scout (in fact, I hate the organization), but I do like to be prepared. So here's the deal; offer up your favorite male name(s) from the Lord of the Rings and give an explanation why. I can't guarantee we'll use it due to certain red tape issues, but it will help me in the appeals process.

DISCLAIMER:

Film clip contains PG-13 war violence.

[BTW, the names Smaug, Sauron, Smeagol, and other "evil" names ain't gonna cut it, so don't try to be funny. Yeah, Gandalf is out, too.]