Mr.B In Chicago:
A Funny Thing Happened...
or
What's the Only Thing You Shouldn't Yell In a Crowded Theatre?
As captain of this particular love boat, allow me to welcome you aboard with a lame, form letter explanation...
Before, I hack out a single word of this email, Allow me to welcome new subscribers to my email list. Welcome.
For some reason or another, you have been added to my email list and will be subject to a seemingly random, series of emails updating you on my life. I write these Mass Emails to stay in touch with people. But, do not fear the cold nature of my Mass Emails. Please know that if you take the time to respond to something that I write, I will ALWAYS take the time to write you
back. I promise never to forward anything to you. No bad jokes. No Missing Children report. And definitely no more Pass This Email on to 20 people and you will get 324.16 in GapDollars. I will only send you something that is important to me.
I also promise to send these emails to you anonymously. Thus no one else could steal your email address and ruin your life.
If you like what I write, email me back. I invite comment. Positive or otherwise. If you have suggestions about how this could be less a pain and more a pleasure, by all means, let me know. If this annoys you and you do not have use of your "Delete" key, ask to be taken off the list. No hard feelings. Otherwise, Welcome, Villkomen, dear friend, and read on...
So, I have attempted to write a vacation follow up email three different times now and have discovered three different ways to fail at it. All three of them sounded lame and derivative. I tried too hard to compact too much information into too tiny a space. Everything sounded like a lame Travel Channel blurb. "Ate at the Mexican restaurant in Harrodsburg, the enchiladas
were divine." So, I have given up on the anecdotal approach and will simply ignore that the trip ever happened and end this email with a few personal notes to the kind folks that I encountered on my travels. That way, the rest of you guys, can skip on to the "hearty meat" of the email and avoid the emotional dribble that means little or nothing to you.
But first, a short story, completely true and thoroughly "Chicago."
I house-managed the Thursday night Second City performance at my theatre, the Metropolis Performing Blah Blah Blah. (If you don't know the name of the theatre by now, then you have not been paying attention.) Anyhow, we had a small crowd, around sixty paying customers. In a three hundred plus seating house, they looked pathetically small. To pad the crowd, I started offering a "Free Sneak Preview" to anyone that walked up to the Theatre and inquired about it. If it looked like they were not going to buy tickets, I caught up with them on the way out and offered them seats in the back of the house.
Thus, we bumped the crowd up to around seventy-five people.
The first act was uneventful. No loud screaming audience members. No spilled drinks. Few latecomers. From a house management position, it was quiet. Too quiet. I should've suspected that the Forces of Chaos were waiting in the shadows for the right moment to spring. Even the Intermission was quiet. I didn't even need to flash the lights. The audience returned to their seats and on their own and waited patiently for the show to resume.
Before I leave the exposition and move to the Climactic Event itself, I should point out something else. Beth K. was there.
Beth is one of the producers of Second City and is, well let's be honest, the last person you want to look like a screw up in front of. Beth is a hands-on type of producer. She sits in at all of the auditions for Second City and is very vocal in her opinions. She is honest, direct and knowledgeable about Second City and Improv in general. For reasons unbeknownst to me, she chose last Thursday to sit in and watch the RedCo, touring company perform. I was a little nervous, to say the least. I don't have an inflated ego and I try to keep my dreams within the realm of possibility, but the truth is, someday, I would like to perform at Second City. Whether on a touring show or on one of the Mainstages, THAT is one of the main reasons I moved here in the first place. And Beth K., with the slightest of thoughts could make that happen or forever close that particular door. I give her a wide berth when I see her and treat her with the utmost respect. As I did, on Thursday night, when she came to my theatre to see the show. Let us leave it to say, that Beth K. was there.
The second act began and I stood in the back of the theatre, watching the performance and the crowd, looking for rowdy audience members. The first scene of the second act, was a parody of the films and attitudes of the fifties. The lead character, Hap, smoked a pipe and denounced the "Godless Barbarism of those Dirty Commies." He was on a date, with his new girl, Helen, she who prayed for "clean floors and moist cakes and death to all the Reds," they had just arrived at the Diner, where they met the wacky cook and were just about to order a dinner of "meatloaf and a bowl of gin," when...
...strobes started flashing and a siren started it's repetitive, steady whine. The cook, said, "Hey, sounds like an air raid," and continued the scene. I looked at the four strobes that were flashing in the room and tried to figure out whether it was some sort of surreal comment on the fifties and the war time mentality or a genuine Fire Alarm. When the Generic Male Alarm Announcer began his steady, bored drone, "Warning. Please exit the building. A Fire Alarm is in progress. Please exit the building. Warning," I knew we were in trouble.
I ran to the lobby, to find the same strobe lights flashing and the same alarm sounding and the same Generic Male Announcer, urging us to "exit the building." I saw Dawn E., my boss, standing in the Box Office window.
"Say Dawn, is the building on fire?" I believe in the Direct Approach.
"Um, I don't think so." We both noted the suspicious lack of smoke and painful, searing flames.
"Well, what do I do?"
"I guess we better get them out of the theatre."
"Great. I'll take care of it." I said. And I steeled myself for the entire process. I went back into the theatre to collect the patrons.
On the way back in, I met Leslie, the Stage Manager for the touring company.
"What's going on?" she said.
"Well, I think it's a fire alarm I have to go and evacuate the theatre now. Can you give me house lights?"
"Sure," she said, "after you get everyone out, I'm going to go out back and meet with the actors."
So, like two heroes, holding the fates of the audience in our strong hands, we resolved ourselves to our separate tasks. I made my way down to the center of the house, and she brought the lights up on me. Onstage, the wacky cook, played by Brian B. (I think) milled around, as confused as the rest of us.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! It seems that we have a bit of a fire alarm happening. We request that you collect your personal items and exit the theatre through the lobby, to adjourn at the outside sidewalk. We will reset the alarm and resume the show shortly. Please collect your personal items and exit the theatre. I'm not kidding!"
And they just looked at me.
The drunken lady nearest me said, "Yeah right! This is just a Second City stunt right?" and she punched me in the arm, conspiratorially.
"No. it is a real alarm from what might turn out to be a real fire. You have to leave right now."
And they just looked at me.
So I repeated the above announcement and smiled at them and walked up to the top of the aisle and propped open the doors for them and then and only then, did they begin to mill out. All laughs and sly smiles, they were positive that it was a stunt.
After they were all on their way out, Corey, ran over to me. He shouted over the din of the Fire Alarm.
"DUDE! I am going to go upstairs and make sure that everyone is out."
"Great! I am going to go outside and check on the actors and then see if our audience stayed."
We hugged like men, facing a life or death situation. We might never see each other again. I watched my brother at arms, bravely head off to an unknown fate, serving his fellow man.
(Okay, that last part is a bit of an exaggeration, but he really did say that and he really did go upstairs to look for people. From what he told me later, he risked near deafness from a tightly enclosed space and the God Awful racket coming from the siren, located there.)I headed back to the loading bay and checked on the actors. They were smoking cigarettes and laughing about the whole thing. And there was Beth K., talking about the situation to the actors. She stopped talking when I walked up.
"So, what's going on?" she asked me.
"Well, we are having a bit of a fire alarm. The audience is standing out front of the theater, enjoying some cocktails and we will resume the show as soon as the Fire Department clears the building. If that's okay with you guys."
"Okay, that's what we'll do then," she said. "Do you guys want to go around front and mingle with the crowd until the Fire Department gets here?"
The actors agreed to do so and formulated a plan to make a nice, funny entrance. They started in that direction and I told Beth, that I would see her around front. I calmly, casually walked into the loading bay, rounded the corner and sprinted the rest of the way to the theatres sidewalk.
As I passed the theatre's bar, J. Gerard's, a wave of cheers went up. Apparently everyone that was drinking before the alarm, did not feel the particular need to leave the bar and were cheering at anyone who walked past them. A desperate cry for help? You decide. But there they were and they cheered for me as I went past them.
Outside the theatre, the audience was cheering for the Fire Department, as they pulled around the corner, two blocks away and made for the theatre at breakneck speed. Many, many audience members congratulated me, on "this great stunt. It's too damned funny."
Dawn came over to me and told me that Steve, the owner of J Gerards had checked the Men's Lobby restroom and smelled cigarette smoke. The likely cause of this entire debacle. The firemen, all dressed in fireman garb, approached the building to riotous applause. I noted their very sharp axes and their seriousness of demeanor. They were there to wage war against The Most Destructive Element.
I pointed them towards the Men's Lobby Restroom and told them about the cigarette. As we passed the bar, a lazy, drunken cheer went up for us. I lead them to the restroom door and the went it. I followed. The tarry smell of smoke lingered and the firemen pointed out the triggered smoke alarm. They radioed the info back to the other firemen and requested that they turn off the Fire Alarm.
We all headed back to the front of the theatre. As we passed the bar, the barflies cheered for us and just then the alarm siren and the strobes turned off and they cheered for that too. Outside the audience heard the alarms stop and they cheered too. And that's how I exited the theatre with the Firemen to wild applause.
I directed the audience back inside and they began the slow progression back inside. One of the girls from Second City ran up to me and said, "You should ask the firemen to stay and watch the second act."
So, I did.
They were busy undressing and packing up their gear, but they directed me to their Fire Chief and told me that they "would love to, if HE says it's okay." I asked the Fire Chief and he said that "would be fine, as long as someone stays with the truck." The firemen were all laughs and punches as they determined who should stay and who should go in. After they'd relieved themselves of their backpacks and their equipment, they followed me into the theatre. the barflies cheered for them again, this time with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
And that's how I came to lead six firemen back into the theatre and seated them in the back row.
The show resumed right where they left off, only now Hap ordered the "Four Alarm Chili," and the wacky cook said that they might "need some extra water. In fact, he'll bring the hose." And the audience cheered for every fire reference thereafter. The second act progressed from there and the audience raved for them. At the curtain call, Bumper, the actor who played Hap, thanked the audience and Leslie and then he thanked the Arlington Heights Fire Department and Leslie flashed the House Lights and everyone turned to see the Firemen and they cheered even louder. The firemen blushed and waved back.
As the audience exited, I heard many, many debates over the authenticity of the Fire Alarm and whether "Second City did that or not. They do that kind of crazy stuff, you know." I helped clean up the theatre and the last person out was Beth K. I made some lame joke about "doing that again, next week" and she laughed. On her way out of the house, she said casually, "You handled that really well," and she left. If you were to ask her today, that comment may not have meant much. She may not even remember saying it. But it assured me that she doesn't think I am total fuckup. It meant a lot to me.
The End.
Whew, a little longer in the retelling than I imagined, but I think it was worth it. At any rate, it was far better than the lame email attempts that I made before this. So, I will end the email now. For you, the regular viewers, this will conclude the anecdotal portion of this email. You might want to exit through the door marked "Delete"
In fact, here is a neat ending provided just out of consideration for you...
Be well,
Write Often.
Mr.B
For the rest of you, the folks I visited in Kentucky, the Personalized Messages begin below. Find yourself and the part meant just for you and enjoy.
My Improv MonkeysI want to thank you for taking my class down at Boone. You guys taught me so
much about the artform and how effective an egoless cohesion of actors can
be. You are very talented and smart actors, one and all. It was a pleasure to
share four days of exploration with you. For my part, I want to thank you all
for braving the early hours and giving so earnestly in class. You helped me
to feel like a good teacher again. I owe you far more than you owe me. Thank
you, each and every one of you. And now that we are writing to each other,
stay in touch. If you ever find yourself in my zip code, rest assured that
you have a couch waiting for you.
My Gracious Host and HostessI owe you guys far more thanks than a lovely potted flower can ever provide.
Thank you for watching my dog and allowing her to tear ass around your
backyard with your beautiful, but portly, child. Thank you for putting up
with my erratic schedule. Thank you for making a key for me. Thank you for
getting up at four thirty in the morning and unlocking the door for me and
for not being angry with me the next day. But most of all, and this one goes
out only to Jay, thank you for greeting me at the door, in the nude, big boy.
Now, that, made me feel welcome...
Seriously, thank you, thank you, thank you. Now look at your calendars and
see when I can return the favor. You can bring your fat child too.
Colonel MoIt was sooooooooo good to see you again. I want to thank you for working so
hard to make me feel a part of a summer that I was not a member of. I had
such a great time visiting and if you feel it would be a possibility, I would
like to do it again, next summer.
You looked wonderful. It was good to come home again. It was even better to
come home and not have to do the warm-ups, ever again. I thank you. My abs
thank you.
And Maggie told me that I have to say "HI" for her to you and Miss Bella.
We'll do it again, next summer.
Great Earth Mother Lewis
Ah, the days pass as we near the eminent arrival of your newest achievement.
Seeing you and your sweet, sweet baby was an odd mix of pride and complete
astonishment at the bizarre wonder of the reproduction process . You have
this LIVING THING inside your belly. And it moves! A lot!
How strange that the next time that I see you, your baby boy will be on the
outside of you and I might get to hold the little tike.
Babies scare me. Partially because they are so tiny and fragile and I am
always terrified that I am going to drop them or hurt them. And also because
when I was young, I saw the movie "It Lives" where the babies are horrible,
disfigured, cannibal mutants and one of them leaps up on the Milkman and rips
his jugular out and eats it. I remember vividly, the blood running in the
spilled milk.
So, you can see how scary babies can be.
I'm sure that you baby will not be a horrible, disfigured cannibal mutant and
that I can hold him and never fear the impending death strike. Just don't be
surprised if I wear a turtle neck sweater.
You are beautiful. You will have a beautiful baby. I am so happy for you.
Dr. Mike and ClanA short visit, but a sincere one. I love the fact that your monkeys are still
small enough for me to pick up and wrestle with. How many more summers can I
do that? It is always a pleasure to see them. Makes a guy feel important to
someone, if kids think he is cool. So, thank you for letting me visit with
them.
A big, thanks to Miss Margo, for allowing me to sit in on her rehearsal. She
made me feel welcomed and not at all, out of place. I enjoyed everything that
I saw there. My only regret, is that I would not get to see the show in all
of it's technical finery. Your direction is smart and sharp and very, very
nice. I wish I had the opportunity to work for you. Your rehearsals look like
such an open place, ripe for creativity. Maybe someday.
Dr. Mike, my good friend, thank you, for asking my opinion and genuinely
listening, when I gave it. Thank you for treating me with respect. Thank you
for giving me that gift. I take that quite seriously. Please know that it
comes back at you, with complete sincerity. It is an honor to call you my
friend.
Oh, you asked me to email you if I thought of anything else and I have. Here
'tis. Congratulations. You have done such a wonderful job, retooling The
Legend. It works. Now, you get to sit back and enjoy the process of fine
tuning and playing with the world that you have built. You have a fine cast
this summer and I would be disappointed if I did not see many of them again,
next summer. Enjoy the rest of the process, because now the fun part begins.
My hat is off to you. Bravo.
Master Pete Sears, Diviner of Future Events.My fellow email junky. I want to write you to thank you for taking some time
out of your schedule, to be present when I was in town. I got to know you, so
late in my stay in that city. You've really turned out to be such a good
friend.
Thank you for taking the time, to "Divine the future" with me. While I have a
hard time, accepting the concept of Fated Events, I can always use a new
perspective on Big Life Decisions. You have a talent there.
Oh, and I never told you how much I enjoyed your performance. Yours is a
role that can easily be undervalued by a performer. After all, you are not
the lead and you don't have all the best lines. But you played your part with
complete dedication and you were wonderful. Very, very funny. I hope you got
lots of positive feedback, because you definitely deserve it.
Come up to my city, if you find the time. I have feeling that you two would
fit, like peanut butter and jelly.
Saint Francis of Assisi Hardesty, His Lovely Wife and His LitterMy God, what a party.
I'll have you know, that I haven't thrown down like that, so many shots of
vodka, in many a day. It was just what I needed.
My brother, it was good to see you again. You are looking wonderful, healthy,
full of life. Happy. And I was glad to see it.
I also want to commend you on your performance as well. I have never seen you
perform in such a blatant screwball comedy. You acquitted yourself to the
character and the style with such enthusiasm. It was a pleasure to watch.
Forgive the allusion, but you reminded me of George Clooney in "O brother,
where art thou?" You played against your type, as he did, and your
enthusiasm, your unreserved dedication to the part, sold me on it. It was
damned funny, my friend. And you managed to drop your Scottish Dialect. I
imagine that took some time and effort.
Just kidding.
Madame Hardesty, you beautiful flower of a woman. Why, if I were a much
younger man and you were in my zip code, why, I would punch your beau right
in the nose and steal you away.
You look FANTASTIC. I mean, fucking FANTASTIC. Absolutely radiant! I know
I've already told you this, but it bears repeating. But, when I first saw you
and you smiled at me and you were too far away and I didn't know who you
were, I melted like a stick of butter on a Hot July Day. I must admit some
disappointment, to find that you weren't some foxy single lady, but it was
still a nice feeling. What a bright, joyful smile that you have. And thank
you for turning it my way.
You looked like you are also happy and having a wonderful time this summer.
So, it is easy for me to be happy for you both and enjoy your success from
afar.
And you have two new beautiful additions to your family. Let me just say,
that as a fellow dog owner, it brought joy to my heart to see the resignation
with which you dealt with your dog chewing on your coffee table. I remember
fully well, the time and hard work that you put into your lovely home. So,
that makes me appreciate even more, your warm parental urges towards your new
puppies. You valued your dog and his mental well being over the material
concerns of your coffee table and I think that's wonderful. I am so proud of
you both.
We will have to do this again, next summer.
Mister Tom PhillipsTom, I just want to drop you a small note, to let you know how great it wads
to see you again. I distantly remember feeling some stupid, petty feelings of
competition with you. I regret that I allowed that to get in the way of being
better friends with you, when we lived closer. It was so nice, to see you,
and not feel any of those stupid feelings.
I genuinely enjoyed seeing you. I look forward to seeing you again, next
summer.
I know I never told you this, when I lived there, but I mean it, you do good
work. I am impressed. Wish I had told you that sooner, but hey, better late
than never.
Mister LuckeyI will see you in a few short weeks, so I'll save my comments until then. I
will say this much, thanks for the book loan. It's every bit a good read as
you promised and that I anticipated. Can't wait for the movie to come out.
Sam CraigOr Matthew Logsdon, if you prefer. I am still blushing over the fact that I
clearly had no idea who you were and that you totally picked up on that fact.
I'm glad that one of us had the grace to rectify the situation.
I looked for you after the we initially talked and the crowd had somewhat
dissipated, but I could not find you and thus never told you what I wanted
to. I wanted to thank you, for telling me what you did, about your literary
club. Yours was the kindest compliment possible. The kind of compliment that
I will secretly carry with me, every time I sit down and apply fingers to
keyboard. I want to thank you for that wonderful gift. I owe you one.
Mother OstermanI tried to tell you everything that I thought of your performance while I had
you there, but the salient details remain. You were wonderful. Quietly
wonderful and I thoroughly enjoyed your performance. It was a pleasure to
watch.
I hope that it will please you to note that I talked with others about your
performance, and the response was unanimous. You are very, very talented. For
those who have been watching you, this comes as no surprise.
Bravo.
Miss SpriggsOh, Miss Spriggs, I cannot escape that fact that I have failed you. I owe you
an apology that not even four or five frantic phone messages can erase.
Here you went and left time for me to have a quiet visit with you and I blew
it.
If you were a Southern woman and I were a Southern man, you would never give
me the time of day again. Oh wait a minute, you are a Southern woman and I am
a Southern man.
Well, allow me to beg and plead and attempt to quietly cajole you into having
tea with me that next time that I find myself in your neck of the woods. I'll
even cover the tab.
Please do not hold this against me or allow this to color your opinion of me.
I may be tardy for everything, but it is rare that I just not show up.
Well, crap. This all sounds like bullshit.
Let me start over.
Miss Bianca,
I screwed up and missed a luncheon date with you, that I honestly wanted to
attend. If you would find it in your graces to make a luncheon date with me,
the next time that I am in your town, I would be grateful. And I will still
pick up the tab.
Again, effusive apologies.
Humbly Yours,
Mr.B
Henry Layton, you old dog!My brother, it was good to see you again. I am telling you this now. mark my
words, there are NO reputable fight people in this city like you, my friend.
I am telling you that there is a huge market here, waiting for you to step in
and make it your own. You need this city and this city needs you.
And for my own selfish reasons, it would be good to see you here, because I
can take you to bars and hit on the friends of the girls that come over to
hit on you. If I were to apply a natural metaphor to this, you would be the
Buffalo and I would be the little birds that sit on your back and eat the
shit that falls out of your mouth.
Well, that sounded unintentionally gay.
But you get the idea.
You are the bait and I am the predator and every single girl in this city is
the prey.
So, let's hop to it, my friend. Time is a wasting and you and I aren't
getting any younger. So, book your plane ticket now.
You fucker.
Lady Wellnitz's bothI sincerely apologize for subjecting you to such base and raw language, but
Henry Layton is a cad and he brings out the worst in me.
It was a pleasure seeing you both. I am sure that it was a pleasure for Dr.
Wellnitz to see me too. Sitting in your parlor, chatting, I felt the years
between our last visit melt away. It was a nice way to begin this trip home
again.
Thank you, Miss Amy, for inviting me out that night. Thank you for letting me
see your family again and reestablishing that tie. Thank you for going out to
get ice cream with me and talking into the wee hours of the morning. Thank
you for listening to me babble and for the your insightful thoughts on the
issues at hand. You are a good friend. You too, should look to your calendar
and see if you can't find time to come visit me. I would love to take you
into my city and completely change your opinion on the matter. I have faith
in myself as a tour guide and my city as the spectacle that it is. You will
be powerless to resist it's pull. I'm sorry, but that's a fact. And if that's
not enough, I'm here. What else could you possibly need? So, come see me.
Standing invite.
And to the Elder Misses Wellnitz, I encourage you to write me as frequently
as you find time to. I think you will find that I have bettered my skills as
a correspondent, almost to the point of being annoying. It will be nice to
hear from you again.
My Dear Aunt Becky and her clanYou can't imagine how strange it was to see you guys. It has been so long,
since October, since I saw everyone. it was just different. Combine that with
the fact that we were meeting in a place where I had never been and wild
animals were present. You can imagine how nervous I was.
Imagine my surprise at the ease with which everyone greeted me.
I was welcomed back and it felt like not a day had passed.
I hope that you guys had a good visit to Florida and that the storms didn't
rain down on you too hard. I saw news of the storms on the TV and thought of
you guys. I'm sure that you had no trouble finding other things to do,
though.
Also, I didn't write down Niki's email address. If you happen to think of it,
could you ask her for it and send it to me. I would love to get back in touch
with her. Let me know, if you find it somewhere.
I will see you some time this December.
Kevin TaylorMan, it was good to see you again, too.
I want to whip you out a quick note, to thank you for taking me to a pool and
putting me in it and requiring nothing further of me. I had booked myself
into so many visits with people, trying to let them know how much I value
them all, that I left no time for myself to just be. I am grateful that you
saw this problem and solved it, effortlessly. I thank you for giving me what
I needed, especially because I was not smart enough to know to ask for it.
And on a more material note, thank you for feeding me and feeding me well.
I look forward to your imminent arrival in this, the Finest City in the
World. Remind me to take you around in it.
Miss Tara and Mister TylerThis seems awkward, as I was just emailing you today, but I wanted to include
you on the list. I wouldn't want you to scroll down and not see yourself and
wonder why.
So, I'll respond to your email in detail tomorrow and use this space to say
something more important, like this.
HI TYLER!There, that's much better. Don't you think?
Let's wrap up this Nelly Love Fest!
Okay people's. that is all I have for now. I know I am forgetting someone. I
just don't know who. If you looked through this list and you did not see
yourself mentioned, please email me and let me share the kind thoughts that I
have for you. It is late in the evening in the Windy City and I drank far too
much last night with Ed Conkle. The fact that I got all of this out, is a
Minor Miracle.
So, Good Night or Good Day, as the case may be. You were all just lovely and
we'll do it all again, next year. Preferably dressed, Mister Henning.
Be well,
Write Often, You funny people!
Mr.B
PS. Here is some Random Libel about someone that is not likely to read this
email to the end. Did you know that McKenzie Baker is a Daisy Eater? That's
right! She discovered the hallucinatory effects of the common yard daisy
several summers ago, in Kentucky and has been hooked ever since. It's not
uncommon, to see her dancing naked in the sunlight, in someone's front yard,
mouth smeared with a yellow haze, laughing at jokes told to her, by people
who are not there. It is really a sad sight and were it not for the fact that
she does an excellent job of de-weeding the front yard, I would make some
sort of effort to stop her. Please send help, if you can.
