'Tis unmanly grief.

The first week of tour is in the books.  It was filled with the usual problems we encounter, such as the first time we build the tour set (for both shows) takes forever and gets everybody hot and bothered, and settling in to an earlier call time and start time is an adjustment.
  But it also is the first time we alternate between shows.  This is the first time I've actually acted in both shows for many years, and it took about two days into tour to remember just how tough it is.  Going to a different park every day (or being in the same park two days in a row and having to change the set) is challenging on so many levels.  One part of me is so proud of those of us in both shows (especially this year where we are all really showing the most extreme parts of our acting range), but the other part of me is already exhausted thinking about the next three weeks.

Plus, I'm dealing with the PTS. (It's sort of strange, knowing that there are more people reading this blog right now than my usual four to six readers because I don't really filter my thoughts here...I just write from my heart.  But I know there are so many kind and wonderful people checking in on me, that I feel the need to let you all know that I'm doing "ok"). I am and I'm not. Sunday we were in Palos Verdes, and other than a couple of spoiled rich kids trying to steal our donation box, I felt very safe.  Set up took a long time, but that's the deal for the first tour date.  We had a solid show, for a small but appreciative audience. Wednesday, we took Twelfth Night to Valley Park at Hermosa Beach.  I've made no secret that this is my favorite spot.  I have loved it since we first started going there.  In fact, when we came back to do live shows after the pandemic, even though we only did shows at Point Fermin, I spent my days in Hermosa walking around in circles, learning my lines for Richard III.  It feels like home, especially now that Pt. Fermin feels dangerous.  Doing the show there on Wednesday was the first time I can remember being truly happy since I was attacked.  I felt safe, and loved, and free.  We even went out for drinks after.  This was the first time I had gone out after dark since I was attacked.  And it was great!  I remembered what I loved about this thing we do. 

(How I feel every second I spend in the dark these days)

Thursday was a different story.  We did our first Hamlet on tour, and the set was a problem (it always is on the first day of tour). Fortunately, we were able to leave the base from Twelfth Night up, so we only started a few minutes late.  We were missing a set of legs, the set didn't fit the way it should have, and half the cast (including me) was late.  So, we walked into Hermosa on that second night at a deficit.  Sadly, my system is on hyper alert, and I am very susceptible to stressful emotions, so it was a rough start for me.  We started a bit late, and quite rushed, and yet had a great show!  It really is a joy to be in two shows that are so vastly different and yet so good.  But I was a bit of a mess after the show, just because I'm a bit of a mess at baseline these days and I didn't get that boost I usually do from doing good work.

Friday, we took Twelfth Night to Long Beach. I had my usual 4 O'clock panic attack about going, but luckily my bestie Tara picked me up and took me.  I'm not usually a person who needs support (physical or emotional) but having my best friend pick me up and take me to a show and distract me for that hour drive makes such a difference.  Tara says she's happy to be the Tigger to my Eeyore.  I don't know that I could have continued this season without that support. It makes me feel like a weak little baby to say it, but it's true.  Climbing into my car and going to the show fills me with such anxiety, that I probably would have bailed after those gang-bangers attacked me.  Nevertheless, my GenX "man up" philosophy is being severely challenged by being so "weak." (I only put that in quotes because people keep telling me to stop calling myself weak and a baby.  If only they knew that I subconsciously whisper to myself how much I hate myself several times a day, they would have bigger fish to fry...but enough of that).

Long Beach was mostly a good night.  We knew we couldn't fit the whole set in that park. So we set up what we could and had some time to spare. However, we did have a bunch of people on bicycles ride around the park, the leaders of whom were screaming obscenities at us.  It happened when Brendan and I were onstage. My four readers know how much I love Brendan.  But I want to let those of you who are new to this blog just how special this cat is.  He held onto me, while this endless stream of bicycle riders rode up to the stage and circled us is, and I felt safe. They were ultimately harmless, but tell that to somebody dealing with Post Traumatic Stress... Anyway, we paused until that army of geniuses finally left.  Brendan, as Sir Andrew improvised a line about how wild Illyria was and we survived.  After the show, one of our cast members got an injury dealing with the truck load.  We have had too many injuries this summer.  Fortunately, he was back tonight, and crushed it.

Saturday and Sunday we were in Rossmore.  This is where they usually film our shows.  And on Saturday they did.  The Hamlet set went up pretty well.  We actually had time to think before we started.  I felt pretty in the moment as Claudius on Saturday, although I butchered some lines.  But that happens.  I'd much rather be present and alive and jumble some words than do some rote regurgitation of lines that are technically correct.  But the best thing about Rossmore was that my dear friends Brett and Fara came out to the show.  Brett told me that his first contract job as an actor was when he and I did a production of Hamlet at the Bathhouse Theatre in Seattle in the early 2000s.  I had done a few before that, but not many.  And those years I spent at that theatre cutting my teeth as a professional were instrumental to me being the artist I am today.  His wife, Fara, is a terrific actor, but also stage managed my one man show about Thoreau the first time I did it.  I love them so much!  They moved down here not long after I did in the late 90's, but it's so hard to get together here, especially when kids are involved.  But they always turn up when I need them, and Saturday was no exception.  Their presence made me feel so safe.  They had read my last few blogs, and just wanted to be there.  I know it gave Brett FOMO and nostalgia from our production three decades ago, but he had nothing but kind words.  And just being near Fara makes me happy.  I kept hugging her, and unlike a normal human responding to such a thing, she kept hugging me back with such love and care that I felt truly safe. (safety is a big thing for me these days, I guess). 

Tonight was the end of our first week of tour.  A very long week indeed.  I told the cast not to expect many laughs tonight, because the park we were in is notoriously quiet, also it's so spread out and flat that you can't hear reaction even if it is there.  But, this crowd was (dare I say) raucous? because they were all in on all of it from the start.  I have to say that I am super happy that the twin stuff is playing.  My Viola and Sebastian couldn't look more different from one another than they do. And yet, with the costuming and staging, all of our audiences (so far) are more than willing to suspend their disbelief.  More than that even, they are excited to make believe with us. This was one of my secret fears.  But these audiences have showed that Shakespeare's words are enough to prove the likeness of two totally dissimilar people.  

We have a couple of weeks left.  Come see our shows if you can.  I am proud of both of them.  I have also decided that this will be my final summer with Shakespeare by the Sea.  I've just hit that point in my life where I need easier and safer work.  These last two decades have been amazing and I have been so fortunate to play the roles I've played, and worked with so many wonderful and talented people, that it's hard for me to admit that it's time to move on.  I also won't be doing the final two performances this year which are back at Pt. Fermin Park.  It was a matter of pride for me to go back after I was attacked, but I was a mess.  (It didn't help that I actually saw the guys who attacked me the week before in the park one night, at least I think it was them...either way it was very damaging).  

I'm also questioning whether or not I can keep acting at all.  I have literally given up so much to this career.  And what do I have to show for it?  A really strong resume full of great roles, countless missed weddings and vacations, and near poverty.  I'm not going to give it all up yet, but if there was anything else I could do, I would jump at it.

So, that's where I am today.  My thumb is getting better (although the move, and set builds have slowed the healing down).  I am also getting better psychologically.  I have had some fun and laughed in this past week.  I'm still a jumpy little baby, but I'm taking baby steps.