Okay, this is it. We're packing up everything loose right now. That means the computer gets unplugged. We leave for Tennessee tomorrow morning. I'll post again once we unpack the computer. Maybe that's this weekend, maybe next week... who knows?
Until then, follow me on Twitter. I'll have lots of stupid updates. I promise to do some foolish things and then tell you about it. Find me @thecachinnator.
See you in TN!
It's moving time, Cachinnatees. I've completed my work at the Waco Performing Arts Company. I got my successor ready and I stabilized the organization beyond what should have been possible. Now Beeki and I are headed to Nashville, TN. We leave on Wednesday.
What are our plans, you ask? Well... it depends on what you mean by "plans." If by "plans" you mean a place to live, jobs, and such... then... no. We have no plans.
But if by "plans" you mean grand dreams and hopes, then we've got plans! We're out to make a difference in our world. We're out to see Art and Ministry go together without embarrassing church dramas and bathrobes on Joseph and Mary. We're out to create good Art and great Theatre. We're out to make sure that we leave things better than we found them.
We'd like jobs too, but whatever. I can always con my way into a job. We're not worried. I'll keep you posted. Wish us luck, and we'll see you in Nashville!
The coin purse on the left has been my constant companion for thirteen years. Let's put that in perspective, shall we? I've had that coin purse over twice as long as I've known my wife. When I got that coin purse, Clinton hadn't yet begun his second term. I bought that coin purse a decade before anyone would use the idiotic word "metrosexual." Since buying that coin purse, I've received a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and a Master of Divinity degree. I've been licensed as an interpreter for the Deaf and as a minister. I've successfully run a business and performed in New York City. That coin purse has traveled from Texas to Spain. It's older than a Jonas Brother and only a few years younger than Mylie Cyrus. It's a teenager.
So what's the story, eh? Why's it so important? It's important because I bought it at Georgetown Leather after graduating from high school. I needed a place to hold all my change because, like any person with half a clue, I realized that carrying around a bunch of loose change in my pocket was stupid. But I needed something masculine. After all, I was about to pursue a career in musical theatre.
So I chose this one. Leather. Brown. Sturdy. Masculine. Did I throw it away when one of the pins came out of the hinge? Nope. Check out that far left hinge. I just twisted off a little paper clip in it and pretended nothing happened. Did I toss it when the seam on the right side split? Nope, I just turned it hole-side-up in my pocket. It still worked... ish.
But, I've reached a time in my life when I'm having to let go of things. I need to move on. In a few weeks I move to Nashville, Tennessee. It's a new start for me. And let's face it, the world is a different place. I don't carry as much change anymore. I use debit cards and what not. But even though it's time to finally say goodbye to my manly little coin purse, I'll never forget how it outlasted governments and girlfriends, degrees and jobs, states and nations, and of course pennies and quarters.
God bless Georgetown Leather. God bless Potomac Mills Mall. And God bless America.
Beeki and I are in the process of moving, so there's not much time for blogging these days. But I came across this video courtesy of my father, The Colonel. As many of you know, my mother is from Waco, TX. While that may seem a foreign or strange place to some of you, it's nothing compared to where my father comes from. He was raised in Nazareth, Israel. I was blessed to live in Israel when I was a child, and I have many fond memories of Nazareth. I'll share more about my family history there, but for now, check out this video portrait of the city that makes up half of my family roots:
I just can't deal anymore. The world has gotten too crazy for me. I have lost my ability to tell when Forky's full of crap. The actual news is so strange that I have no idea what's actually true.
A few weeks ago, Forky and I are talking, and he starts yammering on about "swine flu." I think it's the funniest thing I've ever heard and proceed to nickname it 'baconitis.' I tell him that I have no idea what he's talking about, but it sounds delicious.
Later that day, I turn on the news and realize he wasn't full of crap at that particular moment.
Then tonight he calls me and starts talking about how the FDA was cracking down on Cheerio's. I again laugh and mock him before making a shocking confession: I've been freebasing Cheerio's for years. I can't be stopped. I'm a Cheerio fiend.
Minutes later, I again turn on the news only to be confronted by the truth of his story.
Can't. Do. It. Can't take it anymore. I couldn't make up swine flu or an FDA crackdown on Cheerio's. Reality is way too close to Forky's bullcrap.
Have I mentioned how a reputable theatre company violated their contract, lied to me repeatedly, committed fraud, cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars, threw my theatre into chaos, threatened to undo the past four years of work that I've been doing, and sullied my reputation with my audiences?
Yeah. So I've been a bit busy. I've been Twittering, but not blogging. I just haven't had the attention span for more. Now Beeki and I are getting ready to move to Nashville. No, we don't have jobs or a place to live. I don't even really know what I'm going to do. Meh. Details. Beeki graduates with her MFA this Saturday, on my 31st birthday. And on Monday, I start bootcamp to try to get in shape.
I'll probably have a lot more to say in coming days and weeks about getting ready to move and transitioning to Nashville. Hope you're all well.
The Cachinnator's entire CD collection is for sale. Email me if you'd like a copy of the list. Seriously, there's every genre here. Broadway musicals, opera, 80's metal, oldies, CCM, pop, etc. And they're cheap.
The Cachinnator is now available for translation into Hindi. To all of my readers in the Indian Subcontinent, "You're welcome."
This Sunday, I'll be reading the part of Dracula in a new play. It has its first public reading at 7:30pm Sunday at Baylor Theatre. You should all totally attend if you can. Follow along on Twitter or check the feed to the right for more details. Below is the footage I'm using as my inspiration for the role:
Cachinnatees, tonight Beeki and I shall partake in a Titanic Dinner. What's that, you say? Well, it's a re-creation of the last meal served above the Titanic. It's eleven courses, each with its own drink pairing.
It may be the greatest eating experience that can be had.
So today on The Poprah, Beeki was watching couples going through marriage troubles because one of them lost their job, their six-figure income, and their butler. The economy is forcing them to... *gasp*... do their own laundry!
But there was this one couple that disagreed over why the wife was so unhappy after she lost her job. The husband said, "Ummm... I think it's all in her head."
Beeki looks at me and says, "Uh-uh. You do not out your wife on Oprah."
To which I responded with a series of statements that went like this:
"Oprah... I think Beeki's crazy."
"Oprah... I think Beeki's nuts."
"Oprah... I think Beeki's cuckoo."
"Oprah... I blame Beeki's sleep toots for my morning confusion and fleeting psychosis."
We found this funny... but only because we both knew that if I actually said those things to The Poprah, I'd die. A horrible painful death. Assisted by women everywhere.
So the vast majority of you thought I would play the doctor who told the little girl she was going to die. It wasn't even close! No one even suggested that I might have played... I don't know... her guardian angel or something. Or a nice neighbor who made pancakes for her. Or her big brother who pushed her out of the way of oncoming traffic or something.
Thanks a lot.
But, yes, I did play the doctor who tells her she's going to die.
Jerks.
I could have saved her life! Or something. I'm good.
Dammit.
So I told you a few days ago that I was in a movie this past summer. And then it was your turn to guess who I played in the movie. Well, now theres a poll on the right where you can vote from among the suggestions. Up for vote are:
- A Druggie
- The doctor who tells the girl she's going to die
- A Nazi
- Repair guy porn star
- The little girl
Vote away. And by the way, thanks for all the confidence that I could have been a good guy. This should be interesting.
So... now I Twitter.
I resisted for a very long time.
But then I thought of my grandfather. See, my grandfather calls me every now and then. I always answer, because he's 90 and I'm afraid he's dead. (Well aware that if he were dead he couldn't call me. But someone else could be dead. Or someone else could be calling me on his phone with the bad news. I'm just being honest about what goes through my head.) But he's never dead, he just can't figure out his email or Word.
And trying to talk him through it - over the phone - is a bit like teaching a blind person to read an African clicking dialect. Over the phone.
I don't want to be like that over the years. I'd like to stay somewhat current. Ergo: Twitter.
I'm hip. I'm with it. dukka-dukka-dukka-dukka-dukka-dukka-dukka
And you should follow me. (That's Twitter talk for subscribe to my tweets. More Twitter talk there.) Click the link on the right. Or just log in to Twitter and find me. I'm thecachinnator.
I promise to tweet stupid stuff, tmi, and useless information.
