Humiliation at the Hands of Musical Theater

Picture Unrelated

Musical theater is dead, continuing only to exists in order to haunt and mock the living art form that is musical cinema. Like the The Shining, Poltergeist and Beetlejuice, this shell of a an entertainment avenue serves to delude the minds of those that encounter it. While at first glance the theater is enticing, like a Jamaican lottery scam, it’s only after you offer yourself to it that you are rejected, mocked and given over to abject humiliation. Oh, certainly there are those that serve the cult of live drama. They feed off of the naivety of the general public, proclaiming that local theater is “good for the community” and a “perpetrator for the arts”. Their lies are sweet and their thieving ways steal not earthly valuables but dignity and precious time.

I’ll be the first to admit that my above hypothesis is ironic. For someone that claims to loathe the dramatic art of musical theater, I am over acting more than Brendan Fraser in *insert anything he’s ever been in here*. I, as the above may suggest, have been humiliated by false visions of grandeur stemming from a local musical production. There are exactly two musicals that are capable of causing me to forget myself. I love them so much, that if an opportunity were to present itself, I would consider the unfathomable: auditioning. And so it was, when I heard that Little Shop of Horrors was being produced at the small theater in town, the wheels began to turn. That evil voice began to whisper sweet lies into my ear “maybe you’re not tone deaf anymore”.

I first presented the idea of auditioning to my wife. She was supportive, but more honest about my singing ability than anyone else would be. Having survived a number of road trips with me either riding shot-gun or driving, she was the foremost authority on my singing abilities. “No” I thought. “Was she there at that Japanese Karaoke house when I sang Lola? She was not! She doesn’t know what I’m capable of”. If only I had listened, I would have realized she knew precisely what I was capable of. Yet, she stuck by me. My co-workers, however were worse. exclamations of what a good idea it was bombarded me from anyone that heard that there was even an inkling of possibility. When I was still hesitant the bribes started coming. All said and done, when I agreed that I would make a fantastic Seymour Krelborn, I had come out with 2 bags of hot cheetos and some australian soft licorice.

With my intentions set, I let Shannon know I meant business. The singing portion of the audition was to last 30 seconds. That didn’t sounds so bad. Sure it was 30 seconds without accompaniment. 30 seconds in front of people that lived for musical theater. 30 seconds on a stage, With the closest thing to a tune I had carried in my life being a small portion of a grand piano, and even that was difficult. So, I practiced. My wife listened to me sing 30 seconds of Build me up Buttercup dozens upon dozens of times. She was obviously concerned for my dignity, because normally she doesn’t take much interest when I get these hairbrained ideas. This time, however she critiqued and encouraged, she sat on the couch and listened to what could have easily been equated to a flock of bloated penguins playing frogger with a steam roller. That voice though, not mine, but the devious little liar. It kept on whispering to me. “You love Little Shop” it hissed, sounding famished, ravenous. “You need this. We need this. I NEED THIS. Feed me, Daniel!”. Was I sounding better? I was. I was finally getting it! I was Clem Curtis, lead singer of The Foundations re-incarnated. That is if Clem Curtis had died, of course. With a sigh, Shannon wished me luck as I stepped out our front door and into my destiny.

Arriving at the Claire VG Theater in Downtown Lynden, I had my picture taken and wrote down the roles I was auditioning for. No chorus line for me, no sir. I was going big or taking my talents elsewhere. First choice: “Seymour Krelborn”. As I entered the theater, I was instructed that first singing auditions would be held then we would need to stay for the remainder, that would have some read throughs and other activities. My heart was pounding. I have a hard time not panicking when standing in front of crowds let alone SINGING in front of them. And let me tell you, as someone that spent his entire K through High School career homeschooled, I was not socially accustomed to people that do theater all the time… for fun. I mean, good on these people for loving their craft so much, but it was apparent that I was outclassed and out of my element. And when I get outclassed or nervous, I start to find things funny. And people warming up their voices is funny. I soon found out there was a very good reasoning behind such exercises.

I shuffled in and said hello to the one person that I knew there. I sat down shortly before the first person was called up to sing their bit, and I honestly don’t know how they did because I was dreading getting on that stage, there were Phantoms in places like this that killed you if you were a bad enough singer and shamed their theater… aren’t there? It wasn’t until that moment that I truly realized what an egregious error I had made. That inner voice that boosted me with the intoxicating idea of stardom was now shrieking in laughter like some kind of sick, sentient hyena. Like Ariel, I had lost my voice and the villainous wretch was loving it. I calmed myself. I was one of the last people to show up to the audition so I would have time to mentally prepare myself. Even if it was done alphabetically by last name, Robison was a safe bet for later on. The first person sat down to enthusiastic claps and cheers. Good, ok, starting to calm down. “Daniel Robinson” close call, my name is-“no, sorry, Robison. No N in the middle”. I’ve never been smacked upside the face with a regulation slowpitch softball bat, but I imagine if I had I might see a brilliant, blinding flash of off-white before my vision returns to a small tunnel of it what it should be. That’s kind of what happened when I heard my name. I was called to go second. There was no logical reason for me to go second, it was against all reason. I later found out that a lack of reason and sense is a trait the theater folk pride themselves on.

Physically, I’ve learned to mask the majority of my emotions. The exceptions being grief, fear, pain, joy and disgust. Vocally, however, I quickly learned I have little control. As I ascended to the stage, it felt as if I had been munching on a bag of dry cement dust just moments before. I could barely breath, let alone sing. Yet, I prevailed, knowing that if I didn’t complete what I had set out to do that I may very well lose the package of licorice sitting in a drawer at work. I wasn’t about to risk that. So I sang. Or rather, I began to until the warbles kicked in. It was like I was a cartoon character trying to vocalize while underwater and the sound comes out popping like bubbles. But that wasn’t nearly as bad as when my voice just said “screw it, I’m out” and left the stage before I did. That’s right, after what felt to be about seven hours into my 30 seconds, my voice and all the air in my lungs took off. I stood there, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish sitting at the bottom of a boat waiting to be clunked over the head so as to be easier to filet before being smoked for dinner. And then, when I finally surrendered myself to the fact that the sound wasn’t coming back on and no one was going to unmute me, I stopped moving my mouth and stood there. I composed myself and said something I’ll never forgive myself for. “I’ve uh…. never sung in front of a crowd.” I made an excuse for myself, and it was an abysmal one. But that wasn’t the worst of it. After I whimpered out my pathetic apology for what was about as good a performance as my 1st grade church Christmas Pageant with less cute little kids and more awkward grown man; they began to clap. Loudly. Each slap of their palm was like a strike to my face. Every clap caused my cheeks to flush a little more crimson. I’m certain no mal-intent was present, but boy, when you screw up it’s not like Cool Runnings where you feel good for finishing. I returned to my seat, laughing in embarrassment, realizing I had better just buckle down and enjoy the rest of the audition because they asked us not to leave.

Thankfully, after many auditions I felt I could relax a little. I was called to read some lines and that was actually quite enjoyable. Mostly because it had nothing to do with music. But then, sitting down again I heard something that indicated the audition was not quite over yet. “Alright, we’re going to do some choreography now”. Despite what three, maybe four people at my brothers wedding this summer will tell you, I have no sense of rhythm. That’s putting it mildly, I hardly have control over my body, let alone enough control to make it react appropriately to music. But I danced, or rather flailed. I spun the wrong way, I was stiff as a board and I just about fell off the stage. I was laughing all the way out the door, but it wasn’t like the good kind of laughing. It was the kind of laughing when you’re being tickled just slightly more than you’re being hurt and you’re really quite uncomfortable. I learned many valuable lessons that evening. First I was never to audition for a musical again. Second was that musical theater was not thriving, it wasn’t even dying, in my mind it was absolutely dead. NIt had not perished due to the lack of talent for those involved with the production, on the contrary they were all quite impressive. It is deceased in my mind due to my own personal vendetta against it for luring me in, deceiving me and spitting in my eye. It will not happen again… Unless my greatest fear comes to fruition and an open casting call for The Pirates of Penzance is announced.  

This November I am Thankful for the Christmas Season

Today, I am going to buy my first carton of Eggnog of the season and I am going to sit down and watch one of the most under-appreciated Christmas TV specials of all time. "A Muppet Family Christmas" is a made-for-TV special that features The Muppets, Sesame Street and Fraggle Rock spending Christmas with Fozzy's mother at her farm house. Currently the only DVD version available is horribly butchered due to licensing issues. However, you can watch it in it's entire 47 minute glory on Youtube. Or, you know what? Lets just put it right here.

PAXing it up: My Top 5

The Penny Arcade Expo has become the mecca to all game loving nerds. It’s essentially a four day feast in which developers give consumers a chance to test out new games, and see what's in store for the future. It also offers opportunities to revisit or discover games that have been on the market for a while. This was my first year attending, and while I only managed to make it to the last two days I think I got the basic gist of it. Deodorant is optional and you can pass gas anywhere you want because with 75,000 people crowded together no one will hear anything and it will be impossible to pinpoint the source. I managed to get my NES Tetris cartridge signed by the creator of the game,Alexey Pajitnov, which I was pretty excited about. While in line I also learned something that I should have assumed all along, pro-gaming is taken seriously. Projected on a giant screen above the autograph line were two gentlemen in suits commentating on a pro Halo match and it sounded almost exactly like a football game.

Anywho, I’m going to give my top five games I experienced while at PAX Prime 2014. Shmee also has a similar list, which I recommend checking out.

1. Fortnight

I need to preface this with a few things. I was fed all the delicious food I could eat (including bacon maple donuts as an horderve)  and given absolutely anything I wanted to drink while playing this game. Then to top things off I was given a T-shirt and mousepad. That combined with the exclusivity of the event and the atmosphere of where we played it made it the best part of my PAX experience. That aside, Fortnight was an absolute blast to play. You and a team of 3 friends must farm resources by destroying your generated environment, then take the gained resources and build forts and weapons to defend against zombies that come at night.

The most apt description of this game is a mixture of Team Fortress 2 and Minecraft. It’s hilarious how you can destroy almost anything to get resources, and the AI associated with the monsters is always changing in order to adapt to your strategy. Different levels gave us different goals, so we had a chance to try out a lot of what the game had to offer.

2. Shadow Run: Crossfire

The Shadowrun universe enters the tabletop deck builder world. It’s definitely not a casual gaming card game...which is kind of a bummer. It was a blast to play, and the cooperative game play was unique and only rivaled by the combat system.

I was really impressed with the ease of learning the game combined with the large amount of possibilities associated with a deck builder. True to the Shadowrun universe, runners can upgrade themselves by the use of "karma" a type of currency used to buy new skills for the next time you play. It’s expensive and has some quirks that I could have done without, but it’s a blast.

3. Valiant RPG

Valiant Entertainment is home to a group of little known comic book characters that I was completely unaware of until having an opportunity to play a Tabletop RPG based in their universe. I felt that the demo didn’t give enough time to fully understand or enjoy the setting of the RPG, but the rules were dead simple, which is insanely awesome. When you approach something like Shadowrun or Pathfinder, you’re dealing with a dictionary full of rules that can cause your gaming sessions and character creation to drag on for a proverbial eternity. I showed up after the rules were explained, sat down and was able to pick up the rules as we played. Despite having such a lite rule set, the game wasn’t lacking. you got to RP as superheroes, and it was easy to learn.

I got the opportunity to play as a super bubbly teenage girl with the ability to fly.

4. Slap .45

Essentially a simplified and themed version of egyptian War (rats/rat slap/rat screw/rat kill/whatever you call it). Each player has 6 lives and there is a deck with 3 types of cards. If you’re the first to slap the gun card and point at another player they lose a life, unless they managed to slap their base in time to protect themselves. If you slap the cannon and point the player loses a life regardless of if they slapped their base. If a bronco card pops up the first person to slap it loses a life, or the last person to slap their base if no one slapped the deck.  

It’s a simple, quick indie card game that’s competitive and gets your heart rate going. They’ve successfully completed their kickstarter so it should be hitting shelves soon. Or you can still back them and pre-order it for yourself.

5. Disney Fantasia Music Evolved

Disney teamed up with Harmonix to create a more organized rhythm based Fruit Ninja. Using the Xbox Kinect, The game has the players perform a number of hand motions in order to gain points. The basic idea is that you’re conducting an orchestra. While not the most original concept, and certainly hitting on some familiar territory, that didn’t prevent Disney from going all out on their booth. I played it twice and enjoyed myself probably more than I had any right to. It’s a silly dancing game, in the same vein as just dance, sans silly moves. Like Guitar hero, the music is dependent on your motions matching those on screen. When you’re in the midst of it, you and another player are syncing movements and controlling every inch of the music (not really, but it feels like it). There are other elements to the game, but I’m sure anyone can understand the basic gist, and if I owned an Xbox, I would be buying this.

Here's a little game-play footage for you.

Everything's Free at the Library!

A credit card you never have to pay off. 

They were right! They were all right! The library is absolutely fantastic! Before this starts sounding like a min-90s PSA for the benefits provided to the community by the library and the cultural and sentimental value it provides, I want to just emphasize this one fact: everything is free at the library. Probably the single biggest physical media cache in your area is offering everything it has for you to borrow, for free. If it isn't at your particular library, you can go online and literally have other libraries send you what you want. Sure it's not going to satisfy the instant gratification offered by internet services, and maybe it won't be as quick as ordering a movie or book off of Amazon prime. BUT IT'S FREE!

My local library has an online catalog that allows me to log into my account and search for items at any library in the county. I can reserve items and when they're available I get an e-mail saying it is available for me to pick up at my local branch. Look into doing this for yourself. I have consumed thousands of dollars worth of books and movies over the last few years of rediscovering the library. Here are examples of what the library has to offer.

Cascades of books!

Books: Kind of a no brainier, but when I moved up to Washington, I decided to spice up my evenings by reading this author I had heard about by the name of H.P Lovecraft. At this point in my life I was living in a trailer on my future in-laws driveway. Needless to say, my discovery of the father of modern horror was a fun re-introduction to the free bookstore.

It's like reading, but with more pictures.

Comic Books: Back in the day, my library card was solely used to rent absence amounts of Garfield comic collections. I spent hours, reading funnies in the library, and when it was time to go checking them out by the dozens. That has remained largely the same, with the addition of graphic novels and larger more "serious" comic collections. Lately I've started the Sandman, Astonishing X-men, and Bone series. Anytime a new Marvel film approaches theaters, I tend to rent a few comics in the series, most of which are in the system.

E-ink is your grandma's technology. 

E-books: I literally don't even have to leave my house to access the most convenient form of reading there is. I own a Kindle Fire HD and am capable of borrowing library books for free in the Kindle format. I download the book and it stays on all my devices for 2 weeks (after which I can renew or request to borrow it again at the soonest time possible). I then can access it on my kindle, phone and any web browser I have access to. 

Fine cinematic art is at your disposal.

Movies: This method takes far more patience than is culturally customary. It's not Netflix, VOD or Hulu or any other service that equates to instant gratification. It's not even Redbox, but it's cheaper than all of those options. What I've found to be effective is to keep a running list of movies that I want to watch eventually on my library account. Right now I have Saving Mr. Banks, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure and Apocalypto sitting at home. I only watch about 3/4 of the movies I check out from the library, but my options are always there, and sometimes I can find DVD's that aren't available for streaming at all. 

It's like a physical iTunes.

Music and Audio Books: Seemingly the biggest loophole in the RIAA's ongoing war against illegal music downloads seems to be sanctioned by the US government. Libraries offer a huge collection of music on CD, again you can request any album in the system across multiple libraries in the area. Even more attractive to me as a commuter is the vast array of audio books available over multiple formats. These things sell for large chunks of money and you're probably only going to listen to them once. Or you can just borrow one and call it good.

You can get even more from your local library, everything from community events, free usage of the latest consumer reports and a number of other programs. It's one big free bookstore, and there are tons of them all over the country. Utilize them, they are fantastic. 

I Present to You: The Yellowhead Jawfish

Shannon, my wife, and I have made it a little tradition to visit a Zoo or Aquarium and an Ikea on our wedding anniversary. We do this because it is a refining process for our relationship. The trip tests the metal of our union because every minute that I spend in Ikea is a minute I am not spending in the Zoo, and every minute we spend in the Zoo is a minute that Shannon isn't in Ikea. While the impressive array of flat crate furniture at discount prices is fun for the first hour, no amount of Swedish meatballs and lingonberry juice can equate to the sheer joy I experience whilst gazing at lazy walruses.

 We switched things up a little this year and hit up Ikea first. The most disappointing part of that trip was realizing I couldn't afford the doll beds that seamlessly turn into adorable cat beds. The highlight was that I bought a second long handled shoe-horn, which is one of the greatest inventions known to man, because it saves your fingers from turning into flesh jam when you try to squeeze your heel into a shoe that already has it's laces tied. Also, we bought a hedgehog.

15 meatballs and a new entry bench later we were on our way to The Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium. The Zoo/Aquarium combo was pretty neat, neither one was very large, but I did get to pet a Millipede, which was alright. The real treat came while I was perusing the small aquarium (alone, I might add. My lovely wife has a crippling fear of being under water and of sharks.) and I came across a small tank containing a fish that looked like it was strait out of Spongebob. The thing looked like it was standing upright when it held still and used it's mouth as shovel to dig holes in the sand. It would swim over to a mound of sand, take a large mouthful, swim a ways away and seemingly belch it out. It was fantastic. I took a little video and turned it into a gif for you guys!...You're welcome.

Anyway, this little guy stems from the Caribbean and- you know, you can just check out the wikipedia page if you're actually interested, I'm not going to sit here and type the article to you, I just wanted to show you a fish that eats sand and then throws it up! 

*Side note: Shannon is the greatest woman in the world, and I don't mind going to Ikea with her; It's just that sometimes it takes a long time, and you can only look at shelving brackets for so long before you snap. 

Masks of Nyarlathotep Session 1

I've been particularly fond of Pen and Paper Role Playing Games (RPG) for a little while now, and we recently started up a new game. We're playing the Call of Cthulhu system, which is a horror based Role Playing game set in the 1920s. We threw together a crew mixed with some of the regular guys I game with as well as some completely new to the style of gaming, and I decided to try out my new "Blue Snowball USB Microphone" and recorded our first session. The game play clocked in at nearly five hours in one evening. So if any of you were interested in just how these types of games are played, you might give it a listen!

Thug Life.

I pride myself with having very few run ins with the law. To date I have never been pulled over while driving, I've never even been given a parking ticket. What I'm getting at is simply this: Despite my bragging, I have not lived the thug life. I can think of two specific run ins with the police that I would consider even remotely exciting, and one of those times I hadn't seen them, they were just called to deal with us ( a big misunderstanding that perhaps I'll write about some day.) The instance I will re-iterate to you today happened while I was in school at the Master's College in Santa Clarita California. I won't use any names, but I'm sure those of you reading this that were involved will know who you are.

I graduated from college with a degree in Communications with and emphasis in Electronic Media. As such I was required to take classes in which I had the opportunity to work on and lead various video production projects. The class I had taken this semester was Video Production II, which required a group of students, as well as myself to work under the direction of another student in bringing together one ambitious project. Our director (We'll call her Stacy) knew a gentleman (Whom we'll call Sam) that played the guitar and sang songs. It was Stacy that decided we should make a music video for Sam. I have no problem with music videos, as a matter of fact I quite like a few music videos (I'm particularly keen on the music video for Twisted Sister's "We're Not Going to Take It".)

The Master's College has no Film major. I break away from the story to tell you this because it's important to know that about half of the people involved with electronic media minors at the school fancied themselves "Film" Majors. They were not, I was not, there was simply a Communication Major with and emphasis in Electronic Media. In my experience, Film majors (and those that fancy themselves as such) are a bit more artsy than myself. Certainly I learned to appreciate artistic expression more than before, but that didn't mean I intended to paint myself red and film an abstract video showcasing the horrors of American consumerism in a completely abstract way. There were a lot of very talented people at Master's that considered themselves part of the Film Major, Stacy was in that camp.

The music video, it was clear from the get-go was going to be artsy. I was given the task of creating a junk yard scene in which two young children would dance and then fall down amidst a cloud of billowing smoke and die... or something. Anyway, when all was said and done I was quite proud of the set I had helped create. The entire video was shot inside a warehouse, each wall had a particular set and we simply created numerous sets and moved the camera as necessary. Needless to say, we made a huge mess in that warehouse. So, when shooting was just about done, we started to throw all the junk we had accumulated away. Cleanup was the most fun part about the entire class. I was commissioned to break down some set pieces so they would fit in the back of the pickup truck better. I was allowed to destroy couches, cabinets and numerous other pieces of furniture by kicking it. it was bliss.

We took multiple trips to a large dumpster within the industrial complex that we were filming in. The trips meant that three people sat in the cab of the pickup truck while Sam and myself sat in the bed of the truck amongst the garbage. I want to emphasize that with all previous trips to the dumpster never required us to drive on a main road. I'm no thug life I don't ride in the back of pickups on main roads. So imagine my shock when, instead of turning left, we turn right, directly on to a main road and directly in front of two Sheriff cars.

My immediate reaction to seeing two squad cars with a total of four officers within was completely idiotic. In an attempt to avert the justice of the law, I had decided to duck in the bottom of the bed of the pick up. A bed that was piled about three feet high with junk. What was supposed to be a stealthy maneuver turned into me smashing myself against pieces of broken chairs and book shelves unable to hide anything, especially my guilt.

As we were pulled over into the middle of a parking lot of a gas station, I understand from the others in the cab that the driver, Stacy, had decided to fill up on gas. I was, irritated at the situation, to say the least. The officers took Stacy across the street (as she was the driver) and lined the rest of us up on a curb. They questioned everyone, one at a time. When they got to me the officer asked what I was trying to do when I attempted to duck into the bed of the truck. Knowing from TV that police officers can spot a lie a mile away, I gave him the most truthful answer I could. "I was being an idiot, officer" I said with an embarrassed grin.

We were told that Stacy did not have her driver's license on her, despite the fact that she was driving. This sounded bad. We were asked to show our driver's licenses, I immediately complied. The funny thing was, I was the only one out of a group of five people that complied, because I was the only one that had the foresight to have brought it with me. Not that it did me any good, because the officer asked if I could drive stick since someone needed to move the offending vehicle to an actual parking spot. Legally, I was the only one allowed to drive it. I offered my services to push the vehicle if he would be kind enough to steer. Instead of take me up on my offer he asked permission to drive it himself. I allowed him.

As Stacy was separated from the rest of us, we wondered what was happening. All the officers had joined our little group and were talking to us, when we noticed something funny. Namely that Stacy had completely collapsed, very nearly hitting her head on the curb in the process. The officers ran to revive her, which they did easily. She had fainted from the ordeal.

Amazingly, we were let off with a warning. All of us. I don't know if they found the situation amusing, if they felt bad for us or what. We had to call a friend that actually could drive stick shift to come and drive the car (I had to drive his back to the warehouse since I WAS THE ONLY ONE LICENSED TO DO SO.) Stacy was distraught. In tears she profusely apologized to all of us, especially me. In her reasoning the police now had my name on a list, since I was the only one that could be identified.

Everyone came out alive, certainly a little flustered, but alive. The music video was completed in all it's artistic glory. Stacy was had minimal harm done after her fainting spell. The end result of the whole ordeal left us in exactly the same situation we would have been in if we hadn't broken the law. Well, almost exactly. My name is almost certainly on a list of people to watch out for. Thug life.