Lowlands

Matt called me on Thursday leaving me about 15 minutes to grab my stuff and meet them at the train station to go to Lowlands, a huge Dutch music festival located somewhere in Holland. Boom performs at Lowlands every year, and while I am not performing, I get a backstage pass for the first day, so I can help with the show.

Lowlands is a festival that takes place over several days, so camping is involved. That meant grabbing a few different t-shirts, some underwear, and a yellow blanket to sleep on. I have no comping equipment, and am sleeping in Matt's tent for the next few days. I just moved to Amsterdam, and I am absolutely unprepared for camping.

Suzi, who ended up finding a sweet spot for all of us to camp on, had plenty of camping equipment and would laugh constantly at my wanna-be-sleeping bag-blanket. It was neither thick, nor long and left my feet totally exposed to anything that might crawl through the tent. Meanwhile, Suzi and Justine were making coffee, and cooking bacon with their camping equipment.


If only there was, like a sound proof booth where I could make a phone call... oh wait!

The Festival was a blast. I got to eat with the cast in the artist's tent even though I was not performing and had my first encounter with karnemelk. The Dutch like to think this dairy product is like a Buttermilk counterpart, but that is not true. It is, in fact, rotten milk. I figured this out after pouring myself a big cup of it, thinking karnemelk was the Dutch word for "milk."

Tarik watched me drink my first sip of this cold, curdled liquid, and after my face broke into utter disgust said "Yeah, that stuff is disgusting."

"Why did you let me have some of it?" I asked. Tarik was right behind me in line.

"I thought maybe you liked it."

"No, I thought it was milk."

"Oh. It isn't."

The festival was great. I got to see Polyphonic Spree and Franz Ferdinand from backstage the first day.


We also got to see and meet, briefly, The Magic Numbers. Rob is a big fan, so Amber got them to take a picture for his benefit.

It's hard to see, but the papers say "Hi Rob".

The next day I saw the Pixies, Arcade Fire, Royksopp, and others, but not from backstage. My pass was done, but I still had a press pass, which meant going into the Press tent in between bands to drink with hang out on comfy couches with Ash, one of Boom technicians. Arcade Fire almost stole the festival by having the most energized set I'd seen, not to mention one of the members climbed up the scaffolding during their set closer and still banged on his drum, 20 feet or so above the stage. Once he got back down, the group swarmed him and ran offstage, elated and frightened.

Still, the winner for me was the Pixies, who were charming and wonderful, and whom I have loved since I was 15 so they win by pure sentiment.

A Day on a boat

Today was an all-Boom boat trip, meaning all employees. Sail is coming up this week, which is a Dutch celebration of, well, boats, I guess. I guess there's a big showing of old boats and people come out to look at them, hence, Sail.

The boat we were on was pretty massive, and in typical Dutch fashion, we were introduced to the crew while being asked to help. "They have a lot to do, yah? So you will help them out, yah?" So a few of us ended up helping hoisting sails, and putting the sails back, folding and tucking it into it's cover. Most stayed downstairs, drinking, smoking and playing cards.

In between my work as a sudden crew member, and watching the ship move from lock to lock, heading from Amsterdam's canal system to the open waters, I slept out on the deck. I was still feeling jet-lagged from my trip, and the physical labor wasn't helping. I pulled my jacket up to my nose, laid my head against a rolled-up sail, and napped in the salty air. I felt totally at peace, relaxing on the boat and thinking that it wouldn't be too long before I got back to my new studio home in the Jordaan and sleep off my jet-lag.

"Hey," I asked someone walking by my nap space, "When do we get back to Amsterdam?"

"Not until tonight. I think this trip is like 10 hours long or something."

"Got it." I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

From one end to the other.

Finally got back from a great vacation with my family in Hawaii. It took two days to fly back, and when I got back to Party Central, I found out that we had to move that day. Laurel moved into Jim's old room, and Paddy and I helped move in a new bed for her and move out Jim's crusty old one.

I've moved, temporarily, into Heather's old studio until Suzi takes off. Here's what it looks like:


It's weird going from a beautiful place with my family around me, to this new place with no family, my girlfriend far from here, and living by myself, which I've never done. It feels weird to go from such extremes, and I think, for the first time, the boldness of how I have changed my life, has caught up with me.



It took me all day to bike back and forth from place to place, so, after a pizza dinner from Domino's (the only delivery joint in the city), I fell asleep around 7:00.

Jim's Last Late Nite

jimkiss
Originally uploaded by talfulano

Jim is leaving Boom, and has enjoyed being one of Boom's top performers for a while.

Jim is not into being in a scene where he is gay. He will do anything to get out of it. In fact, in one scene in the Bite the Bullet show where he's breaking the fourth wall, he goes so far as to say, "I am NOT gay; I love the ladies," when he doesn't need to.

So for the final game of Late Nite, with the scene going in that direction, and the audience clearly rooting for it. I grabbed Jim, made sure he couldn't squirm out of it, and kissed him to end the show. By the looks of the photo, the rest of the cast is REALLY enjoying it.

Gay.

My First News Joke

In the Best of Boom show here at Boom we have a news segment in Act Two. We have been encouraged (because it's kind of our job) to write jokes for it so I decided to jump in right away and give it a shot. The thing I'm not used to is editing. I've heard some brumblings over what happens to your joke once it's submitted, but I wasn't worried.

Some sketches had some re-writes and edits done to the Good Time Hour by our director Jim, and writing with Sean in Old Man McGinty, he would take a pen to certain lines here and there, so I'm cool with it, but it's new.

So here's the joke:

"Controversy over the latest draft of the Iraqi Consitution has critics pointing out that if the constitution follows Islamic law, women's rights would be severely limited. Said a spokesman for the Iraqi government: "We wanted to follow the American constitution to the letter. Therefore, the Kurdish minority will not have voting rights for 100 years, and women will not have them for 140, and we will give gays the right to keep paying taxes."

It's okay. I kind of feel like it's too long, but since I wrote it amongst all the rehearsals we were doing, I figured it might get tightened. Pep gave me some notes and then essentially re-wrote the punchline, just like people warned me would happen.

Here's Pep's version:

"Controversy over the latest draft of the Iraqi Constitution has critics pointing out that if the constitution follows Islamic law, women's rights would be worse than in Saddam’s day.

Said a spokesman for the Iraqi government: "We are following the American constitution to the letter. Therefore, Women won’t have the right to vote for 150 years, Kurds are worth 3/5 of a person, and homosexuals who marry will be stoned to death."

It's not quite my joke anymore, but it is in the show tonight.

No more Bjork.

8/02/05 - goodbye heather
Originally uploaded by talfulano

Heather's leaving Boom and heading back home. I feel fortunate to have performed with her, for the past few weeks as she is a great performer and we get along really well.

Tonight we had a clip party, everyone chose a small segment of a movie or TV show, and play it in honor of the departing Heather. I don't know Heather that well, so, knowing her love of Anime, I played the scene in Street Fighter where Chiba bashes a guy's head and it switches to an x-ray of the guy's head.

Best of luck in America, I think that scene said.

Pic from a Late Nite

I have no idea what's going on here, but one thing's for sure: it's a bit.

Segway Tour of Amsterdam with Mao

Yes, we took a Segway Tour of Amsterdam. All thanks go to Andrew for setting this up. The tour was set up by Mao, an American ex-pat who was very nervous indeed to have us use the segways. Particularly Lauren and Laurel. He was real worried about them, so he had another guy follow behind all of us "just in case". Not the greatest pick for security since this bearded stoner guy, originally from San Diego and whose name escapes me, was about 5'5" and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet. Whatever trouble we might get in, I don't think San Diego hippie guy was going to do it.

Riding those things was the one of the most joyfully gay things you can do. Not one person could avoid looking at us and laughing at our helmets, the segways, and everything else involved.

Canal Ride

It's Laurel's B-day, so we were treated to a canal ride. Laurel looks hilariously tired in this photo. Our director Jon, had us sing Dutch songs as we rode around Amsterdam, trying to get others involved. Rachel made a strawberry cakey thing. The canals were beautiful.

I'm still pretty jet-lagged. Rather than spend another night in Jim's Casa de Filth, Matt invited the two of us to stay with him and his girlfriend CeCe. They live in a little studio on the top floor. The view looked like this:


I still couldn't sleep. Tonight, we're staying somewhere else and living off the kindness of the cast. Definitely a big college vibe here.

Day One in Amsterdam

Dunbar dropped me off at the airport with Erica and I said my goodbyes. I know that Erica will only be apart for 3 months, but it's hard top say goodbye to her. Dunbar's been so great in helping me move too, and I will miss him a lot. After they drive off, I am left with my mountain of bags to bring to Europe.

The flight is long, and I find that I am very anxious. It's been 10 years since I backpacked through Europe and I can barely remember what Amsterdam looks like. I watch shows on my laptop and read about Amsterdam and I can't sleep so I don't. Once I get off the plane I find Jon (or Pep as he is known to Boom folk), Lauren, and Amber waiting for me. I've overpacked and have so many bags that I am totally embarassed as we go to an aiport cafe and wait for Laurel's delayed flight.

I drink coffee and await to hear about the big news on my apartment. Everyone in Chicago kept asking me where I was going to be living, and I had no idea, so Jon explained to me that he was thinking that I would live in this certain apartment that had a cat. I mentioned my allergy to cats, so that changed that. Apparently, this also left Laurel without a place too, so once she arrived we dropped off all our bags at Boom in the actor's office, known as "the Shiny". They would end up living under the computer table for the next week.

After the bags were stowed, I was sent over to Dan and Lauren's place. Dan and Lauren are the other two new actors, from Los Angeles, but they arrived a few days ago and already are moved into an apartment together. Dan allows me to try to nap on his bed, but besides the awkwardness of sleeping on a stranger's new futon bed, the room is also very small, more like a large closet, and there is only room for the futon, a fan, and a shelf near the ceiling. I rest more than nap and the four of us meet Pep for dinner and we watch the first show and then get ready for our first big show.

The cast of my first Late Nite:


Greg tries to show me how to put on my microphone. I try to work the mic belt, but can't figure out its logic with my brain pounding from adrenalin and lack of sleep. His method is to palce the mic into the belt and tuck it under your belt, which I find odd, but try it anyway.

The show is a blur, but my first scene with Lauren gets a big laugh, and I feel like I might be okay here. Then we head to our "room" for the night-Jim's filthy bed.

Jim's bed is legend, and people are already telling me tales of Jim getting drunk one night and pissing on the mattress rather than getting up for the bathroom. "Don't worry, he turned the mattress over," someone tells me. Jim and Suzi are in Frankfurt with Tim and Tarik, so we are sent there with Justine, Suzi's girlfriend and her friends visiting from Australia.

This is tough to write about without sounding catty, but trust that I'm just trying to be honest when I say that Jim's room is filthy. There's a deep funk in the room, certainly from the dirty clothes and sheets, and who knows what else. A naked girl is drawn on the wall, her vagina drawn carefully in the foreground with her saying "Fuck me, I'm Dutch and unemotional." The grey stain on the wall by the end of the bed is what I imagine to be dirt coming off the grey pillow cases, but turns out to be a collection of what Jim grabbed from nose during his night's slumer. A giant, booger cloud. The bed reeks of, well, Jim. I ask Justine for some different pillows, move down the bed so my head is not near the booger cloud, and fall asleep. If it weren't 5am and I hadn't been up for over a day, I don't know if I could have slept on that bed. I've had my own filthy days, but no one ever had to sleep in it but me. I wake up around 1:00 the next day, my first day in Amsterdam behind me.



Getting ready to sleep in the filthiest bed ever.


The "new kids" post-show.

30 Days Left

So, after all my worrying, I am heading to Amsterdam. I really thought it was not going to happen. Now, everything has that feeling of "the last time."

I'm grateful. Very much so. Finally, I will get to spend a year working and making a living doing what I want to do, plus I get to do it in another country. I'm realistic enough to know that this isn't going to be perfect; it'll be a job with the up's and down's of any job, but I hope to keep a clear head about the fact that it's taken years for me to be a paid actor. Three years of Patrick's theatre company and four years at Charna's Chuckle House has brought me, finally, to being a paid actor. It feels good.

I'd better not forget it.

A Friend Has Passed...

Brian sent me word that the Coronet Theater in San Francisco is closing. They're putting up a housing center for seniors, and as much as I think that's awesome for the old folks, having lived in that city for seven long years, I know there are plenty of other real estate opportunities for such a facility. The problem was, the theater was the largest single screen in the States, seating 1,300 and not enough people showed. It was losing money, so they sold it. Good work, City of San Francisco. Your preservation efforts went out the window of a live/work loft. Thanks for the memories, Coronet. It was great to see Star Wars there, Exorcist, and many others. You will be missed.

Fuck you , Hallmark.

Last Christmas, I watched a CBS Hallmark movie about a pair of red shoes a little girl wanted to give her dying mother. I appreciate the sentiment, but this was the biggest waste of time. We could have spent that time talking or even sleeping. The most current Hallmark attraction, however, is worthy of your time and attention.



I have a special relationship with Hallmark films or Afterschool Specials of this type. My Mom would always make my brother and I watch a TV movie if it was about teen suicide or drug use or running away or safe sex. She's say, "Boys, there is a program that I feel is important for you to watch tonight." This was the way we were exposed the deeper issues, by enduring an hour long special presentation.

Once, we watched one that was about a teen couple that had a baby while they were still in high school. At the end, my Mom said, "You see, boys, it's very important to practice safe sex." It was one of the few times we had a "sex chat." Usually, we avoided the topic altogether. When we did finally talk about it, it was in public.

I had graduated high school and was preparing for my first semester in college, so my Mom took me to CostCo to buy some supplies. After loading up the cart with Goldfish crackers and Top Ramen, my Mom decided to enter into our first frank and adult conversation about sex. "Do you want to get some condoms?" she asked, "They sell them here."

I went immediately red. "N-no," I stammered, "I'll take care of that."

"I just want you to be safe. It's important. We might as well get them while we're here."

It was tempting. I'd be supplied for a good while, a wholesale tub of rubbers. But then, I realized my Mom was attempting the best safe sex of all. By buying me condoms, I'd think about her every time I went for one, completely ruining any sexual urge I'd previously had. I declined and got Kool-Aid instead.

I just saw the cover of the new TimeOut Chicago with Defiant Thomas Brothers. I'm so happy for those dudes, whom I don't really know except I did a shitty sketch show at Second City with Seth when I first moved to town, but I can't help feeling that if we had only kept our shit together, it would have been Good Time Hour doing just as well. That is a great regret for me.

Not too sure about this Amsterdam thing anymore. The longer it takes for me to get "the call", the less confident I am about it. I spent February and March living in a dreamworld, wherein I would be living in Europe, performing improv and sketch to Dutch people and tourists. I tried not to let too many people know about it, but word gets around and most people ask me, "When are you going to Boom?", and I have to be all, "Ah, I don't know yet." It'll suck to have to tell people I'm not going at all.

But I will be moving. That much I'm sure of. I think I am done here in Chicago. Time to go. I'm trying to think of what would keep me here, and besides continuing to do what I've done for the past couple years, I'm a little stumped. So, off I go. Europe or LA, here I come.

I took two "snow days" this week, and spent one of them playing XBOX until my eyes crossed. What a life. I have no patience for my job anymore. The dangling carrot that is Amsterdam has me already giving up on work (I need a new job anyway), and I basically come in to check email and hunt through the Internet.

We miss you, Shaq.

FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH

Last weekend Erica and I headed up to Minneapolis, visiting my brother and taking in all that Minnesota has to offer. First stop was the Mall of America, or MOA, as it is called.


I'm totally MOA right now.

My brother tells me that the South section is the most dangerous, which blows my mind to think that there is a dangerous section. Not in the danger zone was an Orange Julius, which I used to love growing up. They had one at the UTC, but then it closed and I didn't have one again until college, when they had one at the Serramonte Mall. I had to have one. I decided on an original, and oh heavenly delight, it was as delicious as my childhood remembered. They are samplings of fucking nirvana. Yeah, I said it. I looked for a recipe on the Internet, and here's a recipe some dude has even copyrighted:

Recipe Created By: Robbie
Prep. Time: 0:15Serves: 2
6 oz. can frozen concentrated orange juice
1 cup milk - low-fat okay
1 cup water
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract
8 ice cubes

-Pour all ingredients, except ice cubes, in a blender.
-Blend, adding ice cubes one at a time, until smooth.

Nice secret blending technique, Robbie. Glad you got the copyright on it. Now, no one steal this, or Robbie will sue. By the way, there's a ton of Orange Julius recipes on the Internet, so I'm not the only one with misguided priorities.

Slurp!

To follow, we went here:


and went tubing. There were fathers and their little kids, teenagers, and us, four twenty and thrity year-olds crashing their lines. First couple runs were a little tentative, but pretty soon I was racing from the tow line to the fir

The only thing that comes with age is responsibility. I think I may be avoiding that as much as possible in my life. I was thinking about this last night as I played Splinter Cell on my XBOX until 3am. I work a crappy day job I can't stand that barely affords me a living, I am more disorganized than I have ever been, I sleep less, and my evening hours are usally spent either rehearsing or performing improvisation. That doesn't sound like what I thought 30 would be like.

Most of my friends are either married or engaged, going to grad shcool, buying a home, or having children. I'm not worried about keeping up, rather a little amazed at the path my life has taken. When I was a teenager, I really never had set goals for myself by certain ages. That might have been a mistake, I don't know. I'm reflecting because I may be moving to Amsterdam to work in a theater there doing sketch and improv. I will be 31 in October, and this feels, this move to another country, like only keeping me from truly growing up. I have no idea why I feel this way. On the other hand, I'm totally thrilled.

Today on the El, a guy was reading Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. It made me smile. I own a record of the same book, but it's more of a long commercial for why someone should own the book. Looks like someone does.

When I say I own the record, I am lying. I "borrowed" it before my roommate Brian moved to Japan. I was using it a lot to mix into songs at the time, so I took it. I'm sorry, Brian. I have your record.

This got me thinking. I know people have some of my stuff, and I know I have some of other people's stuff. Here's a quick list off the top of my head:

-some Judge Dredd comic I borrowed from Torin (since 1989).

-the book SNL- First Ten Years I borrowed from Andy in my sophmore year (1990). Thanks Andy, I've read it quite a few times!

-I borrowed Conderacy of Dunces from Ali (1991), and she borrowed some Beautiful South cassettes. I hope she's still listening to them. I only got through half of John Kennedy O'Toole's little tome. Is it OK that I didn't get into it? Everyone I know loves that book.

-I feel really bad about this one, because Keith really wanted this book back. It's an anthology of One-Act Plays (2000). Sorry, Keith.

-Torin gave me a bunch of stuff to borrow; never learning that I suck at giving stuff back. His VHS copy of Armour of God (borrowed in 1993) is in a box in my parents attic.

-a Casio keyboard from Aimee. (probably around 1988 or so). It probably needs batteries.

I'm also pretty bad at remembering what I let people borrow. On Halloween, last year, my friend Chris gave me 3 Cd's I forgot I had lent him. Thanks, Chris.

p.s.
It gets so dark in Chicago, and so early. Yesterday my co-worker gasped at the sunlight, just peeking around the corner of the buildings off Michigan Ave. Most days, it is so dark I can barely see the world outside, only me and my desk staring right back at me. I can safely say I hate walking into the cold darkness after a day at my horrible office job.