Whew, things are nuts. With work being busy and rehearsing almost every night and writing on the nights we’re not rehearsing (and on some of the nights we are), I’m pooped. And I’m developing weird ailments. I think I’m getting the elbow version of carpal tunnel. I sit at a computer with my arms slightly bent for most of the day and part of the night. Nerd’s disease. And now the skin on my left forearm is sore to the touch. It’s not red or anything, but it hurts when I touch it. Huh? I think I need to find ways to increase the circulation in my arms. Maybe weight training? Or beating people up? Picking a banjo? Picking my nose?
The show is coming along. Or not. Depends upon when you ask me. Right now I think it’s just fine. We’re running the entire thing for the first time tonight. Until now, we’ve been doing one piece at a time. It’ll be interesting to see how the various parts fit together to create the larger whole. Larger hole.
I will be presenting my first “serious” piece in In a Jar…at the Smithsonian. I could argue that even my comedy is serious on some level, but this thing is serious on pretty much every level. And it scares me. When the audience is laughing, I know they’re with me. Paying attention. Enjoying themselves. The laughter is addictive. With something that isn’t funny, you can’t always be sure if the silence is an engaged audience or if it’s crickets. But I’ve got to get out of my comfortable niche. Growing pains.