Five dollar...five dollar footlongs

The title has nothing to do with the post, but dang that new Subway song is in my head like a mug.

Well here's the moving banner dealie for my show that's coming up. Well, I'm in it. Don't want to give myself more credit than I deserve. I did write the commercial for it, tho. I'll put that up when it's available on the internets. I enjoy the picture with the puppets where I'm screaming.

-Speaking of which, I guess I should mention that I got an acting award dealie for a show called Indulgences I did a little while ago (remind me to tell you the story of Tony Shaloub coming to see that show, in glorious Embellishment-vision).

Here's the funny thing about awards: as a performer, you make a deal with yourself that reviews and awards mean nothing. Can't have one without the other and one can't be important without the other being important, so you nuke them both and render them both useless. They're just some jerk's opinion.

OK, so what do these words mean to you? "He sounded like he was reading off the script while on stage. Flat and monotone." Nothing? How about "Clunky and unnatural"? Or "Lackluster for a guy who usually has a lot of energy"? Well these have all been written about your's truly. And they rattle around in my brain along with a few other possibly true hurtful phrases. So, if I'm going to carry those around, I guess I can accept the award gracefully and shut up. Yeah award.

-Saw Tom Waits this weekend. It was phenominal. Possibly the best show I've ever seen. It was much more theatrical than the other time I've seen him and exactly what I wanted. Some great images in that show.

I used to have a picture of Mr. Waits running down the street with a bass drum like he stole it sitting at my cubical. When I switched jobs, I put it up in my office at home and haven't brought it back. It was supposed to inspire me, show me that there's really good art in the world and life doesn't end in a cube. But then it started feeling bitterly ironic. Like having a picture of your favorite cow at your desk at a meat packing plant. So now I don't cross my chocolate and my peanut butter. The office is for the office and inspiring art is for some place far, far from cubical walls.