I Think There Might Have Been Shame

Hello, my fine blogees. Have you missed the blog? More importantly, have you missed this week's Hucklebug podcast? Because the reason it was a repeat was because of me.

Stennie is so kind. If I have something planned outside of podcastland, she just goes with it. She's the maven editor, you know. Really, anytime you listen to the Hucklebug, it's all due to the talents of Stennie.

What she went with this past week was that I had a social opportunity, and I wanted to take it, and apparently, she was OK with it too. She put up a repeat show, which is still great to listen to, of course, and I hope to do just that tonight.

Here's the whole reason for the repeat.

Earlier in last week, Mr M came to me with a challenge. "Hey, this Friday, I'm doing Music After Midnight. Before that will be the 'No Shame Theater.' The DeepFatFriar is performing there, then after, I'll play. Hey, why don't you come along and read something of yours too, at No Shame, and we'll make a night of it."

Well, I'd heard of Music After Midnight, because Mr M had played there before, and I'd heard of the No Shame Theater, only because Mr M had told me about it. "People get up and do stuff, and Lord, what they do."

Oh, my God. Could I read something I'd written at the No Shame?

At first I thought "no." Mr M told me I only had three minutes to be onstage. Well, you know me. Diarrhea of the fingers - I have nothing under three minutes.

But I looked around and found a short little thing I wrote that was under two minutes. It was spectacularly silly, but it was under two minutes. I chose that to read, if in fact I could actually read something I wrote in front of some people.

As we were heading to the theater in R'noke, I found that I actually had five minutes. For that was one of the three rules of the No Shame Theater.

1. You only have five minutes to do your thing.

2. Anything you do must be original. If you sing a song, it must be your song. If you tell jokes, they must be your jokes.

3. You cannot break anything. Including the law.

I signed up for my meager reading, and started getting hinky. And we got there very early, so I had lots of time to get hinky.

I think it was a blessing that I came third in the whole evening's readings. I'll tell you why after.

Anyway, the third person along, they called my name. And I ambled out to read what I'd written. The sound is a little suspect, so if you want to read along, you can go here. (If you want to follow along, http://betland.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html and head for the blog of Dec 3d, 2003.)

Yeah, being third on the bill helped me. Because if I knew all the others (7 of 11 people on the bill) would be people from the theater dept of a local college, I'd have never gotten the gumption to go onstage. (They were all polished and ready to appear onstage. Unlike yours truly.)

But all in all, I did it, and I'm glad I did it.

But - would I do it again?

In fact when asked that very night, I didn't know how to respond. Sure, I did it once, so I should be able to do it again. Then again, I know how I felt, aware my knees were crumbling as I read, and I don't think I could deal with that feeling ever again.

But again, I'm working on stuff I've written I can pare down to five minutes to slay them with. Oh, Lord.

So I read my little thing. I got a couple of tee-hees from the crowd.

But also, though. The whole time I was onstage reading my little silly thing, with my knees falling out from underneath me.... I mean, I truly honestly thought my knees would collapse and I would have to be carried from the place to the local hospital. It was bizarre.

And all the theater people took the stage with their bits. Some good, some not. Eighth on the bill was the DFF with his poems. Five short and unrelated poems. He was fantastic. My favorite of his?

The Scouting Choice

Bigotry or cookies.

Yeah, think about it. Again, brilliant.

Anyway, the No Shame ended and the Music After Midnight began, where Mr M played his piece in strange circumstances. (His accompanist, the lovely and talented Cara, was behind a screen where he couldn't see her.)

It finally ended late into the night (after 1:30), and we all headed back to B'burg. But it was fun, a good night where me, the DFF, and Mr M all put ourselves on the line.



Betland's Olympic Update:
* My two favorite jokes went completely unlaughed at...
1. The ruler's residence would be the Parker House. (crowd way too young)
2. Children everywhere treasure the book Rebecca of Pepperidge Farm. (no idea, it's a winner to me.)