Rhiannon is coughing. I reach into my inner jacket pocket, grab a tube of cough drops, and hand it to her without looking.
“Take one of these,” I say, as suavely as I can manage.
“Why do I need a towel?” she asks.
I look down. I’ve actually handed her a tube of compressed travel towels.
“Shit,” I say helpfully, as I dig around for the tube of Hall’s I bought at Gas & Go.
I’d forgotten that I had those towels.
Add comment November 19th, 2009
me: Somehow we did a scene that crossed ‘Song of the South’ with ‘The Flintstones’. Think Barney and Fred picking cotton in blackface. We got there after exploring a scene where they make Flintstones chewable black tar heroin.
Dan: Oh, awkward. Leno did that same bit Monday night.
me: Oh, yeah. I remember. That was right after the bit where he asks people on the street questions about the sky’s color.
Dan: yeah, he usually opens with the edgy stuff
Add comment November 11th, 2009
I have a new feed on twitter: @too_thinky
This feed mirrors my away messages, and stray thoughts throughout the day. The goal of the project is to babble all day long, while still producing interesting posts, all in under 140 characters. Think of it as part improv calisthenics, part pandering to @mgrdcm
Why is this a new feed, instead of the old one? Because there’s a chance that it will become a TL/DR fest, and nobody needs that dumped in their lap without warning. For more well thought out, slower updates, feel free to follow @imlerdr
Add comment November 9th, 2009
Life is really all about the good moments you remember. The NOLA improv festival was last weekend, and it had a lot of good moments.
During a workshop, John and I did this scene about having to kill all the rabbits in a pet store because the pet store was closing. Instead of killing the rabbits, John ‘accidentally’ killed my character, and let all the rabbits go, to the cheers of an audience made entirely of improvisers.
Jay Suko called me Gary all weekend, because we were doing a bit, and neither one of us wanted to break character.
We hung out with Clint and Buck from TwinProv, which was awesome. They’re awesome freestyle rappers. Also, because they’re twins, they can finish each other’s puns, rhymes, ect.
The troupe told ghost stories to each other during a late-night thunderstorm until we ran out of stories. Then, we started telling each other the plots of 1980’s movies and tv shows as though they were ghost stories.
“So my uncle gives me this furry pet for Christmas, and there’s all weird these rules for taking care of it… like three of them.”
“No! That is a lie. That is the movie Gremlins. You were NOT IN THAT.”
“Okay. Well, there was this one time that I was working in a New York skyscraper…”
“You were not in Gremlins Two EITHER!”
Add comment October 20th, 2009
Cell phones allow us to do all sorts of unwise things, like continuing a conversation with someone while you’re sitting down to relieve yourself. Bad form, so people try and hide it. They mute the phone when flushing, and when running water, hoping that the person on the other end won’t figure it out. Icky, but not really a problem.
So, what do you do when somone else is on the phone, in a public restroom? Are you allowed to make your normal bathroom noises, or is that considered rude? Are you forced to help them maintain the illusion?
Should you warn them before flushing?
This bothers me.
(edit: Need to proofread)
1 comment October 13th, 2009
Saturday is getting really, really busy.
There are three things I want to get done Saturday between 5:00 and 11:00: there’s a Rosh Hashanah dinner, a Jonathan Coulton concert, as well as the public debut of the ride a light-cycle project I’ve been working on (at the Atomic Cowboy. Should be fun!). I don’t see how it’s all going to fit together, time wise.
Still, having too much choice beats the alternative, right?
Add comment September 17th, 2009
Borlaug Fantasies: The belief that, if properly motivated, each and every human has the potential to become the kind of scientist that keeps hundreds of millions of people from starving to death due to resource scarcity.
Add comment September 14th, 2009
I’m having a particularly graceless week. I feel stressed, overextended, my allergies are kicking in, and I’m not sleeping well. My sleep is restless and shallow.
The practical upshot of this is that I’m having lots of vivid, semi-lucid dreams that I remember when I wake up.
For example: I’m dreaming about a sniper team lying in wait for a high value target. I’m not a member of the team; I’m an observer. Specifically, I’m the cameraman for the COPS: Marine Sniper show, who is giving away their position by meandering around with a shoulder mounted camera, attempting to interview people who are doing their best to look like bushes. “Is it normal for them to run away from your position like that?”
Another example: I’m stuck in a musical, and I’m the only one who is aware of the fact that everyone around me periodically launches into song. Everyone else enters into a trance state while they sing, and they pop back out of song with no awareness of the fact that they launched into choreography. During the song, I seem to be the only one left with critical faculties. This wouldn’t be so bad, except they sing about the stupidest shit. “I want” songs about washing your hands after using an airport restroom[0]. So, my role in the dream is to attempt to stop the songs by physically disabling the lead singers before the choreography kicks in.
On the one hand, I’m worried that I’m going insane. On the other hand, maybe being insane is fun.
[0]: Man starts to sing in front of sink, in airport restroom. Music swells, stall doors open in unison, people shuffle out with pants around ankles, and toilet paper streamers in their hands. Dance routine involves a lot of shuffling, due to lowered pants.
Add comment September 10th, 2009
Ack. Thirteen days until I’m 30.
I’m not handling this gracefully; the number is scary. It symbolizes old age, decline, etc. Should I throw a party, or celebrate by writing a will?
In my discomfort, I’ve retreated into Batman fantasies. Oh, Batman. Your arms are so… strong. But why must you brood?
“Batman Fantasies” is how I refer to the pervasive male meme that states: if properly motivated, each and every man could train really hard and become an amazing badass. It’s not too late; you can do it too! You just need something to motivate you, like the death of everyone you ever loved.
Last time I started thinking along these lines, I started rock climbing. However, that didn’t turn me into a badass.
This time, I’m a bit lazier, and I’m just playing through “Batman: Arkham Asylum”. Which is a great game, and kind of cathartic. The characters are good, the plot is good, the gameplay is good, and it doesn’t slave itself to any particular movie or comic continuity, giving it the freedom to be its own beast. Plus, I get to sit on the couch in the dark while playing. Every five minutes I find myself growling, “I’m Batman.”
Rhiannon likes watching it, which adds an extra layer of complexity to the experience, as I’m not allowed to unlock any plot points when she’s not around. Yes, my escapist fantasies about being a complete badass are slaved to my fiancée’s free time. I sure am hardcore.
5 comments September 2nd, 2009
Last week, all my free time was consumed by improv/theatre side projects. This week, I’ve got nearly nothing after work. It gives me time to reflect on the real reason I spend my free time doing this hobby: going to philosophically sound after-show parties.
To illustrate what I’m talking about, let us discuss the topic of dancing atop bars.
When dancing atop a bar, many ladies draw from the a school of thought I refer to as ‘Faux-Stripper’. A wildly individualistic school, Faux-Stripper focuses on hair flips, slinking, and moves that call attention to various body parts. Philosophically, the school is depressing. It can be thought of as a meat-sales technique for use in a zero-sum environment. Devotees of the school who find themselves simultaneously bar-dancing are, by definition, in cutthroat competition with each other for attention. The ‘winner’ is the one who garnered the most attention for later use as social capital. Sure, some people may be more skilled in the school than others, much as some used car salesmen may be more skilled than others. It doesn’t make the ‘thought’ behind the ‘craft’ any more dignified.
The female cast members of an Improv Troupe, on the other hand, veer towards collaborative improvised choreography when dancing on the same bar. The focus shifts from individual self-sales to cooperation. The goal of the cooperation? To make something interesting happen. In this context, ‘interesting’ means just about anything the Improv devotees wish, up to and including a Kaufmann-esque inversion of expectations (which I would call nega-sexuality). This has the advantage of being infinitely more amusing, and being philosophically sound.
I say philosophically sound because improv bar dancing finds itself free to break away from an inherently sexist architecture, as the goal is self defined, and not necessarily getting people to notice that you have any given body part. It also breaks from the zero-sum mentality adopted by the FS school, and proves that collaboration, specialization, and a plurality of actors provide a superior experience.
Now, at this point it may seem to you that I’ve just conflated some aspects of modern economic thought with different approaches to dancing atop a bar. To this I say: damn right I did. To me, one of the background insights that underpins ‘The Wealth of Nations’ and other modern (vs medieval) economic thought is that life is not a zero sum game, except on very small scales. Seing anyone challenging the notion that any given game is zero sum makes me HAPPY, even when the challenge is taking place on top of a bar in Hermann, MO at 12:30 AM.
Add comment August 31st, 2009