back that ass up


This just in: FLEET WEEK, the musical penned by Sean, Mac and Jordana, won Best Musical in the New York Fringe Festival 2005. Over 1600 people went to see it, even in the hastily-set-up show on Saturday, 1500 of which do not even know any of us. That, my friends, is an incredible feat, especially given that they wrote FW as an act of revenge, since their equally awesome show “Lucretia Jones” was snubbed last year. We were so excited that we dropped shit on the floor in Venice, CA, three-thousand miles away.

Which begs the question to a select few out there: why the hell didn’t you go? Since I’m not really involved, I can be the asshole, much like the party-giver who realizes – after a great throwdown – that several of his best friends hadn’t bothered to attend.

Here’s the thing about experiences: if you don’t have them, you don’t have them. That play went up six times, and that will probably be it; the specificity of the event will never be replicated. You can TiVo a show, you can re-read a book, but there are some things – like live theater – that exist entirely within the construct of Buddhist ephemera.

I’m calling all of you out, and I’m calling myself out too. Once you have a kid, your energy level for any exertion outside shoveling food into your own mouth dwindles to a trickle. You have to FORCE yourself to stay with the flow of culture and the exchange of ideas, and you must always err on the side of adventure. Yeah, yeah, I know, “easy for me to say” and all that crap, but that’s just the river in Egypt makin’ you squawk.

Dearest friends, I am thousands of miles away from you right now. Eventually I’m going have another big party, or perhaps someone else will bother. If you don’t come, you will be, in the words of one commenter describing me during one of my C-list celebrity sermons, a giant, quivering, pink, pearly pussy.

I’ve ranted to you before about this and I am far from perfect, but your life is not a goddamn dress rehearsal. When you get ass cancer or when half your body doesn’t move anymore, or you’re stuck at Fuckwood Springs Elderly Shitbox Centre barfing away the last of your existence, you’re going to bloody well wished you saw FLEET WEEK.

0 thoughts on “back that ass up

  1. Rich

    I’m already at Fuckwood Springs Elderly Shitbox Centre barfing away the last of my existence, or at least I’m rehearsing a show at a dinner theatre in Westchester, NY. The two scenarios are too similar. Congratulations to Sean, Mac and Jordanna. I had several friends who wrote, directed and appeared in many shows this year and I didn’t see one of them. I had heard great things about both Fleet Week and Silence, which my friend had directed. If it weren’t for racking up health insurance weeks, I wouldn’t be rehearsing that old chestnut of a musical “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.” Lord help me. I’d much rather be seeing new shows, not to mention how much I’d rather be in one. I hope there’s a big future for Fleet Week!

  2. Joanna

    OK, I just woke up, turned on my computer for my morning routine of email, blog and Reuters Oddly Enough check and think I must be feeling like one of your Utah relatives who just can’t handle the expletives. Feeling somewhat assaulted, I’m going to go turn on PBS Kids for a fresh start. I think Clifford is on.

  3. Annie

    Oy vey! Already awash with regret at missing the play, I read this morning’s blog wiht a heavy heart. Having forfeited Lindsay’s offer of being The Coolest Person Ever in favor of work, here’s what happened to me on my for-many-reasons regrettable trip east: arriving without a printer, I rushed to Kinkos to print out some documents that needed to be signed by the people I was to interview (none of whom I found) and discovered that the left side of my laptop keyboard was mysteriously nonfunctional. Making an executive decision, I started back towards Durham and the Apple Store to figure out the problem. Within ten minutes of being back in I-40, someone’s trailer hitch (the whole thing, including arm and ball) flew off ahead of me and spun like a dervish straight towards me, lodging beneath my car. After about 3 seconds of terrible grinding, the thing shot out the back and rolled onto the shoulder. “Everything’s fine!” I thought exuberantly until about 30 seconds later, when all the car’s emergency lights flashed on and the car simply stopped working.
    Luckily I was able to pull over and secure some AAA help, plus get a ride back from friends coming back from the beach. The car may or may not be salvageable, but (again luckily) I’ve been trying to find a diesel model to run on biodiesel so I might be able to do a trade-in if the car’s unfixable.
    The question that I know on everyone’s mind is: was this a punishment straight from the gods? I didn’t want to miss Fleet Week, and I’ve already been flogging myself for this morally questionable decision, but do I just need more punishment?
    Ian, goddamnit, I am going to think twice before making these sorts of choices from now on. And the rest of you should, too. The gods are waiting, armed with trailer hitches and malfunctioning keyboards. Beware…

  4. Dan K.

    I saw FLEET WEEK, but even if I hadn’t, it’s possible that when the ass cancer comes I would not be thinking about whether I saw the show or not. I will be thinking about how I should’ve had sex with more people in high school.
    Congratulations to the FLEET WEEKers!

  5. nb

    you are an ass for suggesting that just because we didn’t see your brother’s show, we are letting life pass us by. Self-absorbed much? My god brother, get some perspective!

  6. Nicola

    Great posting to read after just dropping off my daughter at her first day of child care away from home so that I can re-emerge in life as something other than a mother. So it’s just one day a week, but let me tell you that your posting was a great reminder that even though I now have a child (and the cutest 6 month old you’ve very seen–not that I am proud or anything), my life is still what I make of it and using the fact that I am tired from having a kid is only an excuse to miss out on experiences and opportunities that could greatly impact my life (not to mention my families). Off to work I go…as I spend the next few child-less hours focusing on the many great ideas and opportunities that have appeared before me over the past few months. Thanks for the powerful reminder…

  7. GT

    Today’s post was timely for me — I have been grappling with the possibility of a recurrence of pre-cancer (was cervical initially, but now that my cervix is gone, I guess it would be in my vagina if it comes back). I am only 38 (’89 UNC grad) and have a wonderful, sweet 3 year-old boy and a kind husband. I am desparately trying to repriortize my life and figure out how to really LIVE right now, today. How to do the things that matter.
    Luckily, my biopsy came back clean (for now). Finding adventure and new experiences are of utmost importance!

  8. Beth

    Man, it’s already been a hard week. Laurie from Manley Dorm, where are you? In her absence, I feel compelled to ask for Lucy photos, please…?

  9. Sean Williams

    By the way, SILENCE! won their own excellence award, and those guys were really really awesome to us. Our drummer and I spent most of the awards ceremony trying to find the Silence people so we could thank them for all their help.
    It’s weird, a lot of people had us set up against each other, but I think we both figured we were different to the point of not even really competing. So, congrats to them as well!


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