They Pull Me Back In

It's been a hectic few days. The plan had been that I was producing the show. Nothing else, just being a producer on this one. I've designed most of the shows Halcyon has done, but with the little ones, the plan was that I'd be home during tech week, while Jenn ran the show. That was the plan . . .

Plans often change. Thankfully Jenn's Mom is staying with us right now, because I found out about five days before tech that our lighting designer had to back out because his day job was sending him out of town twice this week. I found out about an hour after cue-to-cue was to start that our sound designer wasn't gonna be there either. . .

What do you do? If you're like me, there is a long expletive-filled (hopefully inner) monologue. Then call the mother-in-law to see if she could watch the kids at night this week. Then there is a long expletive-filled (hopefully inner) monologue, followed by some sleeve rolling. Having been a working designer for years pays off sometimes. Like when decorating your apartment. Or if you're producing a show that has two designers drop at the last minute.

Conceptualizing and implementing a design in real time is quite a challenge, let me tell you. I think the lights and sound turned out pretty well considering I had five days to prep for one and negative prep-time for the other. (We've got $10 industry tix to every performance, excluding closing week, so come on by and let me know what you think)

Sometimes unusual situations force, or inspire, creativity. Sometimes they are just a whole heap of stress. Sometimes both. I'll probably have a better idea which happened in a week or so, what with having Monday off and a new president on Tuesday.

We preview tonight and open tomorrow. It'll be nice to just be a producer again. Unless I jinxed myself there.

I promised Tony Jr. I'd take him to the space this weekend so he can see the lights. It's not that unusual for a two-year old to have a temper tantrum now and then. Tony had one this week. Jenn's mom brought him by the space. Whe threw a fit when it was time to go. "Dadda, ights . . "

The next day as I was putting my coat on to go to the space, he put his shoes on (along with his t-shirt and diaper he was wearing, ) and walked to the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. 'Daddy has to go to the theatre to work."

Cue tears, "No, ights. Dadda! Ights! Ights! Dadda No Go ights! Ights! IGHTS!!!"

He wasn't mad I was gone at tech all week, or that Jenn was too. He was irate he couldn't see the lights. Hopefully he likes them too.