As I write this post and look through recently past ones, I realize I was rocking a personal theme of visiting all my happy places in the past few months. I was unawares, but there it is, in all its bloggy glory. Stressors of all kinds had me pulling out all the stops to try and refill my introvert well (to no avail, at the time). Looking back, though, I’m so proud of Past Me for trying (all those years of reading, studying, venting to professionals, learning all the zen tips one can — apparently pay off).
But let’s not revisit the reasons for the running for respite (all hail alliteration!) that led me to the location for this post. Let’s just focus on the goodness of it, the joy of it, and the gloriousness of doors.
I hadn’t planned on going to the theater, one of my all-time favorite happy places. The idea of disappearing into a fiction happening in real time before my eyes, though, seemed just the salve I needed. Spontaneity on a September Wednesday evening! The fact that the show, Greater Tuna, was a comedy would help, too, I was sure.
‘Tis a take on life in a faux tiny Texas town. The 20 parts are played by 2 actors, and nothing thrills me more than watching talented people make you forget that they’re playing a multitude of characters. The show is old (late-ish 20th century!), but updated for current times in spots. The audience, however, was either too old (’twas a Wednesday night after all) or too fond of the people of this era who beg to be made fun of on a daily basis. I say this because the laughs you heard the most were about four people scattered to my left and in front of me, my own cackle, and the sound tech behind me (and she had seen the show, like, 20 times already!). The unlaughing people didn’t know what they were missing — it wasn’t the best show I’ve ever seen, but it was highly enjoyable.
One pic below shows a door to the lobby, garnished by a black curtain with unclear purposes. I get the curtain if there was no actual door (and it’s a door that closes completely and tightly), but both find me contemplating why. The pic with the chairs is a rushed photo of the main door on the set, taken by yours truly on the way out. I didn’t want to linger too long, ergo becoming the weirdo taking a photo of the stage, hence the lack of proper composition. The final pic is a tree outside the theater lighting up the night sky (which was self-lit when I went in) and acting as a visual representation of how my insides felt after sitting and laughing with strangers (even if just the five who were actually laughing) for almost two hours.
Did you know if you click on each pic, you can see it bigger? Thank you for your patience as I’ve obviously recently (re)discovered tiled mosaic layouts.
A two-man show meant any stage crew-ing was done by the actors. The set would go dark and music would play whilst they moved chairs, boxes, tables, and the like. My favorite musical interlude was the song below, and yes, I participated in the clap clap clap clap along with the five laughers and the actors on stage as they worked, my clapping arms high overhead by the end of this catchy tune.