Thursday, December 6, 2007

Where Life Is Older Than The Trees

"Yet out they go in silence where
They whilom held their learned prate;
Ah! he who would achieve the fair,
Or sow the embryo of the great,
Must hoard--to wait the ripening hour--
In the least point the loftiest power.

With wanton boughs and pranksome hues,
Aloft in air aspires the stem;
The glittering leaves inhale the dews,
But fruits are not concealed in them.
From the small kernel's undiscerned repose
The oak that lords it o'er the forest grows."

-Friedrich von Schiller



Charleston is a quiet town, nestled snugly in a valley with mountains on all sides. A river runs through it, as they say, and the whole shape of the city is a lazy 'S', hugging the river as it meanders through the passes. The lifestyle in West Virginia's capitol seems to plunk along at about the same pace as the river current. That is to say that although the joint is not precisely jumping, it has a cozy feeling, isolated from the hustle and bustle of most larger cities.

To illustrate this point, we were to be performing in the municipal theater, a space located next door to the civic center, where the WWE Wrestling 'Smack Down' was playing the night before. We had spent most of Sunday at the Charleston Mall (for want of anything else to do or see) and were amazed that every clerk, sales associate, and passerby was buzzing about the Smack Down. While getting my haircut, the stylist asked what I did for a living and when I told her I was an actor performing in Charleston the next day, she immediately asked if I had anything to do with wrestling. I figured my prominent lack of muscles and tattoos would have clued her in, but I merely replied that no, I was not with the wrestlers, just wrestling with some 19th century literature. Sadly my joke was lost on her.

The next morning, we put our own theatrical smack down for a couple thousand kids. The performance went well, and Brent's parents were in attendance, after driving him back down from Michigan where he had spent Thanksgiving. We met them afterwards, a lovely couple, and could see from Mr. Bradley's bald head that the apple did not fall far from the tree. It seems Brent's Q-ball predilection might have been inherited.

We then headed on to Roanoke, VA, getting in late because of the long drive through the mountains. It was another gorgeous drive, this time with low-hanging clouds drifting through the trees and sometimes even across the road.



Roanoke was another picturesque town huddled in a valley 'tween the hills. The Comfort Inn had stately wallpaper and an aristocratic southern feel. But though the ambiance was nice, the breakfast bar left much to be desired that morning. As Martin aptly observed, the line between quaint and sparse is a very thin one.

After another performance it was on to the capitol, Richmond. We arrived at our Comfort Inn, and were disheartened to discover that the whole place was not only under renovations, but reeked of cigarette smoke. Even the rooms, which were supposedly non-smoking, were quite odorsome.

Meg had heard there was a free YMCA nearby we could go to, so she Brent and I piled in the van to escape the hotel and see what we could see. Our first impressions of Richmond were quite dreadful, seeing as how the area around the hotel could be called 'developing' at best. The simple fact was none of us felt safe venturing out on our own, so it was better to go in a group. In the van.

Surprisingly enough, as we headed towards the city center, just a few blocks away, it turned completely around. There were statue-lined boulevards and a lovely university setting. And the YMCA we ended up at was far and away the nicest Y I had ever seen or heard of. We almost didn't get in because the hotel clerk had told us wrong, there were no free passes. But we stood around looking pathetic long enough that the good-natured woman behind the counter waved us through, and we were greeted by the sights and sounds of a first-class workout facility. There were innumerable machines, multiple weight rooms, a pool, basketball & racketball courts, everything one could imagine. And it was all centered around a marble atrium with a fountain and wrought-iron chairs. In a YMCA! We all worked out in the beautiful surroundings, and headed back home in excellent spirits.



Wednesday morning, we cruised over to Richmond's Landmark Theater, certainly one of the highlights of the tour so far. The building itself was magnificent, fashioned in the early 20's after an Islamic Mosque, and the house was an elegant three-tiered neo-baroque style. The stage was sumptuous, the largest proscenium stage on the east coast, and the dressings rooms were absolutely kingly! The men shared a 'dressing room' that was thirty yards long, fifteen wide and twenty feet tall. Thick red carpet and classic furnishings, ornate window treatments and oriental rugs all served to create the most sumptuous surroundings we had seen. I almost felt bad about changing clothes down to my skivvies in there.

An even bigger surprise however, was the size of the audience. I have mentioned already that there were three levels of seating, but I was not anticipating that they would all be full! There were over three thousand people in the audience that day, the largest crowd any of us had ever played for. Before the show I did not really give it much consideration, since our audiences had been in the thousands for the duration of the run. It was not until I was actually on stage and facing this gigantic mass of people, wrapping around the stage on three sides, every level teeming with eager young faces, that I appreciated how incredible it really was. I got the jitters, and took a beat to compose myself before continuing on. After the nerves had been steadied, we settled in and the show rocked along. The energy that an actor receives from that many people is astronomic, and we rode the rush strongly for two hours, giving as much as we got. It was a spectacular performance.

That afternoon we zipped along to Norfolk, Virginia, where we were playing the next day. We also stopped along the way to appreciate the incredible views in the mountainous Virginia countryside. Splendiferous!



Much to our delight, Norfolk turned out to be a gorgeous medium-sized city on the ocean. Even more delightful were our lovely accommodations at the Tazewell Hotel, in the middle of the downtown arts district. We entered the lobby and were greeted by the sight of an airy reception area open to the second floor, with striking furniture (including a double-facing chez lounge, curvy-backed barstools in bold primary colors, and an elegant red, white and silver decorated Christmas tree, 12 ft. high!), and the whole place chased with mahagony, marble and brass fittings. The rooms were similarly outfitted, and it was all a welcome change from the smoke-stack Comfort Inn the night before.



We all had a lovely time in Norfolk, strolling the streets, perusing the mall (which was the most architecturally interesting shopping center I had EVER seen) and plundering the local market bistro. After the show that day we took our leave of Norfolk, reluctantly, and headed to Frederick, Maryland. Frederick turned out to be another lovely town, with the theater set in the center of the downtown area, situated around a canal. There were lots of local restaurants and shops, and the theater itself, called the Weinberg, was very distinctive. It was another remnant of the theater boom in the 20's, and had retained its character over the years. Shaped like a long shoebox, the lobby and dressings rooms still retained the character of the theater's art deco heritage.

That night, our week's performances behind us, we drove on to stay the night in Allentown, PA, which was the rough halfway point for our eventual destination of Connecticut. Most of us stayed in for a quiet night, after a long week of travel and work. I however decided to venture forth to find something to eat. I grabbed the van and headed off towards what looked like a restaurant row, just a few blocks from the hotel where we were staying. Well one thing led to another, and I ended up driving a few miles out of the way before finally locating a Chinese restaurant. I ordered to go, and waited the fifteen minutes for it to be prepared, before heading back to the hotel. At this point I thought I knew where I was going, since I hadn't been gone more than thirty minutes, and only took two left turns. But somehow, after taking two right turns, I realized I was not where I needed to be. I had been traveling for a good four miles or so, twice as far as I had originally come, and was getting worried, when I finally saw the Comfort Inn sign ahead. Relieved, I pulled in to the parking lot, but did not recognize the building. I then realized I had found the wrong Comfort Inn. Dismayed, I headed inside, and asked the clerk for directions to the other Comfort Inn in Allentown. At this point she told me that I was no longer in Allentown, and needed to head back on the highway. Highway? I did not recall being on a highway. But she seemed to know what she was talking about so I followed her directions, and got on the interstate. Three exits, two cloverleafs, and a half dozen miles later, I pulled in to the Comfort Suites in Allentown; which I was sure was also the wrong hotel. At this point I was getting angry, because my quick dinner trip had become an hour and a half-long endeavor. I called Nate to ask for the address of the hotel, which he didn't have. He suggested I look on the hotel key. I decided to go inside and ask for directions again. I approached the receptionist and told her of my plight, and that I was still looking for a different Comfort Inn in Allentown. She asked if I knew the address, and I remembered my hotel key. I pulled it out, and to my surprise, the name emblazoned on the key card was Howard Johnson. Aaaarrgghh! I laughed and told her my mistake (Comfort Inn was where I had stayed the night before, in Maryland). She laughed with me and said the Howard Johnson was just three doors down. Five minutes later I rolled into the parking lot, and later came to find out I had made a giant circle. It seems the tour was finally catching up with me . . .

The cold weather was also catching up to us, and we felt the chill as we loaded the van in the morning. But we warmed ourselves with a visit to Dunkin' Donuts, another sign that we were back in the north. We headed for Connecticut, sipping coffee and chatting amiably of the weekend to come.

Rocking Along,

ICHABOD

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