All Good Things . . .

"Out through the fields and the woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended."

-Robert Frost





The final week of our tour had arrived. Its end was heralded by snow, in copious amounts. We arrived in Springfield, MA that Saturday evening, and the place already had a significant accumulation. It snowed constantly throughout the night and the entire next day. So much so that the city was half-shut down and escaping the hotel was out of the question. There was however a movie theater across the highway which we made good use of.

With all of the snow, and the storm forecast for Sunday night, we were all in high hopes of a cancellation on Monday. Myself especially since I was still recovering my voice, and an extra day of vocal rest would have been just the thing.

Alas, 'twas not to be. Sure enough, the storm was not as heavy as predicted (meteorology by Miss Cleo evidently), and those New Englanders know a thing or two about how to deal with it. This left us with a very cold, very snowy load in and performance Monday morning. It was a little tricky too because the theater didn't have a loading dock, so we had to unload the truck outside in the elements, wheel everything in through the orchestra pit and raise it up on the hydraulic lift on the apron of the stage. An atypical load in, but not too difficult. The hall itself was impressive, and very very big. All part of a distinguished downtown arts and civic complex. Exactly the kind of thing one would expect in a regal old New England town.

The show was fine, though my own performance was spotty at best. It was becoming more and more clear that my voice was not going to make it through the rest of the week. I'm sure the kids were wondering why Ichabod's voice sounded different in each scene, as I varied wildly in pitch and volume all morning. But I made it through and before long we were on the road to New Bedford, MA, where we were spending the next two days.

We drove through Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and back into Massachusetts, to the very tip of the state, through heavy traffic and wintry conditions. The area around the hotel was nice and had a lot of restaurants. We were able to eat heartily without venturing too far out into the cold.

The next morning found us at the Zeiterion Theater in downtown New Bedford. It was a great house, and they were used to running our shows. We got loaded in and prepped for the performance, and I was stressing about my voice (or lack of one). It hadn't gotten any better over the last day or so, and I did my best to get through the show anyway. This however, was the last time for me to do the full performance, as I could barely get the lines out. Croaky would be a generous estimation of my vocal quality, something more along the lines of barely audible rasping would be more accurate. I noticed during Sleepy Hollow that the audience, normally laughing and cheering Ichabod on by this point, looked terrified and confused about why I was even on stage. Ichabod had gone from endearing goofy fop to creepy old man with speech problems, and it certainly was not working in the context of the show.

I finished the show that day and had a sit down with Erin about what we should do, since it was obvious to everyone this could not go on much longer. She had talked to the office and they decided I should continue playing Ichabod to finish the week, but that Nate (who was understudying the male roles) would go on for me in the second act for the rest of the week. I would also be on vocal rest (no talking outside of the show), until further notice.

This was a great relief for me, and terrifying for the rest of the cast, since Nate had had zero rehearsal time thus far for any of the three roles he would now be playing. Also scary for Nate (obviously) who had thought he would make it through the whole tour without having to jump in. Since we didn't have to load out that day, as we were playing the same venue on the morrow, we had a quick understudy rehearsal for Nate, and led him through the blocking. He picked it up rather quickly, and by the end of the rehearsal we all had high hopes for the next day's adventure.

At this point we decided to go relax and see the sights of New Bedford. Though a lot of us did not know it, New Bedford had been the epicenter of the whaling industry in the 19th century. It was home to Herman Melville and Frederick Douglas and many other famous American icons. And there was an amazing whaling museum in the historical district withing walking distance of the theater.

We ate lunch at an amazing little cafe with really great organic sandwiches and soups. I had fun trying to order and communicate via notepad and pen. Some people thought it was cute, some people thought I was deaf, and my fellow cast members couldn't resist asking me lots of questions they knew I couldn't answer, and interpreting my muppet-like gesticulations completely inaccurately. It made for ridiculous hijinks over the last few days of the tour.



The whaling museum was really cool. They had a 60ft humpback whale skeleton hanging in the main entry hall, and a full-sized whaling ship in a back room. There were all kinds of interactive exhibits and lots of great whale facts. We played on the ship and marveled at the intricate scrim-shaw trinkets that many a whaler had carved for his sweetheart. The building was situated right on the harbor and you could look from the second story deck/balcony at the ships coming and going. For most of us it was all so new and different than where we grew up or what we were used to. Only Nate (aka Captain New England), who had worked on a historical longship as a historian and knew the words to every sea shanty was unfazed. He pointed out lots of interesting facts about sea life and whaling vessels, and could answer any question we had.



The next day we geared up for our second performance at the Zeiterion. This was Nate's big day and we were all a little jittery. I played Ichabod again, and it was getting worse with each day. But thankfully it was over quickly and then came the moment of truth: Nate had to start off Act II with a curtain speech and then play three roles, which he had not rehearsed more than twenty minutes. When I came offstage as Ichabod, I helped Nate put on the Factory Man getup (wig, mutton chops, mustache) and went with him back up to the stage . . .

. . . then the lights came up and he was on. And he NAILED it! He rocked right through the intro without missing a beat, and headed backstage. I was watching from the wings, exuberant, as the show continued on as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary. Nate soared effortlessly through The Monkey's Paw (Factory Man), The Necklace (Bernard) and The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County (Smiley), hardly missing a line. The rest of the cast helped him as much as possible with the blocking too, giving him a nudge on the elbow if he needed to step up a level or me whispering for him to enter upstage instead of down, etc. But after an hour the whole thing was over and we had made it through, due to Nate's rockstar understudying and everyone's hard work.



We were all tremendously proud of him, and in excellent spirits as we loaded out and headed up the coast to our final stop on the tour, Concord, New Hampshire. Now this little jaunt, should have been a quick two hours. And after all the traveling we had done thus far, we were just fine with our last travel day being truncated.

Not so! Not so! Sure enough the snow storm that had been looming all week finally broke over our heads. It had been snowing off and on all week, and there was already a healthy covering of snowfall, but this was the real deal. After about thirty minutes on teh road, the storm made for slow going. Add in to that mix rush hour traffic around Boston, and we were going nowhere fast. Our two hour quick trip became a five hour, congested, snowy saga. When we finally reached the Comfort Inn in Concord, we were all beat. The week had taken its toll on all of us, and the episode with inserting Nate into the show had been stressful as well. I was feeling even worse than I had earlier in the week, and was positive I would not be able to perform the next day at all.

The hotel was nice, with spacious rooms and a cozy lobby. It had an indoor pool and hot tub and was the perfect place to relax while waiting out the storm that evening. We were scheduled to be there for two nights, and could not have picked better accommodations for the current situation.

Its funny how sometimes the universe works in your favor. We were all exhausted, and most of us just ready for the tour to be over. With the end in sight, and only two performances left, all any of us wanted was to be done. And although Nate had done a great job that morning in the show, we were not too keen about him having to go on for me as Ichabod as well, as the staging and lines were much more complex. Given our collective mood and phyiscal state, it came as an enormous blessing the next morning, when Erin called us to say that the day's show had been canceled.

Turns out Concord had received over a foot of snowfall that night, on top of the four inches that had already accumulated. This proved to be too much for even the New Englander's to deal with, and so all the area schools were canceling, and most businesses were either delayed or not opening either. It was as if the entire world had taken a day off to hibernate. Thinking back to Sunday night when we had all hoped so earnestly for a snow day, and didn't receive it, made it that much better on Thursday when we really needed it. As the song says, 'if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need.'

On our day off, after celebrating ridiculously for about twenty minutes of whooping and hollering, we mostly took it easy. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at the hotel (not rushed for once), and watched the news, which was interspersed every five minutes or so with campaign ads from one of the presidential candidates. This was our first stop in one of the primary states, and you could feel it immediately.

Then we piled in to the van, to see what we could see of Concord. I had the gang drop me off at a walk-in clinic so I could get some help fighting my cold. Everyone else went to a bookstore and hung out while enjoying the snowy landscapes. A bit later they picked me up, antibiotics in tow, and we all headed to The Common Man, a wonderful New England soul food restaurant that Kate knew of from her last tour. It was located in a renovated victorian house and was completely decked out for the holidays. There were two different levels of wood paneling, Christmas lights, great food and good cheer. We ate heartily, and made the most of the cozy atmosphere.



The day passed lazily, and it was great to have one last bubble of free time together before the whole thing came to a close.
The next day, Friday, was a long one. On top of the regular performance we had to drive back to Boston, and divide the truck/van to different locations to unload the sets, costumes, and electrics. With all that in mind, the final performance had a sort of inevitability about it. I went on as Ichabod one last time. Still had the funny voice, but I managed to get a little more character out of it. Nate went on again for me in the second act and did a marvelous job again. The rest of the performance went as usual, and by the time the curtain came down for the last time, we were all focused on getting the rest of the day's tasks out of the way.

We did a reverse load of the truck in order to facilitate the drop-off schedule. And once we had everything loaded up, we grabbed some lunch and headed to Boston for the final leg of our journey. We hit some really bad traffic coming in to the city, and on top of that had trouble finding the costume shop. The truck (with Kate, Peter, and Martin at the helm) headed to south Boston to return the set and the electrics. By the time we dropped off the costumes, they were unloading the electrics, and we were supposed to meet them on the south side to help unload the set.

Unfortunately, with the traffic and the mapquest (curses!) we got a little misdirected, and ended up lost or held up for the better part of two hours. When we finally got down to the right part of town, those three troopers had already unloaded everything and told us to meet them at the rehearsal space at good 'ole Uphams Corner.

So we rendezvoused in Dorchester one last time, and carried all the tour effects up the four flights of stairs. After taking stock of all the tour trappings, and getting the van in order (had to make Matilda respectable, before we said goodbye to her), we finally headed to the Holiday Inn, where we would spend our last night before traveling out the following morning.

Brent left that night. His girlfriend Liz came and picked him up, to take him back to Harvard Square, and then on to Detroit to see his family the next day. We saw him off, and were glad to finally meet her.



Kate's fiance Evan arrived that night as well. We had met up with him a number of times throughout the tour, and were glad to see him again, as was Kate of course.



The other three companies, who had been touring other parts of the country all converged on the hotel as well. We all ended up hanging out together and swapping tour stories. It was a lot of fun to meet others who had been through a very similar, and yet very different experience over the last few months. But as a result of the long day, most of us were pretty beat, and before long the revels were at an end.

At breakfast the next morning we said goodbye. Martin had already check out and headed home. Kate was the first to leave, driving with Evan back to D.C. Next came Meg, picked up by her mom and driving back to Connecticut. Finally Nate's girlfriend Liz picked the rest of us up, driving Peter and I to the train station, Erin on to catch a plane, and then she and Nate went back to Quincy, MA where the two of them live. Peter and I caught the Chinatown bus to NYC, and parted company on Canal street.

Thus came our fellowship to an end and so is the final chapter of Ichabod and the Barnstormers concluded. After four months, 52 performances and over 16,000 miles the journey was complete. It had been an incredible ride, filled with new places, beautiful landscapes, and unforgettable experiences. Miraculously we had managed to go the entire way without killing one another, and generally got along like 8 peas in a pod. Looking back over the fifteen entries in this blog, its incredible to me how much of the country we saw, and all the incredible memories we shared together.

Touring will teach you a lot about yourself, about your limits, and your personal boundaries. And while I'm not ready to go out on the road anytime soon, I definitely think I would like to tour again someday. Either way, I feel blessed to have shared this experience with such an amazing and talented group of people, and would feel privileged to storm the boards with them again any time.



But for now the Windy City awaits. I've set aside the wig and the false nose, the cravat and the khaki hose, and am going back to what I know. The winds of change are blowing strong in this new year, and I would wish for you all that they send lots of joy, success, love, and a bit of luck your way. With that I leave you, faithful reader, with the promise of more breathtaking performances from our brilliant Barnstormers, on stages from New York, to Chicago, to D.C. and everywhere in between.

Audentes Fortunas Juvat

Be bold. Live well.

Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

-ICHABOD

Pennsylpittsadelphia

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea,
Yet never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me."

-Emily Dickinson





A triumphant return to Philadelphia! It had been over two months since our last encounter here; one that was as delightful as it was surprising. Now we returned to Penn State's cultural capitol, and celebrated our return by going to see Beowulf 3-D (again). Peter had not seen it yet, and it had made such an impression the first time around, the rest of us went for another go. Glorious 3-dimenional action!

The second thing that half of us did was get out of town! Erin, Nate and Meg made use of Philly's geography and headed in to New York City for the next day. No brotherly love from those three, they were on the first train out. I spent the evening with my friend Jessica, and went to see a show she was in that night. The rest of the crew explored the hotel surroundings, and the amazing Indian restaurant next door.

While we were cruising around that afternoon, I received a phone call from a number I didn't recognize. I answered and to my great surprise it was a man named Tony, who runs the Shakesperience! Theatre Company in Waterbury. It turns out he HAD received my little sonnet (see previous entry), only he found it two days after we had left Waterbury. He thanked me for the note, and was sorry to have missed us. After ascertaining that we would not be back in Connecticut, he lamented our missed opportunity, but said that if we made it back his way we should definitely give him a call. At least it wasn't all in vain!

We also decided to explore the King of Prussia Mall, America's largest shopping center. Yes, I know most of you are yelling at your computer screens "No! No you misinformed youth! The Mall of America is the biggest!!!" Well . . . its the biggest single building mall, however King of Prussia dwarfs it with its multiple building complex. So there you go. Its quite an impressive place, and they were even giving out free starbucks coffee, so we were instant fans. That being said the mall is completely overwhelming. But after a few hours and a few breaks to eat and gawk and wonder at the enormity of it all, we had made some purchases, had a meal and gotten the whole experience. Chief among our loot were new jackets for Peter and I, as well as socks and other warm-weather gear. We shall not be caught in the cold unprepared again!!!

Monday we set up shop in the Keswick Theater where we were playing for the next few days. The crew was amazing, really efficient and loads of fun to hang out with. We found out that Wynona Judd had played the theater the night before, and the crew couldn't stop cracking jokes about how mediocre her performance had been, and how much food she had brought with her. The rumor was she had microwaves at every off stage position, including one in her quick-change station. I guess when you're a superstar, you get to have nuked lasagna whenever and wherever you want.

The show went well, and we ended up going out to lunch with the crew. Since we were playing the venue two days in a row and didn't have to load out the set, we turned lunch into a leisurely afternoon, and took it easy for the rest of the day. My friend Jessica had tried to see the performance that morning, but was unfortunately rear-ended on the way to the theater. So it was doubly fortuitous that we were in town for two performances. She saw it the next day, and after another lunch with the super crew, we headed on the road to Harrisburg.

We arrived at the venue the next morning to find it was a theater attached to a Masonic Temple (this would become a theme for the rest of the week). The crew and facilities were very professional, and the highlight was the dressing rooms downstairs. They were huge, and outfitted with old 20's style barbers chairs!! The retro quality was amazing:



And in our enthusiasm over the swanky decorations, we were inspired by the upcoming premiere of Sweeney Todd (opening this weekend! can't wait!) and decided to take some tribute pics in the barber chairs:





Johnny Depp: eat your heart out.

Right . . . so after Harrisburg it was on to Pittsburg. One 'burg' after another . . .but this one was considerably more impressive. Very few of us had every been to Pittsburgh and so didn't know what to expect. We were overwhelmed by the architecture, and the gorgeous buildings everywhere. Carnegie really outdid himself back in the day. In fact, we were playing at the Carnegie Music Hall which was easily one of the most beautiful buildings I've seen in America. It reminded me a lot of the Residenz palace in Munich, with marble pillars, gold everything, and rich ornamentaion.



What we were not impressed with however, were the conditions of our work that morning. First of all, there was a driving downpour and sub-zero temps. Speaking of temps, there was no house crew at the Carnegie Hall (guess they spent too much on the deco) and the temps that Chamber was supposed to have hired for the day all failed to show up. So we were unloading our set in the rain, and also had no direct access to the stage because there were two gigantic grand pianos in the way. It was a rough start to a rough day.

We eventually got things sorted out and loaded in. The hall was packed to the brim, and because the seating was wrap-around, baroque style, there were three thousand kids, many of whom could see all the way backstage. There were also no curtains (its a music hall, not a theater) so our entrances/exits were not masked. Suffice to say, it was a very rough show. On top of this, I had gotten sick, and my throat was really scratchy (another trend that will continue throughout the rest of the tour . . . ) so I barely got the words out, what with the throat closing and the fever and all.

But, we got through it. And Chamber sorted out six crew members by the time the show was over to help with load out. And they bought us lunch for all of our trouble. All in all, not a terrible day, but certainly a trying one. After the show, we all spent our Chamber-lunch-money and stuffed ourselves. Then we took a moment for a photo op (or two) among the crazy statuary and buildings in downtown Pittsburgh.



Finally it was back on the road, this time to Cleveland (???). Yes, I know, it doesn't make sense. We were supposed to be the southern tour, and the Midwest was definitely not our turf. But it was only a two hour drive from Pittsburg, and we drove it. We were all a bit confused though, and as we arrived, sodden, tired and ready for the week to be over, Brent summed up our mood with: "Did we really just drive to Cleveland?"

For all that, it looked pretty much like the last three cities we had stopped in. A lot of hunched gray buildings, an indefinitely shaped body of water, a Comfort Inn. Its hilarious how most of the tour goes by in a blur of hotel keys, van rides, loading docks and dressing rooms.

The next morning we played at another Masonic Temple, but this one was gigantic. The building itself took up an entire city block in both directions. The theater was a giant stadium-type thing that was used for Masonic ceremonies, and was mostly concrete. Because of this, and the relatively small audience (only about 500 in a hall built for thousands) we had an incredible echo that morning, despite Nate's best efforts to equalize. We adjusted as best we could, but still found it hilarious to hear our lines coming out like this:

"Matilda Loisel-el-el-el-el . . . was a great-at-at-at success-s-s-s-s-s-s."

That performance concluded the non-New England portion of our tour. We were headed back to finish up in the north east, and chose the dubious halfway point of Milesburg, PA (yet another burg) where we stayed for the night. Ironically, this was also the chosen halfway point for another traveling theatre troupe, run by Theatre Works out of New York. We caught up with them in the lobby, and eventually met for drinks later that night. We swapped stories and thoroughly enjoyed one another's company.

Saturday morning we started off again towards Springfield Massachusetts, where we would be playing Monday morning. Erin and Nate had cleverly routed our trip through Scranton, PA, where we stopped for lunch. Fans of 'The Office' will already be ululating at the top of their lungs after reading the last sentence, for Scranton is the setting for that most-successful of television shows, which Erin, Nate and Meg have been watching fanatically for the entire duration of the tour. So we stopped and took pictures of everything and saw the sights. Scranton itself is doing a nice job of capitalizing on the attention, with cardboard cut outs of the show's characters and realistic looking signs for the fictional paper company "Dunder-Mifflin" where the show takes place. The 'Welcome to Scranton' sign, which is featured in the show's intro, actually had to be moved to the local mall because so many people were stopping on the side of the road to take pictures it was causing congestion. We took the obligatory pics and ate lunch before moving on.



Upon finally arriving in Springfield, we all holed up for the next two days, to get away from the weather. Winter was in full swing, and doing its best to whiteout New England. This trend continued throughout our last week, to be concluded in the final installment of Ichabod & The Barnstormers . . .

-ICHABOD

Waterbury With A Wintry Mix

"Pray to what earth does this sweet cold belong,
Which asks no duties and no conscience?
The moon goes up by leaps, her cheerful path
In some far summer stratum of the sky,
While stars with their cold shine bedot her way.
The fields gleam mildly back upon the sky,
And far and near upon the leafless shrubs
The snow dust still emits a silver light.
Under the hedge, where drift banks are their screen,
The titmice now pursue their downy dreams."

-Thoreau



Time: Early afternoon.
Destination: Waterbury, Connecticut.
Transportation: Matilda the Merry Chamber Van.
Route: The Tappan Zee Bridge.

We crossed the bridge into New York, and caught a brilliant view of the NYC skyline as we did so. That sea of buildings thrusting up towards the cold blue sky, surrounded by rivers and pallisades, made for a welcome sight. So welcome in fact that Meg, the driver, was intent on turning tha van around and making a run for the City . . . . but thankfully we talked her out of it, and she delayed her New York frenzy for another week.

A few hours later we were coasting in to Waterbury, CT. Its a charming city, situated amongst rolling hills, with lots of beautiful old churches and a lovely downtown plaza. After some misdirection, we found our hotel, the Holiday Inn Express Downtown and settled in for an extended four-day stay. Since we are used to staying in each hotel for one night at a time, or two at the most, four in one place was quite a luxury.

The first thing we noticed upon our arrival at the Holiday Inn, was the dun-colored fifteen-passenger van that could have been Matilda's twin. It was sitting in the parking lot, and emblazoned across both sides was a giant decal reading:

Shakesperience!
Theatre For Young Audiences
Waterbury, CT

What luck! thought I. We had somehow encountered another touring band of actors. We could meet up with them and swap stories from the road, find out what tour was like with another company, and hear of all the crazy adventures they'd had, places they'd been. What an opportunity. In my room upstairs, I then devised a means of communicating with this van. I was worried, because the company was from Waterbury, CT (where we were) which means the van could just be parked there permanently. If I left a note, there was no telling if anyone would see it for days, or even weeks. But I decided why not, take a chance right?

So, in the spirit of the Bard, I penned the following lines and attached them to the van's windshield:

When two itinerant companies meet,
In the course of traveling the country round,
Could there be a more true, or nobler feat?
Stories, new friendships are sure to abound.

If thou wouldst commune, do give us a call,
We'll share a brew or two, good times for all!

-Ichabod & The Barnstormers

And with that I left the rest up to fate, and prepared to head out to Meg's parent's house for dinner. This was an occasion we had all been looking forward to for a few weeks. Her parents live just thirty minutes outside of Waterbury, in an absolutely gorgeous home, tucked away in the woods by a lake. Could it be any more idyllic? I think not.

We all piled in to the van around five-thirty that evening, and made our way out. Meg had requested Thanksgiving dinner for the menu, since we had missed out on the traditional fare the week before. And with visions of turkey legs and stuffing dancing through our hungry actor=minds, we arrived at the aforementioned house, and were treated to an evening of culinary delights and gracious hospitality.



Meg's parents started us off with drinks and a tour of the house, all of which was decorated with a bird motif. One could literally turn in any direction at any time anywhere in the house and find a bird=object somewhere. After we had settled in, we all sat down for a traditional thanksgiving dinner, that surpassed our wildest (and hungriest) dreams. After we had taken in all that we could (and a little more) we retired to the basement to play some ping-pong (remarkably similar to another family evening in Texas . . .) and prepared ourselves for dessert.



One of the evenings highlights by far, was playing with the family dog, Molly. She is a beautiful, friendly golden retriever, who couldn't get enough of us. Or maybe we just couldn't get enough of her. I know they use dogs as therapy for people going through rehab . . . perhaps we could convince Chamber to get us a tour-therapy dog? I'm sure it would make us a much happier company. Or maybe we'll just have to sneak back to Connecticut for some dog-napping . . . Either way, it did us all a lot of good spending time with man's best friend.







Finally, leftovers in tow, we went merrily back home and slept very soundly. Meg stayed the night at her parent's house and was able to sleep in her own bed, a much needed luxury. Sunday we mostly lazed about the hotel or browsed through the Barnes and Noble a few blocks down, recovering for the week to come. We had heard rumors that the show might be canceled Monday, because the first big snow storm of the year was coming through Sunday night. We all crossed our fingers and wished like elementary school kids for a snow day.

To our dismay the next morning, there was no snow on the ground. It was just cold and icy. We were lamenting this over breakfast, when Erin came in to say that the show was canceled! Evidently the ice had been treacherous enough that the school districts delayed opening and subsequently couldn't make the show. Our only task then was to load in the set so that we could play the venue the following day. Half an hour of work for a full day's pay? No problem.

The Palace Theater, where we were playing in Waterbury, was a breathtaking space. Originally built in the 20's it had been newly renovated just four years earlier, restored to its former majesty. A beautiful marble entry way with floor to ceiling gilded mirrors, velvet everything, and a sweeping domed roof with filigree and ornamentation fit for a king. It certainly lived up to its lofty title.



I found out from the theater manager that the Palace had been derelict for over forty years. Evidently the man who owned it was default on his taxes and couldn't afford to keep the place up, so he just let it go. It got really run down, was squatted for a number of years, and by the late 90's, one could stand on the stage, turn a full circle and see daylight in all directions peaking in through holes in the walls and ceiling. Finally the state came in and dumped 34 million to restore and renovate the old theater, which is now also used as a facility for the performing arts high school. From the way it looks today, one would have no idea of the turbulent history it hides.



So we all took it easy again, enjoying the free time by doing a whole lot of nothing. The day went by lazily, and the next morning we played to a capacity crowd in the Palace. It was certainly a pleasure performing in that magnificent house, and afterwards we saddled up and journeyed back south towards New York, Long Island to be more specific, for our next day's show.

Mapquest Misadventure

Ahh, New York. As I was driving us down through the Bronx, I suddenly realized why it is that all my previous visits to this city had been by bus, train, or plane: because driving around in the unfettered madness that is NYC is a quick trip to the crazy house.

It all started with our Mapquest directions. Now granted, Mapquest is a great service, and it gets you where you need to be a solid 70 percent of the time. Its just that 30 percent margin of error that's the problem. Mapquest has a tendency to be very non-specific. For instance, when one is traveling to Long Island, and the directions tell you to take the George Washington bridge. For those of you unfamiliar with the geography of Manhattan, the George Washington bridge is on the west side of the island. Long Island, is on the east. Now, I am no New Yorker, neither is Kate who was navigating. But I have spent enough time in the city to know that the G.W. bridge would take us to New Jersey. As I started raising these concerns, Kate rechecked the Mapquest directions, which said basically:

Take G.W. Bridge exit.
turn left
Continue on to Long Island.

Ummm . . . excuse me? Could you give us a clue?!

With these directions we descended into the maelstrom of highways, and sure enough, ended up in New Jersey. By the time we realized our mistake there was no going back. Long story . . . long, we ended up going down the coast of New Jersey, across Staten Island, got lost for about an hour in Brooklyn, and eventually ended up in the unrelieved suburbanization that is Long Island. We got to the hotel around 8:30 pm, and everybody crashed. On top of this, it turned out we had a 6:30 am call the next morning, because the venue was a 45 minute drive from the hotel. Brilliant.

The one bright spot about the next morning's performance however, was that my sister Diana was coming in from Manhattan to see it! That took some coordination as well, since she had to take about 85 different train connections and a taxi to finally get out to where we were. But she got to see the show and had lunch with us afterwards. It began snowing lightly as we ate lunch, and after we dropped Diana off at the train station and bid her farewell, we headed back on the road to Reading, PA.

Not much to say about Reading. The only interesting bit of trivia for me as a southerner was that its pronounced 'Red-ing' not 'Reed-ing'. So in the future, when playing Monopoly, I can be a snob when saying Reading Railroad, and correct people. What fun!

The next morning it was cold. SO cold. So. Cold. It was the first real wintry morning we had had. And it became clear to many of us that our clothing was not sufficient. This was compounded by the fact that we had to park the van half a mile from the venue and walk to it, not to mention loading in the show from the alley because there was no loading dock. So after freezing our little tushies off on the walk over, we spent another thirty minutes outside unloading the truck and losing feeling in our extremities. The theater was actually quite beautiful, but nobody noticed because it was so cold we couldn't feel feelings!

Anyway . . . the audience was quite small because half the schools canceled on account of the weather. (see! it wasn't just us! It WAS that cold) But they were very energized and seemed to enjoy the performance. That being said, we did have one hilarious flub on stage that morning. It came at the very end of the show, during The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County. Kate is supposed to introduce the Parson as he and his wife walk on stage. She normally says:

"Why, Parson Walker's Wife . . . "

(they enter)

I guess the cold had really gotten to Kate that morning, because for some reason she just couldn't get that sentence out. What she did get out, sounded something like this:

"Why, Puh . . Parker . . . Park . . . Parker . . . P-P-Parker Walker's Wife"

(they entered hesitantly)

She covered it well by reiterating the PARSON on her next line, so the audience knew what was going on. We of course couldn't get enough of it, and after the show choruses of "Parker, Parker, Parker!" followed Kate wherever she went.

Load out went considerably better than load in, due mostly in part to the fact that it was a solid ten degrees warmer by then. All things considered though, we have certainly conquered the process of this touring production. In fact, you could call our operation a well-oiled machine. I remember the first time we had to load the set in on our own, it took us the better part of three hours. Even during the first few weeks of tour, once we had gotten the hang of things, it still took us a solid hour and a half to get everything ready, leaving us just enough time to get into costume and warm up. These days, we're often done loading in and setting up in about forty-five minutes. We zip around the stage, uncoiling cable, bolting things together and setting out the trappings of props and costumes, and before you know it, we're all sitting in the dressing room, drinking coffee, reading the paper and goofing around. Its really incredible to see how efficient the whole process has become.

We must be doing something right, because the company only sent someone out to check on our show last week. During the normal course of a Chamber Theatre tour, they do periodic 'spot checks' of the performances, for quality control. We had been expecting this for months, hearing the reports of other companies who had been checked, and were wondering when our turn was coming up. Since it was December and we only had three more weeks of tour left, we figured we must be doing something right. And much to our delight when our Production Manager surprised us by showing up to our performance in Waterbury, she was pleased with how things went and had very few notes. Oh yeah baby: well-oiled machine!

We finished the week out with a private performance in Dallastown, PA, at a local middle school. We usually dread these days, because it means no crew and strange spaces, etc. But this stop proved to be a real jewel. There was an army of wide-eyed middle schoolers waiting to help us, and the kids were so into it. They loved the show, and we ate lunch with them afterwards in the cafeteria. Now we all had reservations about this course of action, remembering our own middle school cafeterias. I think I ate chili-cheese fritos and little debbie cakes for those three years, and that's not something I'm particularly proud of. But much to our surprise, they had a first-rate dining facility. There were fruits, veggies, salads, turkey wraps, stuffed pizza, vitamin water, granola bars, yogurt, all kinds of crazy vitamin-healthy-green-super foods. I could not believe it. Maybe some progress really is being made to make kids eat healthier. We were certainly pleased.

At the lunch table, the kids oohed and aahed and asked us a bunch of questions. How do you act like that? How do you remember the lines? How tall are you (me)? How old are you? etc.

It was fun, but a little overwhelming. One of the kids confessed he had seen a Broadway show in New York. He went on to say, and I quote: "I mean, Broadway was cool and all, but you guys were WAY better!"

:)

From the mouths of babes! So needless to say, we (and our egos) loved those children. That night we headed in to Philadelphia, where we would remain for the next four days. And the City of Brotherly Love had its arms wide open . . .

-ICHABOD

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

Théâtre en Province

"But it was--as I received it, an excellent play, well
digested in the scenes, set down with as much
modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there
were no sallets in the lines to make the matter
savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might
indict the author of affectation; but called it an
honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very
much more handsome than fine."

-Shakespeare



Can you hear it? The slow groaning as thick green tendrils break slowly through the well-packed earth? Behold! Mother Nature arises triumphant, and a new stalk strains bravely towards the sun's warm embrace. That's right folks, its the sound of grass growing; because that's certainly the most interesting thing taking place in most of the cities we played last week.

It all began in Carthage, Tx, (home of the Texas Country Music Hall of Fame) where we scheduled for a private performance. This means that the city is too small to have warranted a stop, but wealthy enough to buy us out for a day anyway. So they pay a (hefty) flat fee, and we come calling with our big box of theatrical tricks.



The reason we would not normally stop in such places, is because the venue (usually a high school or in this case a junior high auditorium) is not equipped to handle the tech specs of our show. Instead of the high-tech electrical rigging we're accustomed to, we had a half dozen standard outlets. In place of a professional stage crew, we had a gaggle of enthusiastic eighth graders. The production has to be slimmed down in these circumstances, to the bare mininum. So we cut out quite a few lighting instruments, some set pieces and even a few hand-props to make do on the diminutive stage.

Another peculiarity of these private performances is that the show does not go on until early afternoon, instead of our normal 10:30 am. The school provides a lunch for us to compensate for the time adjustment, which at our last private performance in Delaware meant pizza and cokes. We were delighted this time to find a lovely boxed lunch of tuna, fresh greens and a fruit & nut salad from a local tea room. They also supplied each of us with a healthy portion of the bakery's decadent mudslide pie. We were quite happy with this little gem of a repast (except for Nate who doesn't eat tuna or sugar. He wasn't so impressed), and proceeded to perform "this afternoon's thee-ate-er program" as our play was referred to over the loudspeaker, that afternoon.

After the show the school's theatre teacher was ecstatic and very effusive in her thanks and praise. She had written a grant to be able to pay for the performance, and was so happy that her students were able to see professional theatre for the first time. As nice as she was, however, we were all exhausted and concentrating on packing the truck so we could finally get on the road. Towards the end of load out, Peter got his foot caught underneath the platform cart, which left him hobbling and cursing for the rest of the afternoon. When we finally closed the roll-down door, and headed for the open road, it was five o'clock and almost full dark. It was the better part of 10:00 pm before we finally reached Lake Charles, LA.

The next morning we awoke to a world covered in fog. The lake from which the city took its name was very near the hotel, which was near the venue, and so we had a dense fog in all directions, cutting the visibility to about fifty feet. It was eerie and cool, and felt straight out of a Stephen King novel.



We arrived at the venue and were overjoyed to have the help of a professional crew again, especially one that fit so superbly to a southern stereotype. Every member of the crew, to a man, had a scraggly beard and looked like they had just walked out of a mining camp. Any one of them could have doubled for the front men of ZZ Top. One of the bigger, older stagehand's beards was white and yellow and flowed halfway down his chest and out in all directions. They were a congenial lot, laughing and joking the whole time, and we had the place set up in no time. During load out afterwards, the grandfatherly one with his incredible flowing white beard actually got it stuck between two platforms while loading them out. Hilarity ensued, and even he had to laugh at the absurd sight of someone lifting a platform off his beard to set him free. We could almost hear the dueling banjos in the background.



That afternoon we traveled to Lafayette, LA, a short drive, and settled in for the night. Brent and I did laundry while Kate took Peter to the emergency room, because his toe had swollen up from the platform cart the day before, and was turning strange shades of blue. Meg was nauseous (a harbinger of things to come) so she went to bed early, and upon his return we found that Peter hadn't broken his toe, only jammed it severely. We went to sleep that night, wholly unprepared for what awaited us the following morning.

At breakfast Erin informed us that Meg had been sick all night. I was not feeling very well, and neither was Kate, at which point we realized that the dreaded stomach virus we'd been hearing about all through Texas had finally struck our ill--fated band. Nothing is quite so frightening, or demoralizing to a group of traveling actors, than the prospect of performers who can't perform. There were rumors that morning that Kate would have to play some of Meg's roles, since there are no female understudies. We weren't really sure how that was going to work, and were getting quite anxious during load in. Somehow, Meg managed to pull it together and finish the show, though at times on stage we were all worried she was going to scurry off in a flutter for the bucket we had waiting in the wings. When the curtain finally fell we were all tremendously proud of her for making it through, and hopeful that the worst was over.

The afternoon drive to Shreveport was subdued. We arrived that night at the Horseshoe Casino Resort, a magnificent structure with multi-level gaming and all the amenities. Brent went to check out the slot machines, while the rest of us stuck to our rooms: the nicest hotel rooms any of us had ever stayed in.



It figures that we would get the best accommodations on a Wednesday in the middle of a five show week when three quarters of the cast was ill. But each room was equipped with a stately bathroom, with a monstrous tub, a tv angled for bathtime viewing, and thrice the size of a normal hotel WC. It was the perfect refuge for recovery.

I did venture down into the casino to take a look around, and by far the most interesting sight was the "million dollar wall", a seventy-five yard stretch of hallway with 10,000 $100 bills glued to it, displaying one million dollars. It was impressive, and certainly the most inventive casino decoration we had seen yet.

The next morning we played the Strand theater in Shreveport, easily the most beautiful theater I had ever performed in. It was built at the turn of the 20th century, and was replete with balconies, chandeliers, and gorgeous frescoes with vignettes from famous operas. There were golden facades and rich velvet curtains, marble staircases and paintings of famous benefactors. The theater was a gem none of us had even remotely expected while traveling the hinterlands of Louisiana.



The morning got off to a rather rough start however. Because the presence of two other trucks in the alley did not give us access to the loading dock, we had extreme difficulty loading in the set. Miscommunication only compounded this problem, forcing the truck to relocate no less than five or six times. During one of these maneuverings, the truck accidentally gave a little love nudge to a parked pickup truck in the parking lot. The truck's owner seemed to think it was less of a love nudge, and more of a huge dent, and Erin spent the better part of an hour dealing with paperwork and insurance and police.

All of the shenanigans with the truck (we finally just double parked on the street, loaded out the truck and then loaded everything back up another ramp into the theater), we were hard pressed to get the show ready, and were forced to start a bit late. The show came off rather well in spite of all this though, thanks largely in part to the extremely competent crew, and we were back on the road well before two o'clock that afternoon.

We drove back to Texas and arrived in Houston a little after 9:00 pm. The notorious traffic had snarled us on our way in, and we were all exhausted. The next morning, we were again confronted with the nausea, aches and pains that had been dogging us all week. Meg and I both felt lousy, Kate didn't seem much better. We all put on a brave face though, and finished the week's final performance without a bang or a whimper.

That evening, we stopped over in Irving, Tx for the night, on our way to Oklahoma City for the weekend. It had been a tumultuous week, and most everyone called it an early night. I however let myself be kidnapped by some good friends from college, and spent the evening in Denton catching up. The next morning as we all piled in to the van once again, our faces expressed the weary reliefe of those who have weathered the worst of a storm and finally had the end in sight. Most of us were feeling moderately healthy again, and we were all grateful for two days off. Ahead of us we had only two more performances, and then a five day break for Thanksgiving.

Our morning in Oklahoma City passed without incident, and soon we were on the road to Tulsa, our holiday destination, and home for the rest of the week. That night at dinner Nate mentioned that TOOL, one of my favorite bands, was playing in Tulsa that night. We immediately scarfed our food and zipped down to the civic center to see if we could get in. Sure enough, there was a single ticket left, and after haggling with a scalper for another, we got inside just as the band took the stage for an amazing concert. The next morning, Tuesday, we were all psyched about the performance, knowing we were almost home free. We were very energetic, and had a tremendous show. Afterwards we were pumped, and relieved to have some downtime.

The next few days were pretty relaxed. We spent a lot of time at the mall, or at the local Barnes and Noble, happy to have nothing on the agenda. For Thanksgiving day, we went to the Cattleman's Steakhouse at the Hilton hotel (the only restaurant open) and had a lovely meal in their beautiful indoor atrium.



Afterwards we wanted a change of pace, and found an extremely country dive bar, that was actually quite full and made some mean drinks. They also had an entire Thanksgiving buffet setup (for free!) so we ended up eating dinner there, feeding the jukebox and mixing it up with the locals.







Tulsa had treated us very well, and there was lots to give thanks for. Friday we headed back on the road, traveling to Evansville, IN. The next morning we pressed on to Charleston, WV, where we spent a quiet weekend in preparation for our performance on Monday.

The last week has been one of cozy hotels and breathtaking mountain scenery. More of our meanderings emerging very soon!

-ICHABOD

The Stars At Night Are Big And Bright . . .

"Deep within my heart lies a melody,
A song of old San Antone.
Where in dreams I live with a memory,
Beneath the stars, all alone."

-Bob Wills



Wide - Open - Spaces-- spread out before us in an endless, unbroken vista, as we sped down I=20 across the border into the great state of Texas. Immediately after crossing the state line, Brent looked out the window exclaiming: "WOW! Everything really is bigger in Texas!" Though his enthusiasm might have temporarily overshadowed his judgment (there really wasn't anything to see yet), it was a great way to start our adventures in Tejas.

The first thing we noticed was that the roads improved considerably and there was a huge presence of Texas flags flying everywhere. The ever-observant Nate Beckman pointed out that the Texas flag was flying at the same height as the American flag, which was not supposed to be allowed . . . until Erin informed him that Texas had been a sovereign nation for 13 years, and therefore was the only state in the union with the right to fly their colors on par with Old Glory. This was the first of many fun Texas facts to be tossed about over the next week.

Our first stop was Abilene, which proved to be a perfect introduction to classic Texan culture. That night Brent and Meg got dressed to the nines and made a trip out to Guitars and Cadillacs, a true honky-tonk dance hall that Brent had read about somewhere and was dying to experience. It proved to be everything he had hoped for and more. It was a large club, filled with people of all ages, many decked out in wranglers, Cowboy boots and steamed Stetsons. They learned how to line dance, and an enterprising Cowboy put Meg through the paces on the dance floor, twirling and two-stepping her with wild abandon. Brent held his own as well, showing the cowboys a few urban moves whenever an R&B track was played. At two-o'clock it was last call, and the speakers blared Dwight Yoakum's Guitars & Cadillacs, from whence the building took its name. Meg and Brent returned bedazzled by the sights and sounds, convinced it was the coolest and most unique night out on tour so far.

Abilene also began my homecoming, as I had family and friends lined up all over Texas to visit while we were there. My aunt and uncle took Brent and I out to dinner Sunday night, treating us to the very best of Texan delicacies. I had an exquisite 10 oz Rib eye while Brent experienced jalapeño poppers and chicken fried steak for the first time. Delicious!

The next morning we played at the Abilene Civic Center, which had by far the most incredible green room any of us had ever seen. Normally the green room is a small affair, with a fridge and a coffee pot, maybe a couch or two. This one was enormous, and furnished like a cattle baron's living room. It had huge paintings of the Texas prairie, a table made out of a wagon wheel, leather recliners, sofas and a giant oak conference table. Not a bad way to start the day.

That afternoon we were headed to Lubbock, Tx. I was at the wheel, an honor I had claimed months ago back in Boston. In the navigator's seat was Erin Whipkey, who had also grown up in Lubbock (strangely enough). As I guided us down the highway, the familiar sights were also interspersed with some new ones, the most notable of which was the huge amount of wind turbines along the highway outside of Abilene. We had been told that the top portion of a large wind farm (the largest in the world as a matter of fact) had recently been completed, and you could see hundreds of the gigantic turbines atop the hills for miles.

As we approached Post, Tx I pulled off for detour to a little cemetery that I knew about, with an incredibly scenic view. Its perched on a bluff overlooking a limitless prairie landscape, a sight that did not fail to impress my fellow travelers.



That evening we arrived at my parent's house in Lubbock, for an evening of merrymaking. The house was filled with friends and family, as well as a veritable cornucopia of culinary delights. The gang fell to, feasting on my mom's famous pork ribs, beef brisket, and myriad other delicacies while I made the rounds catching up with many people I hadn't seen in ages. The evening culminated with an impromptu ping-pong tournament in the game room, and a stately march of desserts, each more exciting than the last. When, finally the guest had left and my fellow actors headed back to the hotel, snuggled in for a night in my own bed. Mmmmmmmm!

The next morning we played the municipal auditorium. After the performance I came out to see my junior high theater teacher Karen Ray, who had attended with 100 of her students. I talked to them briefly and then to another friend, Liz Wilson, who was now a teacher in Amarillo and had brought four of her students down as well. After load out, we all went out to lunch with my parents as well as Kate's parents who had driven in from Santa Fe to see the show. Bread was broken once again, and finally we took our leave of family and friends, back to the open road.

The day's destination was Wichita Falls, Tx, and the drive was remarkable only in its absence of civilization. The wind-swept grasslands of north-central Texas opened around us as we made our way eastward.

The next morning got started off with a bang (literally) as the truck blew a tire on our way to the venue. Luckily Ryder was extremely expedient in repairing the wheel, and had someone there working on it before we finished loading in. That job was made especially interesting by the presence of a three-story outdoor loading elevator which we had to use to transport the set up to the stage space.

Once we had negotiated the elevator, the performance, and the elevator again, we loaded up and breezed down to Cattle town, USA: Fort Worth, Texas.

That night, after settling in to the hotel and getting ourselves spruced up for an evening out, we met up with Erin's friend Clarissa and checked out downtown Fort Worth. First we had to stuff ourselves in to Clarissa's two-door (so that we could make it downtown into the parking garage. Sadly, Matilda was just too ungainly), which made for an interesting ride:





We enjoyed the sights of the lovely Sundance Square, especially the marvelous alabaster angels that adorn the Bass Performance Hall. The Flying Saucer, and its selection of over 100 beers, awaited us. Meg remarked how wonderful it was to be in a proper city again, with all the amenities, and we all had to agree.

The next morning we played the Will Rogers Theater and then headed back out on the highway, bearing south towards San Antonio. We were all excited about the weekend in SA, especially Meg who's best friend was coming to see her, and also happens to be named Meg (strange?). After performing at Trinity University Friday morning, Meg went off with Meg (confused yet?) for the weekend, and we all prepared to hit the Riverwalk. We arrived downtown where we met up with my cousin Kelcey who's currently in dental school in SA, and proceeded to amuse ourselves among the enchanting environs of the Riverwalk: a stretch of restaurants, bars and shops laid out along the San Antonio river, flourishing with greenery of all kinds and elegantly lighted for nighttime enjoyment. We ate at the County Line restaurant, where we had the most AMAZING barbecue of all time. Tender turkey cutlets, excellent sausage, and killer ribs in awe-inspiring quantity. Brent couldn't restrain himself and went wild on the pork ribs, double fisting and wallowing in the tender juicy goodness.



By the next morning everyone was a big fan of San Antonio, and it was time for a little history and more sites, as we headed to the Alamo. Wandering the grounds of the historic mission, we all learned a little Texas history, while Erin, Nate and I then headed to the IMAX to see The Alamo: The Price of Freedom.



This was a fun little dramatized documentary about the Alamo's history. Afterwards, the gang took in the sights of the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Wax Museum.



It was a beautiful day, and we continued to stroll the downtown area, taking in the Texas scenery and enjoying the weather. That night sitting poolside at the hotel, we fought off the unexpected chill with Margaritas, and talked into the night.

Next morning, Sunday, we loaded up once again and reluctantly prepared to take our leave of San Antonio. Meg bid Meg farewell (Freud anyone?), and we rode out of town, headed for Carthage, Tx, in the eastern hinterlands. The drive ahead was long, and as the road opened up our minds were dancing with the magical weekend we had left behind us. Brent turned to me in the car and said: "Brian, I'm really smitten with your state. I never knew its really like its own little country." I couldn't agree more.

-ICHABOD