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11/22/2002 Entry: "An early morning post"

I forgot to post on West Side Story. We opened Friday night. The kids were awesome! How they turned it around in one day is beyond me. Thursday night, one actress dropped 2 lines in the same scene! Yet Friday, not a single person forgot a line! And the audience was appreciative too. And, they saw the humor in it as well. Some things that I didn't see as particularly funny took on new life. And my playing? Well, it was ok. My solo in "Cool" was pretty stinky. But not anything anyone but me would notice. I was able to handle the extra percussion and tympani parts pretty well. All in all, I thought I did pretty well--considering it was only my 4th time reading through it! That's right--I only had three rehearsals. The other drummer (who's already played the show for another local troupe) got the other two rehearsals.

I make no secret of my love of fire engines. Someday, I will have (note the imperative) an old fire truck to bomb around in. I think I will call it Spruce Head Engine #1, even if I don't live in Spruce Head. Ideally, it will be a late 20s Ahrens Fox. But they're quite expensive. I may have to go for a 40s/50s open cab American LaFrance. Anyway, Ron from Random Abstract sent me this link to a fire truck/trailer. More affordable, and easier to store. Perhaps not as pleasing to the eye as an Ahrens Fox or a Seagrave, but it may do in a pinch!

Also from Ron, this 10 Useful Grammar Hints. This is a PG-13 page. That means there are a few swear words on it, Mom.

I had this crazy dream the other night. I was leader of a Boy Scout troop in Spruce Head. We were standing between my parent's and grandmother's house, facing towards where Gene's pond used to be. We were skeet shooting. A 747 jet flew overhead. Behind it were three parachutes, acting as wind brakes. Behind those were targets at which we were shooting. (Not too safe, to be sure.) The next thing I know, the parachute/brake system ripped. The pilot opened the throttle, and put the nose up, to gain some altitude. He made a counter-clockwise circle, and came around on another pass. This second time, though, he didn't level out. The left wing stayed down. He was heading for the ground. Before I knew it, he had crashed into the old ball field across from the Spruce Head Community Church, right in downtown Spruce Head. We ran to the scene. There was nothing there but black ash. No parts, no fire, no pieces, no nothing. The plane had just disintegrated.

Hmm. I'm flying to Florida in a couple of weeks.

(I put that in there just to freak Susan out.)