“We cannot escape history. We… will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance, or insignificance, can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation.”
-Abraham Lincoln
From his annual message to Congress,
December 1, 1862
This quote is from the greatest man this country has ever seen. Sojourner Truth says of him (located in the FASCINATING book “Lincoln, As I Knew Him”), “I am proud to say, that I never was treated by any one with more kindness and cordiality that was shown me by the great and good man, Abraham Lincoln, by the grace of God President of the United States for four years more. He took my little book, and with the same hand that signed the death warrant of slavery, he wrote as follows: For Aunty Sojourner Truth Oct.29. 1864. A Lincoln.”
Aunty Sojourner also told him earlier that when he took his seat she feared he’d be torn to pieces and likened him to Daniel thrown into the lion’s den.
I think he was and before he was shot, he paid the price everyday. He was torn and tired and still steadfast in his wisdom & kindness while grieving the loss of two sons and a, let’s face it, a crazy very bi-polar wife.
When I was a little kid any picture of him terrified me. Little did I know as an adult I would make him one of my main heroes and have pictures of his care worn face every where. Yeah. I love that dead guy and think about him often. Is it weird that I do actually mourn him? If that is wrong in whatever way- I don’t wanna be right!
I wish I could share that whole book (“Lincoln As I Knew Him”) with you but here, I can only give you example of the literary glimpse of the real man- not the icon. Through friends and family they talk about him and his greatness and yes, his flaws- which I love.
Foreign leaders were always shocked at his bony appearance and commented on his strangely penetrating eyes- which I know is what terrified me from his photos- as they seemed to reach me from beyond the grave and do that thing to my stomach you feel when peering down a hug steep staircase. He was a great fan of Shakespeare (a man after my own heart). And often read aloud excerpts. Macbeth was his favorite. In one instance he recited from memory one that struck him significantly- “Duncan in his grave; After life’s fitful fever, he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst; nor steel , nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him farther.” Those present recollected he said the “Treason has done his worst” more slowly and twice. As if he felt a foreboding of the future? As he had a dream of seeing himself dead the week of his assassination, I think that’s a given. He was also our most psychic president and visits those who resonate with him to this day. Okay, now I know you think I’m crazy. I don’t care- on with my man-crush article. Some people / scholars- tell that he was a depressive. I disagree. You can’t run a country tearing itself apart and imploding while depressed. I merely think my kindred spirit was merely grandly passionate about things. He adored animals and his children meant the world to him. The more one loves, the greater their pain. I swear by that and that is the reason I understand this man that lived over two hundred years ago. I feel like he was the grandfather I don’t remember. The big brother I never had. I love him for spanning the centuries to touch me so….
He just fascinates me- and I learned not too long ago Spielberg is making a film due out in ’09!! I still can’t believe that is happening. I won’t believe it till I’m sitting my nervous shaking butt in the theatre on that date. My hero is making a film about my hero!! Well, that’s just nuts. It’s a perfect storm of my interests, and loves and admiration all in a couple hours moving picture.
This last month I saw that Barack is carrying around a book about him and modeling his choices for his cabinet to reflect the way Abe did it. That warmed my heart. I didn’t vote for Obama, as I’m an independent and out of purpose for my displeasure of the two party system (I think it’s actually one party making everything all the more difficult for this country to move forward) I went for neither- not saying who as that’s as unimportant as much as the independent candidates themselves. Think about it- a black man from Lincoln country- who would have been a slave in Abe’s time- now holds the office of the great emancipator himself. Oh, what is Aunty Sojourner saying now? She and Abe had a gala ol’ time over on the other side the night of the election. Them and Oprah.
I was watching the John Adams miniseries that was originally on HBO- on DVD a couple months ago (I highly suggest it- I learned more about our American history through this film that I did in High School)- and there is this scene on the last part- where he and his wife, Abigail (brilliantly played by Laura Linney) peruse the white house under dusty construction. They were depressed at their surroundings. Abigail muttering sadly under her handkerchief shielding herself from all the dust and chalk, “imagine, the home of the leader of our country built by the colords” – while the slaves were ongoing- working tirelessly and I do say in a very devoting manner. Right on the weekend of the election that one ongoing scene watching them work around these leaders who were getting in their way, literally gave me chills. Now one of them / their descendents is the leader. In the end they were building this big house for one of their own, and Abraham was the one to let this happen or ultimately cause this chain of events to set forth Sojourner’s dream, Frederick Douglass’s dream, Booker T. Washington’s dream, Martin Luther King’s dream, Rosa Park’s dream, now our current president’s reality. Let’s hope that’s not lost on him; thanks to the Great Emancipator with a most melancholy disposition.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
My Own Shakespeare In a Nutshell
Shakespeare In A Nut Shell
A “Shakespeare Meme” from a posting from the fabulous Alexandra Billings website (alexandrabillings.com- her Live Journal section- I highly recommend a look at her website for entertainment, current events, entertainment and more entertainment. It’s more fun than a barrel of cabaret singing monkeys and the Lucille Ball show!). I hope she doesn’t mind but I’m using this as a posting of mine for an article submission- I had to write my own two cents worth on this one because Shakespeare at this point in my life carries and has carried a lot of weight… as I don’t have the patience OR stamina for keeping up a current blog. This is the next best thing for me and my writing fool neurotic self….What was your first introduction to William Shakespeare? Was it love or hate?
“Much like Ms. Billings, it was both. In lil ol’ Arlington High, I cringed at the statement my English teacher made one day at the beginning of the school year. Mr. Overfield proudly stated that we were going to study Hamlet!!! No, not just READ it, yes, he said, “STUDY it”.
“WTF?! I thought… “whoa, whoa, whoa! Dude! I DO NOT DO Shakespeare… that’s for the collegiate elite, not me. Ya know, the smarties. Not me.” Great, I was going to flunk English- a nice healthy side platter of failure right beside Algebra II. GAH.
The first thing he did the first day of our foray into the seemingly inaccessible old world bard was pop in a Betamax video of a BBC production with Patrick Stuart- yes Cpt. Picard as Claudius. Well I was STUNNED. And riveted. While my classmates slept I stared wide eyed and wistful at the large box t.v. my surprise waned and turned to genuine fervent interest in the sets, production, and most of all- acting talent with the fabulously romantic Dane and high drama played by these foreign people who spoke so beautifully. Right then and there my first thoughts before they revisited me in college in little Temple theatre at UNL campus- “I want to do that! Hell, I CAN do that!” While I was in love, I was horrified. This CAN’T BE!” I got over it and continued to be determined to ‘run with it’ anyway. Which Shakespeare plays have you been required to read? Well, that, the afore mentioned- Hamlet. Then, the other one is, I’m afraid to tell you is a long story- or involves a long story… in later years when I had first moved to Chicago- I had transferred from the sports bar, Old Chicago in Lincoln to the sister chain, Rock Bottom on the corner of State & Grand. There were two of my best Chicago friends there, one- was Michael the very OUT gay guy that was instantly taken by me- He set out to make me feel comfortable in that new environment- don’t understand that one but I wasn’t about to complain for someone SO cool connecting with me right away- and The VERY first day I was talking to another instant friend Amy over a fine cold dark beer after a LONG tiring lunch shift in the hot Chicago summer. Amy was a very tall girl who cajoled and laughed along with me in our sci-fi movie and literary quips during the many long double shifts and hash slinging, beer pushing days and nights amid the age worn wood floors. The whole establishment smelled like old Chicago history mixed with a hops scented environment; all within that large two floored humid restaurant. One afternoon at the downstairs bar, Amy asked with interest, “oh, Doug, you mean you ACT?!” I answered in the affirmative very proudly. These moments often made me proud as I remembered back in Overfield’s class when I was a frightened lil teenager not even prepared for the highs and low disappointments of college and terrified of the thought of performing in front of PEOPLE but WANTING to perform still; now I had done it and I had an actual history of doing it! I was ready to take on the acting thing in the big time.
Amy went on to say she was in a new theatre troupe, called the Boxer Rebellion Ensemble. Well, I was THRILLED- She continued, “Well, we’re doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream- it’s done in a 1960’s era style television show and we’re auditioning for some more members…” I almost peed. My stomach did one of those top of the staircase flips. Could I have stumbled on something so wonderful so INSANTLY upon my move from corn country? I wasn’t even completely settled into my little walk in closet of a studio apartment dump right across from Wrigley Field. I haven’t even completely familiarized myself with the Lakeview neighborhood yet!
So I said I would DEFINITELY try out- and my audition, which I don’t even clearly remember except I DO remember Daniel (the director) laughing uproariously at my shtick (it was some kinda gym environment I think)… well- I was ‘IN’ on the spot. I was slightly disappointed playing what amounted to be an extra as all the leads were cast long ago before I even arrived in Chicago- but I was an understudy for Peter Quince and Philostrate- “great”, I thought. “The butler”, fine- I go from George Gibbs in Lincoln NE, to not even being guaranteed to quip a few lines as a Shakespearean servant in a company that has to perform in a basement of a real theatre which we haven’t even seen yet. Well, no matter- I ran with it as I loved my cast-mates and the times we had and also- was promised by Kern, the president of the Rebellion, lead roles in future productions. So you can bet I was determined to be in it for the long haul.
Do you think Shakespeare is important? Do you feel you are a “better” person for having read the bard? I think Miss Alex Billings said it best in her answer- maybe not ‘better’ but rather “more awake”. Fir sure! My artistic life is sure one hell of a lot richer for it. Without Shakespeare, I sure wouldn’t have gone through what I have without him.
For instance, during the rehearsal run of Midsummer, after a long shift at Rock Bottom, I went out with friends and had a wonderful time, living it up in my new city. I was sporting a full 400 hundred dollars AFTER spending money like a rock star with friends at the bar- feeling quite smug and secure in the fact that I had made a full month’s rent from one hard night at work! My friend and I went our separate ways to go home. I made my way to the 7-11 to get an after party non alcoholic beverage and strolling down the walk on a fairly busy street I lamented at the beginning rain- “aw, shit”- I was a good several blocks and an el stop away from my little hole in the wall and turned back right away. Suddenly and little hooded figure (yeah- he was little) stepped out from a cubby- no, not an alley, a cubby with his hood on. All I saw were the whites of his eyes and a glint of metal from the street lights in his hoody covered hands- well, it WAS cold. All I heard was, “gimmee yer wallet man, gimme yer wallet.” In my mind a rush of memories flashed in that insant. One was my mother starting to cry when I told her over a lunch at Old Chicago that I wanted to move to Chicago- my room mate and best friend Ann standing on the steps of our rental house saying, “CHICAGO?! But you can’t move to Chicago- you’ll DIE!” Then desiring to prove them all wrong and that I’d be “juuust fiiiine”. I handed him my wallet not wanting to take a potential bullet and future “I told ya sos!. Any freak who had the guts to come up to some random Joe wouldn’t be afraid to use a gun- I’m from Omaha- please. Then I also ran through all the Nebraska jokes from my new Chicago friends. You know- like, Jeanne, my close friend from Brooklyn (and veteran Shakespearean actress who I KNOW I’ll write more about later) busting my chops at being naïve and ignorant on how I conducted certain affairs… along with my whole ongoing need to prove to my cast mates and co-workers what I could do with my skills. Yes, all that in 1.5 seconds. While little African American Jawa Man rifled through my wallet, yes, taking my 400 dollars, I actually, oh you’ll get a kick out of this, I actually urged and talked him in to giving my wallet back! Yah, it went like this- “C’mon man, take the money nothing else is worth anything to you, I’ll just cancel my credit card and I need my liscence. Just take the money and give me back my wallet.” Well the kind young considerate little Jawa threw my wallet at my feet and rand back to whatever Tattooine dumpster awaited him in the night beyond.
I picked up my little bundle of security and walked on – stunned and yeah- ashamed that I allowed this to happen. I vowed INSTANTLY that NO ONE would know about this.
Then it hit me. All my rent money was gone. All of it.
Walking on in the now totally barren street in the full downpour, not a soul in sight- came my good friend Michael- just bouncing down the sidewalk. I was never more glad to see another human in all my life! He’d just been returning from our workplace on State Street via a cab and was going to the Addison El stop. That’s when it hit me… a familiar friendly face and I clutched him the instant I heard his words, “HEY DOUGIE!!!” His face fell the instant he saw me and grabbed me in response to my despair. I just collapsed as the Doogie levy’s broke- Michael just held me in his arms while I literally wept like a baby. I was now doubly ashamed and embarrassed. Little dumb Nebraska boy had no right to be here and try to make a go at this life! I was ashamed that I felt five years old and wanted his Mommy! I was PISSED that I wanted my Mommy! I was crazy pissed that that little Jawa man TOOK my hard earned cash! I hope he OD’d- on whatever he used it for. Sincerely I did. I don’t anymore though- I actually hope that money did him some good and I’m happy I could help- heheheheh. In this emotional peak, Michael just asked quietly while I was weeping, “where were you going, Doug?” I told him sniffly- “home!”
“oh no, you’re not going anywhere alone right now… you’re coming home with me. C’mon.” I loved him forevermore after that. So of course the next morning he went to work and, well, it a restaurant and nothing gets by your server/kitchen family if something happens to you. I didn’t have choice. I didn’t have to work til after my next rehearsal and I knew what awaited me without saying boo to anyone- and the day I walked into our makeshift rehearsal space above a little food market out in some west neighborhood- upon opening the door upstairs I was met by first Daniel then a hoard of “oooooh Doooooogies-“ and “OH IM SOOO SORRYS” They all put their arms up and out toward me in a gesture of love and empathy- giving comfort to the scared little farm boy from Oatmeal Nebraska who had his first taste of big bad city life. All thanks to dear ol’ Bill Shakespeare. I would LOVE to hollah out to any and all of my old theatre friends from back in the day- the Boxer Rebellion is no longer around- seems their lack of funds only got worse and they officially went under which I only discovered the year I moved back here to Oatmeal, NE. It was soon after Midsummer- that I was given a role as the Mayor in Inherit the Wind but had to leave being still unhappy about their artistic direction and just general planning- as my own personal funds were no longer allowing me to live a life worth living in the big bad city. I was far from being scared away. But my checking account wasn’t. I will return one day. Oh yes. Oh yes I will.
Do you have a favorite Shakespeare play?
By far it has to be Hamlet!!! I adore that guy. I know. One thing I don’t understand and never have is WHY-do people call him insane!??? The guy’s uncle KILLS his father and EW, marries his widowed sister in law??! Whaaaa? WTF indeed. He goes on a well deserved rampage and people deem that insane. ? Well, I think he took it pretty well, if you ask me! All jokes aside, one person that really made me think twice about my gut reaction to the bratty prince is my good great grand friend Jeanne Desmond, whom I spoke earlier of, from Brooklyn. Ah the first hand Brooklyn stories I was given by her! Long late nights with her talking your ear off, while tutoring me on Shakespeare plays and theory in many levels- “busting my chops well deservedly, I might add- are memories I’ll always treasure and put in a little special box in my heart forever. I miss her dearly – so much I get a catch in my throat as I write this.
She always said of Hamlet, that he should have respected his mother- and she deserved a life after the death of the King murdered or not- That Hamlet didn’t once give a thought for her and his narcissistic little mind only thought of himself and sacrificed not only his mother’s love but the love of Ophelia who he drove insane because of it. She waxed on this tirade, (often being very theatrical about it) actually raising her voice as if she KNEW them all!! While she mystified me when she did this (she it often- you learned to never mention Hamlet in her presence- much like the Macbeth legend within a theatre- you never mentioned Hamlet in Jeanne Desmond’s apartment). I was stunned. How could I have been so simplistic all these years! I never thought of that and was ashamed that I never saw it that way… Hamlet has never been the same to me since Jeanne. Now I’m faced with the impossible desire to someday have the role of Hamlet- He’s Danish, I’m of Danish descent- he hated the King- my great grandfather Henry left Denmark positvevely LIVID at the Kind for the things he’d done to him and his family- he vowed NEVER to speak Dane again in all his life and scorned those who did. Not that that gives me any leverage but I feel I know Hamlet- and ya know something? I was very put out the first time Jeanne went on her anti-Hamlet tirades. It was personal. I felt a protective way toward the fictional prince. I still do- like the misbehaving little brother. I pity him. I moved on but it gnawed at me for days til’ I just came to terms with just accepting that as part of the role and well, hell, I can use it some day. Oh if only that day could come! One thing that DOES drive me mad though- all my young life I spent in fear of the theatre… growing up I vowed I would never be in a play. Then as I grew older into adulthood, gained my confidence- my one main fantasy fascination was to BE an actor- and to push my skill in the craft, learn more and more about it- I actually rent the Inside the Actor’s Studio DVDs and watch every minute like a hawk, sucking it all in like a sponge. I can’t get enough of it. Now within my deep love of the theatre- now that I WANT that thing that terrified me so long ago, after I got a taste of hearing the audience laugh & guffaw at my antics playing Philostrate and Peter Quince during the respective actor’s scheduled absence those nights of performances, hearing that cumulative reaction while your fellow cast has to turn away from you to keep from laughing like being in a Carol Burnett sketch- After experiencing all that- you can’t go long without needing it again like good cuisine. Now that I want and desire that to come back to me- now that I want to return to it like a prodigal son- now that I live back in my original theatre-less original home- I want it! I take back my previous fear- I take back my fear of any of it and embrace it. I pray for it to return every night of my life. How do you feel about contemporary takes on Shakespeare? Adaptations of Shakespeare’s works with a more modern feel? (For example, the new line of Manga Shakespeare graphic novels, or novels like Something Rotten, Something Wicked, Enter Three Witches, Ophelia, etc.) Do you have a favorite you’d recommend?
I love most of them. Jeanne was a purist. I am not. Like Alex said I think that being a purist is stifling and suffocating. Shakespeare wrote his work to be experimented with and twisted upon. That’s what all theatre is; variation on a theme. Movies are a director’s medium while the theatre is the actor’s medium. During rehearsal it belongs to the director but somewhere along the way the director is obligated to turn it over to the cast- it is their baby from Tech on. Shakespeare as an actor knew this and penned all the histories, the comedies, and the tragedies accordingly; for the actor. I would say my fave so far has been Mel Gibson’s Hamlet- more on that in my next ME ME question… but until then I ask you (whoever) to look at Much Ado About Nothing- which coincidentally enough I have just watched for about the twenty fifth time a couple weeks ago. I also love a movie Jeanne introduced me to with Dame Judy Dench’s BRAVE portrayal of Lady Macbeth- nuff said, right?
What’s your favorite movie version of a Shakespeare play?
Oh wow , Easily- Mel Gibson’s Hamlet. I KNOW I KNOW- I KNOW they left a lot out. But really people, this was made for todays ADD audience- I thought the concise rendition was well done and tastefull along with being respectful of the original. Though not necessary for me- (I’ve seen a full stage production at the Lamplight Theatre in Chicago that was complete and knocked my socks off!) Plus it was the only memorable performance from Helena Bonham Carter. Her Ophelia broke my heart as did Gibson’s Danish Prince. Glenn Close’s Gertrude freaked me out. She often does that. But I am sorry to say I think recently my own anger towards a very personal situation has ‘almost’ driven someone close to me ‘nearly’ insane in a sense- or rather more like my well deserved anger has done this to this person- I can’t believe I’m mentioning that here. Along with the fact that this person is tragically a closet bi-polar nut case and an alcoholic. I won’t ever comment on that relationship here- but it’ll work out as I know it won’t end in a self drowning. This person is my Ophelia like Michael was my Horatio- I love them both. And that- my friends, is how Shakespeare has affected my life.
A “Shakespeare Meme” from a posting from the fabulous Alexandra Billings website (alexandrabillings.com- her Live Journal section- I highly recommend a look at her website for entertainment, current events, entertainment and more entertainment. It’s more fun than a barrel of cabaret singing monkeys and the Lucille Ball show!). I hope she doesn’t mind but I’m using this as a posting of mine for an article submission- I had to write my own two cents worth on this one because Shakespeare at this point in my life carries and has carried a lot of weight… as I don’t have the patience OR stamina for keeping up a current blog. This is the next best thing for me and my writing fool neurotic self….What was your first introduction to William Shakespeare? Was it love or hate?
“Much like Ms. Billings, it was both. In lil ol’ Arlington High, I cringed at the statement my English teacher made one day at the beginning of the school year. Mr. Overfield proudly stated that we were going to study Hamlet!!! No, not just READ it, yes, he said, “STUDY it”.
“WTF?! I thought… “whoa, whoa, whoa! Dude! I DO NOT DO Shakespeare… that’s for the collegiate elite, not me. Ya know, the smarties. Not me.” Great, I was going to flunk English- a nice healthy side platter of failure right beside Algebra II. GAH.
The first thing he did the first day of our foray into the seemingly inaccessible old world bard was pop in a Betamax video of a BBC production with Patrick Stuart- yes Cpt. Picard as Claudius. Well I was STUNNED. And riveted. While my classmates slept I stared wide eyed and wistful at the large box t.v. my surprise waned and turned to genuine fervent interest in the sets, production, and most of all- acting talent with the fabulously romantic Dane and high drama played by these foreign people who spoke so beautifully. Right then and there my first thoughts before they revisited me in college in little Temple theatre at UNL campus- “I want to do that! Hell, I CAN do that!” While I was in love, I was horrified. This CAN’T BE!” I got over it and continued to be determined to ‘run with it’ anyway. Which Shakespeare plays have you been required to read? Well, that, the afore mentioned- Hamlet. Then, the other one is, I’m afraid to tell you is a long story- or involves a long story… in later years when I had first moved to Chicago- I had transferred from the sports bar, Old Chicago in Lincoln to the sister chain, Rock Bottom on the corner of State & Grand. There were two of my best Chicago friends there, one- was Michael the very OUT gay guy that was instantly taken by me- He set out to make me feel comfortable in that new environment- don’t understand that one but I wasn’t about to complain for someone SO cool connecting with me right away- and The VERY first day I was talking to another instant friend Amy over a fine cold dark beer after a LONG tiring lunch shift in the hot Chicago summer. Amy was a very tall girl who cajoled and laughed along with me in our sci-fi movie and literary quips during the many long double shifts and hash slinging, beer pushing days and nights amid the age worn wood floors. The whole establishment smelled like old Chicago history mixed with a hops scented environment; all within that large two floored humid restaurant. One afternoon at the downstairs bar, Amy asked with interest, “oh, Doug, you mean you ACT?!” I answered in the affirmative very proudly. These moments often made me proud as I remembered back in Overfield’s class when I was a frightened lil teenager not even prepared for the highs and low disappointments of college and terrified of the thought of performing in front of PEOPLE but WANTING to perform still; now I had done it and I had an actual history of doing it! I was ready to take on the acting thing in the big time.
Amy went on to say she was in a new theatre troupe, called the Boxer Rebellion Ensemble. Well, I was THRILLED- She continued, “Well, we’re doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream- it’s done in a 1960’s era style television show and we’re auditioning for some more members…” I almost peed. My stomach did one of those top of the staircase flips. Could I have stumbled on something so wonderful so INSANTLY upon my move from corn country? I wasn’t even completely settled into my little walk in closet of a studio apartment dump right across from Wrigley Field. I haven’t even completely familiarized myself with the Lakeview neighborhood yet!
So I said I would DEFINITELY try out- and my audition, which I don’t even clearly remember except I DO remember Daniel (the director) laughing uproariously at my shtick (it was some kinda gym environment I think)… well- I was ‘IN’ on the spot. I was slightly disappointed playing what amounted to be an extra as all the leads were cast long ago before I even arrived in Chicago- but I was an understudy for Peter Quince and Philostrate- “great”, I thought. “The butler”, fine- I go from George Gibbs in Lincoln NE, to not even being guaranteed to quip a few lines as a Shakespearean servant in a company that has to perform in a basement of a real theatre which we haven’t even seen yet. Well, no matter- I ran with it as I loved my cast-mates and the times we had and also- was promised by Kern, the president of the Rebellion, lead roles in future productions. So you can bet I was determined to be in it for the long haul.
Do you think Shakespeare is important? Do you feel you are a “better” person for having read the bard? I think Miss Alex Billings said it best in her answer- maybe not ‘better’ but rather “more awake”. Fir sure! My artistic life is sure one hell of a lot richer for it. Without Shakespeare, I sure wouldn’t have gone through what I have without him.
For instance, during the rehearsal run of Midsummer, after a long shift at Rock Bottom, I went out with friends and had a wonderful time, living it up in my new city. I was sporting a full 400 hundred dollars AFTER spending money like a rock star with friends at the bar- feeling quite smug and secure in the fact that I had made a full month’s rent from one hard night at work! My friend and I went our separate ways to go home. I made my way to the 7-11 to get an after party non alcoholic beverage and strolling down the walk on a fairly busy street I lamented at the beginning rain- “aw, shit”- I was a good several blocks and an el stop away from my little hole in the wall and turned back right away. Suddenly and little hooded figure (yeah- he was little) stepped out from a cubby- no, not an alley, a cubby with his hood on. All I saw were the whites of his eyes and a glint of metal from the street lights in his hoody covered hands- well, it WAS cold. All I heard was, “gimmee yer wallet man, gimme yer wallet.” In my mind a rush of memories flashed in that insant. One was my mother starting to cry when I told her over a lunch at Old Chicago that I wanted to move to Chicago- my room mate and best friend Ann standing on the steps of our rental house saying, “CHICAGO?! But you can’t move to Chicago- you’ll DIE!” Then desiring to prove them all wrong and that I’d be “juuust fiiiine”. I handed him my wallet not wanting to take a potential bullet and future “I told ya sos!. Any freak who had the guts to come up to some random Joe wouldn’t be afraid to use a gun- I’m from Omaha- please. Then I also ran through all the Nebraska jokes from my new Chicago friends. You know- like, Jeanne, my close friend from Brooklyn (and veteran Shakespearean actress who I KNOW I’ll write more about later) busting my chops at being naïve and ignorant on how I conducted certain affairs… along with my whole ongoing need to prove to my cast mates and co-workers what I could do with my skills. Yes, all that in 1.5 seconds. While little African American Jawa Man rifled through my wallet, yes, taking my 400 dollars, I actually, oh you’ll get a kick out of this, I actually urged and talked him in to giving my wallet back! Yah, it went like this- “C’mon man, take the money nothing else is worth anything to you, I’ll just cancel my credit card and I need my liscence. Just take the money and give me back my wallet.” Well the kind young considerate little Jawa threw my wallet at my feet and rand back to whatever Tattooine dumpster awaited him in the night beyond.
I picked up my little bundle of security and walked on – stunned and yeah- ashamed that I allowed this to happen. I vowed INSTANTLY that NO ONE would know about this.
Then it hit me. All my rent money was gone. All of it.
Walking on in the now totally barren street in the full downpour, not a soul in sight- came my good friend Michael- just bouncing down the sidewalk. I was never more glad to see another human in all my life! He’d just been returning from our workplace on State Street via a cab and was going to the Addison El stop. That’s when it hit me… a familiar friendly face and I clutched him the instant I heard his words, “HEY DOUGIE!!!” His face fell the instant he saw me and grabbed me in response to my despair. I just collapsed as the Doogie levy’s broke- Michael just held me in his arms while I literally wept like a baby. I was now doubly ashamed and embarrassed. Little dumb Nebraska boy had no right to be here and try to make a go at this life! I was ashamed that I felt five years old and wanted his Mommy! I was PISSED that I wanted my Mommy! I was crazy pissed that that little Jawa man TOOK my hard earned cash! I hope he OD’d- on whatever he used it for. Sincerely I did. I don’t anymore though- I actually hope that money did him some good and I’m happy I could help- heheheheh. In this emotional peak, Michael just asked quietly while I was weeping, “where were you going, Doug?” I told him sniffly- “home!”
“oh no, you’re not going anywhere alone right now… you’re coming home with me. C’mon.” I loved him forevermore after that. So of course the next morning he went to work and, well, it a restaurant and nothing gets by your server/kitchen family if something happens to you. I didn’t have choice. I didn’t have to work til after my next rehearsal and I knew what awaited me without saying boo to anyone- and the day I walked into our makeshift rehearsal space above a little food market out in some west neighborhood- upon opening the door upstairs I was met by first Daniel then a hoard of “oooooh Doooooogies-“ and “OH IM SOOO SORRYS” They all put their arms up and out toward me in a gesture of love and empathy- giving comfort to the scared little farm boy from Oatmeal Nebraska who had his first taste of big bad city life. All thanks to dear ol’ Bill Shakespeare. I would LOVE to hollah out to any and all of my old theatre friends from back in the day- the Boxer Rebellion is no longer around- seems their lack of funds only got worse and they officially went under which I only discovered the year I moved back here to Oatmeal, NE. It was soon after Midsummer- that I was given a role as the Mayor in Inherit the Wind but had to leave being still unhappy about their artistic direction and just general planning- as my own personal funds were no longer allowing me to live a life worth living in the big bad city. I was far from being scared away. But my checking account wasn’t. I will return one day. Oh yes. Oh yes I will.
Do you have a favorite Shakespeare play?
By far it has to be Hamlet!!! I adore that guy. I know. One thing I don’t understand and never have is WHY-do people call him insane!??? The guy’s uncle KILLS his father and EW, marries his widowed sister in law??! Whaaaa? WTF indeed. He goes on a well deserved rampage and people deem that insane. ? Well, I think he took it pretty well, if you ask me! All jokes aside, one person that really made me think twice about my gut reaction to the bratty prince is my good great grand friend Jeanne Desmond, whom I spoke earlier of, from Brooklyn. Ah the first hand Brooklyn stories I was given by her! Long late nights with her talking your ear off, while tutoring me on Shakespeare plays and theory in many levels- “busting my chops well deservedly, I might add- are memories I’ll always treasure and put in a little special box in my heart forever. I miss her dearly – so much I get a catch in my throat as I write this.
She always said of Hamlet, that he should have respected his mother- and she deserved a life after the death of the King murdered or not- That Hamlet didn’t once give a thought for her and his narcissistic little mind only thought of himself and sacrificed not only his mother’s love but the love of Ophelia who he drove insane because of it. She waxed on this tirade, (often being very theatrical about it) actually raising her voice as if she KNEW them all!! While she mystified me when she did this (she it often- you learned to never mention Hamlet in her presence- much like the Macbeth legend within a theatre- you never mentioned Hamlet in Jeanne Desmond’s apartment). I was stunned. How could I have been so simplistic all these years! I never thought of that and was ashamed that I never saw it that way… Hamlet has never been the same to me since Jeanne. Now I’m faced with the impossible desire to someday have the role of Hamlet- He’s Danish, I’m of Danish descent- he hated the King- my great grandfather Henry left Denmark positvevely LIVID at the Kind for the things he’d done to him and his family- he vowed NEVER to speak Dane again in all his life and scorned those who did. Not that that gives me any leverage but I feel I know Hamlet- and ya know something? I was very put out the first time Jeanne went on her anti-Hamlet tirades. It was personal. I felt a protective way toward the fictional prince. I still do- like the misbehaving little brother. I pity him. I moved on but it gnawed at me for days til’ I just came to terms with just accepting that as part of the role and well, hell, I can use it some day. Oh if only that day could come! One thing that DOES drive me mad though- all my young life I spent in fear of the theatre… growing up I vowed I would never be in a play. Then as I grew older into adulthood, gained my confidence- my one main fantasy fascination was to BE an actor- and to push my skill in the craft, learn more and more about it- I actually rent the Inside the Actor’s Studio DVDs and watch every minute like a hawk, sucking it all in like a sponge. I can’t get enough of it. Now within my deep love of the theatre- now that I WANT that thing that terrified me so long ago, after I got a taste of hearing the audience laugh & guffaw at my antics playing Philostrate and Peter Quince during the respective actor’s scheduled absence those nights of performances, hearing that cumulative reaction while your fellow cast has to turn away from you to keep from laughing like being in a Carol Burnett sketch- After experiencing all that- you can’t go long without needing it again like good cuisine. Now that I want and desire that to come back to me- now that I want to return to it like a prodigal son- now that I live back in my original theatre-less original home- I want it! I take back my previous fear- I take back my fear of any of it and embrace it. I pray for it to return every night of my life. How do you feel about contemporary takes on Shakespeare? Adaptations of Shakespeare’s works with a more modern feel? (For example, the new line of Manga Shakespeare graphic novels, or novels like Something Rotten, Something Wicked, Enter Three Witches, Ophelia, etc.) Do you have a favorite you’d recommend?
I love most of them. Jeanne was a purist. I am not. Like Alex said I think that being a purist is stifling and suffocating. Shakespeare wrote his work to be experimented with and twisted upon. That’s what all theatre is; variation on a theme. Movies are a director’s medium while the theatre is the actor’s medium. During rehearsal it belongs to the director but somewhere along the way the director is obligated to turn it over to the cast- it is their baby from Tech on. Shakespeare as an actor knew this and penned all the histories, the comedies, and the tragedies accordingly; for the actor. I would say my fave so far has been Mel Gibson’s Hamlet- more on that in my next ME ME question… but until then I ask you (whoever) to look at Much Ado About Nothing- which coincidentally enough I have just watched for about the twenty fifth time a couple weeks ago. I also love a movie Jeanne introduced me to with Dame Judy Dench’s BRAVE portrayal of Lady Macbeth- nuff said, right?
What’s your favorite movie version of a Shakespeare play?
Oh wow , Easily- Mel Gibson’s Hamlet. I KNOW I KNOW- I KNOW they left a lot out. But really people, this was made for todays ADD audience- I thought the concise rendition was well done and tastefull along with being respectful of the original. Though not necessary for me- (I’ve seen a full stage production at the Lamplight Theatre in Chicago that was complete and knocked my socks off!) Plus it was the only memorable performance from Helena Bonham Carter. Her Ophelia broke my heart as did Gibson’s Danish Prince. Glenn Close’s Gertrude freaked me out. She often does that. But I am sorry to say I think recently my own anger towards a very personal situation has ‘almost’ driven someone close to me ‘nearly’ insane in a sense- or rather more like my well deserved anger has done this to this person- I can’t believe I’m mentioning that here. Along with the fact that this person is tragically a closet bi-polar nut case and an alcoholic. I won’t ever comment on that relationship here- but it’ll work out as I know it won’t end in a self drowning. This person is my Ophelia like Michael was my Horatio- I love them both. And that- my friends, is how Shakespeare has affected my life.
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