Monday, June 1, 2009

'Fly Fishing Towards Another Performance'

Its finally June 1st, and the deadline clock is ticking. I have lots of work to do for the next incarnation of the show. If you can imagine, I'm doing the show on the top of a huge sand rock mesa, and the only road up there is four wheel drive or front wheel drive. It is, however, a beautiful little amphitheater with a flagstone stage. I remember years ago, (probably  1988) as I went into business with a little 100 seat theatre on the outskirts of Phoenix, I remember coming to work and seeing a coyote crossing into the desert from the theatre. I thought, "This is a long way from New York City..." The enthusiasm of your late twenties and early thirties will take you quite a ways. If the passion is there, you could probably really sell 'ice water in hell'. Doing theatre 'way out there' was as close to selling ice water in hell as one could get, but oh how sweet the taste on the pallet. The devil be damned! Now, if I can just get the flats up that dirt road. 

Today is also the start of two theatre acting workshops I'm doing here, and from the sound of things, they are full. So, this afternoon is a couple of hours of preparation, and then on to spread the 'gospel of theatre'. Its been a year since I quit my teaching job, and I do miss the teaching, it will be a nice part of my week. For a small town, Boulder actually offers lots of things to do, especially in the summer. 

Yesterday, the last day in May, I found Tod Campbell and we drove the twelve miles or so to King's Pasture, and then walked the two miles up the hill to Grass Lake to fly fish. It was absolutely amazing up there, as the Spring arrived at 9,000 feet, nothing like it. Grass Lake is a little bit difficult to navigate, so there is rarely anyone there, which was the case yesterday. Fly fishing, (and I do wet fly, not the dry fly) is always a 'zen' experience. There is just enough to do that you have to pay attention, and then there is the anticipation of the fish hitting the fly. The fish in Grass Lake are fat and beautiful, native brook trout, but are extremely hard to catch there. So, when you do catch, its a marvel. Although Spring had arrived on the mountain, the bugs have not, so the fish are down deep, feeding on shrimp and bottom bugs, still, it was thrilling to get the first cast onto the water, and wonder if one fish would rise. During the whole stay, huge thunder clouds loomed towards the ridge of the mountain,  spitting out lightning and roaring thunder, but alas, we remained dry, except for the black mud that caked my hiking shoes, from traversing out to the edge of the lake. An excellent end to May. Goodbye, May, you have been kind. 

As for the new addition to the family, 'Baby', she is doing great. She is a joy to have around, although its true I have to watch her every second, or something else will have teeth marks on it. I can see her little personality begin to develop, and she is going to be the smartest dog on the planet, probably be the first 'dog president'. Okay, well, I'm partial. 

Thunder clouds are moving in as I'm writing this, so I will have to stop for now, so, onward June, bring us bugs and more rain. Bring us charity and danger. Bring us hope...


Gerry said...

I all but picked up your impulse to blog just before you did it, and I must say what a delightful account of a trip to fish. DB will be delighted with this. I laughed at your smart dog becoming president, well dog president. I do wish you a smart dog. You will be blessed if that is the case. I am reminded of Frosty who was unfortunately not gifted with a high dog I.Q. Mom

caroline said...

Hope would be good, yes...and thanks for offering the workshops. Of all the things I ever thought I might learn in BTown, I never thought of acting. It's good to be a complete beginner. Someone's got to hold up the tail end!

Ann said...

I do hope your acting class helps support your the old days we acted, we each had an act we had to perfect. Mine was Sugar in the Morning until I took a modern dance class and then it was dance. We taught all the boys to dance, ourselves, and anyone else that happened by. Aunt Nethella taught us the Charleston when we wore her flapper dresses.
Boulder has a long history of acting and dancing...all for free!
Wasn't it our own rough cowboy dad who did a ballerina and climbed on a chair to reach high C, and had everyone in the audience howling with glee? And our sister Gerry who wrote, directed, and acted in plays and did such readings as Singapore Spider and The Dance, directing us all!
I do hope you make enough to sustain your life.

DB said...

If Baby wants to run, she has my vote.

Your venture up to the mesa where only jeeps and stage coaches roam should be intriguing and memorable. It's not something a New Yorker would do but if I was out there I would give it a try. The city has its own version of the unusual and out of the way. I have found a small and obscure old building in some forgotten corner of lower Manhattan, gone up a rickety, swaying elevator, "limit 4 persons" to the 6th floor, stepped into a crowded outer room, gave the girl $7.50 to get a poorly printed program, then, when called ("house is open") gone inside another small room to sit for 2 hours in an uncomfortable chair to watch an amazing performance.

May you have charity, danger, hope and triumph.


Dan said...

Your bro is one step closer!