honky cracker: Tummyachin' Back in Beatown Hey everybody. I'm back. Damn, NYC this weekend was a fantastic time. You know, I hang out here on the Robot by day, and I see everybody's stuff. People start to take on lives of their own in my head, and then, FWA-BAM! There they are. Live and in person. It's kinda like reading a book, and then when you get to a certain point in the book, the characters come to life and you're smack-dab in the middle of it.
I'll write about the trip in greater detail just as soon as I do a little more digesting. (Both literally and figuratively.) Somewhere this weekend I developed a troublesome little stomach ache, and the damn thing keeps lingering. However, my stomach is telling me right now that it needs a burger. Perhaps that burger will snap my stomach out of its funk.
One strange thing happened today. After we went out with Rich and Rachel, I took Liz around to some of my old NYC haunts . The first place I took her to was this little lounge over on Lafayette Street called Marion's. Marion's is this sort of art-deco-ish looking place on Lafayette St -- right across the street from where my old ensemble rehearsed our production of Chekhov's Three Sisters. The production was double cast -- so each member of the ensemble had a chance to play a larger role and a smaller role -- and my friend David and I were cast in the same role (Baron Tuzenbach, for those of you familiar with the play.) in each of the casts. David and I became fast friends, spending all day in rehearsals together and hanging out at night. After a good, long 12 hour day of rehearsal and class, David and I would hang out at Marion's till 'the wee hours, talking about our character, plays we were writing, The Revolution, and whatever struck our fancy.
I hadn't talked to David in over a year, and I couldn't stop thinking about our ensemble days the entire weekend.
So I was sitting at my computer just a short while ago, trying to put everything together into a nice, neat Honkycracker entry when my phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but I pick it up anyways. Sure enough, it's David. Hadn't talked to the guy in over a year. I thought I had lost the kid forever. But no. There he was. On the other end of my phone.
Now I guess I know how characters on soap operas must feel when someone they thought had been dead for years comes back onto the show.
