It's Monday, and my LimoLiner has turned back into a pumpkin. It's hard to believe that less than 48 hours ago I was lucky enough to be performing my own material on Broadway. The show went really well, with eight of us telling our tales of life after birth. What a high. Now I'm scrubbing toilets. Shakespeare must have had days like these. Not that he had any toilets to scrub, or kids to take care of, since he ditched them with his wife back in Stratford-upon-Avon. But, still, I wonder what it was like for him to come back to his little rented room after a sold-out night of Richard III. Did he just heat up his little pot of gruel, rinse out his codpiece and drawers, and then go to bed dreaming of fame and fortune?
Given the average life-span back then, Shakespeare was basically middle-aged just like me when he started to get his theater groove on. Maybe it's not too late for me. I wouldn't want to ditch my kids permanently in the suburbs, but maybe I could take them with me on the road and work them into the act. All I need is a monkey suit and an organ grinder...
Monday, November 9, 2009
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