Wednesday, February 22, 2012
It was the night before our "press preview" night, when we would unveil the show to Houston's media. Jef had, wisely, given us the night off. For two weeks straight, we had rehearsed non-stop on the stage upstairs at Fitzgerald's. Our pleas to be allowed to practice on the actual stage we were assigned to had fallen on deaf ears. We just couldn't get the staff to understand that we weren't just like any other band. Concepts like blocking were foreign to them, as they'd never dealt with a play before. I cannot say that they weren't supportive, as they provided us with our own storage closet, and rigged us a "backstage" area to change in. They just didn't grasp the needs that a production like this required. As I lie in bed, on the eve of us playing to a live audience, a sense of nervous apprehension crept in.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
I was on a metaphorical ledge, about to jump with the whole Hedwig project in my arms. Jef was patiently trying to talk me off that ledge. For over an hour, he kindly debated with me that I couldn't just dump the show at this stage in the game. The show, he argued, was no longer just mine, but now belonged to all the folks who were working so hard to make it happen. Once again, my frustration at various problems was being vented in Jef's direction. Eventually, I cooled down, and Jef's more rational ideas started to seep into my thick skull. Very few people who were involved in the production knew how close it was to being scrapped. Jef is owed a huge thanks for preventing me from letting that happen.
Monday, February 20, 2012
We had the makings of a band, a director, a hairstylist, make-up artist, photographer, a leading lady and a seamstress. The only thing missing was the biggest one of all: money. The same obstacle that had derailed my film project with Annie was now rearing its ugly head once again, and I had no prospects of how to attract investors to the show. I just prayed that this detail would somehow iron itself out, and proceeded with planning for the show.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Jef sat in stunned silence, looking at me as if wondering if I was having him on. "What?" he spit out, searching my face for a hint that this was just another example of my bizarre sense of humor. I repeated myself, "I've decided I'm going to produce and star in Hedwig, and I want you and Lynda involved. In fact, I want YOU to direct the show". Jef, still seemingly waiting for the punch-line, said "but Dave, I've never directed a show in my life. Rocky Horror cast director hardly counts. Why on earth would you want ME for your director"? I explained to him how I'd noticed all the great ideas, and what-not, he had during our conversations about various shows. It was obvious he hadn't really thought about directing, but that the potential was there. I wanted to give him a chance that no one else probably would, simply because of his age and inexperience. The more we talked, the more intrigued he became. I could tell that the ideas were all swirling around in his head as we spoke. I couldn't help but smile.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
As 2002 wore on, my marriage to Elaine became ever- more rocky. By December of that year, she and I had come to the realization that the only way to save our friendship was to split up. At the same time this was occurring, my job situation had become precarious. The facility I worked in was scheduled to be closed by the end of 2003, so I needed to get out of there. With my life in so much upheaval, I knew it was time for a total overhaul. I inquired within my company for job possibilities, and actually got a promotion! Best of all, the job was back in Houston! I had nothing tying me to San Antonio, other than a few friends. My time in SA had been one of heartache, loss and pain, and I was eager to distance myself from a place that reminded me so clearly of all this grief. Unfortunately, a snag occurred in the job situation, and I was put into a kind of holding pattern until it could be sorted out. I had already given notice at my apartments, and moved in with my friend, Daniel. What was supposed to be two weeks living on Dan's futon turned into five months!!!! Finally, in May of 2003, I got word that all the red tape had been sorted out, and I would be moving to Houston. As I travelled out of town, I listened to the Hedwig soundtrack. Passing the city limits, these words played: “…'cause with all the changes you've been through/ it seems the stranger's always you/ alone again in some new wicked little town/ and when you've got no other choice/ you know you can follow my voice/ through the dark turns and noise of this wicked little town/ it's a wicked little town/ goodbye, wicked little town”
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Here is something a bit different. I usually post primarily about horror/Halloween/Monsters, etc., but I decided to focus on another important aspect of my personality: acting. This is the first part of a brief series I did a few years back, about the story of how Hedwig & the Angry Inch wound up coming to Houston. It's quite a bit different from my usual faire, but I hope that all three of you who read my blog will still enjoy it! I first heard about the play Hedwig & The Angry Inch in a review in Rolling Stone magazine, circa 1998. I was intrigued by the premise, and reviewer David Fricke gushed about how incredible both the songs and story were. I made a mental note to further investigate it, but soon forgot it amongst all the normal crap of day-to-day life. A few months later, I'm paid a visit from my friends, Lynda and Jef. Jef had made a trip to New York, and seen the play live in the flesh. He raved on and on about how incredible this show was, and proceeded to play me the soundtrack. I was an instant fan. The music was one of the greatest rock scores I'd ever heard for a musical, and the story was quite compelling.