STANWOOD

I was exiting the QFC out of the side door (which I prefer cause less people use it.)
My hands were full.
Groceries in the left arm and a case of beer in my right hand.
There was an elderly woman.
Struggling to make it up the slight ramp.
I put my stuff on the ground.
"Would you like an arm?" I asked.
"It's just this slope," she said.
She took my arm and I walked her up to the flat ground and a cart.
"I'm good here " she said and thanked me.
It was nice.
As I made my way back to where I left my groceries there was another old lady eyeing my case of beer sitting on the ground.
"I was about to take that!" She said with a cackle.
I think it was a joke.
I think.
STANWOOD.

Aurora

Golden Gardens
It's a beach in Seattle with actual sand.
We'd head down there at night.
Build a fire.
Drink a few Henry Weinhard's.
It was fun.
Squishing your toes in the sand.
Looking into the amber fire light.
Chatting.
One night it was just me and Dan.
No one else on the beach.
It was dark and cool.
We had a nice little fire going when the sky changed.
There was a weird shimmer to it.
Colors you don't see at night.
"Do you see that?" Dan asked.
I did.
The sky lit up.
Rippling.
Pastels like waves.
I was confused.
But I did see it.
"It's the Northern Lights."
One of the coolest things I've ever seen.
Aurora Borealis.
It was magic.
Two dudes warming themselves by the fire.
Drinking a beer.
Watching the night paint the sky.
Magic

MARINERS

I started watching baseball as a little kid
They showed games on TV after cartoons
They mostly showed the best team in baseball
The Cincinnati Reds
I started to root for that team
Then I grew to love them
Johnny Bench
Pete Rose
Joe Morgan
Griffey
The Big Red Machine
Amazing!
Then in 1977 WE got a team!
The Seattle Mariners!
I learned the line-up
Billy and I could quote them back and forth
(Fun fact, Danny Kaye was one of the original owners of the M's)
Danny Kaye!
You don't know him?
Well, if I wasn't watching baseball, I was watching him
Thumbelina
White Christmas
The Court Jester
He's hilarious!
So, back to baseball
I grew to love my team
They weren't good
But they were my team from MY town
In the mid 90's we got good
Griffey...Jr.
Randy
Edgar
with Lou at the helm
It was fun
So
much fun
Then the M's hit their stride
In 2001 we finished with the best season ever in baseball history
116 wins!
and lost to the Yankees in the playoffs
You're bound to think this is strange
But I cheered and cried when we lost
I cheered when my beloved team didn't go to the World Series
How is that?
I was in New York, at Blondies on the upper west side
One of my favorite places for wings and beer
With friends
I'm the only guy wearing a Mariners hat in the bar
I got a little bit a business from a few guys but it's not bad
I'm rooting for my team but when we lose
I cheer
How could I possibly cheer?
Why would I cry and sing "New York, New York." with love in my heart?!
Because
It was just after 9/11
New York was hurting...badly
and in that moment
in that bar
New York felt relief and joy
It was palpable
and I was happy
Sometimes things are bigger than sports
So I'm always going to root for my Charlie Brown team
Someday we'll get there
I love them
But for one moment I can weep and cheer for another side

SUNSET BOWL

Down in Ballard there was a bowling alley called, SUNSET BOWL.

My buddies Eric and Dan lived a couple blocks away.

We'd go there once in a while.

It was fun.

We'd pile into the 62 Cadillace we bought together and go the three or four blocks to the alley.

We didn't have much money so we'd only play a couple games.

Sometimes to up the stakes we'd make a bet.

Loser has to run around yelling, "I'm a loser!"

That sort of juvenile thing.

This night we bet that the person that has the lowest score has to run home in only his underwear.

It's a hilarious proposition and we all agree.

Late in the game I'm not winning but I'm way ahead of Scott.

Scott is doomed for the underwear run.

I'm bowling a decent game.

But I get cocky.

The Raineer beer has really kicked in so I start bowling.

Between my legs.

Backwards even.

Laughing all the while.

I throw one in the gutter and finish my game.

Scott comes up.

10th frame.

He needs three strikes in a row.

I'm not sure if he hit a strike the entire game.

STRIKE

STRIKE

STRIKE

and I'm in last place.

I couldn't believe it.

But you know I'm not gonna mooch on a bet.

So, I strip down to my tighty whiteys and start running back to the house.

I didn't think it was going to be a big deal.

It was dark.

About 4 blocks away.

But the guys jump into the Caddy hit the high beams behind me and start honking the horn.

Porch-lights start popping on as I sprint in my Fruit of the Looms.

So embarrassing.

Also funny and a lesson.

The game aint over till the game over.

LUMBERJACK

We fell a bunch of trees on our property and Dad cut them up with his chainsaw.
It was a mountain of wood.
He offered to pay me to chop it.
$5 an hour.
Deal.
But it was hard work.
I had one really big log cut from the base of a tree that I used as my chopping block.
I'd place a smaller log on it
Step back
and
Crack
Crack
till it split.
Took me some time but I got pretty good at it.
If you don't hit the wood center the ax glances off.
That's a danger.
If you don't swing hard enough it's a waste of time.
So there's a balance.
Between danger and success.
Splitting a piece of wood is a wonderful feeling.
When done right it feels like a base hit
or a Home Run.
So I'd put my Men At Work tape on my boombox
and go to work.
I liked it.
It was visceral.
Tangible.
You can see the wood falling into pieces at your feet
and building into piles.
It was exhausting
and I loved it.
(Except f*ing Cherry.
Don't waste your time chopping Cherry.
It's nearly impossible.
The bark has a band around it.
I could hack my way through Alder and Cedar.
But Cherry is a waste of energy.
Just saw your Cherry up small and add it to the fire.)
Rant over...
I learned how to swing a splitting maul.
That can be a little dicey.
You jam the big metal wedge into a gap you've made.
Turn the heavy ax over to the pounding side and try to make direct contact.
It can be quite satisfying when you hit it square and the wedge digs in deeper.
Hit it again and that giant log splits in two.
It can be scary as heck when you just miss and your maul comes flying toward your leg.
Loved the work though.
It was challenging.
Made me stronger.
And I could see the piles build up.
As a young man it was a visual example of the progress being made by hard work.
One of those things where you could look at it and say,
"I did that."
Course then I had to stack it.
That wasn't as much fun.

12

I was on a fishing boat chartered out of Long Beach, WA.
12 years old.
I'm the only kid on the boat.
We head out into the choppy Pacific.
The sky was gray and rain pelted down.
The waves were pretty big but I thought it was fun.
Splashing through the water.
It was like the Log Ride and Knott's Berry Farms.
Except for, you know, it wasn't over in two minutes.
We were land lubbers so we all got green.
But still we set out the lines.
The rain picked up.
Though feeling sick I was still excited.
Never had been deep sea fishing before.
After a while I realize I'm the only person still out, fishing.
Everyone else was sick.
Inside the cabin.
Well, I was sick too, puking over the side of the boat, but I wasn't going to stop.
Caught a really nice Sea Bass.
Told myself I brought it to the surface with my personal chum.
I want to keep fishing.
Then I notice the rain change.
The sky gets darker.
The sea is still rolling but something is different.
Ominous.
The rain starts to burn my eyes.
The captain comes over the com.
"Sorry folks we are going to have to turn back."
No one is upset by this news but me.
"Mt. St. Helen's blew up again. We're in an ash storm."
COOL, I thought!
I mean.
I was 12.

STAR STRUCK

It was an after-after party in New York.
Don't remember how I got invited.
It was a small gathering and we were celebrating a birthday.
It was my teen-age hero.
Watched all his stuff.
Loved it.
I don't really get star struck.
I guess a few composers have had me in awe.
What they create is incredible.
But actors.
Not often.
But
This guy is who I wanted to be growing up.
He was funny.
He could act.
He was handsome.
And this was his birthday party.
And he was sitting right there on the couch.
By himself, while others chatted and laughed and drank.
So I took a big swig and steeled myself to go talk to him.
I approach him.
"Happy birthday," I say.
And then my by brain freezes.
I admire your work.
You've been an influence in my life.
I think I've seen everything you've done.
What was it like working with Neil Simon?
Any of those would have been okay.
Nope.
I blurt out,  "I really liked Ferris Bueller's Day Off!"
THAT IS WHAT I SAID.
"Thank you," he said politely.
I shuffled off and left him there on the couch.

Perspective

Port Townsend
I had sweet housing.
It was a garden house with a stained glass window.
There was a track a couple blocks away and I would run there.
At the junior high.
They had a sign that basically said, "Don't run here when kids are here."
So, when I saw kids on the track one day I went another way.
"I'll just run through the neighborhood."
As I start out I see an arrow painted on the street.
Right by my place.
Pointing to a path I hadn't seen before.
Alright.
I guess I'll follow the arrow.
Then there was another.
Pointing through the woods.
I followed.
It was magnificent.
Another arrow painted on the ground pointed to another path
and I came upon Fort Worden Park.
It was magical!
I ran down to the beach and around it
and back up.
Apparently I'd come across a race course.
It was so beautiful.
Maybe the best run of my life.
I know it's important to keep your head up.
But sometimes you've got to see the arrows in the ground at your feet.

C FLAT

I had a small solo in Hunchback of Notre Dame at the beginning of the show.
There was one note I just couldn't get right.
It was strange cause I've sang barbershop and many tight difficult harmonies.
I just couldn't get this one.
It was so foreign to my brain.
The words were also a little tricky.
"Righteous Claude Frollo was ever more DRAWN like a son to Notre Dame."
Seems easy enough.
Wasn't.
I felt that the word drawn wasn't quite right.
I asked for a rehearsal recording to practice.
I think there's a chance.
Maybe just a chance the recording wasn't right.
It happens.
I was struggling with that one note.
So I went to my pitch pipe and the score.
And drilled it into my head.
Over and over again.
And over again.
Till it was strong.
A solid C.
Right on pitch.
Discordant but a C!
The music director pulls me aside one day,
"You're missing that note."
"Really?" I say. "I've practiced that as hard as anything."
We look at the score and I see it's a C flat.
Not a C
It's a B
Why would someone do that?
I've been involved in music most of my life.
I'm no composer or theoretician.
I don't understand why someone would write C flat when they could
Just write B
But now my brain has been programmed.
That's a mind F.
I retrain myself and it sounds WAY better!
Guess I should have paid more attention to that key signature.
Composers can be cruel.

SPANISH HARLEM

110th and Manhattan Ave, NY NY
I was subletting
From and English teacher friend of Laura's
It was the projects
Front door was broken and unlocked
Empty 40's sat on the stairway up the 4 floors to my room
Where the bed was on the floor
But it was my place
for that short time
while I tried to secure a job in theater
It's what I could afford
Barely
Actually I couldn't afford it but it's what I got
I was out of place
A young man from Lynnwood, WA
In Spanish Harlem
By myself
wasn't really sure how it was going to work out
Let's just say it was out of the realm of my comfort

Once early on living there I came home LATE at night
Might have been after 2am
There were a throng of young Latino men in the street
In front of the building
With baseball bats
Eyeing me as I approached
Puerto Rican
or Dominican
I don't know for sure
But they were intimidating
White baggy T-shirts
Playing street ball
at 2am
Under the sodium lights
I'm the odd-ball
In their neighborhood
approaching their home
But it's where I live too
At least for that month
The game stops
I take a deep breath as I approach
Try to steel my nerves
and enter the open door
Pass the 40's and go back to my room
After a week goes by
They recognize me
and give me a wave when I come home
To their home
Never gave me trouble once
In fact
After a few weeks
I felt protected
By those guys with bats
Outside their building

WHY

When you ask why?
I understand your confusion
From the start I've been laughed at, mocked
My new school
OAK HEIGHTS ELEMENTARY
The talent show
Singing "Can't Smile Without You."
By Barry Manilow
I practiced A capella
But performed accompanied
In a key I could not sing
In front of all my peers
Eleven years old
I run off the stage
Crying, refusing to return to class

But only one year later
Under harsh florescent lights
of the Alderwood Mall
There, I Amahl
hobble on the small carpeted stage
A crippled shepherd boy
My soccer team (The Vikings) in front on fold-able brown metal chairs
make faces while I sing and clump along

And these
just the seeds of my desire
Not yet firmly rooted

On stage I have
Slipped, tripped and fallen several times
Bit lip, cheek tongue
stubbed toes
Let go a monstrous fart in Timmy Howar's face
Banged knees
drawn blood
and even got a splinter in my butt
Been spat on
Slapped, pushed, punched and kicked
Once dropped by a vicious testicle jab
from aforementioned Mr. Howar

I have
lost my voice too many times to count
Forgotten, flubbed and butchered books of lines
Cracked, Splatted, Skwonked and Screeched
a score of notes
Inhaled the dust motes, mold the grit and grime
from house to house to house
Sang in perfume and lingerie departments
Sang outside in snow and rain
for breakfasts, lunches, dinners
where no one listens but jabbers and shoves
food down their gullets
while we a mere quartet sing HANDEL'S MESSIAH
at the top of our lungs

Once, swear to God
Hired as Christmas Carolers
for a Jewish party
"Do not mention Christmas or Christ,"
She said leading us into the elegant room of strangers
So, "Dreidel Dreidel Dreidel I made it out of clay!"
Then,
"Light the Menora Day by Day"
and then... and then...
Ah!
"City Sidewalks, busy sidewalks dressed in Holiday style
in the air there's a feeling of..."
Shit!
No!
So, "Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel" for the next two hours
Till a lovely woman approaches
"Would you sing 'Silent Night?' I love that song"
Saved!

I have
Performed with kids, puppets and dogs
and seen two of the three piss on stage

One summer mobbed attempting to hand out fliers
at the Seattle Center on kid's day dressed as Tigger
"Let go Tigger's tail"
"T.I. double grrrr let go Tigger!"
"Please little boy let go of Tigger's tail."
"LET TIGGER'S FUCKING TAIL GO NOW!!!"

I have been too fat, too young, too old, too fit, too tall and too short

And these my favorite quotes
"In all his songs he left you wanting more.
He never seemed to bring the songs to their full emotional level."
Dwight Jenson, Phoenix

And this,
"all the charisma of a resentful detention study hall proctor."
Joe Adcock-Seattle PI

and my personal favorite
"Greg Stone plays a cypher-like Chris"
What's that mean?
Flip through Webster
Cypher- Zero
            - a person of no influence
            - a non entity
Nice!

I have missed
birthdays, weddings, anniversaries
my nephews baseball games, niece's school play
and almost every holiday

And coming home one year
The look on my wife's face
Hollow, sad and lost
I needn't open the manila envelope
stamped Clarke, Dinsdale LLP to know

So why?
Why go through the pain, loss, torture and fear?
So many different fears
The ridicule
backstabbing
brain cramming

Why drink gallons of Throat Coat tea
buckets of hot honey lemon water
and suck handfuls of Ricolas and Fisherman's Friends?

No more, chocolate, orange juice, mild and cheese
these phlegm factories

Cut back the smoking and the booze and save it all for one binge filled Monday
The Actor's Weekend!

Why spend my time on buses and planes
in cars that take me to my home
a Day's Inn Petri Dish in
Peoria, Muncie, Ft. Wayne and Saginaw?

Why?
WHY?

Why stand before the shadowy dark
clump of humanity and sing to the red and green exit signs?
The only points of reference in the dark chasm of audience land
and regurgitate memories of pain
only to have cell phones, cellophane wrapped candies,
sneezes, snorts, coughs and even snores ruin the moment

Why?
why?

To walk the cobblestones of Montreuil-sur-Mer
past nobble-men and whores
to taste the briny air
of change and revolution

Adorn a broad billed cowboy hat
with polished six gun on your hip
and sing the sunrise of an Oklahoma morn

To know the eyes of Judas
lost confused and frightened
yet filled with love
A love that will so soon betray

To dance and move with practiced precision
where all the world will join along
with kicks and leaps and joyful laughs and shouts

To be an awesome ass kicking fighter
Master swordsman
and expert shot

To kiss beautiful, vibrant women and fall in love 8 times a week

To release the pent up angst within and shape it into art

To sing
To sing
TO SING

To be lost in the world of make believe

To make thousands laugh
and thousands cry

To hold a dying girl in your arms
and know that she
and only she's your true love for all time
To see her tears
and feel her fragile breath slip away
like water through fingers

All of these
and more
and more
but mostly just because

It's who I am
It's what I do