tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31109946314730505852024-03-19T18:17:42.531-05:00Culture Medium for a Medium Culturethe rantings of an opinionated, sleep-deprived, aging punk-rock improviser.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.comBlogger406125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-27604718156369390772012-07-24T10:26:00.001-05:002012-07-24T10:26:32.875-05:00Into the blue again - after the money's gone<a href="https://plus.google.com/103066405615033368400/posts/eGKsJgKGGrV">Trying to centralize my online efforts a bit - most of my thoughts go here nowadays and most everything is public. So I'll give this a shot.<br />
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Looked at some aggregators and there are some good ones, but I really spend far too much time just working in Chrome to make an outside app worthwhile - which is also where awesome programs like Sparrow lose out, even though they kick ass at what they do it just doesn't make sense to run email outside of the browser when the browser has all the functionality and I'm working in it constantly.<br />
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So there you go - hopefully I have this setup correctly and you won't have to see the barrage of "this is a test" posts in the meantime. But, just in case, bear with me.</a>Five Man Jobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580561773334716140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-72840441886151917352012-05-03T16:53:00.000-05:002012-05-03T16:53:31.391-05:00I get nervous at parties but I'm like bedrock at hospitalsWhen I look back at most of my oldest son's life, I think what he really learned from me is how to fight. Not physically, mind you. I've never been one for physical violence. But combat with everything around you as a way of moving through the world.<br />
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I know that it was all well intentioned at every step and seemed right at the time.</div>
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I fought hard to be there for him like I should and tried and make sure he didn't suffer or go without just because I was a stupid teenager that had him earlier in life than I should have. </div>
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I had to fight with people that had certain assumptions about the irresponsible kid in front of them so I could finish school like I should.</div>
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I know that I fought with his mother time and time and time again in an effort to protect him from all the damage she was actively or thoughtlessly trying to do to him.</div>
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But in the end, when I think about what he's seen most from his dad - it's fighting.</div>
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Fighting to finish school. Fighting people. Fighting his mother. Fighting with him.</div>
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I don't think it matters so much what the intent was or what the end result is - he saw the man that raised him being combative constantly - and I think as a result of it all, that is the thing he is most equipped to do in this world when he doesn't know what else to do.</div>
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These are the things that take work over the last several years - to stop fighting everything and stop letting that define who and what I am. Hopefully Anthony can see his dad working hard and the twins will see their dad fighting to just be a good dad.</div>Five Man Jobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580561773334716140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-6930115041091867982012-04-05T15:23:00.000-05:002012-04-05T15:24:35.878-05:00I saw your reflection in the bell of my horn<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">[cross posting some of my bigger posts on G+ here, even though G+ is my primary outlet these days]</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Things I learned as a tech that are important or I still use today in running a space, or just when I'm in the booth or building a space to be as flexible as possible. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Many of them took a long time to learn, even when someone was trying to teach them to me.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">1 a) If you are doing your job right, nobody in the audience will ever know that you're in the room - you need to accept that you aren't going to get applause for your work, no matter how good it is. In fact, the better your work is the less people will notice it. Get used to that idea.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I have seen plenty of people that get into the booth that know this and repeat it back to me but their instincts are all very 'look at the tech!' because they haven't actually grasped it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">1 b) You are performing for a different audience. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Your audience is the people on the stage. They will notice that you take care of them. They notice the smart moves and the good instincts. They don't have time to applaud for you because they're busy doing a show - Perform for your audience, not theirs.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">2) Don't talk about how much/hard/late you work.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I know it's always been there but I blame Anthony Bordain for the rise in popularity of the "you'll never know how hard we work" attitude that also sounds a lot like "notice how much you never notice us. pay attention to how much attention we don't need from you" - Stop it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Your work is behind the scenes for a reason, keep it there.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">You wouldn't want to go to a magic show and have the guy that built the illusions sit next to you and explain how they were made and how hard it was or how late they were there the night before getting ready for the show. The performers don't need to hear it, the audience doesn't want to know or care.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Your work makes the fun possible.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Explaining your work makes the fun go away.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">3) Your work can have a massive impact on the personality of the show or the space and how easy they are to enjoy. That is your job. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Make things easy to enjoy.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">4) Beat the paths, then lay the sidewalks - how you intend for things to be used means nothing at all in terms of how they will be used.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Pay attention to how the space really flows and gets used and help make that work really well - You can't fight it, don't spend all your time trying to redirect people into systems you think should work. Let it go.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">5) Gestures mean something - When we came out of tech week the theater had to be put back into show condition before the cast arrived for preview. And that was a big deal, even if the cast never noticed it. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">It meant something to us to make sure the cast walked into a theater that day, not into a construction site, because they were going on stage that night.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">6) Re-use everything. Absolutely everything - Money is a replacement for having to do things yourself, but a poor one.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">7) Find something you love to do, that gives you energy or a chance to relax, and keep it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I mop the floors, it's a ritual. It gives me time to think, to take a look at the little corners of the space and notice things that might otherwise get lost in the blur. It also reminds me that I'm taking care of the space, not the other way around. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Volunteers ask if they can help clean and maintain the space all the time, that's the one thing I won't give up and people understand that it's mine, even if they don't know why.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">8) Character is what you are when no one is looking.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">You get to be laid back and casual when you're showing up on time and nobody needs to check on you or wonder about the quality of your work because you're kicking ass like a professional - and not a moment sooner.</span>Five Man Jobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580561773334716140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-34609660904689070972012-03-27T13:27:00.000-05:002012-03-27T13:27:23.934-05:00As the pieces come together, there's these things that I keep hearing about the hero that you are when no one's watchingSo this has been eating at me for a while now and I need to put it out there so the truth is circulating as well as the theories and the bullshit. Everything you read here comes from me. This is Butch, not HUGE. HUGE is a happy place that overflows with positivity, but Butch is furious and has to address this - I hope you understand.<br />
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We fired Cody - I had to do it but WE had to fire him, take his keys and eventually ban him from the building entirely. He will never be allowed inside our theater ever again.<br />
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It began as simple customer service problems because of his rampant exaggeration, which started as just being overly dramatic about every tiny thing and quickly turned into outright lying and just fabricating whole events, some of which were important to theater operations - like just making up "fights" with customers or people that were "pissed off and drunk" that he always managed to talk down or fend off in his stories.<br />
That was irritating and got to be worrisome but we chalked some of it up to immaturity and some to just trying to impress people.<br />
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We also had to do it because he was putting the theater at risk by:<br />
- not carding people (read: pretty girls) at the bar<br />
- giving away free beer to people (read: any performers he wanted to like him and random pretty girls) to the tune of dozens or more drinks in a single shift, despite being told directly by Board members that it was not allowed under ANY circumstances. He claimed to be buying drinks for people, which I will get to in a moment, but even when told directly to stop he gave away at least 12 drinks not an hour later.<br />
- Drinking (sometimes heavily) while working, when confronted he began hiding it better but was drunk by the end of his shift more than once<br />
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Once we started trying to address his behavior and talking to people that worked with him we started getting bits of information that we hadn't before - little things that nobody thinks to mention because they're seemingly normal until you put them together with other seemingly normal and completely contradictory stories.<br />
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Then we realized that he had been stealing from the theater by:<br />
- Stealing the drinks he was sneaking during his shift<br />
- Skimming from the bar when bar tending - he would "buy" drinks for people that totalled more than what any other bartender at HUGE makes in tips during a shift and still walk out with more cash in "tips" than any other bartender we have here makes.<br />
- Sneaking back into the building after the staff was gone - either claiming he was staying to clean (but would then text me saying he was tired and would clean up the next day) or coming back to the theater drunk after going to the bar or a party, letting himself into the beer room where he stole alcohol and drank alone in the theater after hours.<br />
- Stealing out of people's lockers<br />
- Stealing cash out of the safe at least once<br />
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He wasn't working any other job and claimed to pawn things when he had money, but when stories came together it was obvious that he had even skimmed money from the theater to "donate" back to the theater to get his name on a plaque. Yes. That's some low shit.<br />
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So - why am I posting all this?<br />
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I've listened to all kinds of reasons why I am "not supposed to" or how I need to "be the bigger person" or how this is "nobody's business" and it would be unprofessional to make this public. It all sounds like the Winklevoss dude from the Social Network, going on about some social code and how things "just aren't DONE" while getting soundly fucked over and just taking it and thinking he's holding the moral high ground - which always makes me ask myself why the hell I would ever do something that stupid.<br />
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The problem is, shit like this continues to happen in the absence of someone saying something - that is precisely what allows someone to float from person to person, or group to group and claim one lie after another. While I know it's not my (or HUGE's) job to put a stop to some mentally ill kid's endless parade of bullshit - I feel I do have a responsibility to the people that he continues to interact with.<br />
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I know that if we say nothing and keep it to ourselves and only tell people something neutral, that allows him to keep trying to deceive our people - and I feel bad enough that we made our people put up with his behavior for so long because I thought he was just a misguided but dedicated kid - I hate sitting here quietly holding onto information that people should have out of some antiquated and misplaced notion of how I should not air dirty laundry in public.<br />
I have always been open about every part of what I do here, why do I have to suddenly be less open and honest because someone else is a compulsive liar? I cannot accept that.<br />
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And it's not like I didn't try it the other way - after we let him go and took his keys, but before we had found out the extent of what had been happening - he was allowed to come see shows at HUGE like any member of the public - and it was just more and more lying to people here to try and stay in their confidence - People that I wanted very much to protect from having to put up with it anymore by letting him go. <br />
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He was told that our statement on the matter would be neutral, and it was. <br />
We simply said that he was <i>no longer volunteering for HUGE</i>. <br />
He came in with stories of how he just needed time off and decided to give his keys back. When confronted by people that knew the truth, it turned into a lie about being caught using drugs in the theater - because if he couldn't appear innocent, he had to try and appear hardcore or something - and even sent me messages complaining that I had put him in an awkward position because what I told people didn't match what he was telling people.<br />
I told him to try telling the truth. He is unable to hear advice like that.<br />
His prime concern was and still is finding out how much people know so he can continue doing the same shit. It continues to snowball because nobody thinks to ask about things and someone like me - in the unlucky position of having to be in the middle of a lot of his lies and knows the truth - isn't "supposed to" say anything and doesn't.<br />
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The good news is, once we acknowledged that something wrong was happening, people started taking notice and asking about things that just didn't seem right - and the more that happened the more we found out. I want very much to be done with this and put it behind me, but I keep finding out more and more shit he was pulling here and I can't stand it.<br />
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People still continue to check with me about his lies - because he's telling people some outlandish shit - and lies upon lies have started to turn up about even the simplest things about himself.<br />
People come ask me if he's bullshitting them because he said that he works for some anime company, that he's in a TV series, that he's playing the main room at First Ave, that he got invited to do stand-up, that someone flew him out to Las Vegas, that he's moving away - and they end up finding out that he lied to them about who he is and where he was from and they never thought to check stuff like that<br />
BECAUSE WHY WOULD YOU?!?<br />
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That is why all this is being posted here - if you know the kid and have contact with him, you should know there's a reason to mistrust absolutely everything you hear. Everything. Not just the big stuff that sounds too crazy to be real. Everything.<br />
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I hope he stops, because I don't want him doing this to anyone else.<br />
People keep asking me if I'm worried about him and saying they hope he gets better.<br />
I can honestly say I don't care.<br />
I care about this place and our people and he is no longer one of our people. <br />
That is his doing but I had to do this part.<br />
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He came into this place under the guise of helping out and we thanked him while he fucked us over. He was (and most likely still is) stealing from people that have given us everything. I am aware that what we have here at HUGE and what I am able to do with my life has been given to me by those people. I appreciate it, and the people that make it happen, every single day - And he stole from them. <br />
There's no end to how angry that makes me.<br />
So I'm trying to put a stop to it.<br />
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<br />Five Man Jobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580561773334716140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-24209108179052016982012-02-16T14:44:00.000-06:002012-02-16T14:44:25.741-06:00You gotta dance with who you came to dance withI'm admitting some kind of defeat here - I keep feeling that pull of Blogger's guilt but I'm posting everything on G+ these days and I don't know what I would post here that I wouldn't just post there.<br />
I think the readership is probably a little higher but the discussions are certainly more active.<br />
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I may yet still post here if there are bigger missives that need a home but please read my posts at your leisure over here : <a href="http://goo.gl/bBn3x">Butch's G+ Profile Page</a><br />
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The vast majority of my posts are public so it should be a million times more active than this lonely place where words go to die. If you're a G+ user feel free to Circle me, comment, etc.<br />
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<br />Five Man Jobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580561773334716140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-91787245256696150142011-11-16T09:32:00.001-06:002011-11-16T19:45:33.053-06:00I said I must be fine because my heart's still beatingI wanted to try and actually capture some of this while it was happening - if nothing else, this blog can serve as One Man's Descent Into Madness as things get less and less coherent over the hours....<br />
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Tuesday night was an absolute blast - it was strange, as it didn't feel like a marathon yet and most of the evening was over perfectly normal improv hours, it wasn't until Mustache Rangers had the punchiest set I have ever seen them do that it really started to sink in.<br />
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The Minneapples arrived at 8am for their set, thanks to the generous donations of everyone Tuesday night - they were unanimously voted for by those in attendance so we got to see the "before" and "after" of a Minneapples sleepover. It was STRANGE.<br />
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Then into a bat with Batarang - better to sit in the dark in the morning when everyone is having coffee than in the middle of the night when eyelids get heavy.<br />
Miss Coco Belle did her pageant-improv set, in case your morning wasn't uncomfortably weird enough yet and now Bunnies In A Cup are absolutely killing a musical form at 9:30am. All of this just goes to show what it is I love about this place and this art - it is stranger than you could ever predict, the performers are some of the most quietly talented people I have ever met and the performances are far more funny and beautiful than you could possibly prepare yourself for.<br />
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Wednesday mid-day has been unusual - on a normal night it can feel awkward for everyone involved when you perform for 2 or 3 people in the house, during the Improv A Thon it's been remarkably fun and casual and never lacking energy. We know people have jobs and things they have to take care of on a Wednesday afternoon and we appreciate the Iron Audience Members that have been here watching all the madness we are churning out.<br />
Bree, Krefting and Sid - we love you guys.<br />
The numbers in the room have ebbed and flowed but things have never dragged.<br />
Time has ceased to have any meaning for a couple times when I was shocked to walk into the lobby and see daylight - when you're doing what you would normally do at 10pm, with people that you normally only see around 10pm it can be easy to forget that's actually 11 o clock in the morning!<br />
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I will end up posting a recap and thank you with the results on the HUGE blog, since it's official business and all, but there is a personal side as well - with personal thanks in order.<br />
Tane Danger came up with this idea and as soon as he did it made so much sense. He was absolutely right on about the vibe of the event and the whole day and I'm glad he saw what we should be doing well in advance instead of us waiting until too close to the day and suddenly saying "y'know what we SHOULD do?!?" - what little planning and organizing time we had was because he put us in motion early.<br />
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Molly Chase is amazing. Any time I say "planning" or "organizing" you can assume I mean Molly Chase. She's our Managing Director out of the goodness of her heart and the extra time and work she has put into this in addition to putting HUGE Theater on track is truly stunning.<br />
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I just came off stage for the .... seventh time today and there are only 5 hours and some change left to go before I get to wearily try and express my deep, deep gratitude to everyone that make HUGE a place where things like this happen.<br />
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On top of all the other amazing things I have gotten to see and be part of today, Ferrari McSpeedy is on our stage and Splendid Things is up next. Find me a better line up and I will tell you that you are mistaken.<br />
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I am the luckiest idiot there is.<br />
<br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-77534336359466915352011-11-16T00:42:00.001-06:002011-11-16T00:48:19.554-06:00We've got a long way to go but we'll get there.Give To The Max Day Blog<br />
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I hate asking for money. We all do.<br />
We would all rather focus on the fun and the laughs and the shows.<br />
Nobody wants to be the person to interrupt all the fun with the plea to give, but we have to.<br />
The good news is that anything you give today has a chance to go a lot further - GiveMN is awarding prizes up to $10,000 to the non-profit that brings in the most donations, plus hourly drawings for "golden tickets" that give an extra $1000 to the cause of your choosing - plus a special $10,000 Grand Golden Ticket just before Midnight.<br />
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Plus, HUGE is giving prizes to the group that raises the most money to help them go to improv festivals elsewhere in the country. Help them. Help HUGE. Help HUGE help them. <br />
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<a href="http://givemn.razoo.com/team/Improvathon" target="_blank">Go here - pick your favorite group and give.</a><br />
<a href="http://givemn.razoo.com/team/Improvathon">http://givemn.razoo.com/team/Improvathon</a><br />
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While you're there, become a Member of HUGE Theater and support us all year long - it counts towards out GTMD totals and gets you free tickets, discounted drinks and a ton of stuff. Maybe if we do well enough at this we can spend less time asking for money and more time just having fun.<br />
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And we have fun like nobody else.<br />
<br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-43601887443973824272011-11-01T10:43:00.001-05:002011-11-01T10:45:22.644-05:00As wicked as it may seem...as wicked as everything could beIt's been a while since I wrote about parenting - mostly because that's my wife's area of writing and because people that write about parenting so a non-parenting audience can understand just how hard it really is sound like assholes.<br />
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It should go without saying that we spend all our time and energy trying to ensure that our children have all the opportunities they can, are as happy as they can be and that we're teaching them as best we know how so they can succeed in any way we can prepare them for. <br />
But I'll say it - we do. Everything we do is the long process of moving our children from this safe, tiny little world at home and into the big, scary world outside in a way that helps them feel ready and helps us not spend every second they're outside the home in a state of white-knuckled terror, wondering if they are ok out there.<br />
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I think this is the core of why raising a child with autism is so difficult - they don't experience the world the same way we do, inside or outside. Not only that but they don't experience our teachings about the world in the same way we do, or that we mean them to. <br />
They experience the world in a fundamentally different way in almost every respect - I wanted to use the metaphor that it's like trying to prepare someone for something when you don't speak the same language but that doesn't do it since at least those two people experience whatever you're trying to prepare them for (the world) in the same manner and at least have that common experience to relate to.<br />
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The process of trying to imagine what the difference is like trying to illustrate one of those 4th dimensional shapes that computers can't even model and the human mind staggers at trying to even comprehend - My child's brain experiences things in such a way that is so fundamentally different that the way that my brain does that I can barely comprehend the differences, much less compensate for them. <br />
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A more fitting metaphor would be like trying to first invent a language to share with a person, knowing that you aren't looking at the same things - and you aren't ever going to get an accurate idea of what they are seeing - and having your new language first translated to one you don't understand, with different verbs and syntax, and then into their native language - so you can never be sure of the message you're sending or the condition it's in when it arrives. <br />
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This is hyper-dramatic. My little boy is actually very high-functioning and I am lucky in that way - he still experiences the world in a different way than I do not but the similarities are numerous enough that some people would never notice. But when I try to relate to what he's going through I have to accept that nothing I know may mean anything. I can see what happens around him and may have gone through the <b><i>exact</i></b> same scenario but I may never understand what he experienced in the same situation. <br />
I might always feel powerless to help, and THAT is the hard part.<br />
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If you're trying to help someone in a wheelchair, you build a ramp<br />
If you're trying to help someone that is deaf, you learn sign language<br />
If you're trying to help someone that has autism you may never be certain what the challenges are and even if you did, you may never understand what exactly your child needs to take them on.<br />
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But you can't <b>not</b> try. You don't ever stop trying to find what helps, but that will never make it easy and it will NEVER free you from worry. You will worry every day of your child's life, like every parent does with every child - except you won't have any examples of what has worked in the past that you can apply directly to your child so you can tell yourself that you taught them what they needed in the way that works best. You can never know that, you can never relax, you can never be sure.<br />
And then you will worry that the things you try are making it worse, that your constant trying itself might be a problem, that your constant worry might be encroaching on your child's happiness, even that you might be part of the problem....and what you could do about that.<br />
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It's the uncertainty. It is hard. It is exhausting.<br />
<br />
If you gave any parent any given scenario about their child being in danger or needing help and asked them what they would do, they would probably stare at you like you were stupid. That isn't a question. There is never a decision-making process, you just DO what your child needs and you never even need to ask yourself if there's any other option. <br />
It's like the human interest stories they always trot out on Oprah or whatever - the parent that throws themselves over their kid in a tornado and takes a 2x4 through the spine. They didn't <i>decide</i> to do that, it was never up for decision. It was certain. Not to belittle the sacrifices any parent makes, but that is EASY.<br />
<br />
Imagine taking that parent (which is every parent) and put them in a room full of unlabeled buttons and switches and flashing lights and tell them that their child needs help...needs them to DO SOMETHING but nothing to indicate what that might be - you would see something truly hard to comprehend. Something truly heart-breaking to watch.<br />
<br />
Uncertainty. Stress. Fear of action. Fear of inaction. Second-guessing. Heartbreak. Sorrow. Self-Doubt. More fear. Anxiety. Crippling anxiety. You would see parents offer to trade anything, including themselves, just to know WHAT to do, so they could just do it. But that isn't an option. You will see them hate the world for being a place they need to protect their children from. You will see them hate themselves for failing to do so. But still...You must do SOMETHING. <br />
<br />
I try to keep reminding myself that we're doing something. That we're trying. That's all we can do. <br />
At least we can see our little boy and he can communicate with us, we can see when he's happy and when he is not and at least we can know when our actions move him in one direction or the other. <br />
We might not know what to do, but we have that. <br />
<br />
Many people raising kids with autism do not have even that, and my heart goes out to them.<br />
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<br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-27534491169525263082011-10-23T18:54:00.000-05:002011-10-23T18:59:12.747-05:00I know my cough sounds awful, some nights it hurts a bit to breathe. I'm glad it's just my body, I do my business on the Street.Post-Fest thoughts...finally.<br />
<br />
What? I know, I know. It's been a while, but here is my brain finally closing down the Nerd Parade for the year - maybe it was the fact that George and I had 2 weekends of shows in Wisconsin that made it feel like the season was still churning along in some ways, I don't know. I kept sitting down to write this but I kept feeling like I said the same thing last year or what I was saying wasn't able to capture what I meant, just saying "I have fun" doesn't cut it.<br />
<br />
[the Clown]<br />
I don't know what the fuck is wrong with that guy. And I certainly don't understand why people put up with him.<br />
I started doing this stupid character a few years back and it's been an...odd...trip. I came out of the puppet troupe to do it, and had some experience doing "clowning" in the puppets even though I have no formal training in either. I was used to being the opposite of myself in the Jester puppet and took a lot from that, because the Clown needs to be a lot of things I am not. It's strange what you'll find when you spend many, many hours and situations doing the opposite of what you're comfortable with - and the corrosive effects that has on your sense of boundaries and propriety.<br />
In real life I hate having my picture taken, I actually do try to maintain good manners and be thoughtful and I'm nowhere near as forward or as cocky as that fucking weirdo in the hat is - but I've gotten good at reacting the way he would when given the chance and it's fun to sit in the passenger seat in my mind and watch what happens in his wake.<br />
There are so many things I spend a lot of time dissecting about my street performing, or performing as the Clown in general, and there are still lots of things I don't know how I know but they just make sense. Like, breaking down the process of how the audience knows what to do and how we get on the same page. Consciously, I'm at a loss to explain it but if you put me in front of a crowd I can gather a pretty accurate sense of what the rules are, what I can bend and the games I can play - from there, it's just pushing the game until it breaks. And then seeing what games we can make out of the pieces. And so on.<br />
<br />
[Kids]<br />
I love working with kids - kids are awesome. Kids know the game, they get the rules and they don't sweat the rest.<br />
I do struggle with the idea that I imagine people like Twig have to deal with in a much more extreme way, that children come out there with such high expectations of me and the weird emotions that go with that - I don't want to let down some kid that spent the whole day looking for me but I also have to eat, make it to shows, breathe every so often, make it to more shows, play with these other kids, etc.<br />
<br />
[George]<br />
I always want to avoid posting about individuals but I can't write about Festival and not about George. There's George and then there's everyone else as far as Festival goes.<br />
<br />
Twenty. Fucking. Years.<br />
We have been doing this in one form or another for the last TWO DECADES and I don't think it's ever gotten any less fun or any more rational.<br />
We both understand Festival, we both understand how the other understands Festival and we just love doing it together.<br />
We hit a point in one of our best shows this year where the silliness and sheer absurdity of it all just came crashing in - George looked at me with a moment of realization and said "THIS is what we do?!?" while laughing his ass off. We spend so much time in our shows laughing it's hard to believe we're also entertaining anyone else. I love our show and all the stupid things we do all day long.<br />
Yes. This is what we do. We have more fun than anyone should. We get to play as hard and fast and crazy as we can and know that it'll be ok because the other one will be able to handle it - not that we've gotten predictable to one another, far from it - if there's anyone out there that keeps me on my toes and keeps pushing me to be better, stay focused and never lose the fun that makes it all work instead of making it all feel like work - it's George.<br />
<br />
[Mark]<br />
Mark is a fucking awesome straight man. <br />
If you can't learn from watching him, you can't learn.<br />
<br />
[Everyone else]<br />
Thank you all.<br />
I may not understand why some of this works, I may not understand why you let me get away with any of it. But when I find myself destroyed on Monday morning, completely exhausted and unable to move, I know that am lucky as hell. Best. Job. Ever. I say it as a joke almost every day but I am aware of it and I appreciate it every single time.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-47898321317405483292011-10-20T19:31:00.001-05:002011-10-20T23:11:02.229-05:00The truth fades but the ink stains<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Owen is still having trouble in school - he had another really hard day on Tuesday (they had a short week this week) and I worry about him. We're moving on getting a specialist from the district in to observe him since the people at his school mean well but none of them are trained to handle it and they're essentially learning on the job with Owen.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />Part of his meltdowns I can totally relate to - and it hurts to think of him going through the same things I did and not be able to do something to help, or stop it or lessen it somehow. He has autism, yes, so he handles things in a different way and part of that I will never be able to relate to or fully understand. It's been joked about that I could have probably gotten a diagnosis somewhere on the spectrum myself, but back when I was his age it was just labelled as "tantrums" or "issues" - we've come a long way in the nomenclature, but it seems like we're still having the same trouble. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">While I don't claim that my experiences are the same as Owen's - I think part of Owen's experience is the same as mine. Maybe if I can relate to that part we can lessen the number of issues and give him less to deal with instead of wishing he was better at dealing with it all, over and over again.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Anyway.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I used to have episodes in 3rd grade as well, I can remember them so clearly. That's the weird thing. I would be hard pressed to tell you details about most of that year beyond maybe my teacher's name, but I can remember the episodes with such clarity. I had outbursts in class that totally freaked people out and had me permanently feeling like the "weird kid" as a result, the emotions around which followed me for years and years that totally guided my behavior to compensate.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">We had moved that year to a new school and I was included in the new gifted program - all kinds of things that will alienate a kid - I was totally textbook gifted kid as well, super concerned about finishing quickly and getting perfect scores...totally Aidan. But I never remember being competitive about it, I was in class with other kids that also went to the gifted class with me and I don't remember being upset about them doing better than me - but I was totally experiencing stress and anxiety over my perceived intelligence and the performance that was expected of me, which is something a 3rd grader isn't really equipped to handle emotionally.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">There were days where I would be in physical pain from worry. I had headaches, stomachaches, I got physically ill, all from constant stress. But my teachers didn't really respond to vague complaints from the weird new kid (which of course made my stress worse) so there were a few times that I ended up with my head on my desk in tears with my classmates staring at me. Which of course made it worse. The cycle gets worse and worse.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">There were times where I didn't honestly understand why or what was happening, eventually, but I would suddenly just break down. Usually it was in class where I felt all the pressure to just fit in and be normal. But I was so aware of all the social weight of my past outbursts pressing down on me, even if I had a normal day I was still embarrassed an alienated by what had happened before. Sometimes there was nothing I was reacting to except all the built-up feelings about all the outburst that came before - which made the next outburst seem so totally unmotivated...and therefore even more weird to the people around me. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">So the act of keeping it together became harder and harder and sometimes I would just find myself having what I didn't realize until much, much later in life were full-blown panic attacks. In third grade. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Third grade kids shouldn't have anxiety attacks. But I sure was. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Out of nowhere I would just become overwhelmed and paralyzed by emotion, and it panicked me because I didn't want to freak out in class (again), which made the emotions worse and suddenly I would be sitting there with tears coming out of my eyes for no reason at all. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Being the weird kid. Again.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">When we're old enough, we get to reinvent ourselves as people that have things figured out and we don't have to be that kid that had full blown panic attacks in elementary school anymore, at least that's what I did. It's no surprise that I was drawn toward an art form where I can act any way I want and not only am I not "weird" for it - it's an ability other people are astonished by.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">But that's the thing - there's no starting over with social stigma for kids in that little fishbowl that is school. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">When Owen has a breakdown at home we can get him through it and he's able to go on knowing that the way we feel about him has not changed at all and we don't see him any differently because of yesterday. With kids in school there isn't that clean slate where he can relax and try again, there's always the negative feelings dragging behind him from the last thing. If he starts out embarrassed or anxious, it might be because each thing isn't an isolated thing - it's the next thing. And I can tell you there's nothing more painfully embarrassing that trying to pull it together quietly, wishing everyone would stop staring at you and forget what just happened - it's a lonely place and it's a nearly impossible task.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I have a lunch date with Owen on Sunday and I am going to try and talk to him about all this so he knows his dad went through some of the same emotions that get him so elevated in school, too. To know that his meltdowns don't need to be his identity.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I want to encourage him to talk to his classmates about it as well, something that the school is already weird about - when he was sent home last time they wanted to make sure Owen had an answer about what happened in case the other kids asked - I want him to be able to address the fact that he has outbursts as a fact that he deals with, and be able to talk about them instead of quietly wondering if people have forgotten about the last weird thing he did and letting that worry drive him to the next one.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-33420498939301863812011-10-19T19:15:00.004-05:002011-10-19T19:15:55.489-05:00Listen as the tiny monsters hump the harlequinCrap Job Blog ::<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Today they came and quietly put a memo on everyone's desk saying there had been a large number of complaints lately of people hanging up on customers, and pointed out in the same paragraph that they record and track every call so they can easily tell who is hanging up on customers - their wording, they pointed out that they can easily do it.<br /><br />The next paragraph proceeded to take away everyone's email, web access, reading, homework and even TALKING TO YOUR COWORKERS unless you are on a break. We cannot have anything on our desks that isn't immediately related to the calls we are taking.<br /><br />So we literally were told that they know who the problems are coming from but they're going to punish everyone - and in between calls we are to do nothing but stare straight ahead at our screens. The girl across from me is a team lead and asked several times - "so we're just supposed to sit and do...NOTHING?" and was told yes, that is the case.<br /><br />We were also informed that if call quality gets above 97% (a level I am told it has never, ever hit before) then we can go back to "having items on our desks"<br /><br />I don't know about you but nothing makes me want to focus on doing a great job for someone like having them tell me that even though I'm already doing a great job, I'm being punished for someone else being a fuck up.</span>Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-1751824453869368832011-10-18T13:01:00.000-05:002011-10-18T13:01:01.351-05:00The irresistible force met the immovable object...Bike blog :: A bunch of random stuff<br />
<br />
[Gear]<br />
Still working it all out, figuring out what works and what does not. What I need, what I can spare and what I should not do anymore. Got some better lights, got some better under-layers, getting a better backpack so I can stop fighting with a 10 pound messenger bag trying to work its way under my arm while I'm trying to not crash speeding down a giant hill or working my ass off trying to climb one.<br />
<br />
Dug out an REI rain jacket we got for Anthony on one of his camping trips - I hadn't even considered using it before and it turns out it's probably the best designed jacket I've ever worn. Not only is it waterproof, windproof, lightweight and full of pockets, zippers and cords right where I need them - it's probably warmer than some of my winter coats when it's all closed up. Score.<br />
<br />
[The route]<br />
I was using the iPhone to track my ride, or my iPod timer to track my time and I think I'm going to quit that. If I arrive where I'm going on time, then I made my ride in good time. But tracking my ride had caused me to adjust my route a few times and I've been happy going back to the first one I had.<br />
The fastest route I found was straight up our street to Lyndale and then straight up that to HUGE - which is BORING AS HELL. Plus I think the fact that the majority of the hills and hard parts of the ride were still in the same city where I started made it feel endless and I would dread it. Whereas I can head south on Xerxes and, after a gauntlet of senior citizens around Southdale, be in Edina and then into Minneapolis.<br />
Not only does it get me to some more bike-friendly streets faster, it feels like I'm making progress going from one area to the next, as opposed to just grinding it out in Bloomington on streets I am all too familiar with and then finally hitting Minneapolis for the last 8-10 minutes of the ride.<br />
<br />
[Trying not to become one of THOSE assholes]<br />
I have had so few good experiences dealing with hardcore bikers - from people that feel the need to tell me that I don't need a car based on the fact that they don't need a car, the pricks that I encounter when driving to the complete and total assholes that seem to make up the Critical Mass rides...and yes, that's from direct experience with some of them, person-to-person. I don't dislike the organization or the idea behind it. But man...if you're looking for a horrible public face to put on a cause, they would be a great example. Anyhow.<br />
I drive and I bike - I have been trying to bike more because it's better for me, I save money and I am enjoying it. I also drive because I have a family, job and things that sometimes require a vehicle. When I bike I try to keep in mind the things I experience as a driver and vice versa - and I think it would be good for everyone that bikes regularly to be required to get behind the wheel every so often. It would make them better cyclists and hopefully make some of them realize when they're being pricks.<br />
<br />
Just a couple examples - I mean you, girl in all black with no lights on riding at 1am that screamed at me when I was pulling out into traffic. I wasn't ignoring you because I'm an asshole that thinks he owns the road and has no respect for bikes. You were invisible. And a fucking idiot.<br />
And you, biker that was weaving back and forth across the center lane traffic, pedaling at a leisurely pace to piss off drivers and then getting pissed and giving them the finger if they dared lay on the horn at you while you were riding next to - but never inside of - the bike lane. <br />
I know cyclists that lobby for that stuff, work to get it put in place so they can be safe and have their space on the road. You're not helping them. In fact, you're working against them. And being an asshole on top of it. <br />
And finally - the guy on Lake street at during rush hour. I was two cars behind you for over a mile, all the cars around you were being respectful, sharing the road and there were no problems. Until you stopped at a green light. Then people got on their horns, which made instantly turn around, give them the finger and yell something about "having the right to be on the road" - which wasn't the issue at all. You. stopped. at. a. green. light.<br />
Drivers were using the only tool a car has to tell you to do something differently. Not every horn means "get off the road" and sometimes you're at fault, moron. Consider it before you get into your self-righteous stance with your middle finger out.<br />
<br />
Assholes: Stop it. You're not helping anyone. You are behaving like entitled brats that can't handle the responsibility of being on the road.<br />
<br />
Not everyone in a car is anti-biker. Some of them are bikers and really fucking aware and courteous drivers that are sick of being lumped in with you when they're on their bikes and yelled at by you when they're behind the wheel. <br />
I try to be a courteous biker, as a result. I see drivers doing some of the same things I do when I navigate around bikes and I try to react accordingly and be aware of what they can/can't see, how much room they need, maybe even smile and wave when someone scoots over to give me room at a light or is aware enough to wave me through when they're turning so I know they see me.<br />
We can all share better. When someone is doing it poorly shouldn't be the only time you communicate with the people you're sharing the road with.<br />
<br />
[Driving]<br />
I have crossed that weird threshold with exercise where I get antsy when I can't do it - so now when I end up having to drive on a day I could bike it bums me out. That's a good thing, I suppose. I still haven't reached the point where I can make it through a ride on a cold, windy morning without thinking I should just pull over, call my wife and have her come pick me up. I haven't done it yet, but it's been close a couple times.<br />
Trying to balance the things I need to do that require a car with wanting to bike every time I'm not going to Plymouth to work has kind of sucked and is getting in the way of some things. I would really like to get some sheets of masonite and some 5 gallon buckets of paint for the theater but that falls into the category of "need a car" that the hardcore assholes swear doesn't exist.<br />
Still working on that one. Pretty happy with all the progress above, though.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-34608182299943068782011-09-19T12:12:00.002-05:002011-09-19T12:12:50.604-05:00This is the life, this is the Free nobody else gets.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I wish like hell George and I were the type of performers that thought ahead to have someone shoot video of our shows for our own use and review and things like that - sadly, we both enjoy the fleeting nature of what we do and the fact that you can't really hang onto the shows, even when it makes it difficult to explain the shows to other people that we might want to show it to or how badly we might want to learn from the really great moments.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Sunday we had a morning rain show - we love rain shows. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The audience may be smaller in number but they are 100% people that really want to be there and see what we're doing. The energy was high, we were having a blast and the timing was really flowing. It was the right balance of well executed show and making each other laugh and having fun while doing the well executed show. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I would gladly point to that show as us in top form.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The late show was the polar opposite - from the very beginning our "normal" routine was off the rails. not because of problems, but because we collectively made the decision to just take everything off the rails and find out what madness we could slam into. We screwed with each other WAY more than normal but managed to bring the audience along for the ride so everyone was in on the weird and could laugh at the mistakes.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">We do try to be aware that the audience is just as hot/sticky/wet/cold as we are and they also have other stuff to do and shows they want to see, so at one point we asked how long we had been going. Someone shouted "WE DON'T CARE" - which was the best thing we could have heard back at that point, which was already well over our normal show length.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">We ended up doing our longest show ever, afterward George and I were backstage laughing ourselves to tears over some of it, that's how much fun we have doing our show.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">At the end of days like that, I often feel strange about asking for money.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Instead I feel we owe the audience our gratitude and thanks and we should stand in the back and thank every single one of them for what they have given us - a chance to do what we do. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Every once and a while we really do it right and we wouldn't get there if not for people coming to see us be weird and stupid and funny on those days and all the other times leading up to those days.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I have the chance to stroll out onstage twice a day, fifteen days a year and have more fun than anyone else ever has. I am lucky as hell and I am sensible enough to know it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Thank you all for that</span>Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-58143404857483224542011-09-08T09:05:00.001-05:002011-09-08T09:06:41.837-05:00Through all this evil and wreckage, he maintained a sense of himself<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCrl-LnV_4wzFF7N0cpMCTylTUFqX7xHsr0M7jimWkMgwIfQWgGl_w2C_BovxtifMWzGHlHQSnFJDcFKEClGFnb0tjHQAbEx4f-BppRbf0fOn1Hopovf-PS7nnVqX4zj9maYYE62Y5QQh/s1600/abe_tattoos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCrl-LnV_4wzFF7N0cpMCTylTUFqX7xHsr0M7jimWkMgwIfQWgGl_w2C_BovxtifMWzGHlHQSnFJDcFKEClGFnb0tjHQAbEx4f-BppRbf0fOn1Hopovf-PS7nnVqX4zj9maYYE62Y5QQh/s320/abe_tattoos.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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I found the above photo while going through some things this year - specifically the photo books from when I used to give tattoos. It's the last known image of a good friend. After I snapped this he climbed into a car with some friends and I never saw him again.<br />
<br />
He wasn't the first person I knew that we lost, and he wasn't the last.<br />
But he was certainly one of the best. And not just for the way he died - I've tried over the years to not only remember him for that one thing - When I look back at the times we spent together, they were full of moments that define him in my mind and actually help make sense of why he's gone. <br />
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I was sitting next to him once when he got up and stepped in front of a gun when everyone else hit the floor. When other people (me included) yelled for somebody to "do something", he just did it. He was the person that didn't wait for someone else to save his ass. That's just who he was.<br />
<br />
I wish he wasn't gone.<br />
I miss him all the time. Especially this time of year.<br />
But I understand why he did what he did - he was just Abe<br />
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<br />Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-42333767060448916842011-09-06T11:25:00.004-05:002011-09-06T11:26:49.946-05:00Last one laughing, laughs the longest<br />
Back from the long weekend at the Nerd Parade - had some random fragments floating around in my brain.<br />
<br />
It's now the end of summer everywhere you look, now that the weather has cooled and the kids are heading back to school all over the place. <br />
This always leads to some kind of reflection on the season - usually on the Festival season for me. We're not even half done with the show but the holiday weekend is always the big hurdle to clear, as it pushes us about as far as we can go, squeezes out all the weird that it can and sends us all home completely wiped out. Mine was a blast....and yes, I'm sore, nursing a slight limp and trying to take it easy on the voice. But man, it was fun.<br />
<br />
My boys came out and performed with me on Saturday - that is always a giant treat for me and also something I worry about.<br />
I think my wife thinks that I hesitate to bring them because they'll intrude on my fun or something like that, but really I love having them there and watching how they react to this weird place where you can mess with strangers, sit down in the middle of the street and eat with your hands and strangers will come up and hand you money that it's ok to accept. They have a great time in front of the audience and are actually surprisingly adept at picking up on bits, remembering to face the audience and seem to be fairly natural performers - I couldn't be more proud - and this year they were old enough to get that we weren't at the Festival for fun and I didn't have to keep explaining that going to see shows and ride elephants wasn't the primary focus of the day. <br />
They were amazing all around.<br />
<br />
My hesitation to bring them out is more out of a sense of self-preservation.<br />
<br />
What I do out there is random, silly, ridiculous fun but it is also incredibly taxing and I usually don't have much, if anything, left at the end of the day.<br />
Asking if I can add in being a good dad, making sure they always know where I am in the crowd (and vice versa), keeping an eye on the kids' needs, making sure they are ok with everything that is going on and leaving some energy and attention for my boys at the end of the day is a tough one. <br />
I don't worry the kids wouldn't get taken care of - I worry that I would finally just clown myself right into the ground. But I do look forward to doing the show with them, it's a special dad-only thing and I'm glad they want to share it with me for now. As it happened, they clowned themselves to pieces on Saturday and spent the night in the tent in an exhausted but happy little coma and were more than ready to go home on Sunday when Mom appeared to bring them back to the world of normal kids.<br />
<br />
George's kids also went home on Sunday - the kids all need to rest up for school, after all<br />
That left us both suddenly free of the normal structure of checking in with/on children and both of us were pretty loopy and tired by Monday so the shows were pretty odd, even for us. But still, it was a blast. I don't want to make the long weekend sound like it's all torture, sometimes it's more laughs than anyone can comfortably take in one sitting. Sometimes there are moments of total inspiration, sometimes it's just plain amazing to see what people can do, even when they're pretty sure they don't have the energy to do anything more.<br />
<br />
I'm excited for the remaining weekends. <br />
Even though I dread the feeling of the Festival coming quickly to an end, I also know that if I'm doing what I do correctly I will be ready for it to be over when the final show comes to a close. I'm may be a little slow today, maybe more sore than normal and I might make some painful sounding pops and creaks when I stand up but I'm not ready to be done yet. <br />
<br />
This is just the break time to catch my breath, ice my injuries and collect my thoughts - see you in the dust.<br />
Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-90053543575331102102011-08-24T16:48:00.004-05:002011-08-24T17:15:50.682-05:00Shout out, breathe in. Won't you drown in the now.Poor Owen is having so much trouble at camp - they are saying he's "this close" to being removed from camp and he's already missed all of the activities where they make the stuff they're supposed to take home to show mom and dad. Sometimes it's a new activity that brings it out, sometimes it's a new group of people that aren't used to Owen that point out what we get used to around our house.
<br />
<br />They know he has autism - you can't just say "he needs to stop having autism and shape up if he wants to stay" and expect him to get better. But at the same time I agree with them, since their job is to run a camp where kids can go fishing, not to run a camp where one kid gets to stop everything and they have to focus on him while 31 other children don't get to do any fishing.
<br />But it stirs up a lot of conflicting emotions with mom and dad.
<br />
<br />I sat him down and had a talk with him yesterday after a tough day at camp and he was receptive, actually added ideas to the conversation and at the end I hugged him and told all I want is for him to be able to be happy.
<br />
<br />I'm sad over the idea that he won't get to do as many of the fun things other kids get to do because he lacks emotional regulation (that's his problem, btw, he's not a biter or a runner or anything) and gets upset and just doesn't know what to do with his feelings. Sometimes it's pure sadness that comes out in sobs, sometimes it's teeth-clenching anger and frustration that I watch him try and communicate through and it just breaks my heart.
<br />
<br />I totally don't think that gives him a pass to just act however he chooses (if "chooses" can even be used in this context) when he's upset - he still has to follow the rules if he's to learn how to navigate this world, and he won't learn them if he's not held to them.
<br />I really do believe that, if we coddled him and said he doesn't need to worry about that we would be dooming him to a life unprepared for anything outside our house - and every shocking encounter in the world would just tell him (and us) that he shouldn't ever venture out.
<br />
<br />Wanting him to learn those rules is part of it - and he has in the past and come a long, long way. Sometimes you'd never know he has social concerns. And sometimes he actually does respond to being told that he will miss out if he has fits - sometimes that means he clings tenaciously to his tempter through whatever activity it is through sheer willpower, sometimes he's shown an ability to shake it off and be fine as long as he is making a conscious effort not to get angry.
<br />But sometimes he just doesn't seem to be able to make changes he needs to, even when he knows it means he will be even unhappier in the end. He can know that all he wants (and he does, he's very logical) but that doesn't give him the ability any more than my knowing that if I can't dunk I can never be a basketball player will give me the ability to do it.
<br />
<br />Also, in not wanting to deprive him of all the experiences he should have, I've maybe erred on the side of putting him in situations he may or may not react well to. I don't know how much pushing is really good parenting and how much is fooling myself. He surprises me all the time by tackling things I would guess would be too much for him as well as getting stuck on things he can talk through but just can't do in practice - it's hard to know when to tell him to brush it off and try harder and when I'm just asking him to do something he'll never be able to do. I can't know and, sadly, the people that have to put up with the learning process are often not people that signed up for the job or are prepared for it in the least.
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<br />Just sending him out to inflict that on all the other kids that just want to have fun without him having an episode isn't good parenting at a certain point either, especially since one of those kids is Owen's twin brother. He gets plenty of his fun time spoiled by his brother and that's doubly sad - the idea that neither of them will get to have the fun I wish they could have, or that things will just be closed off to either or both of them is just so hard to accept.
<br />Plus Aidan is at home crying to us that kids "look at him weird" because his brother has fits all the time - that's just such an awful feeling for a little boy to be stuck with.
<br />
<br />He just wants to have normal fun and normal friends and do normal activities.
<br />They both just want that. But he can't. They can't. None of us can.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-70713687517698024822011-08-17T18:44:00.000-05:002011-08-17T18:45:12.382-05:00I feel a million miles away, I don't feel anything at allthe Nerd Parade begins ::
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<br />It is that time of year again - when suddenly the end of summer is in sight, everyone panics a little bit and runs outside to enjoy the last weeks of warm weather and the Renaissance Festival begins - meaning for the next 7 weeks I will be working during the days, performing several nights and then getting up astoundingly early to drag my nerdy ass out to Shakopee to act like a complete idiot until I almost die.
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<br />I am excited, as Festival is always one of the most fun times of the year - I love what I get to do in the streets as a clown and love even more the complete and total stupidity I get to be part of on stage twice a day. It's fun as hell and it is HARD. It is entertaining-as-grueling-endurance-challenge and that always makes for some really unexpected brilliant moments.
<br />
<br />I know for a fact I have said this before but I love that place as a performer - and I fully admit that it's a nerdy thing to do and isn't exactly something that actors put on their resume but the audience at that place L-O-V-E-S that show like no other audience loves anything. They drive across states to come to it, they slog through mud and rain to come see it, they plan their weddings and the most important parts of their lives around it.
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<br />As a performer that gets to work face to face with the audience (and most of my work is one-on-one, which is insane to think about) that is something amazing to be able to do and I can't think of any other performing experience like it. That's the part that gets me excited about the approaching season, and I really cannot wait for it.
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<br />This year has been a strange one, stranger than most years past, since HUGE has kept me busy and out of pre-Fest conversations and preparations and anything that feels like the run-up to Festival, so this season I feel more unprepared than most. That's saying something since I can never even remember or describe what it is I do until I get the costume on and I'm standing behind the front gate listening to the audience get excited to come in - and then it just clicks.
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<br />Instead of feeling like I need to figure out what the hell I usually do, this year just feels like a blank slate - I've got the costume and the character and now I just go fucking nuts. And I plan to. See me in a couple weeks when my body is falling apart and I am a broken shell of a human being and I will laugh and say it was still a great idea.
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<br />But for now, I'm just looking forward to Saturday morning.
<br />I will listen to "Swing Low", pretend that stretching out will do me any good and then hit that crowd like a bomb wearing clown makeup. Watch out.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-43751361125131458292011-08-05T20:04:00.004-05:002011-08-05T23:12:51.956-05:00Got a pocket full of memories, some happy and some are sad. Got a girl standing by my side through the good times and the bad...Is there anybody that still reads this thing?<br /><br />Google+ has, like Twitter and Facebook before it, stolen all my weird stray thoughts that would otherwise grow into a blog post of some kind. If that's what you're into, feel free to Circle Me or add me to a Circle or whatever the terminology is going to end up being. I have been posting a bunch of photos there from our PCH trip.<br />I'm actually a fan of Picasa because of the location-aware albums that allow you to see a plot on a map of where all the photos were taken, which makes me much more inclined to post photos to G+ already, never mind the growing dissatisfaction with Facebook.<br /><br />So we're on a PCH trip!<br />Many things aligned just right to make this trip happen - the Fringe Festival took over HUGE for the beginning of August, allowing a much needed break just in time for our TEN YEAR wedding anniversary. Combine that with our boys' edu-travel budget, my wife's travel planning obsession and you've got yourself a multi-state road trip with two small, hyperactive little boys speeding through the mountains!<br /><br />The trip is being blogged elsewhere, so I haven't been bothering to try. <br />I just post the photos I take to G+ for later geo-nerding.<br />But the whole anniversary thing tends to get overshadowed by the scope of the trip.<br /><br />That's right - ten years ago, on the god-awful hottest day of the entire year, I married my super-hot bride before she had a chance to come to her senses. I figured 6 years of dating was enough time to call her bluff, but she was surprisingly willing to stick to whatever bit she's doing because she's clearly always been way too good for me.<br />Now, on top of everything else she's done to make my life better every single day, she's decided to take me on a trip down the coast and allow me to stare at her when I'm not watching the road. <br /><br />She's awesome and wonderful in every way I can think of and I'm clearly the luckiest guy there is, ten years running.<br />If this is when she finally springs the punchline on me and leaves me in some one-stoplight town in the middle of nowhere - totally worth it.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-76768972490971081662011-07-12T15:20:00.001-05:002011-07-12T15:24:03.499-05:00If this is paradise...I wish I had a lawnmowerHere is an analogy for something I witness almost every year and it makes me feel like I am losing my mind to watch it play out, and play out it does, every single year.<br /><br />For the purposes of this analogy you are the owner of a nice, vintage car.<br />- Every year you are able to show the car and make some money with it, which you put in the bank.<br />- You don't maintain the car and over the years you see slightly less money coming in.<br />- You walk into the auto shop staffed with people that love this vintage car you own and have worked on it over the years with a list of improvements you would like made to your vintage auto so it will make money again.<br /><br />You tell your mechanic that some of the repairs you will pay him for, though not as much as any other customer would pay any other mechanic for the same work...and that he should provide all the parts. For the rest you were hoping he would "collaborate with you" by repairing your car for you and perhaps, down the road when the income you make with the car improves, you will see about getting some money for him. Maybe.<br /><br />Strangely - and this is where it gets fucking bonkers - several of the people at the shop leap at the "opportunity" to make this car beautiful, even while other people in the shop that have done so in the past warn them that they will not get the parts they need, payment they are promised or any sort of reward for their work. In fact, over the years you continue to make money showing this car, you do nothing but complain about the lousy quality of work you have gotten from these mechanics and have never delivered on the promise of better pay.<br /><br />You state that clearly, the people that have done this for you in the past are "toxic" and should be ignored and that this is really an invitation to participate in a dialogue and really make some changes for the better.<br /><br />Then you tell the volunteers that accepted your offer to have the car show-ready (and you expect top-quality, professional results) by mid-August and you will show up all season to complain about how much they seem to be sitting around and then again in early October to collect the money the car made and make awkward jokes about why nobody at this auto-shop likes you.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-14444026706648451032011-06-29T17:23:00.006-05:002011-06-29T18:38:55.463-05:00Where the Wild Things Are and the Pavement Ends...We say "Come What May" One Hundred Percent.Coming down and catching up blog ::<br /><br />I remember way back last year and the years before that when the staff of the Brave New Workshop handled a bazillion small details for the improv festival and that allowed me the free time to do things like blog daily during TCIF - well no more! The idea seems almost laughable now. Having time to just sit down and write during the fest?!? Psshaw.<br /><br />The improv festival happened at HUGE for the first time and I wanted to stop several times and document what was going on and my thoughts on it, but given that most of the days I didn't have time to stop and eat or speak in complete sentences, that just wasn't going to happen.<br /><br />The short version of the story is this: The improv festival happened and it was a fucking blast.<br />The longer version is always a mix of the same things - it's a blur, I'm incredibly excited, it's a blur, I stayed up way too late, the shows are so incredible it makes your brain hurt, everyone is leaving town and I barely got a chance to talk to anyone, the final show is upon us and then the space is suddenly...shockingly quiet and empty.<br /><br />This year has been scary in a lot of ways but this past weekend has been both the thing that we have been holding our breath for and the thing that I wondered if we were ready for.<br /><br />I had to wonder in the weeks leading up to the Festival what the impact of HUGE would be on the vibe of the weekend - since we now run shows all week long, every week, the TCIF is no longer the one big chance to catch all these groups in the same place. It's still a pretty crazy dose of improv and I had no worries that the quality of the shows would be top-notch but I wondered if we hadn't diluted or lost one of the things that made the Festival a big, special annual event.<br />Such is progress - as it turns out my worries were entirely unfounded.<br /><br />The comparison to previous years isn't apple-to-apples since we seat half as many people as the BNW did for us - but I think we were actually up in numbers and we had standing room only more often than we didn't. Even the 10pm Saturday show, which usually suffers as everyone migrates to the CC Club to get the party started, was packed to the walls and we had to turn people away - so it seems that we've managed to raise the level of enthusiasm for improv overall, which has always been the goal of the festival and the theater.<br /><br />Yes, there was one night I got home after sunrise. Yes I worked from early in the morning until late into the next morning most days. And yes, the shows were mind-alteringly great. I can breathe again.<br /><br />Every year before this one I came out of Festival weekend with a bi-polar level of determination to get the theater open and a crazy kind of anger that we hadn't been able to already - like witnessing TCIF was just proof that we needed to do what we did and irrefutable proof that it would kick ass to have this year round.<br /><br />This year I came out of the weekend tired, happy and just as fired up as ever.<br />Nobody has fun like we do. If you missed it, you missed out.<br />Lucky for you we do it every day now. Come see.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-49387721403168658912011-06-19T20:39:00.003-05:002011-06-19T20:57:17.362-05:00Up all night, trying to make it right...but as it demands we keep it movin' at the speed of lifeAnd the birthday death-march trudges to a halt ::<br /><br />June is always insane around our house. <br />First my lovely wife has a birthday, followed immediately by the twins' birthday(s) the next day and there's a little bit of breathing time before mine rolls around, which is usually in close proximity to Father's Day so I get a little extra in the middle of the month to send me out to face the oncoming Improv Festival with some momentum.<br /><br />So yes, today was/is my birthday and Father's Day - and it was wonderful. Solid wonderful.<br /><br />The wife got reservations to a kick ass restaurant for last night and I ate ridiculously good food - anchovy and avocado bruschetta, foie gras stuffed pasta and a big plate of meat to top it all off. I was allowed to sleep in and let the inevitably food-coma pass this morning and spent a nice brunch in Uptown with all three of my boys and my lovely wife for Father's Day. It was great.<br /><br />After that it was a day on the couch, playing the new Super Mario Bros on the Wii (that game is stupidly addictive) and snoozing occasionally. I love having a day where the answer to most of my requests and questions is "Whatever you want, today is your day" - I'm sure there's some fable or parable or something that illustrates how I would get sick of this or it would be less special or whatever if it happened every day but I am willing to risk it.<br /><br />Tomorrow the wife is back to her newfound jet-set working life and I will be running the kids to their respective summer camps and scurrying about getting ready for the aforementioned improv festival but today is nothing but tranquil. I know there's a bunch of loose ends and stress and problems and questions waiting for me when I go back to the real world tomorrow and the answer will almost never be "Whatever you want" but I still have a few hours left and I am going to enjoy them.<br /><br />I am one lucky dad/husband/clown and I am happy as hell.<br />See me tomorrow and I will still have the leftover silly grin to get me through the teeth-grinding stress.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-45401145185092032882011-05-31T16:48:00.003-05:002011-05-31T17:08:31.695-05:00I'm useless, but not for long...the future is comin' on...I have been to hell, and I spell it....DMV<br /><br />I went to the DMV to renew the tabs on the Beetle, which has been in storage for a long time.<br />The title still says our first address on it and my wife didn't change her name when we married, so when I went to the counter with the title of the car and my ID in my hand the woman just could not possibly imagine where to begin. I was informed that without the same address and same name 'there would just be no way' to prove that we were, in fact, married.<br /><br />I told her to run a search of my name and she would see multiple other vehicles registered together with my wife - as well as more than one home and the fact that we did indeed live at the same address.<br />"I can ask my supervisor...but I know what the answer is going to be"<br />So she wouldn't even look up the driver standing in front of her to see if she could find the information she claimed to need.<br />I told her we couldn't POSSIBLY be the first married couple not to have the same last name, that this couldn't be that hard.<br />"Well without the same last name there's just NO WAY to prove you're married..." was her defense.<br /><br />NO WAY? Really? No <span style="font-style:italic;">possible</span> way that a state employee, standing at a computer with access to the records of the State of MN could POSSIBLY find out if two people were married? If only marriages were licensed or registered with the State or governing body somehow....but HOW??? It truly was a problem that would baffle the most brilliant minds.<br /><br />After all that she was still completely unable - no, to be fair and honest she was completely unwilling to try - to help.<br />So instead I asked if there was a form my wife could fill out that would allow me to come pick up tabs for the car in her name.<br />I was handed a small piece of paper with a few lines of information on it that would indicate that I am allowed to do so - all of the information for which is on the vehicle title I was holding.<br /> <br />So there was nothing stopping me from filling it out in the parking lot and getting the tabs since I can sign my wife's name and they wouldn't have ANY way of proving I had done otherwise. I pointed this out. In return, she told me that it would be better for me to come back tomorrow, as waiting until June 1st meant I could buy 2012 stickers instead of buying 2011 and having to come right back and buy 2012.<br /><br />So, in the end, she didn't really care that there was no way to prove anything she said she needed proved - or that the system they had in place was as iron clad as a post-it note. She just didn't really feel like helping anyone right then, or maybe just didn't feel like helping me...and if telling me how to get out of paying for tabs for this year was enough to make me go away without being helped, she was totally fine with helping me do that.<br /><br />>> Unrelated Footnote - Conversation between me and one of the boys on this sunny, warm spring afternoon while I was typing the blog above:<br /><br />Owen: "There's nothing to do"<br />Me: "There's a LOT to do"<br />Owen "...I guess so."<br /><br />And off he went to go play<br />Either I am a Jedi or he wasn't really invested in that argument.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-55844167781378581392011-05-11T15:46:00.000-05:002011-05-13T15:39:56.241-05:00The frenzied pace of the mind inside the cellI hate that people insist that I must vote for the Left because I am "pro-higher taxes" or not interested in smaller government or against any other plank that the Right swears it is about. Or that because one party says it is "for" something like "smaller government" that means that the other party must be against it - that is just idiotic, binary thinking used to keep people arguing by focusing on what value the other party is (supposedly) trying to take away from you.<br /><br />I am simply (and vehemently) anti-political-party-ramming-religious-doctrine-down-my-throat. And always will be. <br />The Right has clearly banked on serving the whacko religious voters to win elections, which is why it will never have my vote. <br />That seems pretty clear and straightforward. <br />It is also incredibly clear (beyond the need to even argue the point) that The Right is doing precisely that - from Planned Parenthood to gay marriage, they have a clear agenda guided by religious doctrine that has nothing to do with jobs, national security, fiscal responsibility or anything else.<br /><br />Do not try and tell me that my voting against putting a cult in charge of the government is the same thing as wanting socialist redistribution of wealth or wanting higher taxes. <br /><br />It's not even close to apples-to-apples. <br />It's not even apples-to-oranges.<br />It's more like apples-to-guy wrapped in dynamite.<br /><br />Saying they are the same - or that being against one makes someone in favor of the other makes you look stupid and gullible. Please stop. Before I have to punch you in the neck.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-67442585230004767332011-04-29T09:01:00.001-05:002011-05-01T12:13:27.505-05:00They sang "Love is the Answer" and I think they're probably rightI finally just started (and finished) the book "Look Me In The Eye" and, as she always is, my wife was correct in saying the book would have a big impact on me - both because of Owen and my own quirks and experiences. And because it's a good book.<p>I think in some way I resisted reading the book because of the whole "and then when I found out as an adult I have Aspergers, so many things suddenly made sense" aspect of the story. <br />I think the trepidation came from how often, in dealing with Owen's diagnosis, I find myself thinking it all sounds alarmingly like my experiences being a weird kid - that and how annoyingly often I feel like I hear that same revelation from people that otherwise identify themselves as normal or typical.<p>I feel like it has almost become a new cliche to suddenly self-diagnose with "a little Aspergers" - I don't know if people just desperately like the idea of having something to make sense of their quirks or if it's a growing acceptance of the idea that nobody is entirely without the traits that Aspbergians find so heightened. I think it's comforting to be able to put a label on all the awkward moments we all must experience and move on. To be able to tell ourselves that we are essentially normal despite the pains of finding our place in a normal world.<p>I like the explanation that everyone exists on a spectrum - that there isn't a separate spectrum for those with a ASD diagnosis and one for everyone else - which is a point that often gets glossed over. We seem to be in a rush to say that there are many kinds of weird and only one kind of normal. Better to remind everyone that there really isn't a stable norm since it's evolving and changing all the time and everyone experiences and contributes to it differently - the habits and tools you use to shape that experience for yourself and the people around you determines your place on the big spectrum, not which spectrum you are on.<br />We are all on THE spectrum. The entire spectrum of autism to Aspergers has a place on THE spectrum of people and there is even considerable overlap between the two in my mind - like the MC Esher drawings of the fish becoming birds and vice versa. There is no place where the fish end and the birds begin, they are mixed together to form a gradient.<p>All that aside, I actually did have some startled moments reading the book - especially the parts about his younger years and later workplace interactions - that made me think I could probably find myself on the part of the spectrum we consider to be a diagnosable rarity. Or maybe we just have similar personalities in some areas. I don't know.<br />His description of the social learning process was striking and familiar to me. Not consciously noting the difference between small people and animals, but the observation of what behaviors yield negative reactions and the determination to deduce "the answer" that will unlock the secrets everyone else seems to know.<p>Many of his brief descriptions of his emotional reactions to those situations struck me - I found some shockingly moving because they were almost precisely the same as mine and reminded me of the kinds of raw, lonely pain I still remember. The kind that you never forget. The kind I hope Owen never feels. But I know he sometimes will.<p> Many times I have been made acutely aware that I didn't know how to carry on (or end) a proper conversation, spoke way too fast about things nobody really cared about until someone shut me up, sometimes found myself shouting or speaking at a ludicrous volume without realizing it - and looking back, I get that familiar flash of "I can't fucking believe I was like that" embarrassment and anxiety at the most random of times.<p>Having those moments of learning more about social norms that suddenly, completely redefines past interactions and makes me realize that I was acting way out of the norm, but at the same time that IS how people have to learn social norms no matter what - they aren't something universal to human beings everywhere that we should instinctively know.<br />It's when someone proves impervious to learning that it becomes a problem - but I can't think of any other part of human development in which we get angry, upset or uncomfortable by the idea that someone doesn't know something. <br />In every other scenario you would simply explain, or at least accept the disconnect of information without getting emotional about it - but socialization is something we are expected to come in already knowing and the disconnect is often met with ridicule and rejection instead of instruction. We accept those things as the basic operating system and people that make us stop, think about it and explain it upset and frustrate us. Partly, I think, because they remind us of the times we were on the other side of the disconnect.<p>I think that is what makes it so painful sometimes for children: one moment they are doing what seems perfectly normal - for the sake of metaphor lets go with playing the game. A game whose rules you learn as you play and it seems like everyone else is already familiar with, and everyone is expected to play - and suddenly they are are off the game board with no idea why. <br />No idea if they were supposed to know something, if they are the only one that somehow missed what everyone else seems to know - even though there is never a clear explanation of the rules it seems the variant they found is not an acceptable permutation - and wondering if this means there is something wrong with them. All while trying to get back on the board to rejoin the game.<br />All of that is a scary and lonely enough process and carries enough of an emotional penalty without the reactions of the other players - which will almost always be negative and sometimes overtly cruel, even while they quietly worry that next time it will be them that accidentally steps out of bounds because they are also learning the rules along the way and may have found themselves off the board before and learned that this is the reaction they are supposed to have. <p>This too seems to be part of the game.<p>I love this book for the insight it gives and for putting out a marker along the game board that says something to the effect of "you are not the first or only one to feel lost or scared" - which is powerful by itself and takes a certain Aspergerian personality to achieve since everyone else is too busy trying to learn the rules.<p>As for Owen, it's tempting to try and shield him from the whole thing but that isn't possible or helpful. Better to try and teach him and everyone else what to expect, let him know what he will be experiencing and that he isn't the only one - so when inevitably finds himself off the board there can be a nice sign there waiting for him:<p>Welcome! You are out of bounds but not in the wrong.<br />All the people pointing, making faces and saying mean things (yes, ALL of them) have been here before - and people were not nice to them when they were. If you would like to be like them, lose one turn and rejoin the game.<br />If you would like to make the game more fun for everyone to play, be nice to the people you see out here. Move ahead 2 spaces and go have fun.<p>PS - you will probably be out here again.<p>- I trust he will make the right choice, he's on the more logical part of the spectrum and we need people like him to help us make the game better.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110994631473050585.post-60854423491813230292011-04-23T22:53:00.004-05:002011-04-23T23:17:01.831-05:00East of Eden but at least we're earning - Ice is melting and the trees are burningWhat a year a difference makes ::<br /><br />Somehow, in the blur of activity that seems to always be taking place, I let the anniversary of leaving my job sneak by.<br />April 16th of last year I was meeting friends and coworkers at Kieran's Irish Pub to celebrate my exit from non-stop travel to 4 and 5 star hotels, a reliable income, shitloads of frequent flier miles, the occasional brush with someone famous or insanely powerful, a ridiculous sushi intake and pretty rock-solid health insurance.<br />And I have never been happier.<br /><br />It's crazy that it doesn't even mark a year of working full time on HUGE - although that has been pretty much what I do with all my time - there was the TCIF to deal with in June, family travel to Washington DC and we didn't even sign the lease until August...THEN I started working full time on HUGE...in September.<br /><br />I'm still doing some freelance work for the company and still in touch with the people I worked with - I still have never seen a corporation with so many weird challenges and awesome people to work with, all the way up to the CEO. I don't miss the work but I'm still pretty good at it and it's nice to contribute at home once and awhile. <br /><br />on the HUGE side of things, I am on day 5 of not enough sleep, spending my days and late nights behind the buttons, running the lights and trying not to miss the cues - so really not much of a transition...only now I laugh all the time.Butch Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12012836459621562685noreply@blogger.com1