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July 06, 2005

My 1,000th post on YesAnd

Thanks.

Most recently.
Thanks to Gnarf, Topping, Marna, and Dustin for bringing their audience to the San Fransico Improv Festival.

Thanks to Sam S. for rolling with the punches when things got crazy.

Thanks to Bryce for being kick ass on the lights, and making me laugh at the bar.

Thanks to Shaun L. for giving me a place to stay, keeping my mind loose, and my balls tight. Thanks Shaun for playing and supporting me when I needed it most.

Thanks to Hans, for putting up with yet another improv invader, and doing it with such class.

Thanks to Chuck, for being the best partner an improviser could ask for, no matter how close or how far.

Over the years since my first post, I have met many of you face to face. Thanks to all of you whom I've drank with, bitched with, smoked with, and hitched with.

Thanks to Jamey, for being my friend. I love you buddy.

Thanks to Shaun H., and Fuzzy, for being so swell to me, and for all the video, improv and life conversations we've had. You guys are the best.

Thanks to Joe & Jesse, for being awesome, humble, and friends. Hemi&buzz anytime, anyplace.

Thanks to those who have inspired me, who have yelled at me, who have dragged me through the bar, and got lost in the car with me.

Thanks to the admins who keep this site working so that I can travel across the country and still find the improv community.

Thanks to Asaf, for starting this site, for giving honest notes, and for being a damn good instructor.

Thanks guys, for all the good stuff, all the bullshit conversations, and all the silliness thats not always silly. I look forward to 1,000 more posts.

Your friend in improv,
Clifton Highfield

Posted by Clifton at 11:03 PM | Comments (2)

July 02, 2005

San Fran Fest Part 1 (raw version)

After five hours on the Greyhound, I have finally reached Dayton, Ohio. I have about an hour to kill here so I’ll write the simple stuff. I really feel bad for these employees. The Detroit station had nothing they need to do business. The electronic tickets weren’t printing, the schedule screen didn’t function, and the night shift left them without hand tickets and baggage tags. I can’t believe that station continues to function. In fact, I didn’t actually receive my ticket until arriving in Dayton. At least they let me get on the bus.

So far, everyone is pretty much leaving me alone to sleep. The cast of the first bus had everyone: the Amish family who seemed amused at the lack of functioning computers; the drunken guy who buys cigarettes for a dollar; the ultra friendly talker who knows more about politics than everyone else; the confused traveler who’s so big he could break me like a twig; the midget wife with her full sized baby; the surprisingly hot mother of four hyper-active children; the Mexican in a half body cast; the college fellow who is the only other person with an i-Pod; and the bus driver with a sense of humor.

Most of my conversations have been limited. “I’m going to San Francisco” which usually gets me a funny look, or “Excuse me sir/madam.” I have had multiple conversations with ultra friendly talker guy; he’s quite interested in the battery life of my i-Pod. I have also had multiple conversations with confused traveler; he’s on his way to Seattle, and we’ve worked together to solve the Detroit ticket mystery of ’05. Well, on to St. Louis.

Speaking of St. Louis, I have another layover there, and I think that the train station is in the same building as Ed Reggie’s theatre. I’m going to try to
catch him while I’m there.

The layover in St. Louis was short and not exactly in the area I had thought it would be. Apparently, Greyhound moved it’s station from downtown to the projects. There were announcements to leave the premises at your own risk, and it looked rough. Needless to say, I didn’t go and visit Ed Reggie. Got on the bus, ate trail mix, beef jerky, and slept until K.C. The ride kept on but was fuzzy until Sacramento.

Arrived in Sacramento! The home of Cake! Oakland is only 2 hours away, and San Francisco is only 1 hour later! I’m thrilled. Then things turned crazy. It’s hard to believe how quickly a totally uneventful trip can become wacky in a matter of seconds. My phone battery is getting low. I need to remind myself to breathe.

It started with bus #7114. The driver and baggage handler are helping a wheelchair bound woman off the bus. I waited for a break in the action and asked the driver if it was too early to re-board. Since there had been no reboarding announcement in the station, I had thought I was early. He said, “Wait a couple of minutes and then come back.” I walked inside, waited, watched, and wondered as he finished helping the handicapped woman off the bus. When she was clear, he got on the bus, closed the door and pulled away. I tried to catch him outside, but I couldn’t. SHIT! Ok. Breathe. Ok.

As I waited in line at the counter I figured I’d call Chuck, and let him know I’d be a little late into town. Chuck sounded sad when he answered; he sounded defeated. “Hey Ct. Chuckula, what’s up?” I asked

“Well, I’ve had the worst couple of travel days ever.” This is bad news, I thought, as he continued. “Read my blog and you’ll understand.”

“Where are you?” I asked

“I’m at the airport.” Then he explained the current situation. He was at the Cleveland airport, or Cinnci, and he booked a flight to San Fran on Hotwire. The flight was scheduled to arrive around 5pm which would be perfect to make it for call. Unfortunately, Chuck had inadvertently booked it to depart from Detroit. He wasn’t in Detroit. He wasn’t getting his money back from the non-refundable/non-transferable tickets. He was fucked. Breathe. Being stuck in Sacramento didn’t sound so bad anymore.

After getting the phone numbers from Chuck, because the info was in my baggage, and my baggage was in on the bus, I called Sam Shaw. I left a message. Then I called Shaun Landry, she picked up, and I told her the situation. We discussed it, and figured it would work fine if she was a Men in Shirt for at least tonight, and possible the whole run. She said she’d follow up with Sam to explain, and hangs up. The phone battery was almost dead by now, and I have some another small crisis to mend.

After explaining the situation to the Customer Service Rep at Greyhound, she gave me the number to the Oakland station. I called them and talked to Pat. “Why don’t you just call San Fran and have them take the bags there?” she asked.

“Because Oakland is the next stop and the stuff I’m worried about is under my seat.” I explain. “Anyone could just walk off with it at Oakland, and I’d prefer that doesn’t happen.”

“Please describe your bags, sir.” She was warming up to my situation.

I told her, “A green backpack, a green pillow, and a black cooler. I was sitting about five rows back on the driver’s side.”

“When will you be arriving here?” She asked.

“About 2:30pm.”

“Ok, I’ll still be here then, and I’ll get your bags off the bus.” Pat said.

As it turned out she didn’t get my bags, but at least she saw them. When I met Pat at 2:45, she told me I’d have to ask for the supervisor at the San Fran Station to get my bags. After, a short trip from Oakland to San Fran, I was finally reunited with my luggage. I took some finagling, my luggage tag was lost during the 2 ˝ day trip, but it was finished. I had my stuff back.

I followed the directions Shaun gave me, and walked through a slight sprinkle to her cross streets. I called her up from a payphone, and walked to my home for the next couple of days. After the tour, she poured me a drink. We talked about bullshit, travel, and life. We went over the show, and chilled out; it was fabulous.

There was a small but responsive crowd at the theatre. The show was fine, and space was nice. More audience would have been grand. The topic was Sex, and we went a little blue, but the show was fun. The weather was cold. Drink beer. Eat hotdog. Dream.

I woke up at noon, and we went to the water. It was a beautiful day. I took pictures of the Sea Lions, asked questions about the locale, and rode a trolley. I even got to see the floating jail, and the big bridge. It was tourist heaven. Vietnamese food. Wine. Sleep. Show.
The topic was sex again. It was different. We had a smaller crowd, and we had a little second show syndrome. No worries, we got through the set, and the last 3rd was the best. So we left on a good note. The audience seemed to like it, and they really liked The Kickerchast Project. So did I. Rock.

Beer. Karoake. Water. Antacids. Sex noises. Sleep.

Today is Saturday. Since my bus leaves at 1am, I’ll have to leave pretty much right after the show. I’ll probably be tipsy and tired by then, but I try to write. There is so much more: the arrests I saw, show details, and more sex, so stay tuned.

Yeah. I didn’t get to write after the show like I had hoped. So here is the recap from final show night on. Our last show was the first time we did not get the suggestion of sex. Although, I had considered just pimping the audience for the suggestion, I changed my mind at the last minute. So I asked for the usual and this time we got “Nose Hair”. Lovely. The monolouge’s were fun, and I immediately made mine about being “attractive to the ladies”. Of course, by the end, the show was about sex.

I began by playing a “hinter”, basically a passive aggressive fellow who is snooping around his girlfriends apartment to leave “hints” because he’s too much of a pussy to confront anyone. Shaun’s choice? Of course she won’t play my girlfriend, instead she decides to play my ex-wife. Brilliant. Now that’s cause for drama. That relationship was certainly the best we played all weekend. In the middle, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me, and by the end it turned out that the whole thing was just a big hint to my ex-wife. We ended up back together. It was great.

The kind of improv that we did in that final scene was theatre at its best. She looked at me and said, “why don’t we get back together”.

I grabbed her immediately and kissed her, then stopped and said, “You shaved your upper lip!” She grabbed my arm, and put it under her shirt (yes I got some nipple action woot!) and I said “You shaved your nipples!”

The short 3 or 4 lines were pure gold, but it was the space in between the dialogue that was so wonderful. As improvisers we always get so hung up on the dialogue, and we sometimes forget that the action is equally important. The whole show was wonderful.

Afterwards I layed on the floor with Shaun and listened to Khickercast. They did well also. I think that the 55 people in the audience were a big help.

Vack to Shaun’s house for some stir-fry, and drinks. She did me well. I stumbled to the bus station just in time to board, and passed out until Reno.

There were no missed buses in Sacramento this time. I didn’t muse at the Sierra Nevada’s as we drove through them. I slept against the window. I read Batman: Frank Miller Collection. I chomped carrots. Then there was the desert.

It must be tradition. People pull over, place rocks on the sand saying various phrases. Get fucked, Tyrone + David, I love Jill, were just some of at least a thousand that litter the desert. Some are so old the sand has deformed the message like a burnt out light bulb at an “ood Mart”. In the Great Salt Lake Desert salt crystals form over the rocks and make them shimmer in the sunlight. It really was beautiful. I even saw the Great Salt Lake, which was cool.

Still to come: people on the bus get arrested, nine coolers of ice, the convict who helped everyone, and many thanks to many folks!

Posted by Clifton at 08:55 PM | Comments (0)