Posts Tagged ‘STRIPPER’

Kitten wherever are you…

That song is stuck in my head. Well, if you can call it a song… Whatever!


January 17, 2010

It was a dark and dreary night. The wind howled like the caged wolves. The moon glowed, lighting up the sky in an evil, desolate haze.

Okay, honestly, I remember little to nothing about this night. My tank was running on empty and I was too exhausted to hang onto the pronunciation of my own name.

Chatter about the final three practices until tech week swarmed around me. I leaned to the tall photographer to get a better understanding:

“Well, we basically rehearse every night next week until opening night on Friday (January 29). It’s really hectic, and then, after the opening weekend, it all stops.”

His last three words stuck with me:

It all stops, hmmm, interesting.

January 18, 2010

Her hands were clutched tight to the railing. If she were the Incredible Hulk, powder would be passing through her throbbing fingers, the remains of crushed steel. There seemed to be a slight twitch in her leg as power drills and electric saws failed to drown out the fear sketched on her face. Drawing near to her, whispering to a passing member of the construction team, I asked:

“Is she afraid of heights?”

Breezing by me, they responded:


I turned back to her, now oddly placing her feet, legs bowed, and resembling a cat on the defense, eight feet off the ground. The hairs on her head were beginning to separate from each other, reaching skyward. She, the fist pounder, warned with a shaky voice and darting eyes:

“Stop shaking it.”

A voice interrupted her quivering voice:

“Why are you up here?”

The fist pounder justified:

”If I get used to this, then that platform (six foot) won’t seem so high. It would help if you couldn’t see through the bottom.”

She looked down at the long fishnet metal sheets.

I stared on in amazement, she was willing to conquer her fears; and horror, she had scoffed at the playground.


Monkey Bars

Jungle Gym

Swing Set

Stripper Poles


A gloriously enormous human Lego Land stood before me as workers drilled, sweated and cut through it. A spiral staircase enticed me. The platforms, high above the stage, looked like floating metal clouds waiting for me to skip through them.

As I braided my body between mazes of poles, I promised myself that I would not get carried away. I would place my belongings down and admire the structure, take in its excitement from a distance.

That lasted all of the thirty seconds it took me to toss my bag in a chair and make it back on stage.

I dangled from a steel banister, hoisting my body out, hovering inches over the stage. Only my hands gripped the shaking bar as I tossed my feet into trapeze-like contortions. I took no notice to the wobbly structure and the even more unsteady banister I held on to. I thrust myself up, only to come face to face with my Season’s of Love partner:

“Um, Jeremy, that is not bolted in. It is only held in place by clamps. I just put the first bolt in right now and there are more to go.”

My mouth fell open. I laughed as I thought:

Wow, I just literally almost signed my release form to the emergency room.

I swatted the thought and continued to play.

I leaped, twisted, spun, flipped and soared from one beam to the next. There were enough poles for a synchronized stripper team. I wanted to be the strippers.

Not being one to harbor jealousy, I found myself looking towards the fist pounder and enving her character that would get to use the steel fortress as her own personal slave. I sang the words to her strip tease song all while thinking:

I would get into a monkey knife fight, just to perform that song on this structure once. KNIFE FIGHT!!!

I gave my thoughts life, speaking them to the fist pounder, and in a quivering voice, she replied:

“Go for it, I will gladly trade places with you.”

I looked at her and wished her fears away. As much as I wanted to do it, I more so wanted to see her shine through every steel beam that the light would illuminate. It was her stage and I was glad to admire her performance from a distance.

Throughout the beginning of rehearsal I took quick glances at her, watching her tremors turn into twitchy shakes and eventually giving way to a confident seductress.  I smiled:

No day but today. fist pounder, forget regret!

She was taming the beast and mastering the structure. I, on the other hand, was glad to see the friend I didn’t know I longed for.

Throughout the rehearsal journey, the main director continuously hinted at my friend (the structure, the monkey bars, the set). He spoke life into it, and brought it into existence. I desired to meet this friend, to play on it, simply, to just see it.

As the days passed and sets were torn down, only to have others rebuilt in its place, I waited for my friend. And each day a promise was given, like anticipating the arrival of Santa Clause, my friend escaped my path.

It was like the joys of recess without your best buddy to give you a push, pass you the ball or chase endlessly through the fields. Yes, you make it through, but there is still that emptiness you feel, knowing only he or she could bring you that extra measure of merriment.  So you go through the motions, hoping to see them the next day.

And that is how I felt as the weeks passed me by. I wanted my play buddy. I didn’t know what my buddy looked like, but the stories spoke of his pleasure:

”It is sturdy.”

“We have seen it and already played on it.

“It is going to have so many platforms to stand on.”

“It is awesome.”

“Oh, wait guys, another problem; the constructor hurt his Achilles so we have another delay.”

I wanted to jump out a window, eyes fully opened as I watched a nail plunge into my skull, by way of my cornea. It was painful to spend one more rehearsal, with there only being two weeks left until curtain call, to wait out another delay.

As I watched the Achilles constructor limp around the stage, ignoring his injury, I silently thanked him for easing my pain and baring it on his foot, which needed rest. I also thanked the people, who got the day off, who helped anchor my pal into the ground, the steel glow smiling at me inviting me in. And I was not the only one.

The tall photographer monkey-shimmed his way up two beams, about a foot apart. Cast members stood in awe as his long body made the eight foot trip. The music director did chin-ups:

“One, one and a half, two and one quarter… three.”

Double Rent threw his leg over a beam and thrusts his body from left to right. The mandarin traveler, tried to walk up a beam, his shoes not of the right quality, as he slipped down to the floor with a heavy clump.

Pretty soon each part of the nearly complete structure was swaying to party goers dancing on every surface, imitating their own renditions of strip teases, the mental music blared:

“Don’t stop, get it get it, let me see you doo-doo brown… What! …Get it! … What! … Hydraulics!”

We staged the more intricate scenes of the show, the ones that our big buddy could possibly hinder, it being in the way of transitions, and only one near mishap took place.

As we were discussing height issues, the taller platform blinding the theater goers of the performers faces, making it look as if shoulders, chests and legs dangled from the ceiling, my Seasons of Love partner made a suggestion:

“Perhaps, if we stand at the back of the structure…”

Her advice was overpowered by a shrill that escaped her throat. As she went to step back, forgetting she was on a two foot plate, the rest of the structure yet to be placed, her foot began to trample on air. The only thing that would catch her fall was a wooden stage, six feet below, which would have come secondary to a half constructed staircase toppled on its side.

Images of her head banging against the staircase clouded my mind causing me to react.

She clutched the railing and I clutched onto her. Without her, the season wouldn’t have felt as lovely.

As our playground was finally being put into place, I could see its effect warming the hearts of the cast. People who I had never seen interact were now embracing each other, staring wide eyed at the steel glow. Love, and making love, songs were being made about it, parodies of the play, and laughs were shared.

Whenever someone discovered a new trick our metal buddy could offer, others encouraged and gazed in awe. It was an atmosphere of expectancy.

My heart smiled and took me on flight.

I stole away and danced!



Get Your Tickets Soon… The Show Opens January 29, 2010

Box Office: 302-764-1172