Big in MO - or - The Whale
Other than a brief scuffle with the law, well, the police, and a tête-à-tête with a certain TV news personality, which turned me completely around, I mean full circle, by which I mean to every degree, there isn’t much to report today.
But I aim to please, so I will instead regale you with a tale from my misspent youth.
Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my man-purse, and nothing particular to interest me on TV, I thought I would try my luck in pursuit of the Great White Way. So I said my good-byes and set off to pursue fame and fortune on Broadway, okay, off-Broadway, okay, Branson, Missouri.
On account of the whole no money thing, I needed to hitchhike my way to destiny. Fortunately, I never had any trouble getting picked up in those days and soon found myself safely ensconced in the cab of a one-eyed trucker who called himself Captain Wigglesby and who offered to take me all the way. He was a kind man, an attentive man - very, very attentive. He kept offering me things to eat, some of which he picked from various places around the cab and some of which didn’t appear to exist anywhere but in his mind.
Pickle?
No thank you.
Banana?
Gave them up.
Sausage?
Very kind, but I’m not hungry right now.
We needed to stop at the Kansas side of Kansas City so the captain could drop his load. And as we crossed the border to the other side, I’ll confess that I gave out a little squeal, as this was my first time entering MO.
Once in Branson, I bid my adieu to Captain Wigglesby, who seemed genuinely sorry to let me go, and so I was forced to get him drunk and wait for him to pass out.
I knew exactly where I wanted to go, to the world famous Baldknobbers Theatre where since 1959, The Baldknobbers have been performing to audiences young and old that come from all over the United States to hear wonderful family entertainment. (Tickets available now!) The show’s director proved surprisingly receptive to my talents and he offered me a position on the spot! Unfortunately, I was not to actually be in the show but rather spent most of my time dusting the upper shelves and picking up objects from the floor in the director’s office. I was crushed, naturally. But I understood that everyone needs to start at the bottom.
Of course, unlike happiness, talent cannot be kept in a bottle. And so I resolved to demand my stage debut. I marched into the director’s office, prepared to give me the tongue lashing he deserved for holding me back so. But, as is want to happen, I wound up pleading my case, literally on my hands and knees. Still what matters is that I came out on top in the end and had my long sought after role.
I was to be Second Man From The Left in the Big Jamboree number. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And I rehearsed and rehearsed as if I had the lead.
The rest of the story is rather anti-climatic, I’m afraid. The night of my first show came, yadayada, I was nervous, yadayada, it went fine, yadayada. And then it was just… work. So I took my meager earnings, sold the precious family heirlooms that the director had mysteriously given to me after he just as inexplicably left his wife, and came home.
Of course, I never did give up the acting bug entirely. Some time later, never mind how long precisely, I made a low budget version of Moby Dick.
At the risk of being immodest, I had the lead.
But I aim to please, so I will instead regale you with a tale from my misspent youth.
Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my man-purse, and nothing particular to interest me on TV, I thought I would try my luck in pursuit of the Great White Way. So I said my good-byes and set off to pursue fame and fortune on Broadway, okay, off-Broadway, okay, Branson, Missouri.
On account of the whole no money thing, I needed to hitchhike my way to destiny. Fortunately, I never had any trouble getting picked up in those days and soon found myself safely ensconced in the cab of a one-eyed trucker who called himself Captain Wigglesby and who offered to take me all the way. He was a kind man, an attentive man - very, very attentive. He kept offering me things to eat, some of which he picked from various places around the cab and some of which didn’t appear to exist anywhere but in his mind.
Pickle?
No thank you.
Banana?
Gave them up.
Sausage?
Very kind, but I’m not hungry right now.
We needed to stop at the Kansas side of Kansas City so the captain could drop his load. And as we crossed the border to the other side, I’ll confess that I gave out a little squeal, as this was my first time entering MO.
Once in Branson, I bid my adieu to Captain Wigglesby, who seemed genuinely sorry to let me go, and so I was forced to get him drunk and wait for him to pass out.
I knew exactly where I wanted to go, to the world famous Baldknobbers Theatre where since 1959, The Baldknobbers have been performing to audiences young and old that come from all over the United States to hear wonderful family entertainment. (Tickets available now!) The show’s director proved surprisingly receptive to my talents and he offered me a position on the spot! Unfortunately, I was not to actually be in the show but rather spent most of my time dusting the upper shelves and picking up objects from the floor in the director’s office. I was crushed, naturally. But I understood that everyone needs to start at the bottom.
Of course, unlike happiness, talent cannot be kept in a bottle. And so I resolved to demand my stage debut. I marched into the director’s office, prepared to give me the tongue lashing he deserved for holding me back so. But, as is want to happen, I wound up pleading my case, literally on my hands and knees. Still what matters is that I came out on top in the end and had my long sought after role.
I was to be Second Man From The Left in the Big Jamboree number. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And I rehearsed and rehearsed as if I had the lead.
The rest of the story is rather anti-climatic, I’m afraid. The night of my first show came, yadayada, I was nervous, yadayada, it went fine, yadayada. And then it was just… work. So I took my meager earnings, sold the precious family heirlooms that the director had mysteriously given to me after he just as inexplicably left his wife, and came home.
Of course, I never did give up the acting bug entirely. Some time later, never mind how long precisely, I made a low budget version of Moby Dick.
At the risk of being immodest, I had the lead.
posted by Eric Houston at 11:51 PM
2 Comments:
Just stopping in to say hello and to congratulate you on your recent nomination at the BoB Weblog Awards 2004.
www.blogmechanics.com/bob
Hello, I do not agree with the previous commentator - not so simple
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