music – catheroominations

Whooaah Whoa…Listen to the Music

catheroo — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 03:15:14 +0000

I just got the new Brendan Benson album (if I can still call it that) and holy shenanigans it is AWESOME. I can’t stop listening to it and when I got home today, I popped it into the BOSE and immediately had to shed my tennies and socks and clothes – to change into shorts and a tank top – so I could dance all around the kitchen like a whirling dervish.

Just listen to Feel Like Taking You Home and tell me if you can sit still while it plays. (Just click the play button to start the track.)

And A Whole Lot Better

And Don’t Wanna Talk

If I had had this CD a month or two ago, I’d be at my goal weight from spinning around and jumping up and down so much.

A final curtain call

catheroo — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 06:54:21 +0000

This week I learned that American Musical Theatre of San Jose has closed its doors.

And I became terribly sad.

American Musical Theatre of San Jose (AMTSJ, or AMT, as I like to still call it) is the local professional theatre company here. I once ~~auditioned~~ interviewed for a job as the assistant to the Executive Producer. I heard about the position from a friend and was tired of working in accounting. The job paid little more than that of a Starbucks barrista, and I couldn’t afford to live on that, so I declined the offer. I had loved hearing about the theatre company so much during the interview process, that I decided to volunteer backstage as a dresser, helping with costumes during productions.

The first time I stepped into the studio space at AMT, I was nervous. I didn’t know anyone, and knew nothing about costumes, or sewing. But I was immediately greeted with a smile from Val, a seasoned AMT dresser. She and I became fast friends, and soon I met the rest of my backstage pals (sisters, as we called ourselves), including Jenni, Andy (a boy, but still a sister), and Kari. Working backstage became my new hobby, and I would have rather been backstage than at my office. A few shows after my first with AMT, I met Shannon and Steph. Others came and went, but our close group of dressers, the Chicks in Black (yes, even Andy), became a family.

We would arrive in the evening, after chowing down some fast food and changing from our day clothes to all-black. Most of us had day jobs, but during the three-week or so run of a show, we would put our lives, families, and friends aside, and drive straight from work to the theatre, and not get home until around midnight Tuesdays through Saturdays. (Sundays we got home a bit earlier because the evening performance started an hour earlier.) We did shows Tuesday through Friday, and 2 on Saturday and Sunday. (I once made magnets for us that said “Theatre people do it 8 times a week.” and shirts that said “Dressers do it in the dark/with velcro/quick”…etc.) In the beginning, we were paid for our expenses, which included mileage and black clothing. Eventually we got raises, but none of us did it for the money. We were volunteers. We did it for the art. For the people we got to work with. And, let’s be honest. For the naked men. Gay or straight, they’re still naked. Or at least in dance belts.

Upon arriving at the Center for Performing Arts each show night, I was transformed. I escaped reality and entered a world of fantasy.

I got to work with God, Adam and Eve, and watch Noah bring the animals onto his ark in Children of Eden.
I spent evenings under the spell of the Phantom and watched the masquerade ball from backstage, like a child spying on his parents.
I helped dress showgirls and then helped them into rain slickers for Singin’ in the Rain. Every performance included a rain shower onstage, for Don to tap dance in.
I witnessed nightly duels between D’Artagnan, Aramis, Athos, and Porthos and the bad guys. (The actress playing Constance in the world premiere of The 3hree Musketeers would go on to win her first Tony Award for Thoroughly Modern Millie).
I finally got to dress boys when we did Victor/Victoria, but they dressed in drag a lot for that show, so my experience dressing women came in handy.
Grease, one of my all-time favorite movies had me singing along silently as I set my 50s costumes, waiting for a pompous little actor to run to me so I could rip off his clothes.
Evita began shortly after my friend Val passed away, and at our first run-through, we all cried (with Argentina) during the funeral scene.
During opening night of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, I found out Jamie had cancer. I had to drop out of the show to take care of him.
After I resumed my pre-caregiving life, I stopped letting people rain on my parade and reunited with my theatre family for Funny Girl. One of the guys I was dressing wore chaps and liked to put them on with nothing on underneath.
Joanne Worley and her pup Harmony joined us for the next show, On the 20th Century. That woman can laugh!
After that, came Dreamgirls, starring ousted American Idol contestant Frenchie Davis. Every night when she belted “you’re gonna love me,” and hit that high note, I got chills. She was a kick, that Frenchie.
Dreamgirls was a busy show for me (wink, wink) so when A Chorus Line started, starring Dr. Craig Wesley from DOOL, it was a welcome change to be able to sit upstairs near the dressing rooms and knit for almost the entire show talking to Dr. Craig Wesley! until our singular costume change just before the finale.
After A Chorus Line danced out of the theatre, Carole King’s Tapestry came in. I spent a lot of my waiting-to-dress-my-actors time pretending to be really into Carole King tunes, and dancing around, doing my Janet Jackson impression.
The last show I dressed at AMT was the Wizard of Oz. Sadly, I had to leave the show mid-run because my toes swelled up like baby carrots. Damn that psoriatic arthritis.

I hated having to stop dressing. I missed my creative outlet. I missed my friends. I missed hearing the sound of beautiful voices warming up, and long-legged dancers contorting themselves to stretch their muscles before a show. I missed the girl talk in the ladies’ dressing room and the gurl talk in the men’s dressing room. I missed hearing the orchestra tune their instruments. I missed the cheers from the audience during bows. I missed going out for drinks across the street with the dressers, even if it meant I’d only get 5 hours of sleep. I still miss it. I miss all of it.

I wanted to go back someday when my now hectic work schedule would allow it, and be a part of something so special once again. But now AMT is gone.

Thank you, AMT. For the music, the talent, the laughs, and the memories. I will miss you.

You know those people?

catheroo — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 17:51:31 +0000

Inevitably in a class or seminar there is always one annoying person who asks the most questions, makes the most comments and generally slows down the pace of the class or seminar. Always there is this person. Why is that? Is there a club of these people and they sign up to sit in each of these classes or seminars? Every single day? Seriously. There is always just one. So they all must call each other to make sure that specific course is covered.

And at concerts there is always at least one person in the general vicinity who stands out. Whether they’re flailing about in an attempt to dance, or whistling loudly, or singing off-key, they’re there. And last night they were right there. Sitting next to me.

Oh, she was excited to see Lyle Lovett. It must be noted that the venue where Lyle plays is quite…sedate. Well, not sedate, but it’s not the type of place that lends itself to crowd surfing or even standing up until encore time when the place gets jumping. The Mountain Winery in Saratoga is a lovely, intimate place to see a concert, and most people are polite and mellow don’t cause a ruckus. But this woman in the seat next to mine was quite ~~annoying as hell~~ the character. She was dressed in all denim. Denim capris, denim (chambray really) short sleeved shirt with buttons down the front and some applique of some sort, and a denim baseball cap. Oh, and on her feet? Cowboy boots of course, because, duh. Lyle Lovett! But cowboy boots? With capris? Really?

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I took my seat. In a sea of concert goers, she was the only one with her arms up. I think her eyes were closed as she tipped her head back and swayed, as if in a religious trance of some sort. Fine, Lyle had a gospel choir backing him up, but this was Lyle Lovett and His Large Band, not the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. She was so into her swaying, that a couple of times her arms smacked my head. So Matte gently tapped her arm so she’d sway back to the right, away from my skull. There was a lapse of time, and she said (finally), “Oh, sorry…next time I do that, just elbow me in the ribs.” Uhm, yeah. I wouldn’t be doing that, but thanks for snapping out of your hypnosis to realize there are people next to you whose personal space you are invading.

I can appreciate someone being into the music, but her reaction was just so odd for the tunes Lyle plays. The swaying stopped soon afterwards, but it was replaced by laughter. She laughed loudly at every lyric, even those that were not funny. And she’d laugh loudly, and look at me to see if I thought it was funny too. Usually it was not, but she looked for my approval at each guffaw, coming up empty every time.

After every song, she yelled “YAAAAAAAY!” and clapped and “YAAAAAAAY!” and said “Mighty fine. Mighty fine.” Adding, “that’s what we say in the Bluegrass country. Mighty fine.” Great. Thanks for that.

Oh, and the singing. She didn’t sing well. I preferred the laughter to the singing actually. But at least it kept her from talking to Lyle. We were not sitting close to the stage at all, but when Lyle spoke of performing since the 70’s and how a lot has happened since then, my seat neighbor reminded him, “Yeah, you’ve been married and divorced since then!” referring to Julia Roberts, of course.

My seat neighbor seemed drunk and smelled of Lancers and stale Pall Malls.

It wasn’t just me, either. She was quite noticeable to the rest of the crowd. People in front of us kept turning around to see who was being so loud. She didn’t seem to notice or care. She just kept up her conversations with herself (and Lyle although she could not hear). Her reactions were always delayed and awkward and she was driving me nuts. Lyle started one of his more famous hits, one that every Lyle fan recognizes at the first 2 notes or so. She didn’t react until he began to sing, when she again said, “Yaaaay!” and “That tickles my fancy!”

Her husband was sitting next to her the entire time, and not once did he say, “Calm down maude.* You’re making a scene.” I would hope, that if I were being that annoying, someone would tell me.

*That may or may not have been her name. But it probably was.

Glen Phillips

catheroo — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 18:54:54 +0000

Glen Phillips

Originally uploaded by catheroo

He looks almost the same as he did when he was with Toad the Wet Sprocket, except for a few smile lines around his eyes. And he sounds just as good, if not better.
Photo taken in Berkeley, CA 02.17.08.

Gimme one song. Or two. Or ten…

catheroo — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 02:51:01 +0000

As most of you know, I am running my first half marathon this Sunday. It will take me ~~a while~~ forever and I need to fill my iPod playlist with many, many tunes. Unfortunately Iâ€m having trouble finding songs Iâ€m not tired of hearing. I need a cheering section throughout the 13-mile endeavor (in forecasted 44 degrees and possible rain, with 19 mph winds), so if you would be so kind as to give me the name (and artist) of one song (or a few, or several) to add to my playlist, itâ€ll be like youâ€re in my ear, saying, â€œGO CATH! You can do it!â€

It would help if the song was on the upbeat high-energy spectrum, but anything is fineâ€¦except for lullabies. Probably not such a good idea. Also, I hate Celine Dion, so you can skip her entirely.

Even if the song is not my usual taste (but I like all types of music so I’m not sure what my taste is) I will play it during the run (except for Celine, and assuming I can download it somewhere), and I will know that you’re cheering me on in spirit. I’m even putting your name in the title, so when I look at my iPod, it will remind me who suggested the song. I can almost feel the love already!

Some of you offered tunes by commenting on an earlier request I posted for cardio songs, and I plan on using some of those as well. But I need to fill like THREE HOURS of time.

So far, from input from co-workers, I have quite an eclectic mix: Jay Z, Van Halen, Michael Jackson, Metallica, Pink, Hot Hot Heat, Pat Benatar, and Thicke to name a few.

So what song do you want me to run to and think of you?

You make the call

catheroo — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 04:18:59 +0000

What’s worse:

The fact that Matte was singing loudly and rocking out to Joey Scarbury’s Theme from the Greatest American Hero in my car?
or
that I have that song on my iPod?

I think it’s a toss-up

Good things come in itsy bitsy teensy weensy packages

catheroo — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 03:17:34 +0000

My love for apple knows no bounds. I needed a new iPod. I did! So, yeah. I have a 30GB video iPod, but it’s too big to put on an armband for the gym, so I had to get something smaller. I had to. Hence, the nano. Plus, I had Amazon gift certificates, so it was practically free, dontchyaknow. And because I am supremely nerdy, the first song I put on it was Feist’s 1234. But at least it wasn’t Donny and Marie!

Now, please, pretty please send me ideas for songs to put on my new wee little nano. I need songs to huff and puff to while I run on the treadmill or do whatever the act is called that you perform on the elliptical (ellipticize? ellipt?). I have to prove that I really needed this, so I have to take it to the gym. And that means, I have to actually go to the gym. So please support my fitness endeavor by leaving a peppy joggable song title in the comments. I promise to think of you every time it plays.

Seriously though, isn’t it the tiniest, cutest thing ever?

I’m totally sleeping with it tonight.