Seen and Heard: REP's 8

Readers know that I am a bit of a booster for Raleigh Ensemble Players (REP) and their "provocative, powerful, and penetrating" theatrical productions. Perhaps my love of their work (fan-boy) is due to my penchant for Modernist (difficult) literature, my brief history on the stage (high school), or my firm belief that every life is a musical (I hear your music). No matter, last night's dramatic reading of Dustin Lance Black's 8 moved me to tears, spontaneous applause, and a new insight into a difficult and often divisive subject. The script was tight, the characters human, the direction spot on, and the talent - simply unbelievable. The cream of our rich, diverse theater community was on display delivering a one-night-only performance that was close to perfection. 

On its most basic level, the play was taken from the transcripts of the federal court challenge to the constitutionality of California's Proposition 8, which revoked the rights of same-sex couples from marrying. Think Law and Order, without the murder, but with all the human drama, the courtroom arguments, the complainants' back stories, and the media - all honestly and artfully portrayed as recorded in the official record.

This work should be required viewing for all North Carolinians before entering the ballot box to vote on this very same issue - ironically on May 8th. I can only hope that the first amendment to our constitution will not be one intended to single out a group of people in order to deny them civil rights and basic dignities surrounding the most personal, private, and joyous aspect of their lives. Most people are unaware that one of the rights slaves gained upon emancipation was the right to marry. Several freedmen wrote that this right was among the most cherished, proving that they were indeed free.

And, as hard as it is to believe today, it was only 40 years ago that it was illegal in some states for inter-racial couples to marry. It is obvious that the institution of marriage continues to evolve from arranged marriages to business relationships to romantic love matches benefiting those who choose to participate. As stated in last night's closing argument: "We will all be more American the day after same-sex marriage is recognized as a legal and basic right than we were the day before."

The polls are now open for early voting.
Vote early - vote often.

Long Time, No See

Wheel of Life

Wow, I can't believe how long it has been since my last posting. Time flies when you are living your dreams....

Who am I kidding? I have been swamped with work and just haven't had time to organize my thoughts into a coherent, entertaining essay. However, following dinner with my friends Clodagh and Jerry last night, I realized that I am in a rare place of happiness. I have found a blissful moment where the hectic swirl of the world seems far away.

Since I am five weeks into the new job, the radio silence can be lifted. As you may remember, I accepted a new position at Lulu Press in March. Although I am no longer working in my beloved downtown Raleigh and I have to actually drive to the office now, I am thrilled with my work and excited by the team of highly dedicated and creative people with whom I get to spend my days. I am still drinking from the fire hose, so to speak, but I am getting my head around the job and I am eager to get to the office every morning.

Of course that is not how it started. Sometime around 2:00 PM on my first day, I started wondering if I had made a horrible mistake. So many new faces, names, personalities to learn - not to mention that I barely understood a third of what people were talking about in meetings. And, boy, you better believe these people do have some meetings. I have learned that being the oldest person in the room sometimes has its advantages in that I can use my experience and distill it into a varnish of artificial self-confidence. After all, these people didn't know that I was really a walking meat bag composed of jitters and self-doubt. Simply raising my hand and reminding people that I am the new guy, seems to jolt everyone back into English - for a few minutes anyway. Fortunately, I am picking up the jargon pretty quickly, thanks to Google.

Since those tentative days and sleepless nights, I feel that I have begun making a contribution to the success of the company. Perhaps only a small contribution at this point, but I do see a bright future for myself there and hope to stay as long as they will have me.

As to my former position, well, I am still moonlighting for them in the evenings. I just couldn't leave them in the lurch. Somehow I think this generosity has contributed to my recent karmic happiness, but it could also be the consultant-level hourly wage they are paying me that has smoothed the way for paying off the credit card, insurance, and future vacation debt yet to be incurred during my upcoming visit to the Greek Isles in August.

Life is good!

Thoughts from the Muscle Making Machines: Part 2

Although it did sound like the perfect way to start the day, being ridden and pumped before work this morning only left me feeling tired, spent, unfocused, sore, angry, and pitifully unmotivated.

The sales pitch yesterday went something like this: "You like to lift. You like to spin. You should try our new class called Pump and Ride. It is 15 minutes of spin class, 15 minutes of lifting, 15 more minutes of spin, followed by 15 minutes of lifting. It will be perfect for you."

7:00 AM the Exercise Log

It did sound perfect, so this morning I got up, ate a good breakfast and headed to the gym to attend this experimental hybrid class. First of all today's pump was replaced by interval training consisting of some sort of plastic log with handles that we had to carry while we curtsied, threaded the needle, cross lifted with forward lunges, shuffled with side lunges, and totem poled. Sounds like a delightful way to begin your day, doesn't it?  The set consisted of two rotations through the five stations. You spent 60 seconds at each station and had 15 seconds in between to rest.

I thought, "What's a minute? I can do this" Well, a minute is plenty of time to realize that you have made a terrible mistake. 15 minutes is enough time to be concerned that your breakfast may be reappearing at any moment. I kept staring at the clock, eagerly awaiting the spin portion of the class. Spin is my specialty, I do it four times a week. But, no....

7:15 AM Pushups on the Trapeze (TRX)

We went from log toting right into some sort of S&M inspired circuit of trapezes hanging from the ceiling - also know as TRX. Things like kettle bell lifts while pulling yourself off the ground with one hand. Push up / crunches while your feet were suspended above ground. The list goes on, but the tortures slowly became more imaginative, more heinous, and more painful - each worse than the one before.

I only made one circuit through this new level of Hell. Then I bolted. I just could not do another round. I had to keep telling myself that there are no heroes in Hell. And while I felt like a big old puss for not making it through another circuit, I knew in my (pounding) heart that I would excel in the spin portion. So, while my fellow prisoners were swinging in their straps while being berated by their keepers, I slipped out to get a head start on my spin bike.

8:35 AM....

Much to my surprise, my legs were like overcooked noodles. My arms barely supported my upper body as we jogged and did push ups on the spin cycle - forward and back, forward and back, foward and back for 20 minutes.

I thought that 8:00 would never arrive. But, like Christmas, it did - and so did the sales pitch. For a measly $500, I could submit myself to this special brand of torture (bootcamp) three mornings a week for the next 12 weeks. I fully understand that this type of workout will be of great benefit to my 49 year old body - but I am unsure if this body can withstand so much torture, so early in the morning, for so many weeks in a row.

Even though the class has officially been renamed "Riding and Resistance," I think I am going to pass on this opportunity. However, I will gladly cheer for the inmates / recruits / suckers each morning as I shuffle between the muscle making machines.

Thoughts from the Muscle Making Machines

In some ways we never leave high school. At 49, I still have the sense of humor of a high school boy. Particularly when it comes to double entendres.

Yesterday morning, one of the trainers at my gym came over during my workout to tell me that they had created a new class that was perfect for me. It is called "Pump and Ride."

I could not help myself. I burst out laughing and told her that I was impressed at how well she knew me. I think I will get up especially early tomorrow to attend the class before work. If experience can be trusted, a good pump and ride can be a great way to start the day.

Seen and Heard: REP's Circle Mirror Transformation

Friday was a bit of a whirlwind day. I had meetings all morning, accepted a new job offer at lunch, spent the afternoon bowling with my work mates, and then met Cathy and Arjay for dinner and a night at the theater. We met at Beasley's Chicken and Honey and got caught up over chicken biscuits, pork shoulder meatloaf, and fried flounder. Few people make me laugh as much as the Hineks - so dinner was a blast.

On another note, Arjay and I will be reunited at Lulu (along with Lucas, Kevin, Jennifer, and Patrick). Cathy graciously gave her permission for Arjay and I to resume our "work husband" relationship, although Arjay admitted that he has been cheating on me with someone else. I told him that I could be up for a "work threesome...just saying." I am sure that if Arjay likes him that we will all soon be sharing laughs together around the lunch table.

After dinner, we had a quick drink at Foundation where we ran into Seth (an ex-Peoplefluent employee) and his wife. Then it was upstairs to Raleigh Ensemble Players Theatre to see Circle Mirror Transformation by Annie Baker.

This award-winning play is part of a trilogy of plays that take place in a small New England town. The action in this piece occurs in a dance studio where a teacher, her husband, and three students participate in a six week amateur actor's workshop.The play is presented in six sections - each representing a portion of a workshop experience. Over time as the characters relax and embrace the workshop exercises, the audience begins to learn little snippets about each character. Since there is so little direct information shared, the audience is forced to piece together each character's personality in order to discover their flaws.

This work, while appearing to move along briskly from scene to scene, actually lulls the viewer into a false sense of security. The characters at the beginning of the play fit the expected stereotypes, but they do not evolve in expected directions. As such, when the dirty laundry is finally aired, there remains some small doubt as to whose laundry is on display. It is not until the surprisingly forthright final scene do you realize that the characters who appeared to be the most damaged at the beginning, actually come out of the experience with the most hopeful futures.

As usual, for REP, the casting was perfect, the acting was spot-on, and the direction was outstanding. The most striking aspect of this production was the simple, bare, elegant staging. I particularly liked the way that the wall of mirrors reflected the actor's reactions as well as those of the audience. While you were watching the actors, subconsciously you are were also watching/seeing yourself.


Last season, REP spent their entire season making me cry - sometimes with joy and sometimes with shared sorrow. So far this season, they have made me examine my prejudices and expectations. I am eager to see what they have in store for the remainder of the 2012 season.

There are three more performances scheduled for this production (March 2-4). I highly recommend it for an evening of enjoyable, entertaining, and touching theater. Click here for more information and reservations.

A Gilded Cage by any Other Name is Still a Cage...

After a coffee date, two telephone interviews, an onsite tag team interview, and a final interview with the COO, the call I had been eagerly awaiting finally came Friday afternoon. I held my breath just a bit as Melissa slowly and deliberately got through the details of the job offer. Without much thought or consideration I responded with a resounding "YES, YES, YES - I accept."

The irony of this situation was that I received the call while driving to a team building outing with one of the development teams I support. So while I was bursting to share my exciting news with someone, I did not want my manager to learn of my departure before I had a chance to break the news to her myself. Needless to say, I was quite a bit more giggly, giddy, and animated than usual during lunch.

After our outing, I pulled aside my work "wife." She had once told me that I could never leave her for another job or warmer climates and palm trees. At that time I responded to her that if I should ever have the opportunity to move to sunnier climes, that after me, she would be the second person to know about it. And while I was so thrilled and excited to share my news, I died just a little when I saw the look of disappointment on her face. Of course she immediately gave me a big hug and congratulated me. She is a good wife indeed.

Little did I know that all this week I would continue seeing that same look - just a tiny flash of disappointment - on the faces of my team mates as they each learned of my pending departure. For some time now I have known that leaving Peoplefluent would be a difficult choice. After all I like my work, I get paid well, the office is two blocks from my home, I like the people I work with, and I am not unhappy with my circumstances.

And yet I know myself and have seen this writing on the wall before. After all, no matter how well fed the bird in the gilded cage is, he is still in a cage. It is only a matter of time before the bars of that beautiful cage begin to chafe and I begin to resent the lack of career growth and available paths. So, I am flying the coup while I can still laugh and enjoy myself at work. More than anything, I want to leave with good memories of my time at Peoplefluent.

Yes, I will have to drive two miles to work. My car will appreciate the exercise. I will continue to work as a technical writer, but with a completely different voice. My work will be visible to a wider audience and I am thrilled to be working with a young, dedicated, creative team who all work to help others realize their dreams and ambitions. Check it out - I will start my new job at Lulu Press in 12 days.

Tick, tick, tick.....

Dazed, Confused, and Sorely Undersupplied: A Week in My Reality

That little cold I toted around with me the last day of our cruise reeked its revenge upon my respiratory system on Monday. I had fever, chills, wheezing, coughing fits, a runny nose, and no perishable foods in the house. The need to rest and recuperate was battling with the need to forage for healthy food - and coffee. Foraging won.

After a few cups of hot tea with honey, a long hot shower, and the last of the cold medication, I headed out into the elements for provisions. I was in luck. Although it had been cold, rainy, and snowy the day before, today was a relatively balmy 65F (18C) - winter in North Carolina is unpredictable at best, but warm is always better than cold. There was no need to bundle up. The only need was to find supplies.



Split Pea Soup

First I headed to the Home Depot for some felt pads to place under the kitchen chairs. Robbie Rumba keeps knocking the chairs around and scratching the floors (Bad Robot). Next was a trip to Target for cold medicine. Then Sam's Warehouse Club for coffee and juice. Then the grocery store for dairy and fresh produce. I was whipped when I got home, so I reheated some of the split pea soup I made before the cruise (great recipe here). I guess the re-provisioning could have waited after all.

Around 6:00 PM Monday evening, I received the call I had been waiting for the previous week on the cruise. In my delirium I happily hacked, crackled, and wheezed into the phone thinking that the HR representative was delivering the final bit of good news. Silly me, I thought that after four rounds of interviews, the decision would have been made. But no. One more interview with the COO was required. On the bright side, I figured that by Thursday, I would be fit once again and this Caribbean jungle rot thing I was carrying around with me would have run its course.

Tuesday, I did feel slightly better in the morning so I headed into work, but by the afternoon I was back to feeling feverish and generally rotten. I did not sleep very well between the night sweats and the coughing fits, so Wednesday I called in sick and called my doctor. Besides feeling really yucky - I also felt really guilty for returning from vacation and calling in sick to work. The doctor gave me some antibiotics to clear up my lungs and I felt slightly better Thursday morning. So much better that I got up at 7:00 AM, showered, had breakfast, got dressed and headed to the office. Upon reaching the elevator down the hall, I had a coughing fit that felt as if I were coughing up my toenails. So, I turned around, went back inside my condo, undressed, crawled into bed and emailed my boss that I would be staying home one more day.

The bad thing was that my final interview with the COO at my potential new employer was scheduled at lunch time. So, I took another handful of cough suppressants, slept for two hours, got up and took a very long shower, changed costume three times, and headed out the door with a cough drop in my mouth and three more in my pocket.

When I arrived at the job location, I informed everyone I met that I was sick, to keep their distance, and that there was to be no touching. So, I air hugged a friend, shook air hands with the COO, and kept my germy paws by my side for the next hour. The interview went extremely well. I asked a question and he chatted about it for 30 minutes. That evening, my references started texting me to let me know that they had been contacted.

All was good again in Glenn's world. So much so that I joined Jason for a beer (or three) at the pub to celebrate what I envision to be happy days ahead. Probably not the smartest thing I have done this week, but I was giddy and eager to share my news with a friend.