Saturday, March 5, 2011

#305: Serenity


Big fish for another 24 hours...
 It's a rainy spring morning in the Bluegrass. (Thanks, groundhog, for the early respite.) My to do list if full of things that didn't get done this week, and I'm thinking the best thing to do might be to put them all off till Monday. In spite of Wednesday's high-diving exhibition, I'm still walking on air. Last night's performance was heavenly. The audience was with us right from the start. There's a feeling you get when the house is with you. They're breathing with you. They're laughing together. They aren't checking their watches or reading their programs or squeaking their chairs. One of the things I love about live theatre is the physical contact. The actors actually touch you with their voices. The same air that makes the sounds in their throats vibrates on your ears, your face, all of you. But when that tide flows in the other direction... when the actors feel the breath and life of the audience washing back over them... my God, but it's great to be in the theatre.

So, today I think I'll just drink in what's left of my small pond celebrity. Maybe sort some laundry. I need to go pick up my race bib for the Shamrock Shuffle next weekend. I really should run today, but it's nasty out and I don't feel like getting to the gym and I'm a big shot for another 24 hours and I can do whatever I want so there. Besides. I can't run till I sort some socks. I confess, I've been avoiding this chore. I actually stopped at the store on the way to the theatre last night and bought three pair of black socks for my costume so I wouldn't have to dig through that laundry basket again. Pathetic, I know, but even local celebrity is fleeting. I have to be prodigal while I still can. Come Monday, all excuses will expire.

Someone once said that there are really only two prayers: "Help me, help me, help me!" and "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" For the longest time, I thought that God wasn't hearing my cries for help. But now, all I can say is "Thank you," for the answered prayers that have fallen on me like the cold spring rain outside. Today, I am a very rich man.

Peace,
Pennsy

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