Oops, I Did It Again, Again
2006-03-29, 16:03

When I got home from work yesterday, there was a strange car in my driveway. At least, I didn't recognize it right away. It wasn't my dad, who's helping us with watching the kids, suddenly with a new car - I'd just passed him on the road seconds earlier. So I gathered up the baby, who I'd just picked up from day care, and went in.

Standing in our meager foyer, talking with my wife, was Mike, the man with whom I shared the quartet experience in The Music Man and who directed us December before last in Uh Oh, Here Comes Christmas! He was standing there with a largeish soft-cover book in his hand. I knew immediately what he'd stopped by for.

It took me only about twenty minutes to say yes.

So now, suddenly, I'm one of five people in a production of a musical revue called The World Goes Round, a compellation of music by the songwriters who wrote, among other things, New York, New York, Chicago and Funny Girl. I couldn't tell you their names offhand because I'm Google-less right now and I don't have the score with me. Feel free to do your own investigating, should you care enough to chose to do so. My first rehearsal was last night, two hours after being handed the book.

Am I crazy? Is it too soon to be doing shows? Will I ever get over the guilt of not spending every waking moment with my toddler? I know it's senseless to think I have to put my life on hold in lieu of rearing a healthy child, but the knowing doesn't make it any easier. I don't plan on having a time where I look forward to being away. But I need to be doing something, and singing, it feels good to be doing again. And I'm going to get to sing "Mr. Cellophane" from Chicago, one of those songs that anyone who's anyone wants a chance to get to sing, because it's an awesome tune. How could I say no? While stopping short of encouraging me, she's okay with the prospect of doing without me for an evening here and there. Oh, and the show starts in one month. One month, to read up on and memorize I'm not even sure how many songs. These revues are notorious for being complicated musically, because they want to sex up the version from the original to make it more interesting for an audience that's most likely heard these songs many times.

And just when I start really needing the rest, the baby's teething again. She woke herself up at 330am, though between the two of us we managed to get her back to sleep in only a half hour. Unfortunately, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I've been up since. Being up that early made for an extremely long morning, or at least it felt like it. I watched the American Idol I missed while at rehearsal, then I flipped around the stations to discover that there's no good television at 5am, except for a running of Donnie Darko on Bravo, though it was half over by the time I found it. I'm beginning to question my own dedication to Sparkle Motion.

I had a great day with the baby on Monday. After picking her up after work, we went to the store, where she got her first chance at walking around with me, instead of riding in the cart. She was extremely excited to be a free roaming purchaser. And even though she had the natural urge to pick stuff up and carry it around cos it's shiny or crinkly or whatnot, every time I'd say, "Please put that back where you found it," she'd manage to do so, or at least get it in the same basic area. Not a concept I'd expect a 16-month-old to grasp, yet there she is. She certainly has her share of mischievousness, but when the wind is northerly, she really seems to know her hawk from her handsaw.

Later on, we took a walk, her in her awesome cool Jeep stroller, and went into the park and meadow at the end of our street. We got to look at all sorts of birds and trees, and making an effort so say as many words she was hearing as possible, all while she maxed and relaxed with her goldfish crackers and apple juice. When I get my giant robot, it's going to come equipped with an adult-sized stroller I can get tooled around in. That, my friends, would be the life. Except instead of juice and crackers, it'd be nachos and a Corona. Happy belated birthday, Señor Juarez.

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