10th Date

This is what happens when I turn in my packet, which I did on Wednesday afternoon after a morning of last minute fix-ups. I give myself permission to be lazy for a day or two. Yesterday, however, could not be a lazy day.

Yesterday, I taught an all-day Monkey residency at Orchard Place in the suburbs. Five classes back to back with one break for lunch. We don't usually teach the lower grades, but these kids were amazing, and we got great group stories from even the youngest kids. The show should be a blast since we'll be representing all the kids rather than just one class.

This was also my first Monkey residency in more than two years. Before moving to LA, I would lead-teach and do several residencies each semester, so it was great, and a little intimidating, to be back.

In order to have a true lazy day, I didn't set my alarm clock last night, and maybe it was the snow, or maybe it was the exhaustion of the last couple days, but I woke up after 3pm.

I was up late to be fair, finally going to see a friend and Monkey compatriot, Mike Przygoda, play with one of his many bands, the urban country Devin and the Straights. It was a great time, and I got a reminder of how much I love live music. More of that in my life, please.

But back to the title of this post and the craziest part of this week . . . On Tuesday night, for Barrel of Monkeys' upcoming run of matinees at The Wilmette Theater, video and sound designer extraordinaire, Mike Tutaj, shot a film version of "10th Date," a story he and I adapted what must have been five years ago at least.

Here's the first movie he created for Monkeys, "Ordering Cars."


A bit of the dialogue from "10th Date," written by a fourth grader:

Frankie: I'm breaking up with you.
Ashley: (slaps him) Why?
Frankie: I'm moving to Alaska
Ashley: Oh. Well, I'm going to miss you.
Frankie: Yeah.
Ashley: Isn't this where you're supposed to say I'll miss you too?

END

Since I adore playing pathetic, low-status characters, Ashley makes me giddy. I love crazy too, and in order to justify Frankie's behavior in the film, I got to toss in a psychotic obsession with the number ten. James of Ventrella's Caffe (4947 N. Damen) was amazing enough to loan his space, which got filled with gigantic lighting gear. A bunch of Monkeys came out to be extras, and I'm sure none of this is exciting to anyone who's ever worked on an actual movie, but I was childishly thrilled by the entire thing.