Last Call

Take a shot of Glengarry then a Dewers on the rocks. Follow it up with the finest beers around. A kwak, a double IPA, a fine German Pilsner, or even go retro with a PBR and a shot of Jim Beam. Feel that alcohol just going down your throat, soothing all the pain, and finally reaching out and traveling though your veins, reaching out and hugging your heart. Who doesn’t want to feel like this? Who could ever want this feeing to end? Who couldn’t want more?

See, we all love getting drunk. And it isn’t always alcohol. The people in our lives want to get us drunk all the time. We do things for our bosses and we strive to do more. They get that great look in their eyes. It’s like a mix between a kid in the greatest Toy store around and an adult who just blew a load right in their pants. It’s amazing that we have that power, and it feels so great to use it. Or they take you out to lunch at the finest restaurants, let you hobnob with the beautiful people, the movers and the shakers, if you will.

Or it could be some friend or acquaintance who tells us how “special” you are, about how smart or nice or caring you are. Then they take you cool places and show you around. Or it could be some chick who wraps her legs around you, bats her eyes, and says, “I’m all yours, scream if you want to, it’s just you and me.” And then they all manage to make your life a living hell because they have you.

So then, some mourning, you wake up with a hangover and a surprising soreness in odd places. They got you drunk, got what they wanted, and then they left without even saying goodbye. And all that you have is regret. Too bad you can’t even remember what you did to regret. Maybe the next time that the bartender rings the bell and yells “last call”, you will ask him for water. Instead, you had to have that last drink that would send you over the edge of reason.

See, sometimes, less often then we want, the experience of euphoria actually means something. We can connect with people. We get good responses. We can produce those feelings again, and those connections last. But often times, people just get us drunk and take advantage of us. That feeling doesn’t last. We are just stuck, wanting more, and the bars are all closed.

The Artist and The Audiance

You know, I have always had this opinion that artistic performances are kind of like making love. You are both there, you and the performers, for a visceral experience, and your vibes feed off of each other. Around the forth of July, I went to a performance by the Academy of Vocal Arts in Rittenhouse Square. A guy sang “O soave fanciulla”, and I swear to God that I was captivated. I seriously thought afterwards that if I was a Gay man, I would so fuck him.

So last night I went to see a play that was put on by a local Theater company that I am friends with. It so rocked. The use of Puppets and music and the creation of the staging before your eyes was just breathtaking. It was a folktale, meant for families, so it was just a fun experience. The puppets came alive.

I was actually hanging out later that night with some of the cast and the writer. They actually told me that when they were in rehearsal that the Director actually started giving directions to the puppets. It wasn’t on purpose. It was just that the puppets had a life of their own.

They were talking about all kinds of changes that they could make. So I asked them if the added saying that no performance is the same is true, and they said that it totally was. It was fun, because I got to see that whole process in front of my eyes. I was so glad to see this performance, and they were so glad that I came. It’s that whole relationship just taking shape.

And they talked about the relationship with the audience in this show and in past shows. They talked about how they wanted to create better responses and how they perceived people’s reactions. So at that moment, I found out that my theory is true. There really is a vibe between the artists and the audience. They really are expecting something from us. I only hope that they can give me what I want and I can give them what they want. Maybe we can have an artistic simultaneous orgasm.