Mister Plow

Thus far the frustration has been mounting. Success has been met with equal failure. It has started to make both me and Kelly tense.

Things changed on Monday.

The first show on Monday brought us to our third gag of the show, the Karate Gag. Kelly and I were talking about God-knows-what behind the curtain before going on. The cue approached and all went silent between us as we prepared for our entrance. The time came and I charged out. I actually charged out.

We did the gag and it went well. I felt better about it than I had so far. That energy and success carried me through the whole day. My brain said "My God, it's about time I felt some success with this process!"

Tuesday came. Would it happen again? It did and I brought my observation up to Kelly. She thought that the strange, simultaneous charge of the day before was a shot of momentum when it was much needed. It had indeed been simultaneous. Like watching a flock of birds change direction instantly, Kelly and I had the same idea the day before without even discussing it. We weren't even talking about our frustration; the subject was something completely different and very likely geeky. But the cue came and we both charged, full of energy to fire into the crowd like a "Yeah, baby!" nova. We infected each other and the gag.

It's not that she or I slack or sandbag, but sometimes you need that extra boost to blow something out over the top of a hill. For my part, it was the moment when I channeled my frustration into my work instead of trying to wrap my head around it. Frustration was a guest in my house, but it was time to play Tom Sawyer and "show" that guest how fun it was to do the chores.

It reminded me of the first time I saw Rage Against the Machine (!). It was Lollapalooza 1993 and against all probability, it had come to Des Moines. Tool was "the loud band" that everyone saw playing on the second stage. Before them was Mutabaruka. RATM played overlapping Mutabaruka and before Babes in Toyland on the main stage. In between songs, Zack DeLa Rocha always kept screaming and proclaiming "Your anger is a GIFT!"

It carried me through to the two days off, which are now almost at an end. We still have plenty of work to do with a couple of other gags, but if I die, I'm going to die on my feet, facing failure. To me that's a harder concept than facing death. Inevtiable mortality is an easy concept to accept. Inevitable fallibility is not.