Chapter 15 A bag full of ball dust Part 2

Power Suit begins to call us up one at a time. The Casting Director places the contract in front of us individually handing us his pen and we are told to sign.

We begin to form a line, like cattle to the slaughter.

"I need to read my contract", says someone. "No time", says the Casting Director. “We need to finish this in the next 20 minutes so we can get everything in gear” We sign and leave.

I lie in bed and look at the shadows on my ceiling; I drift in and out of sleep all night long.

We spend the next day in rehearsal, changing everything that we learned this far. We put things back into the show that we cut during the second week. We learn new sections that change after lunch. We have learned every possible combination to this show that we can learn. No one is retaining anything. We push on."Lots to do", say's the Assistant Director.

We are now rehearsing new things every day, changing old things from 30 minutes ago and nothing is ever set. We are told that “It’s up to be changed”

A sign is posted on the call board of the theatre after rehearsal. I can see a group standing around reading it. The heads of the company will be throwing us a Christmas party before we leave the island. The note goes on to say that they will pay for the first two drinks and then we will pay for anything we drink after that. Clearly they know this group.

The night for the party arrives; the company has reserved a special bus to drive us to a restaurant. We dress in our finest clothes and walk into the parking lot of the condo. Small talk is made as the bus arrives and we pile in and drive off to the party. Everyone is happy that at least the end is in sight. The mood is very light, we joke and laugh, we act like children hopped up on sugar. I haven't seen the Cast this happy in months.

The bus climbs the long hill to the restaurant, and the setting is magical. Twinkling Christmas lights cover all the trees and the moon is shining bright in the sky. We enter the place, warm lighting falls across the walls and soft music is playing. The Cast grows completely silent as we look around. “It’s a trap,” I whisper. This gets several giggles in response.

The crew at the restaurant hands out Raffle tickets as we make our ways to our seats. We look around the room with our mouths hanging open, we are in awe. The Company has gone above and beyond to put this together.

We have made it. We went into hell and we came out alive.

The heads of the Company are patting themselves on the back as they take their seats at the front of the room. I am reminded of the Bride and Grooms table.

One of them picks up the microphone, asks “Is this on?” and starts the show. It starts as a roast to the other company heads."We had a hard struggle, but we made it"' says one. I imagine him wearing dance clothes and sweating next to me. They continue the show with back patting and stories about each other’s wives. All the time they are laughing and pushing food into their mouths. In my eyes they turn into little pigs. The Cast look at each other in horror as they finish the show by swilling down liquor.

‘Attention, Attention,” one of heads yells into the microphone. “It’s time to start the raffle!” They all scream in excitement.

The raffle begins and numbers are drawn out of a hat. It is clear that this is fixed as we all begin to win prizes. So many company gifts are given out.

We drink and dance late into the night, another announcement is made."We have gift bags for everyone." The heads yell “Hurrah!” Everyone receives a bag with a watch and glass Christmas ornament. Everyone eagerly opens their bags. "Hey I got a bag of dust!"yells one cast member.

For the first time we are treated really well, maybe It won’t be that bad, maybe it’s all over and we will move on to the next phase. We are sure that it will be smooth sailing from here on out.

We leave the party happier than we have ever been, safe in the knowledge that things would get better.

Boy, were we wrong.

to be continued......

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "Not Only Magic Floats". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Chapter 15 A bag full of ball dust Part 1

It’s time for another meeting. This one is to give us information on how to survive Italy. Today’s meeting will take place at one of the condos in Guanahani Village. The Casting Director and Power Suit will be running this meeting. As we all crowd in with our normal “over it” attitude. 

Power Suit and The Casting Director are at the main table in front of us. "Remember to bring a rain coat and rain booties" says Power Suit as she pulls and eye pencil across her lower lid. "It got awful wet when we were there" she continues, "The streets of Venice flood all the time and I almost ruined a pair of shoes."' She laughs at this. “Imagine?” I think to myself a city built on water, flooding, truly astounding!” I also imagine that she was at a 5 star and we will be at a no star. The bathrooms will probably be flooded all the time in our hotel.

We are told what to bring and what not to bring. Some of these things run the gauntlet from sensible to absurd. "Bring Advil, but don’t bring drugs"' says Power Suit jabbing the air with her eye pencil for effect. The Casting Director quickly jumps in with several suggestions; Power Suit shoots him a sideways glance not happy about being interrupted.

"We will be staying in a four star hotel"' he says forcing a smile that shows yellowing teeth. “And be aware that the mail service really doesn’t exist there, so we will receive all your mail and send it on to you.” There is an audible groan from the cast.

The meeting goes on and on and information really isn't given to us, not the information that we need, it’s more about packing tips supplied by Power Suit. For some reason she is trying to be all sunshine and lollipops today. Maybe its so the Casting Director can be the bad guy for a change. “

We will wire all your money electronically into your accounts, until we take possession of the product" says the Casting Director. Another groan from the cast as a hand shoots straight up. "When will that be?" the person attached to the hand asks. "I’m not really sure", says the Casting Director. He looks at Power Suit and sweat begins to form on his upper lip. She shakes her head slowly from side to side as if to say “You poor dumb fuck.”

More hands shoot up and more questions get asked, they are being rapid fired in his direction. The Casting Director begins to look deflated from all the questions, not to mention the tight lipped unblinking stare he is getting from Power Suit. She has said little since her last tip about making more room in your luggage by rolling up your clothes.

Power Suit reaches across the table in front of the Casting Director and with one finger taps his briefcase. A smile crosses her face and she looks directly into the crowd."Now let’s get down to business"' she says, I have another contract for you to sign.

to be continued.........
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "Not Only Magic Floats". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Part 14 How do you get a tree into a van?

The island is now in full swing with everybody getting ready for Christmas. Everywhere you look are little reminders that the holiday is coming. Many of the local Bahamians are wearing little Santa hats and putting up mistletoe. A feeling of ease has settled upon the cast and we are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Allegedly, everything didn’t go so well at the run-thru’s and the company feels that we need to go back into rehearsal. Our initial contracts were only 3 months long. The Company feels that the shows are not ready. We are now going to change many of the numbers that we spent months learning.

To combat this, the Company has added another rehearsal space. This way no one gets a day off and they can finish the product that they want. This new space is just up the road past our condos. It is the banquet hall of another hotel.

From the look of things when we arrive at the venue for the first time it’s clear that the original name of the hotel was “The Flea Hop Inn.”  As we walk inside, we are asked to push the tables out of the way before we start rehearsal. Today we begin with sword fighting. Our fight director has a clear vision of how it should go, if only the director and choreographer would stop changing their vision daily, we would be done by now.

In the middle of the fight scene the choreographer suddenly wants a big dance number. He jumps up and starts swinging a sword while twirling around us “Can you believe that I never had a lesson?” he asks while we were busy ducking out of his way.

The main stage in the casino is still for running parts of the show that have big dance numbers. We quickly find that with our new additional space we spend most of our time running between the two venues.

Today we learn of a new “dilemma.” Our cast is full of amazing singers with incredible voices but the company has added voices on a click track to “sweeten” their sound. This has thrown the cast into turmoil once again.

The Director approaches one of the African American female cast members who is currently wailing and singing the hell out of one the songs.  I feel like I am sitting a Baptist church watching a sermon when the director asks this girl "Can’t you be more ethnic?" He then goes on to do his imitation of what “be more ethnic” means. He acts like he is in a minstrel show.

Now during the dance break of this number the choreographer has another one of his brilliant ideas. "I was watching a church revival on TV the other night.”  “Can’t you jump around like that?" He begins to jump around like he is on fire.

There is no end in sight.

To keep us in a holiday mood, our Stage manager steals and stuffs a fully decorated Christmas tree that he took from the hotel into his minivan. "Tis the season" he says.

We begin decorating for our island Christmas party, it’s still pretty hot, but we pull out our winter wear that we have packed away in our closets. All our houses get filled with Christmas lights and tinsel and eggnog is made. We gather together where people read a poem entitled the 12 days of the company and rehash all that we have been through. Then we finish by singing carols.

We have been through such and emotional and draining mess, and yet have so much love to share with each other.

After our party, I stumble home, tuck myself into bed and pass out.

to be continued....

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "Not Only Magic Floats". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.