LA. No, the Other One

The flag is what greets newcomers to the Shreveport airport's baggage claim. Yep, they're claiming it pretty hard, and big.

Shreveport is a strange, small part of the world. Admittedly, upon arrival yesterday I was not the best judge of reality. Sleep deprivation and hunger rarely make for sound perception. 17 hours of unconsciousness later, much better.

Casual observations. Louisiana is a lovely place, covered in green, brick, and aggressive magnolias.

The house where I'm staying comes equipped with an enclosed back porch, unexpected metal sculptures, and a just discovered wireless signal (Hells yes).

The Christianity is palpable.

Call backs are this afternoon. I didn't attend initial auditions as I was fulfilling a run as stage manager at the Side Project in Chicago. Brandy, my charming director from Tennessee, assures me that of the 20 kids who showed up (apparently half the department is boycotting the play), about 15 are castable. As long as there's a Jesus and an Ash I'm fine.

A bit more this evening about the play itself, as well as mean spirited comments from this afternoon's scene readings.

I miss Chicago. But I don't miss winter or getting up before 9:45 a.m.

Premise for Departure

Because the universe is ultimately a funny place, I have been offered money to spend six weeks talking to Christian college students in Louisiana about the importance of theatre and the sociological phenomenon of school rampages in the echo boom generation (those people born between 1982 and 1995).

What screams Spring Break more than that?

So in a mere nine and a half hours I fly to Shreveport, LA for an extended trip.

Pros:

1. Cash money.
2. Dearth of frostbite.
3. Time to write.
4. Seafood access.

Cons:

1. No haunted mansion.
2. Dearth of Erica, Michaels, and Redmoon.
3. Time to write.
4. Thai food withdrawal.

And apparently half the theatre department is boycotting auditions because of the play's content. Not the part involving the casual, and yet chillingly well-planned, murder of dozens of children. More the part where Jesus gets high and goes to the laser Floyd show.

There will be arguments. Sweet, sweet arguments. Bring the pain, Christian South. I survived you in childhood and adolescence. I will own you as an adult.

Taking: Elephant, Battle Royale, Peter Straub, Joseph Campbell, the Allison play, the Gwylan novel, a digital camera, an iPod, filthy clothes, pea-coat, whole bean orange coffee, piranha pendant (thanks, Uncle Bucky), laptop, pens, many, many ponytail holders, a clean and well maintained sense of humor.

Leaving: Schedule, winter, foreign films.