On Camping

Dear Portland,

The last time I went camping was in high school. And it was for a choir retreat, so it wasn't like I went to camp for funsies, like the rest of you seem to do multiple times a year. Perhaps you can't tell by my skinny jeans and plaid shirts that I, too, am a Portlander, and by nature I too would like to go camping.

Living in Portland for the past thirteen years, I have met many friends with heterogeneous backgrounds and interests, who all love to go camping. Some do it all year round, some only do it when the weather is nice. Unfortunately, nobody wants to take me camping. They like to talk about it, keeping me informed of when and where they are going, and how relaxing and salubrious their trip was upon their return. When I tell them that I haven't gone camping in YEARS, they responded with utter bewilderment, wanting to know why. Well, here are my reasons:

1) I don't drive.

2) Even if I did, I wouldn't want to go alone.

3) I wanna go with friends.

4) Friends are always too busy CAMPING WITH OTHER FRIENDS.

So here are my pleas: either take me camping with you, or shut the fuck up about it. Just say you were going to the movies or something, for a week. I'll believe you.

Summer is almost over. I'm starting a new job soon. Wanna be a nice person? TAKE ME CAMPING WITH YOU! I want to experience nature. I want to hear brooks babble, hear wild birds chirp, hear crickets crick. The closest I get to nature these days is when I meditate to recorded nature sounds. I NEED YOU!!!

With love,

S.

What I think about when I'm putting on a show

A lot of improvisers I know like to challenge themselves to be more daring. Let's throw into the show some random shit we've never worked on before! Let's fuck with your scene partner to see how they would handle it! Let's take ridiculous suggestions from the audience and see if we can make gold out of shit! Let's get on stage even though your girlfriend just dumped you, your dad just died, you car just got stolen, you have food poisoning, etc! I can't relate to this desire to prove myself by intentionally putting myself under unpleasant circumstances. Sure, it's good to be brave, to not be afraid to fail, to know that it's okay to fail, to know that the stage is a safe place and everyone is there to take care of you, but my examples seem too much like shooting yourself in the foot.

When I have a show coming up, I like to think about the audience. I like to think about the people who have to leave their house. Maybe they're coming to the show after a long day at work. Maybe they have to pay for a sitter. Maybe they choose us over going to the movies or just staying in and watching Netflix. Maybe they have to park on the east side and cross the bridge on foot because parking is cheaper there. Maybe they have to pay for super expensive parking downtown. They DEFINITELY have to pay for tickets to our show. They might end up buying overpriced drinks at the bar. A LOT of money is spent on a night out. I want to give them a good show. I want them to go home inspired. I have met too many people at the theater who told me they had never seen improv before. Well, if you give them a good show, maybe they'll come back. If not, they may never give improv another chance, not just our improv but everybody's.

Even people who have a great time don't always come back. A few years ago I had a chat with an audience member at the Brody who said he had the best of time, and he won a pair of free tickets for giving the best suggestion. I was at every Brody show for almost two years, and I never saw that person again. 

As performers I believe that it's our responsibility to not only to get people to come to the show but also to give them a great time, so that they go and tell other people about it. The least we can do for our beloved art form is to try to do it well.

So please, leave your ego at the door, and get to work.