Vocal Fun

Thanks to Cory for this link.

What happens when the five most popular voices in America get together? Well, since you have no clue who this guys are -- but I guarantee know their voices -- it is a special treat.

Check out the video.

Just me chuckling,

Sean

ps If you haven't been in a while (or have been busy snorkeling), you should hope over to Cory's blog anyway, as he has an update on the three latest projects he is working on.

The Road to Nower: The Reading

"Well, I'm on the bias on this one, but I thought the reading went great! There were many, many, HUGE laughs. I myself remember having to hold or repeat lines because the audience was laughing over something that came before. Well written, my friend -- what's the scoop with the many producers that were there? And thanks for letting me be a part of such fun! -Clare”

As Clare says, the reading of our sit-com pilot, “Middle of Nower,” went quite well. We received a very positive response from the audience, even from the producer types that were there. Several scripts were taken; so we shall see this week if we get any calls on the piece.

The cast was marvelous; we couldn’t have asked for better. Thank you to all who participated – and for those that couldn’t be there, but sent their best wishes and prayers.

I realize that I have been remiss in relating to my blog community (all three of you) the journey to having such a reading. I’ve been getting the usual questions: "How did you team up with Joel?"

"How did you get folks like Nathan Fillion and Fred Willard in on the development reads?"

"How did you get Clare out of Folsom Prison long enough to perform?"

The answer to the last one is a file in a birthday cake and a bribe to the guard, but for the rest of them, I’ve decided to document the whole journey in the coming days.

So stay tuned!

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Read is Fun and Mental

Tomorrow (Friday) I'm going to try something different.

My friend Joel and I have written a sit-com pilot (Middle of Nower). Pilots are usually sold by getting the script to an agent, hoping they like it, and then they try to get an interview at a production company.

Then the writers go in and "pitch" the project, trying to convince the production company people that the sit-com is funny and will sell. The pc-ers, if they like it, go to the studios and pitch it to see if they can convince the studio people that it is funny and will sell.

If they all agree that it might be funny and it might sell, then they read the script.

Well, we aren't going to do it quite that way.

On Friday, we are having a cast of actors do a reading of the script (just like we do in the theatre world). We are inviting production companies to come, hear the script being done the way it was meant to be, and see how funny it really is. (We're taking the guess work out of the process).

Our cast includes Nathan Fillion, Ron Glass, Fred Willard, Sally Struthers, Leigh Allyn Baker, Kevin Brief, Catherine Gaffney, Robert G. Lee, Toby Meuli, Clare Sera, Jodi Shilling, Peter Allen Vogt and Paul Willson. (All doing it for free.)

Karen Lund is coming down from Seattle to direct.

I'll blog next week on how we got to this point, and whether this experiment seemed to work or not.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Men Rule!

I've always been suspect of folk that refer to Genesis to point out that the male of the species was meant to domineer it over the female of the species.

They point gleefully to the verse stating the the woman will desire after her husband, and he will rule over her. The Bible says it, I believe it, and that settles it.

What they don't point out is that this is a curse -- a result of the sin of the Fall. This was not how G-d designed things to be. (Life is so much easier if we don't mess with context.)

And ladies, can you think of a worse punishment than having us guys in charge?

Alice Bass gets it right in The Fairfax. Hop on over for her take on the curse.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Deep in the Heart of Texas

Speaking of bragging, my short film, The Importance of Blind Dating, just won theAUDIENCE AWARD at the Flatland Film Festival in Lubbock, Texas.

Director Jim Buglewicz and DP Jonathan Williams were on hand to receive the news.

Way to go, team!

-Sean

Play Day

I relaxed today.

Slept in a bit.

Drove to a southern beach, only to decide that the waves were too unruly to deal with. Drove back.

Cath slept on the ride, while I listened to Unsung Broadway. Sat in the car after arrival to finish hearing "New Words" from One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

Lounged on the lanai and read while watching the ocean. Finally got a copy of Sheryl Anderson's Killer Cocktail. More on that later.

Catherine read The Kite Runner while I took a nap. And by read, I mean she started and finished it in one sitting. Which gives you an idea of how long I napped.

We did some laundry, and strolled up to Mickey D's for a hot fudge sundae while waiting for the clothes to spin.

Made dinner of grapes and chips and other random found items.

Watched the sun set. Over the ocean. From our lanai.

Nothing profound here; no wisdom twist to this post.

I'm merely bragging.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Fishofishofishi

I saw a fish today.

Not just any fish -- although I saw a lot of fish, and some might be considered "just any fish."

No, I saw the state fish of Hawaii.

The name of the fish is: Humuhumunukunukuapua'a.

Which roughly translates to: "Why'd you let the guy with the stutter name our state fish?"

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Round and Round We Go

I walked a labyrinth today.

I had encountered labyrinths before, in New Harmony, Indiana. Unlike mazes, labyrinths have no false turns or misleading angles. There is only one path to the center; the same path leads back out.

The idea is pray or meditate: to wind one’s way inward and slowly return mentally/spiritually refreshed – or at least calmer. Getting lost wouldn’t help with the calming; thus there is no way to get lost.

I chose to go basic, and meditate on The Lord’s Prayer as I walked this particular labyrinth today.

As each turn opened up a new vista of lava rocks, or beach, or vast ocean, it was easy to understand why someone would take time to carve out a spiritual shrine in this cliff-side spot.

About half way in, a family stopped by. The father explained to the kidlets that this was a sort of maze – a game. The two young boys chose the pathway for a squealing round of tag.

Laugh, yell, giggle, screech, run, shout, laugh.

It is hard to be all pious and meditative when there are young children about.

Which, of course, says more about my spirituality than anything else.

Jesus, in his most rabbinical of moods, said that we really can’t understand heaven until we “get” the spiritual approach of kids.

Not that we need to laugh, yell, giggle, screech, run, shout and laugh in all of our spiritual moments – children don’t lygsrsl all the time either.

But it shouldn’t be so hard to have tag’s overwhelming joy sit side-by-side with a meditation on “Thy kingdom come.”

Should it?

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Take That, Cherry Blossoms

Here’s some poetry:
I was in Haiku today,
A lyrical town.


Just my thoughts,

Sean

ps Responses to this entry should be in proper format.

The Road to Chapin

I went slow yesterday.

Not that I had much choice. The road to Hana is 45 miles of nothing but curves (over 600, according to the tour books) and peril. There is at least one bridge for every mile that can not take two cars, and twice as many sections of the road that require yielding to oncoming traffic.

The speed limit is at some points 10 mph; sometimes 15 mph; and when the authorities feel crazy, it goes all the way up to 20 mph.

Not that I needed an official limit. A couple of times around a tight curve, facing down on oncoming vehicle that is trying its darnedest to outrun the law, and squeaking by with inches or fractions thereof between our car and death, well, one strongly considers taking the trip at a relaxed pace.

Surprisingly, this ex-New Yorker became comfortable going slow. To the point that I did not mind pulling over to let my less turtle-minded fellow travelers pass by. Suckers, I thought.

You see, they were missing so much stuff. The road to Hana is beautiful – the folk here tell you to take the road if you want to see how G-d intended the earth to be.

Too many folk (as the guidebook Maui Revealed reveals) take the trip foolishly thinking that the purpose of the road is to get to Hana.

The purpose of the road is to be on the road.

To enjoy the ride. To be on the way to, not just focused on arriving at.

We listened to Harry Chapin on the return trip. “Mr. Tanner” struck a chord.

“Mr. Tanner” is about a dry cleaner in the mid-west. He is a pretty content fellow, with an extraordinary gift – he was blessed with a marvelous voice.

But even more than his talent, he was blessed with the joy of singing.

His friends convince him that he is wasting his gift by singing to himself, or just at local shows. Such a gift was meant for fame and recognition! Mr. Tanner puts them off, until finally they convince him.

So he spends his life’s savings to arrange a concert in New York City, figuring that a huge opening will draw attention to his gift, and start him down the road to glory. His debut doesn’t go over well, and he is savaged by the critics.

So he returns home, shakes off his friends with a smile…

And he never sings again.

There is a lot that can be pulled from this song/story. For me, Mr. Tanner’s mistake wasn’t in trying to turn his talent into a career. His mistake was in forgetting that G-d’s gifts aren’t about the destination – they are about the journey.

Mr. Tanner was given the joy of music; and he traded that joy for the hope of earthly success and glory.

And in the end, he got exactly what all of us who tunnel-vision our way toward success get: Emptiness. Loneliness.

And sorrow.

I so often fall into the same trap as I write. I scribble to get a project done, looking for the paycheck at the end of the labor.

Sure, I need to sell. But the gift isn’t in the joy of arriving at a sale, or a premiere, or recognition.

G-d’s gift is the joy of creating.

“Music was his life,
It was not his livelihood.
And it made him feel so happy,
It made him feel so good.

And he sang from his heart,
And he sang from his soul;
He did not know how well he sang
It just made him whole.”

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Lookin' Down on Creation...

I went to the top of a volcano today.

The ride up was spectacular. (Note I said, “ride.” Last time I visited a volcano, I hiked to the top. Let this show all that I am capable of learning.)

Volcanoes are rather awe-inspiring. Inspiring enough to get people of another era to toss in the occasional chaste lady.

The ride up inspired us to toss in a cd of G-d focused music. Listening to Katie Freeze’s compositions on These Are the Days is easier on the conscience than that whole virgin thing.

Some of Katie’s lyrics fit the mood of the moon-lit drive perfectly, such as “surprising stillness…” However, I was more drawn to her “Domine,” a soaring requiem – pure, crystalline, haunting.

I think I needed Latin to express the inexpressible of the soul as we ascended above the clouds, each curve in the road opening up a new expanse of shadowed glory.

The moon turned red, dimming the natural light as we climbed out of the car. We bundled up against the cold – we had traveled 8,000 feet and descended over thirty degrees.

Catherine had to use a flashlight to help us navigate to the crater’s edge. We were surrounded by people, yet how many and who would have to wait until sky lightened some.

We found a space at the rail, enough for Catherine to squeeze in. I pushed in behind her, partly to secure my own view of the East, partly for warmth, partly to make sure I didn’t lose her in the darkness.

We arrived none too soon; the sky began to lighten. The crater and the island below us were covered in clouds; the light only showed us what there wasn’t to see. The white of the clouds acted as a balance to the shifting colors of the sky.

It was light enough now to see those around us. The couple from Maryland, celebrating their 43rd wedding anniversary by freezing on the mountain top. The Indian father trying to corral his four giggling daughters (straight from Bride and Prejudice) into a picture frame around the lightening sky. The bored girl to our left, huddled under her dad’s arm, accepting embarrassment in exchange for warmth.

All of us looking out, waiting for it to happen.

The girls were giggling again. I glanced about, only to confirm that they weren’t being silly. This was funny. There were, what? A hundred or so of us, all uncomfortable, all tired from waking in the middle of the night to make the journey. All for what?

To see a ball rise above the clouds. As if, maybe, this one time the ball would surprise us and not make an appearance.

Pretty silly, pretty strange, pretty funny.

Someone said “Whoa.” Those that weren’t already staring turned.

A sliver of Sol had hit the horizon.

One of the girls let out a “it’s coming, it’s coming!” It wasn’t giggly. It wasn’t sarcastic or bored. It was pure awe – the ball was coming.

The sun broke the horizon. What would have been greeted with applause were it man-made fireworks was instead greeted by a corporate hush. The mere beauty of it – the majesty, the color, the simple splendor – took all of us by surprise, even though we knew it was coming, even though we knew it would be beautiful, even though we knew.

Rob Bell says, “Beauty can be crushing sometimes, can’t it?”

The natives broke out into song – one of welcome and blessing.

I appreciated their song, as my heart didn’t want to form its own words of welcome or blessing.

And still I did not want to borrow their words. So my heart borrowed Katie’s.

Domine, Jesu Criste.

Domine!

Domine!

Domine!

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Silly Listening

It's the silly pleasures in life.

Riding the airplane, over five hours of flight. In one of those seats just under the monitor, making it too close to comfortably watch the movie, and the next screen too far to see clearly. Loud kid a few seats back, talkative guy one seat over, the usual.

So the decision is to sleep -- or at least zone out to make the time passage bearable.

Oh, earphones are free on this flight. Plug in to hear what's on the radio.

Find a station playing something called the "Macaroni and Cheese Song." Not a fan of the food (I call it "Smack Baloney and Sneeze," much to my wife's chagrin), but digging the song.

Next up is an ode to the glories of chocolate milk. I'm liking this station. Realize before long it is XM Kids. My decades past their demographic don't matter; this is the perfect noise to take my mind off the things of this earth.

But what really floated my boat was two songs that popped up later in the flight.

A rock band cover of "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything."

Yep, a cover.

By a rock band.

If you don't know "Pirates," well, you probably aren't in college or spend time near five year olds. It is a Veggie Tale song, wherein a cucumber, a potato, and a grape regale the listener with their tales of... well, not doing anything.

And then, shortly before landing, the station plays "Great Big World" from the Hoodwinked soundtrack.

Yep, my friend Cory's movie lives on, even though the soundtrack is not officially available anymore. You can't stop the signal.

But more importantly, it made me smile.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Pasticcio

Some of my favorite pieces from friend Bryan Ballinger's site. Check it out.

Always Guard Your First Aid Supplies

Don't Fence Me In

Ever want to just get away from it all?

That is just what my wife and I did, as we took off to the hinterlands with Shon, Jodi, Cory and Vicki.

We packed up our camping gear, including our new tent (Coleman says it sleeps 3; a very, very, very friendly three…) and headed for Big Bear, a place I had never been.

Just after hitting 7,000 feet, Big Bear Lake appears. A lake. At the top of the mountain. I thought water ran down hill – shouldn’t the lake be at the bottom of the mountain? But never mind, we were getting away from it all.

And aside from the other campers on the road, and the occasional boat-dock marinas, “it all” was far away. The only sign of civilization we passed on the last leg of the journey was a shack doubling as a store, with a hand drawn sign out front proclaiming that here resides the three basic food groups of the backwoods: “ICE, BEER, BAIT.”

Ah.

We marveled, that first night. This is what our forebears had to bear – out in the woods, no resources but one’s own resourcefulness. Forget to pack it? Then forget about it for another two days. We are on the edge of nowhere, people!

Cory spent an hour the next morning, building a fire, boiling water, and trying for the right cocoa mixed with instant coffee crystals combination to feed his Double Tall Latte Mocha craving.

Ah.

But that afternoon, my wife got a tad too much sun, and for the comfort of the next few days, we decided to trek back into the real world for the forgotten aloe vera. I wasn’t looking forward to the long drive down the mountain, back into the real world.

The camp guide suggested that instead of backtracking, we just continue down the road we were on. We did so.

Two and half minutes later, (two and a half! One hundred and fifty seconds!) we were standing in a parking lot, surrounded by a Von’s, a Rite Aid, a Blockbuster, and, wait for it…

A Starbuck’s.

We were so far from civilization, that as we slurped our frappichinos and caffe veronas, we were informed that this Starbucks was not equipped with Wi-Fi. How barbaric!

There is a new merit badge being offered by the Boy Scouts: how to read directions in the star… bucks. “See that cluster of Starbucks over there, Billy? The one that looks like a mermaid? Well, you follow the middle tine of her trident straight up, and that’s the North Star!”

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Dream On!

Scooch on over to Jennifer Shuchmann's blog for pics from our last musical endeavor together.

Our next endeavor is well underway. But now I feel obligated to find a part for a six year old Abraham Lincoln...

Just my thoughts,

Sean

August 3, 1996

10 years and the adventure continues. . .














I am blessed to be married to my best friend!
--cath

Robert J. Lee (not to be confused with Robert G. Lee -- seriously, don't confuse them, they aren't even in the same state, and both are pretty much as confused as anyone should be without you helping out) as Sam Shade and Betty as the bartender in a production of "The Maltese Cross" -- a piece I wrote eons ago that is still quite popular.

I think actor's like the piece because it gives them an excuse to carry a cigarette around in church.

Go figure.

Just my thoughts,

Sean

Blair Witch Camping Moments...

Outdoor Etiquette

I survived the great outdoors. I plan on providing a full account soon, but in the meantime I will share with you some of the “unwritten” rules of camping that I learned on my trip.

-While one of the pleasures in camping for a man is to pee in the great outdoors, apparently (according to the manager that yelled at me) the Walmart parking lot is not considered to be part of the great outdoors.

-Forcibly propelling one’s elbow into the gut of another in order to secure the last marshmallow is considered gauche, especially if you have wandered into a stranger’s campsite.

-It seems scaring one’s fellow campers with that creeping story of the guy with the hook is acceptable behavior; yet getting revenge on the guy that creeped you out with that story by putting a scorpion in his hiking boots is inexplicably considered inappropriate.

-Dragging the guy sunbathing in the Speedo towards the lake while yelling, “Help! He’s beached, and can’t breathe!” is a form of humor that will go largely unappreciated. And yet, somehow, receiving a bathing-suit-net wedgie from an angry Speedo wearer is guaranteed to illicit laughter from the entire beach.

Go figure.

Just my thoughts,

Sean