Many of you have met us at one of the eight art fairs we exhibited at last year. Us being Amy (Senior Fobotologist), and the lovely and talented Phil (Cheap Fobotics Officer, Butt-Tag Maker, member of the Union of Unpaid Artist’s Assistants, and Awesome Husband). And the chances are annoyingly good that we were exhausted, sweaty, cold, wet, or any combination of those. If you’ve been following this blog, you’ve heard about our misadventures, and know that the art fair biz is not for the faint of heart. So you’re forgiven if you don’t recognize the lady in the picture.
Yup, that’s me.
You may not realize this, but acting in community theatre productions is our favorite hobby. It was even one of the factors that brought the two of us together, over 20 years ago. We haven’t had much opportunity to indulge this pastime, since the little robots took over our lives a few years ago. But when the chance arose to BOTH be in the same play at the same time, we jumped at it. Even though it meant canceling plans to exhibit in Florida this winter. So, sorry Miami and Winter Park, but we’re wintering in Mesalia Ohio, fictional setting of George Kaufman and Moss Hart’s classic comedy, “The Man Who Came to Dinner”. Phil is playing Mr. Stanley, the long-suffering head of a household that has been plunged into HELL when famous critic, wit, and radio personality Sheridan Whiteside slips on the ice on their doorstep and is forced to recuperate at the Stanley house. As a parade of famous people come to visit the invalid, Whiteside’s secretary, Maggie, falls in love with a young man of the town. So Whiteside enlists Lorraine Sheldon, glamorous actress and diva bitch, to break up the budding romance. That’s me as Lorraine, feeling a bit too old to be playing the vamp, and definitely more fatale than femme. But the costumes are pretty, the cast is fabulous, and once I got a decent wig (the first one looked like someone had scalped Little Orphan Annie and made a yarmulke out of it) it’s been non-stop fun. My favorite part of the play—toward the end, when all are desperate to get rid of Lorraine, they finally lock her in a mummy case. Where I finally have four uninterrupted minutes of peace until I’m wheeled off. During one of the previews, a friend in the audience was texting me all through the show. So, I hid my phone in my pantyhose and texted her back from inside the sarcophagus. Now I’ll be updating my Facebook status from in there every night. Until I run out of things to say.
So, folks, do not be surprised if the next time you see me, I look NOTHING like the sexpot in the picture. Unless, of course, the next time you see me is at the theatre…