I'm Sorry If I Missed Your Show

I've long talked about how one of the problems with local-level theatre is that we really aren't reaching an audience. We're reaching our families, and friends who don't happen to have to perform that night. It's a sad state that the majority of the audience for most theatre companies is....other theatre people. It's the sad side-effect of working in a, sadly, dying art form.

I have no idea who these people are.

Of course, this also leads to the usual horse trading, "oh, I can still see your show?! Give me a Postcard! Fantastic, you know MY show is opening in three weeks. Here, let me get you a postcard." There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's natural, and, with utter sincerity, when I say I want to see your show, I really do.

Doesn't mean I always succeed. That said, I also want you to know that I feel really bad about missing shows I want to see.  I'm not a guy who says "I'll be there" lightly.

How stylish...I don't look that good laying on my ass.

But I'm also a guy who, when he plops his ass down on the couch, doesn't want to move. It's a terrible failing I have. It's why I get up at 5:30 AM to work out. If I come home after work, and I don't have rehearsal, I'm going to watch TV, or a movie, or play a game, until I fall asleep. I'm not proud of it, but...there you are.

I hope you don't take it personally that, after I close a show, I don't really want to go near a theatre for at least two weeks. I just want to be away from it. I know it's selfish, but I am weak that way.

Then, of course, you realize that show your friend's in, that you wanted to see, well, it's closing Sunday. Or worse, closed LAST Sunday. Now you're screwed, because you've made plans for dinner and a movie with the wife on Saturday. The guilt grows, and you feel like an ass.

So, yeah, I'm sorry if I missed your show.