Crazytown

IN MEMORIAM

Remembering my grandfather
By Gregory Jacobs-Roseman (Composer-Lyricist) 

I've been going back and forth on whether or not to post this on here. Part of me thinks it could be construed by some as being in poor taste and then part of me thinks there isn't a tribute greater than to share this speech on the internet and with the world. But three weeks after I buried my grandfather, there's a voice inside me begging me to share these words with you all, so I feel I must.

My grandfather and I at my bar mitzvah, May 4, 1996.

My grandfather passed away suddenly on April 29th. I was asked to give the eulogy at the funeral on May 3rd (which is super late for Jews -- usually we like to get the body in the ground ASAP). Miraculously, I was able to get though the whole thing that day without totally breaking down. My grandfather served in the Army in the 1950's. And while he did not pass away during his service in the military, this coming weekend being Memorial Day weekend I can think of no better way to honor his memory than to share the eulogy with you all. Remember to always spread love and put positive energy into the world, and if you enjoy alcohol, have a Dewars on the rocks this weekend. It was my grandfather's favorite.

Here goes: 

The drive from my grandparent’s apartment in Wilmington, Delaware to their beachside condo in Margate, New Jersey is roughly 80 miles and takes about an hour and a half depending on traffic. It's not a particularly long drive by any standard, unless you are a five year old kid with a short attention span, in which case it is the longest drive ever endured by humanity.

I can't tell you how many times I made that trip as a kid, but suffice to say it was a lot. My grandfather preferred to eschew the major highways, opting instead for the more scenic route. What I didn’t know at the time was that this was a particular stroke of genius when dealing with his young, tempestuous grandson, because dotted along the route he took were various "landmarks", as I liked to think of them. There was a giant wooden rocking chair. There was a house that displayed dozens of two-gallon jugs, painted different colors and arranged in different patterns each time you drove past. And when we’d approach one of these landmarks, my grandfather would point and say: ”Gregory!” - he always called me Gregory, never Greg - ”Gregory! Look! lt's the chair!” "Look, it’s the house!”

Looking back, I think those trips were the highlight of his summer. What he didn’t know was that they were the highlight of mine as well. The Trident gum I was given the moment I hopped into his Cadillac (which was a real treat given that my pediatric dentist mother despises all forms of gum). The mornings in Margate waking up to freshly squeezed orange juice in the kitchen. The evenings after spending a sun-soaked day on the beach listening to the surf rolling in from ten stories below.

RULES FOR LADIES: NYC EDITION

Not like regular rules. Cool rules.
By Alisha Giampola (Actor) 

Fellow ladies who live in this great city we call New York, here are some things I think we should be trying to be doing. I say "try" because according to Rule #8 in my list, one of the things we need to be doing is cutting ourselves a break occasionally. But nevertheless, in no particular order...

NYC LADIES...

- Own a slip.

- Handwrite thank you notes.

- Always remember that being overdressed feels better than being underdressed.

- Know that the above rule does not apply when at the laundromat. 

- Know that manicures here cost $9 and utilize them accordingly.

- Think that Starbucks is too expensive. Street coffee is 99 cents and tastes the same and comes in those awesome classic cups that make you feel cool.  

- Have a savings account. (Put that money not spent at Starbucks into it.)

- Cut themselves a break.

- Cut other people a break.

- Never take up more than one seat on the train. People who do this deserve to die horrible deaths. 

- Use correct grammar in text messages. 

- Know how to cook at least one thing that is delicious so they don't have to eat out every single night.

- Know how and when to gracefully say "no".

- Form their own opinions. 

- Do not wear leggings as pants if they are over the age of 19. 

- Own a hammer/screwdriver/wrench and know how to use them when necessary. 

- Can walk properly in heels. Even after a few drinks. (LADIES WHY ARE YOU TAKING YOUR HEELS OFF AND CARRYING THEM, WE LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY YOU WILL GET A STAPH INFECTION.)

- Have someone they can be totally honest with (mom, best friend, therapist).

- Always have these items in their closet: pencil skirt, broken in pair of jeans, cocktail dress that is ridiculously figure-flattering, well-cut blazer, classic pair of flats that go with anything, one set of totally unneccessary but gorgeous lingere.

- Aren't afraid of garlic.

- Aren't afraid of bleach.

- Know that Times Square is for tourists. 

- Can kill a cockroach (full disclaimer: Ladies, I am still working on this one too.)

- Read on the train.

- Find ways to be charitable (giving time is just as generous as giving money).

- Negotiate their salaries.

- Have learned that excellent and inexpensive haircuts can be had by going to an apprentice at a top salon.

- Carry an umbrella.

- Wear sunglasses to avoid eye contact on trains, conceal emotions from strangers while conducting emotional phone calls in public, and to block the glare of fifty billion windows reflecting the sun at noon. 

- Know how to find places to pee while out and about in the city and share this valuable knowledge with other ladies.

- Will try any cuisine at least once.

AN INTERVIEW WITH JILL GOLD, STAGE MANAGER [pt. 1]

A career stage manager discusses life, work, family, and bringing up the next generation of theatre tech professionals.
by Loren A. Roberts (guru of multi-hyphenate media)

Jill Gold calling the shots (on a prehistoric computer -- look at that thing!) for Les Miserables in the early 1990s. Fourth National Tour.

LR: I didn't doctor your latte at all.

JG: I didn't want it doctored! Thank you…

LR: I'm glad we got to talk…

JG: I'm glad too! I'm sorry it's taken so long; I'm in the middle of the hardest tech of my life…I'm exhausted! Ohmygosh, this latte is good, is this Europane?

LR: No, it's Coffee Gallery. [both local non-Starbucks coffee shops]

[We get interrupted by a phone call from her husband, who is performing with his quartet in Japan on a cruise ship…]

LR: You know, it's interesting that your husband called right now; you have a unique perspective as a theatre tech professional who also expertly manages a performing family…

JG: Some people might question the word "expertly"…[laughs]

LR: But I mean, that does become a consideration for many of us as we get older, marry, have families, and still participate in the industry. None of us have "9-to-5" jobs…

JG: Boring! But that's also what makes it work for me and my husband, because neither of us have 9-to-5 jobs; many times, if I'm working a 14-hour day on a show, he might not be, so one of us is still home. So it works out.

LR: I find that, because the economy has been so tight, I'm constantly accepting more work, and so the "downside" of not having that 9-to-5 is that I'm working all the time…

JG: …yeah, you can't turn anything down! This is my first Monday off in three and a half months, 'cuz I've been teaching in Redlands...

KINDNESS

Courtesy and thoughtfulness, even the simplest gesture of humanity, can make the whole world seem good again.
-By Leah Bonnema (Stand Up Comic) 

It was one of those days where everything was going wrong. I was running late to a spot because I'd spent obscene hours trying to get a claim processed through my insurance and as I darted down the subway stairs I remembered it was the day my weekly MTA pass expired. 

My train station no longer has an attendant so I walked up to the first of three machines to purchase a new MTA pass for the week. I soon found out that the vending machine was no longer accepting credit cards, debit cards OR bills. It was only accepting COINS. Now being that I did not have $30 in change on me I moved to the next machine. At this point I hear the loud speaker announce that my train was here, It's ok I tell myself There are more trains..

SHADOW OF A DOUBT

There can be miracles, if you believe...in yourself
By Sam Perwin

My parents, undoubtedly my biggest fans and most ardent supporters, came to see my show last weekend. Like true groupies, they always fly to see me wherever the fickle finger of regional theatre takes me. They're savvy theatergoers, and always have smart criticisms about whatever show I'm in, yet they're always kind and encouraging about my performance no matter how I feel it went. This has always been the case, so why is it that their presence made me so nervous before last Saturday's show? It always feels like when I perform for my family, I have something to prove.

As I'll reiterate, this is completely in my head. From the day I had enough courage to devote myself entirely to the business we call show, my parents have been nothing but overwhelmingly supportive. They're both lawyers, as is my sister, but I've never once had to deal with those awful "when are you going to get a real job?" conversations. I am not, sadly, Lauryn Hill in Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit. I know they believe in me and my talent; they come to see me in anything and everything I do; they've helped me out financially when I've needed it, and yet whenever they're in the audience I feel like I'm singing for my supper. What's that about?

Singing does not put food on the table...well, it does if you're Lauryn Hill...

Well, it's my own self-doubt, of course. My acting teacher, the amazing Karl Bury, likes to say that the two most loaded words any character can ever say are "mother" and "father." My parents have always had high expectations, and when I lived under their roof, I lived up to them. To a fault, I am a type-A, control-freak, overachiever because, I believe, my parents refused (in a good way!) to accept anything less than my best at anything I did. Clearly, I still feel that pressure every time I step on stage in front of them, and I worry that I'm not good enough to live to their and my own expectations.

HEY NYC, WHERE ARE WE DRINKING OUTSIDE THIS SUMMER?

Mother's Day happened, Arrested Development Season 4 is about to happen (!!!!!), and I'd just really like a cold beverage.
By Alisha Giampola (Actor) 

It's finally almost Memorial Day, and while I'm just as guilty as the next New Yorker of spending most of the summer defaulting to Blockheads, this city is full of absolutely fabulous places to get your drink on al fresco. Not the least of which, of course, is Central Park. Read this and learn how to not get caught while guzzling champagne out of a Whole Foods bag.

Or you could just go ahead and skip any unnecessary steps and have a sensible flight of beer IN a Whole Foods, like fellow Crazytowner and classy lady Erin Sjostrom and I are about to do in this picture. 

Out of this fantastic selection, which place am I most excited about? Gallow Green, obvi. My obsession with Sleep No More knows literally no bounds. They also recommend a few places I personally have been and loved, including Berry Park, which makes some of the best Dark and Stormys on the planet. This list is also pretty thorough and because they also repeat-recommend both Gallow Green and Berry Park, I feel like we can trust it.

Outdoor drinking is one of the good things New Yorkers have to compensate them for having to live in the sixth circle of hell that is New York City during the summer. And by that, I mean that temperatures on the subway platform actually rival the sixth circle of hell. 

Drinking inside in the summer is great too. That most sacred of New Yorker experiences, Brunch, is a great thing to enjoy in an air conditioned space, since you probably are going to have upwards of 5 beverages in front of you (coffee, juice, mimosa, water, bloody mary, tea, etc) and also possibly an omelette. 

 
I used to really like this song. And then I waited tables for a while.

FEELING LIKE A TRUE NEW YORKER

It's been eight years and I'm proud of it.
By Jen Littlefield (Choreographer/Librettist) 

There was a BuzzFeed article floating around the Book of Face recently called 23 Signs You've Lived In New York City Too Long. If you haven't read it, take a minute (it really will only take a minute, that's the beauty of these articles) and do so. I'll wait. Don't worry, I'll still be here when you get back. (Also, if you want an interesting read that involves less pictures, here is a profile about BuzzFeed and it's creator, Jonah Peretti in NYMag. The idea behind the site and what it aims to promote is really fascinating).

Ok, are you done? Great. Now let's break it down a little:

THE BRAVE ENOUGH TOUR: PART II

I'm living the rockstar life. I literally cannot count the number of hotel rooms I've destroyed, nor the number of psychotropic drugs I've been taking. Actually...
By Geoffrey Kidwell (actor)

I'm sitting in a park, along a river, in Kennewick, Washington.

Well, that's not entirely true.

 I'm actually writing this on Wednesday and you're reading this on Friday. The likelihood is that I'm on a bus somewhere on the West Coast right now.

Or the bus has been captured by Somali pirates - both are equally probable.

But the point is that I'm half way through Sara Bareilles' Brave Enough Tour.

I've been living on a big old tour bus for two weeks now, having a great adventure.

The experience hasn't been without its challenges, but for the most part I'm thrilled to be out on the road. I'm a regular Jack Kerouac - minus the cool car, beatnick clothes and Kristen Stewart's scowl.

It's a prety serious scowl.

A few things I've learned:

ROCKSTAHHHHHHH MOMS

In honor of Mother's Day (get to the Post Office y'all) I'd like to take a moment to recognize all the great moms out there and particularly my mom who I appreciate more than any Hallmark card can sum up.
-By Leah Bonnema (Stand Up Comic)

Those of you who know me personally, have been following Crazytown for a while or saw my show "Wake Up and Yell at Me" know that I almost lost my mom a few years back in a horrific car accident. Since getting what I consider to be a second chance, I make sure to be grateful for any time we get to spend together or even talk on the phone. Just knowing she is there I feel so lucky.

I remind myself of this when I'm upset about things that are trivial in comparison to having people in my life that love me and I love back. So Sunday, ideally every day, even though it might seem hack or cliche, let people know how much they mean to you. It is everything. 

Here are just a few of the things I love about my mom in no particular order:

• She will wax paper anything. 
• She and my father are artists and have been working for themselves for over 40 years. It's inspiring.
• She can find a way to bring poop into any conversation.
• She dressed me up as Rosie the Riveter when I was a kid, because, suffrage. 

• She has more compassion for humanity than anyone I have ever met.
• She talks through movies, creating her own soundtrack of "What" "Where do we know that person from" and a noise she makes with her lips when she doesn't approve. (And even though I'm always saying "Come on ma" I totally do it too.)

A GLIMPSE IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR

As the school year draws to a close, this writer reevaluates her relative position in the creative universe. Introspection, reflection, and pensive distance-gazing abound.
By Annissa Omran (Writer/College Student) 

I try to avoid turning these blog posts into virtual diary entries, but this week marks a big event that leaves me with no choice but to get a little personal.

As of the day this post is published, I will officially be done with my first year of college.

(This was my exact face almost a year ago when they told me that orientation would be comprised of three 12 hour days with no breaks)

Anna Kendrick and I totally were freshmen at the same time this year. She worked at the campus radio station, I worked in the campus computer labs. She helped an underdog a cappella group take the competition world by storm, I studied for biology exams. She made out with Skylar Astin, I watched Skylar Astin in the movie theater and cried over Spring Awakening flashbacks.

We were practically sisters!

(I swear she is me. If I were a rising actress, previous kisser of Skylar Astin, and a legitimate Twitter comedian extrordinare)

But all joking aside, this year has been a real eye-opener for me.

I went through a lot to end up where I am now. For starters, I went in thinking I knew EXACTLY what I was going to do with my life. I was that kid who brushed off the sage advice of guidance counselors and wizened upperclassmen.

Switch majors? Question my career path? Me? I was so certain that neither of these things would ever come to pass that I arrogantly ignored the advice that explained what to do if you did find yourself in an existential crisis.

Not only did I come to learn that I really had NO idea what I was doing with my life, but I also came to realize that what I thought was just a hobby turned out to be something I simply could not live without.