No Phone

Early Friday morning, I awake. I check my list for the fifty third and (hopefully) final time. The unmarked boxes are for items I don’t think I’ll really be needing for this trip. I leave my apartment with two bags and two pillows. I jump into a cab and tell the driver “910 West 162nd street….wherever that is.”
He begins to move South along Central Park and I ask him if 162nd is South of 105th. He doesn’t understand. Once we reach 96th, he cuts through the park all the way West to that highway. We speed along through the chilly morning air. I love riding in cars. So peaceful. I arrive in front of Kevin’s house twenty minutes early for our 8:00am meeting g time. I contact him and let him know I am here. He did not expect anyone to me that early he confesses. He tells me he is at a diner down the street. I tell him to take his time as I am enjoying the gray, damp morning by myself just fine.
Soon, Kevin shows up and invites me in while he does some last minute stuff. He is driving one of the four cars to New Lebanon, New York where we will spend the weekend at the Theatre Barn. We have two performances of Lysistrata: The Musical to put on before this incarnation of the show is over.
One by one the others arrive. First, Scott (big and gay), then Ricky (clean cut, straight and in for more pussy than he can handle this summer…) and finally, Steven (slim and gay, bestest friends with Scott). These are to be those riding in the K Rock Mobile this weekend.
We stuff ourselves into Kevin’s Outback and get rolling. I made three mix CD’s for the trip. The first two discs containing songs like Jump in Line by Harry Bellefonte, Louie Louie by the Kingsmen, Chains of Love by Erasure, Sexx Laws by Beck and, of course, the Ultimate Mix Tape Song: Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen (a must for any CD being played for a group of people) and the third disc (which was not used) containing mellow songs in case we were all sleepy or not in the mood for rock.
The drive there was about three hours or so and it was excellent. I need to take more road trips. I mean, I hardly know these people and the trip was awesome, I can hardly imagine what a road trip with close friends would be like…
Everything was so lush and green yet subdued by the grayness of the day. It would have been tear jerking if I had not been singing the Duck Tales theme with the other four gentlemen.
Eventually, I handed navigation duties over to Ricky who has had experience and can read maps and see.
Once we saw the first barn, we realized that we were indeed no longer in Manhattan.
We arrive at a quaint little collection of pretty white trimmed house and farms around 11:40. We drive along the road where Theatre Barn is supposed to be located but find only regular barns. We also happen t pass a large lot filled with shed and things like it. A large sign proclaims “Shed Man”.
“Let’s ask the Shed Man for directions!!!” I scream. Kevin pulls into the parking lot and we step out of the car, snickering. It is evident within seconds that the man in front of us is, indeed, the Shed Man. It is also evident that he can tell we are from New York. It is further evident that he does not like New Yorkers.
He is, however, able to restrain his bile and tell us where the Barn is. We thank him, snicker and hop back in the car. A moment later, we are at the Theatre Barn and we are being greeted by Joan, the owner. She is a short, round woman who must smoke at least four packs a day to have achieved such a gravelly tone in her voice. Underneath the truck driving exterior, however, beats the heart of a mom. Let me paint a clearer picture if I may: If there were a zombie attack and Joan lost her arm somehow, she would gladly wield a pump action shotgun with one arm and holler “You think that’s gonna slow me down you undead cocksuckers?! Bring it on, you disintegrating fuckheads!!” She shows us the place, the green room, the dressing rooms and the rest of the theatre proper then introduces us to her husband, Abe. Abe rocks.
After ascertaining that we are the first to arrive of the 18 or so people in our party, Joan takes us to the cast house. Now, the cast house is pure rock. The cast house is a fourteen room house with an upstairs, downstairs and terrifying basement. There is a Friday the 13th vibe about it that emanates in waves from the place and we are all instantly exhilarated. I predict that at least three of us will be killed by a psychopath. The entire group at the time are certain I am the psychopath, but only time will tell. I pick a three bed room for Kevin, Rob and myself. After I set my bags down I hear several small chirping noises coming fro just above the window of our room. Turns out a birds nest, complete with five baby birds will serve as our alarm clock for this weekend. Awesome.
Slowly, the others arrive and unpack their stuff. We were told to bring bed stuff, shower stuff, money for food and everything. Someone mentioned that it might be colder here than in the city (I’ll get back to this), but no one mentioned that there is no cell phone service within three miles of the house. Whatever.
Once we all arrive, it’s time to hit the theatre and get acting. We do so and it feels very good with our new pianist (who can play ALL the notes on the page and well, too), our three new cast members (the aforementioned Ricky, Debra and Liz) and our new stage manager, Michelle.
After our brush up/run through, we scatter a bit and eventually return to the house. The evening is spent hanging out and bonding with several people in the cast including our director, our drummer and our house manager. It’s really amazing to have a group of people that get cooler the more you hang out with them. Some of you might remember that after the New York run of Lysistrata I was bummed about having such a close relationship with all these people and suddenly not seeing them again. Another part of me wondered if I would actually want to see them again, if the time we all spent together meant anything to anyone else. This weekend was an affirmation of just how cool these people were. Looking at the bunch of them now, I can think of three or four people I would actually hang out with. First off, Rob and Kevin I have already hung out with once or twice. Rob is the kind of guy who would be me in his usual circle. Him and I work together so well, it’s creepy. Together, we don’t even see the line let alone notice when we’ve crossed it. Kevin is the easily shocked type. Priceless. Then there’s Amy Garson. Almost everyone I know said she looked familiar (she played Tara in the play). She did stand-up comedy in NYC to two and a half years before stepping out because of nerves. But she is another one of those rare “funny girls”. Her and I share the same sense of humor and I look forward to hanging out with her some time soon. Then there’s Debra. She is Neo Leah and I love it.
Anyway, once we discovered there was a basement in the house, we all started telling ghost stories and freaking ourselves out. Then we all talked and drank and slept. At 2am I awoke to find myself dead. I could see my breath and recalled someone saying “It’s a bit colder here.” Well fucking thank you for being specific. I got little sleep that night and woke up early the next day for my 1pm call. For breakfast I ate white chocolate covered pretzels. We ran once, had some brush ups and then a break until the show at 8pm. After the rehearsal, we all went to a diner called Fresco where Eleanor (who had been at the Barn several times before) was pimping their stromboli’s like it was her job so I ordered one. Oh my sweet fucking erect God. This thing weighted about 8 pounds and I ate the whole fucking thing. After this act of food sex had taken place, I returned to the house for a quick nap before the show. I woke up about five minutes before call with my stromboli not even starting to digest. The show was amazing and my delivery of David’s line went from impassioned to furious. The audience ate it up with spoons. After the show, we went to Joan’s house for the cast party. My mind was neither erased nor whatever the verb I used last time, but it was very fun to watch people get smashed. I was unable to eat any of the wonderful food prepared because the stromboli was still in my throat, but the vibe was there. After the cast party proper was the cast party improper that took place in the cast house. It was wonderful relaxed fun. People mingling and chatting and laughing and bonding and all sorts of good vibe stuff. Eventually, we went to sleep, (me with two pairs of socks, three shirts and a pair of pants on) and woke the next afternoon in time for the 2pm show and after that we all said our goodbyes and piled into our respective cars and went home.
All in all, none of you now anything that went on and there’s no way for me to describe it to you. To be frank “You had to be there.” It was super fun and memorable, like summer camp while doing a play, but none of you will ever know exactly what it was like 100%. Just me. There were sheep and chicken wire and light sabers and Penis Dances and G.I. Joe PSA quoting and none of you will ever be able to experience that, even if I tell it to you in detail.
Man was it clear up there. Stars and air and trees.
Since I returned home all I’ve wanted to do is stare.
Sit and stare.
Philip will not be at the party this weekend.