Saturday, May 14, 2016

Cruise Tips – 2nd Edition, Home Away From Home




I am on the final day of a Panama Canal cruise on DCL.  It has been wonderful, but a small case of homesickness has set in.  There are things to which I cannot wait to return.  Not that I’ve actually done anything to remedy my bittersweet yearnings  but if my shortcomings can help someone else I will not have suffered in vain. 

My top five tips to avoid homesickness:

  • Choose a stateroom that requires you to walk by a guest laundry area.  Sounds silly but the humid smell of drying clothes layered with a little fabreeze and bounce is like a quick trip home without sacrificing that evening’s trip to the buffet.
  • Set up a slide show on your computer or tablet loaded with pictures of the people you’re going to miss.
  • Sign up for international texting while you’re away.  It’s super affordable and my carrier allows unlimited photo and video messages.
  •  Bring a small infuser of your favorite scent.  No candles or incense on a ship, but this tip can help mingle your verandah room’s fresh ocean breeze with vanilla patchouli  juniper berry surprise.
  • Bring a t-shirt of hoodie emblazoned with your hometown or alma mater.  It starts conversations and helps you make new friends.  I stop everyone that has a WI “W” on their t-shirt.  Sadly many of them are from Wyoming or Washington, but every once in a while I get lucky.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

5 Things to Take on Your Next Cruise!

After over 150 cruises, I know how to prepare for sea voyage.  




5 simple things to consider:

Body!

  • Get ready for your trip and the possibility of eating more than usual.  A few weeks before your cruise hit the gym or take long walks.  Not only will you lose a little preventative weight, you'll build your stamina which will help protect your energy when exploring all the great ports.

Connect!

  • You won't have your usual cell service in most locations, but you'll need your phone for photos.  Internet service is available.  Set up iCloud Photo Sharing with friends.  You can maximize MBs by storing your photos there and your best friends and favorite family can see them immediately!

Sleep!

  • Bring a few office supply binder clips with you.  Most staterooms will have black-out curtains to help protect nap time.  The binders can make sure there are no gaps in the curtains - and ensure you get the best rest possible.

Nutrition!

  • You are not going to want for food - but you might control temptation by bringing some of your healthier favorites with you.  I always bring pistachios and enough protein bars to have at least one per day.


A Good Book!

  • There are going to be wonderful shows and amazing activities - but you need something to occupy you during those in-between times.  I hear people are saying good things about a new release called The Next Happiest Place on Earth.  It's available at www.gregtriggs.com.  





Sunday, March 27, 2016

Resurrection

If you accept the fact that Easter celebrates a man coming back to life you have to wonder why Jesus didn’t get to stick around for a few more days and have one more last supper. You have to wonder why His resurrection didn’t last longer. You have to wonder why it only happened once and just for God’s Son. You have to wonder why the all-generous God we’re taught about doesn’t do it for everyone. 

Johns Street was a holiday destination. The small house was always bursting with people, many of whom would have been alone if not for the warmth of my parents. Ray & Dorothy didn’t have much money but I never remember that being an issue. There was always plenty of food on the table; ham, broccoli, green beans, mashed potatoes, gravy that Mom never taught any of us to make, and the Lazy Susan.

Our table was small. It seated six at the most and with over twenty guests expanding horizontally wasn’t an option. Building vertically was the only choice. Our Lazy Susan was a black rotating dowel with ten golden teeth under which little glass bowls were secured. In those little bowls guests would find various relishes. Over the years Lazy Susan gave us Crab Apples, Pickled Herring, Black Olives, Planters Mixed Nuts and my Grandmother’s homemade Bread and Butter pickles.

I thought it was hilarious that it was called a Lazy Susan, as that is the name of my oldest sister. The name seemed like an indictment. Susan was lazy. HA! Hilarious to a child. As an adult I know she is anything but lazy. She's hardworking.  As a matter of fact, she's missing Easter today because she has to work.

When I was a child I used to worry that my Grandma's homemade pickles meant we were poor. Everyone would rave about her treats and I’d just roll my eyes wondering why we didn’t have ones that were advertised on television. I wanted Vlasic, not a mason jar filled with Emma Fiore’s best. Now every year or two I buy those and wonder why they don’t taste like my Grandma’s. 

I don’t remember guests using the front door. They’d always enter from the side. The door would stick, someone would pull from inside. Whoever was waiting outside would body check the door with one of their hips, unless they were too old to do so. Once inside they were immediately hit with a wall of humidity from the boiling potatoes. Fogged glasses would be taken off to be wiped on a shirt tail or a paper napkin from the holder made by Lil McKiernan at a senior citizen craft class.

Men would make their way into the living room to watch whatever was on television. Women would stay in the kitchen, often sitting on a green metal folding chair. The chairs were old and kind of beat up. The cushions were green. When they inevitably tore my folks patched them with green electrician’s tape that nearly matched. The tape would curl up and leave a little adhesive on the clothing of whoever sat down on those chairs. I don’t remember anyone ever noticing.  

Were those chairs mine, now, I would throw them out without thinking about it. Thirty years ago they were perfectly fine. In fact I favored them because they were more comfortable than the regular chairs and if they were in use the house was full of people I loved - people I'd do nearly anything to see one more time.


If only resurrection weren’t so selective.

Monday, March 7, 2016

Send in the Clowns

I was on COWBOY EDDIE'S TV CIRCUS a lot when I was a kid because my brother Art was the cameraman at WISC-tv Channel 3 in Madison, WI. I'd be called in when they were short a kid. For my effort I would be given a loaf of Wonder Bread, an orange drink from McDonald?s and a little camera time. Those that know me as an adult might think that I would love it. They would be wrong. It was never fun.

The host, a ventriloquist named Howie Olsen was mean. I don't suppose his dream was to introduce public domain and cheaply produced cartoons to kids on a snack break from chores on the farm. He was frustrated and took it out on the kids.

Howie would grumble into the studio about two minutes before airtime. He'd pull Cowboy Eddie out of a trunk stashed under the stage making no effort to protect the kid?s illusion that Eddie was real. One time Mr. Olsen told me to shut up on the air because I was talking to one of the other kids instead of listening to his lame jokes about Popeye the Sailor Man.

The worst part was when they would ask the featured kids the Question of the Day. I was always a featured kid because my brother worked there. The question was always related to a sponsor. My parents were instructed to coach me with answers before I came in.

"What's your favorite bread Greg?"

"What's your favorite treat at McDonald's?"

The circus came to town and the question was, "What are you looking forward to when the Ringling Brothers come to the Madison Coliseum next week?"

I had been told to say, "I love the clowns!" which I did but it was a lie. I hated them. I still do for the most part. To me clowns celebrate the moronic. Any idiot knows there is confetti in the bucket, that all those guys aren't going to fit in the little car and that the wooden beam needs to go through the doorway lengthwise, not across.

I came by my hatred of clowns early.

When I was about three I had a dream that my parents were having my birthday party at a church right by our old house on Rutledge Street. A clown was there and he carried a huge knife. I thought he was going to cut the cake. Instead he chased me through the church, eventually catching me on the altar and holding me down. Before he plunged the knife into me he pulled off his mask. It was my father. I woke up screaming.

Irrational fears not withstanding, I told Howie Boozehound Olsen that I couldn't wait for the freaking clowns to get to Madison.

As usually happens when you're on TV, people you know tune in to watch. For my birthday that year I got lots of clown figurines, all of which were placed on the bookshelf in my room keeping silent, creepy vigil as I slept.

In the morning I would go into the kitchen for a breakfast that included toasted slices of my paycheck making me a literal breadwinner for my family. I remember being proud that I was helping feed everyone.

WISC-tv Channel 3 in Madison, WI recently celebrated its 50th Anniversary. Howie Olsen has passed away but they brought Cowboy Eddie back for one day. I happened to be home and tuned in. It was good to see him again.

I did not miss Howie.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Hot & Cold

My parent's house on Johns Street would never be seen in Elle Decor. It was a simple home that wore contagious scars proudly. It was not a place defined by its style; rather it was defined by the people who lived there and what went on between them. Very often that was the opposite of what one would normally expect, but we and the house came by it naturally. It was the plumbing's fault. 

  

Every other home on the street got their hot water by turning a handle left.  Our handle had to be turned to the right. Cold was found in the other direction. I now find myself out of synch with bathrooms all over the world, forever expecting things to be found in the wrong direction.

Once the water was on it was scalding hot. Insanely hot. The hot water in my parent's house was the stuff of third degree burns. I'd come home from a week at camp adjusted to the real world and freeze when expecting a hot shower or burn myself as I reached for water assumed to be cold.

Johns Street was a place of opposites. It was normal to expect one thing and get another.  In its own odd way that worked. It prepares you for anything.

Monday, February 15, 2016

Railroaded

I am flying over Modesto, CA on my way to San Francisco where I will be performing in a show produced by Disney. I will be singing and joking about asphalt, every inch the artist I think of myself as being.  

I am playing Monopoly on my iPod. My brother Art, who is always lurking just a memory away taught me how to play this game a million years ago. As I am headed toward places he never went or saw, I am buying a railroad. The plane disappears. I am in my parent’s kitchen with Art.

The walls are a celery green, courtesy of paint left over from some remodeling job my Dad’s company did. The film of smoke and nicotine over it makes the celery appear closer to its expiration date than my parents may have intended. The round table on which we play is chipped, a reminder of the night my Dad threw it against a wall. That table will remain in the kitchen until the day after he dies, at which point I will buy my mother a new one.

I am 6, which means Art is 22, still young, still healthy. You would never imagine he’ll be gone in 15 years, but he will. We don't know that tonight or time might seem more precious.  


I shake the dice and end up on Short Line.

“Greg, always buy the railroads,” says my big brother. “Once I had almost all the properties. Richard had the four railroads and won.” Richard is the Nyborg’s youngest son. They live next door. He is the best friend Art will ever have. His mother Florence is my god-mother. Art is my god-father.  

Our families are very close. My Dad, my Mom, Florence, Art … Richard and I will be at all their funerals but no one is thinking of that right now. Tonight we throw dice and Art teaches me how to read them. Imagined or not I can see his eyes lighting up as I get the concepts, as I learn to count the money, as I come to understand games.

Art won’t make a lot of money in his lifetime. His fortune will always be in Monopoly money, for he loves games. When he dies he won’t even have the money for a VCR. We were going to buy him for the convalescence that never happened. I think of all this as I tell the iPod I want to buy Short Line Railroad, never having to touch the money or the dice as I play alone against a hard drive, alone in the sky.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

From the Archives - Out in Africa

A life in the arts can be an exhausting proposition. You have to use everything you are and everything you feel. If you don’t, that fear or denial or oppression, becomes part of the creative statement – because anything artistic is a synthesis of how the artist lives.

I recently did a show in Yaounde, Cameroon on the Western Coast of Africa. By reputation, and certainly by my experience, Cameroon is a very corrupt country. Bribing is a form of bartering, "Here are two thousand Francs. Don’t get in my way." You cannot brush your teeth with tap water unless you add bleach. Prostitution is legal. A white man can have his way with a prostitute for the cost of a beer.

A new friend, Marie, had a story about someone who had been pulled over by the police. While passing by, Marie stopped to make sure her friend was not in any danger. By the time she returned to her car, her cell phone was gone. Marie used another cell phone to call her own number. The sock of the policeman started to ring. When told this story, people laugh. There is no outrage. It is simply the nature of life in that country. There are very few things against the law in Yaounde.

However, being gay is a crime. That’s very frightening. Being there brought back feelings I have not had since high school. How do you know whom to trust? There were so many things I wanted to tell people about my life in America, but I wasn’t sure that I could let down my guard.

It was even worse when meeting another gay person. Did they know that life didn’t need to be that way? Did they know that living their lives out in the open was a viable option? Many of them had lived in, or visited the United States. They knew the difference and yet there they were staying. Work brought them to Yaounde, perhaps family keeps them there – reasoning I have no right to judge.

I was tentatively offered the chance to come back and work for a year. I would have no living expenses. There would be a spacious apartment a housekeeper and a personal guard. With international law, I might finally be able to adopt. My boyfriend even could come with me, no problem. I was told we would just have to be discreet. An intriguing offer, but in the end, not an option. Living my life that way was beyond my imagination. What if I upset someone? What if professionally jealousy got out of control? Retribution would be one simple phone call away. It conjured images of Matt and I tucked in for the evening and the police coming to get us for kissing goodnight. And stealing our cell phone too.

I met so many wonderful people in Cameroon. Open-minded missionaries, teachers, AIDS Epidemiologists, Ambassadors, Tribal Princes and International Industrialists – in spite of the law, I don’t think any of them, even the one’s that were very religious, gave a damn whether I was gay or straight. But, I couldn’t be sure. Doubt lingered and I hated myself for giving into it.

With all my precious paranoia intact, I performed with my friend Mary. We did a ninety minute improvised comedy show for an audience of about three hundred people. And the whole time I was thinking, "I AM ILLEGAL. I AM ILLEGAL. I AM A SEXUAL OUTLAW." Then the strangest thing happened. I was having fun doing the show. It was exciting. I had a secret and a delusional aura of mystery. It reminded me of being a pre-Stonewall homo – upstanding young man by day, living in the shadows by night. Who needed to emulate straight society and color within the lines? It was thrilling.

It lasted for about twenty minutes.

By the end of the show I was resenting having to slow down and think about what I was doing. Better to react to your instincts and concentrate on what you are saying rather than how you are saying it. I didn’t know the audience and they didn’t know me. I was too busy being scared of how people would react to me uncensored.

I don’t have time for that anymore. My show in Africa reminded me that I am fortunate. When I call the police, I can usually count on them to do the right thing. I can brush my teeth right from the tap and save the bleach for the coffee stains I choose to subject myself to. I can kiss my boyfriend goodnight and fantasize that it is a political statement. It’s my choice. For some reason I had to go to Africa to remember that I am lucky to live my life in the open.

From the Archives - National Endowment for the NBA

High school brings back scary memories, doesn’t it? It is hard to be a young gay man or woman navigating through the waters of public education. Grades 9 thru 12 are fraught with peer pressure and usually, pretending to be things you are not. Creative kids in the arts have it even worse. The athletic kids get all the attention, and all the money. They have manifest destiny on their side. They feel entitled. This is a scenario that follows us throughout our lives.

As proved by The Orlando Magic. They want a new arena. Our current facility, only eleven years old, is no longer good enough for them. The price tag is currently $250,000,000.00 and given our community history
with the new courthouse, it is sure to go higher due to missed deadlines and cost overruns. Let’s, just for the fun of it, say the construction would go 4% over estimates. That is a conservative guess. So, our new arena would cost $260,000,000.00. The Magic organization is willing to contribute $10,000,000.00, or, our Magic 4%!

Say you were out on a date and the bill was $100.00. You offer the restaurant $4.00 and expect a big smile from the manager. Realistic? I don’t think so. You buy a new car that carries a price tag of $20,000.00. Could you get it for $800.00? Not unless you lucked out and got a sixty-something , overweight, balding, closet case for a salesman and you were willing to break several laws in the backseat.

But, back to The Magic, Orlando’s NBA franchise. Hopefully without realizing it, they are continuing a pattern that we all grew up under the oppression of. These overgrown boys, running up and down the court in their long shorts, think that we should be willing to pay for basking in the reflection of their glory – a glory that has consistently faded over the past few years according to their profit margin. Why should we spend tax revenue on an arena for a business that is losing money? Why should education and roads and parks and public services suffer to build a facility in which only the giants are going to be allowed to play?

It also continues the pattern of leaving the arts out in the cold. I recently directed a play called MURDER IS A DRAG by John Graham, starring Louis Gravance, Tom Vazzana, Dennis Marsico, David Kelley and the author. Shame on you if you missed it. It was exceptional and people will be talking about it for years to come. The total price tag for this professional theatre production was about $6,000.00 all of which was put up by those involved. The play sold out every performance and a profit, entirely self-funded, was made.
Had we operated under the blatant arrogance of The Orlando Magic, we could have financed 41,666 productions and entertained audiences for 208,333 weeks or 4006 years. (You might want to check my math. I was a Drama Major.) Would that we assembled liberals had lived up to our public spending reputation. We could have asked for tax monies raised from the tourist trade and all quit our jobs at Disney.
The Orlando Magic, The Solar Bears, The Rage – they are all luxuries. We do not need them. The lifeblood of this community is theme parks and the service industry. These teams are just like any other business. They deserve to succeed or fail by virtue of their own hard work.

Perhaps a merger is required for The Orlando Magic to get what they claim they so desperately need. Sounds business logic says they need a sponsor from the corporate sector. It is easy to picture. The Magic could play their games at Sea World and get a new arena courtesy of Anhauser-Busch. They could build a court over the Shamu tank and get bigger crowds if the tourists were willing to stay after the killer whale’s performances.

Or, better yet, finally bridge the gap between the creative/gay kids and the jocks. The Orlando Magic should hire Dennis Rodman, the cross dressing legend of the NBA and get the Parliament House to sponsor the team. Games could be held in the courtyard and bored spectators could, when the Magic inevitably begin losing, play balcony bingo. Intermission would find the fans able to buy beer and Ecstasy in one convenient stop. After game entertainment could include a quick drag show and a dance mix or two.

In short, it is time for The Orlando Magic to start working with this community or make good on their threat to leave it. We have been bullied long enough. Don’t ask us to pay for the honor.

From the Archives - and then there's Bea Arthur

When I was a kid, I had this twisted little fantasy that the characters on television were my friends. I would talk to them and tell them what was troubling me. About the time I was 7, I realized they weren't talking back. But, I still found great comfort in TV.

Mary Richards was charming but rather antiseptic. Lucy Ricardo was zany but she would have been annoying to hang out with. I would have eventually had to yell at her. Edith Bunker was delightful but there was Archie to contend with.
    
And then there was Maude. She was the kind of broad you could go out drinking with. REAL drinks - no screwdrivers for her. It would be tequila shots or martinis late into the night with Maude. It would be fun. The conversation would be interesting - tantalizing, enterprising, anything but compromising. You knew who she was, because Beatrice Arthur played her so well.

As it turns out, Maude was just one credit on a very impressive resume. Miss Arthur created the role of Yenta in the original production of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF. She played Vera Charles and won a Tony in the musical version of MAME. After playing Maude, Bea went on to know even greater success as Dorothy Zbornak on THE GOLDEN GIRLS.

Her latest project is a show called, "And Then There's Bea" an homage to her career and life, a collection of songs and stories she will be performing in Melbourne at the King Center INSERT DATES HERE. She was nice enough to talk to WATERMARK and was a delight. Right on Maude!

May I call you Bea?
Certainly. May I call you Greg?
(Laughing) Yes you may Bea. It’s very nice to talk to you.
Thank you.

How did things start for you?
I went to The Dramatic Workshop of the New School in Manhattan, two years after Brando graduated Tony Curtis, Rod Stieger, Walter Matthau and Harry Belafonte were in my class.
And you….
It was a hell of a group. Everyone has done quite well.

What was your first professional show?
Oh God, I have no idea, some summer stock thing a million years ago. The thing that really launched my career was an Off-Broadway production, the United States premiere of THREE PENNY OPERA, in 1954.

Your television work didn’t start until you were 48 when you first appeared on ALL IN THE FAMILY. It was great watching actors that knew what they were doing. 
We didn’t just come off the street and start working in television. We were theatre actors. My experiences in television, which I talk about in the new show, were so rewarding. We worked with such great, talented writers and actors and directors.

Was it hard going on to an established show like ALL IN THE FAMILY?
Well by then Norman Lear and I were very good friends. He had seen me in an Off-Broadway and asked me to do a guest shot on ALL IN THE FAMILY. That’s how MAUDE started.

I was one of those kids that used television as a role model. MAUDE taught me that I had the right to be the person I wanted to be. 
Oh what a lovely thing to say. That makes me feel wonderful.

Which episode is your favorite?
Mmmmmm, that’s hard to say. Probably one with Bill Macy. It was Maude and Walter – just the two of us, getting ready to go a convention where he was supposed to get some sort of award.

The Tuckahoe Small Businessman of the Year Award.
Was that it?

I hope I am not scaring you with how much I remember.
Well this episode was at the height of the feminist movement and I was bitching about the fact that I was a woman and a second class citizen. The writing was brilliant.

The one that sticks out in my mind was when Maude goes into therapy.
Oh yes, the one-woman show. That was wonderful too. I also enjoyed the zany stuff that we did.

You did a lot of farce on MAUDE.
Yes and it was great fun. There were so many good actors on that show.

I loved Mrs. Naugatuck, Hermoine Gingold.
No, no, no that was Hermoine Badley.

Oh, sorry, I always confuse my Hermoines. What a stupid mistake.
She was a big, big, big star in British film and musical theatre. She was a wonderful actress.

And this was after MAME, correct?
Right.

Which you won a Tony Award for…
Oh yes. Yes I did.

I never got to see the stage version of MAME, but I enjoyed you in the film.
Oh God, no! You saw the film version of MAME? It’s horrible.

Well I enjoyed your performance in it.
I hated it. Absolutely hate the film of MAME. It was one of those things you get talked into doing. At the time, I was married to the director of the film. He said, "As my wife you owe it to me."

Oooh. Guilt trip.
I just felt that it was so badly miscast.

Perhaps Lucille Ball was not the right choice, but I am glad that it got your performance on film. When I think of Merman not getting to do the film of GYPSY
Now that was a glorious performance – such a beautiful show on Broadway.

We’ve talked about television, theatre and film – which medium is your favorite?
Well I tell you, I will not do another series. The work is just too demanding. You have five days in which to do what is basically a new one-act play. I prefer having the luxury of really working on something, taking it out of town and getting to polish it.

So you’re happy to be involved in theatre again?
Yes, it is much more rewarding; although, I would like to continue doing the occasional one shot thing.

You were very funny on MALCOLM IN THE MIDDLE
You know, I just won a comedy award for that.

Congratulations.
Well every five minutes there is an awards show but this was the American Comedy Award. That’s nice. It’s nice to be acknowledged.

They never really explained what happened to your character after she left in the ambulance, I hoped you’d come back. 
In the script that I originally read, the episode ended with the little boy sitting next to me with his hair dyed black. I look at him and say, "Now remember, from now on your name is Pepe." I thought it was wonderfully funny. But, of course they cut it – evidently kidnapping isn’t amusing.

But don’t you think that we tend to take things to the Nth degree
Well I can understand the kidnapping thing but I don’t think I would have touched it had I known the way it was going to end.

What did you do in the years between MAUDE and GOLDEN GIRLS?
With the advent of AIDS, there was always something to do. I did a number of benefits. Oh Greg, so many friends gone. We lost so many fine people in the entertainment industry.

While I was doing the FL AIDS Ride, I met a woman who lost her son before AIDS even had a name.
To think that there was a time when people wouldn’t even allow the word AIDS to be used in an obituary, and bodies weren’t being accepted by mortuaries. Horrible.

A new show must have been a blessing. How did the GOLDEN GIRLS get started?
I have no idea! My agent called me one day and said, "What’s this that I hear about you doing a new series on NBC?" I said, "I don’t know what you’re talking about." Apparently the script said "a Bea Arthur type". Eventually I got my hands on the script. It was so literate and so funny and so adult that I said to myself, I must do this. I had no idea at the time that it would become a cult classic. The really, hip gay guys – evidently they used to watch it wearing costumes at bars. What fun.

Was it difficult to get all of you to do an ensemble show?
Not at all. There were so many wonderful dynamics in that kind of show. I really came to love the relationship between Dorothy and her mother. It is one of the great relationships in all of entertainment. The difference in size, the whole love-hate thing, I just adored it.

Did television change much in the ten years between your two shows? 
Oh my God, I was amazed. Talk about pushing the envelope! We would fight the censors all the time on MAUDE. By the time GOLDEN GIRLS came along, anything goes! It was incredible some of the things that we got away with. I would read scripts and say, "We can’t do this," but we sure did!

Let’s talk about your current project. The title is?
Not my idea! Not my idea!

What’s it called?
The title is "And Then There’s Bea," underneath the title it says, "With Her Friend Billy Goldberg on the Piano". When people ask me what the show is like, I don’t know how hip you are or if you’re too young to get it, but I tell them it is Barbara Cook meets Redd Foxx.

Original music?
No, no, no – we just picked some songs that we liked, including several brilliant songs by Billy.

Such as?
Oh no, no, no. I shouldn’t give that away. People will have to come and see. I also tell some anecdotes. Hopefully the audience will find it as interesting and comforting as we have working on it. Billy and I have been getting together for almost four years. Through our talks and going through music we would add and delete things – a performance here, a performance there. I’ve never toured before, so I am very excited about that. It should be fun.

What is your life like these days?
Well right now I am up to my ass in this show. But when I am not working you will find me at home in Los Angeles with my two dogs, beautiful Dobermans, and reading and cooking.

Who were your role models?
Sid Caesar and Lotte Lenya. When you get to meet stars of that proportion, or work with them, you can’t help but be influenced.

Stardom is an interesting word. When did you first feel like you had made it? When did you first feel like a star?
THREE PENNY OPERA. Yes. That was it. I talk about this in the show. I was out on stage all by myself and I began my song, (singing) "I used to believe in the days I was pure…" and the audience started laughing. And I thought "Oh my God. This is kind of wonderful." I hadn’t realized that it was funny. It’s so wonderful when an audience surprises you.

Back then did you ever think that the gay community would come as far as it has?
Oh God no! Think about all the stuff that is happening in Vermont and now marriage in the Netherlands, that is incredible. Just wonderful.

We have spent so much time talking about the past. What do you want from the future?
The future? My future? Well, I would like to see this show get to Broadway. And until then, I am looking forward to seeing the country, meeting new people and audiences, having some great meals.

How do you think people see you?
Well, over the past few years, I’ve learned that people regard television stars as friends because we literally come into their living rooms. They’re very supportive and nice and sweet.

When you look back on your career, and this new show is certainly a forum for that, what have the greatest rewards been?
Greatest rewards?

What has given you the most satisfaction?
Knowing that I am not scared anymore. There’s no fear. I know who I am.

From the Archives - Me & Lily Tomlin

When I was a kid, we lived in a house that also housed my father's aluminum siding company. I was a lisping, fat, artistic, gay kid and every morning I would come downstairs to breakfast in a room full of siding applicators, roofers and construction men. It may have fueled a fantasy or two, but we never sat down to a cup of espresso and witty conversation about the plays of Noel Coward. I felt very alone sometimes.
One of the things that kept me company was the television. I would beg my parents to let me stay up late and watch tv. One show I never missed was LAUGH IN. I loved Ruth Buzzi. I adored Joanne Worley. But my favorite was Lily Tomlin because she made me laugh and think.

I remember watching Lily Tomlin and thinking it would be great to talk to her.

Now it is years later. I don't live in Wisconsin and I didn't take over my Dad's siding company. I am a performer doing improvisational sketch comedy at The Comedy Warehouse on Pleasure Island. And because actors like to talk about themselves, we sit around and discuss our artistic philosophies quite a bit. We talk about what inspired us along the way. The name that comes up more than any other is Lily Tomlin.
She has won Emmys for her CBS Television Specials. She has 2 Tonys. She has been nominated for an Oscar. Along with her partner Jane Wagner, they have continued to inspire people with theatrical productions such as THE SEARCH FOR SIGNS OF INTELLIGENT LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE.

Tomlin will be performing that piece along with some new material in Orlando and Tampa in October - nearly fifteen years after its original production. Audiences can look forward to meeting a myriad of crisp, wonderful characters, all of whom share a connection and remind us that we are all part of one greater whole. It reminds us that life is a constantly evolving. And that even if you're a homeless bag lady speaking to aliens that may or may not exist, life is an adventure and a surprise.

That is proven by the fact that I finally did get to talk to Lily Tomlin. What was supposed to be a twenty-minute phone interview turned into a ninety-minute conversation. And guess what? That kid back in Wisconsin was right. It was great talking to her.

I've been rereading THE SEARCH FOR SIGNS OF INTELLIGENT LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE and it brought back such wonderful memories of all those great characters.
Thank you.

My brother passed away right around the time that came out. And its sense of connection between all the characters was such a comfort to me.
Yes. The connectivity is an important part of that piece.

What can we expect to see when you come to Florida in October?
We put up some material for the students at the University of Southern California and they responded so much to the SEARCH material. The science, the connectivity … it all just seemed so relevant to them. Especially now at the end of the century. So we started projecting the material into the future. Jane and I got very excited to look at it from a new point of view. We never did SEARCH in certain parts of the country anyway and now there is this whole new generation of people. And we have an idea for a show that springs from SEARCH. But, in essence, right now we are doing SEARCH with kind of a projection into the future. 
But it is not a whole new show.

But that is the eventual goal?
Yes. And you will see some of that in this incarnation.

So this is the beginning of a workshop process?
Yes. We will be adding new material and polishing it as we go along.

When you look at these characters fifteen years later, I'm fifteen years older. You're fifteen years older. How does that affect your understanding of all the different characters you play in the show?
You bring all that new experience to it. And you have new perspective on your disappointments - for example, Geraldine Ferraro's nomination and the woman's movement. But I cannot even isolate it to any specific moments because THE SEARCH is more about wonder and dreams. It is about the failures and the dreams of this species. At least for me it is. It's about our humanity.

Not to isolate the show to one moment, but to do just that … the Ferraro allusion. I remember hoping that meant things were going change. That never happened. So when you look back at that theatrically, fifteen years later, you have a rather bittersweet moment. 
It was bittersweet then. It was a rather shallow, middlebrow gesture that didn't fulfill its promise. They were roundly beaten. I'll never forget that night -- the fact that a movement thinks this is some sort of statement, some kind of pinnacle and it can so quickly wash away. And then it leads us to something like Liddy Dole. 

That's ironic.

But what does it mean? What do you learn?
I guess it's the idea that movements are always naïve. It's the idealism that is bittersweet. The goal is coming to terms with your own humanity and your frailties. No matter what our feelings, our beliefs, our desires … we are just this one species and that we are pretty endangered. This biologist that I was talking to last night, an old friend, she's trying to save the Black Rhino and things like that. She said the Panda is basically lost. There's not enough bio-diversity for it to survive. There's no habitat. The habitats are getting smaller and smaller. And that is a reflection of us really - unless we do something about it.

So we have talked about the women's movement. We have talked about extinction and protecting a species. We have talked about evolution. Where do you the gay and lesbian community headed? 
I am not sure I can say where anything has led. Look at the women's movement. In some ways things are worse than ever … in terms of exploitation … in terms of permissiveness. And yet in some ways things have changed radically. Women have more opportunities and do more things. Young women see themselves in a larger context. And they don't even question that.

But with most movements, or groups, an activist movement, it's the same with all of them - feminist, black, anything. There's something righteousness about it, a naivete, a limitation. And that is necessary. Without that kind of activism nothing would change.
 
To me it's not about where the gay community is going to go. It's about where the species is going to go.

Which brings us back to connection.
I depend on movements and other people working to change the world and make it a little bit better. But, I don't see the division. It's not about one cause vs. another. It's about the whole wave of movement. It's about evolution.

Evolution. So do you think we are less isolated from each other than we used to be?
There's a lot more acceptance amongst a lot more people. But there are still those people who are just not tolerant. And, as far as I can tell, most of that is based in religion. There is always going to be a small group of people who have to deal with the fact that gay people are fighting for their rights. And being out and being open just calcifies the religious right even more. They can't handle it. They can't deal.

I was talking to my biologist friend last night. And she was just offered a teaching position in a Christian School. They wanted her to teach Creationism!

And you and I keep talking about evolution. I'm sure that school couldn't imagine how those two theories could work together.
To them there is only one right way. Only One anything. That they would think they are SO RIGHT. That they think any idea is so right that it can work for all people. But that is true of anyone that limits their vision. It isn't just about religion.

And that is different from your childhood?
I used to say in an old monologue about the people that lived in our old apartment building "And then there was Mimi and Betty who lived together and Betty wore men's shoes." I knew that there was something different about Betty and Mimi. They were very ostracized in the building. They had to isolate themselves to a certain degree. But, even as a child, I was terribly aware of them as a couple. I just didn't quite know what it was.

I loved that old era where people were really butch or femme. It was sort of great. I miss it.

I think it boils down to individuals being able to change quicker than a group can.  A Christian or conservative person can think there is nothing wrong with being gay but they are still identified by the power of this collective group trying to control other people's lives.
That is true in any group. Look at the gay community. As individuals, they are one thing, but when they are in a group, they change. Very often I am appalled at our Gay Pride Parades. What we choose to exhibit or make prominent … I disagree with it. It's so immature and overly sexualized. Everyone is pushing the sexuality in front of everyone when actually we should be pushing our humanity.

I always go to those things and wonder when the float that I would be on is finally going to show up.
And?

It never does. But that does bring us back to connection.
Exactly. And what is painful about that, is the direction that the culture has taken, the narcissism, the superficiality, the lack of connectivity, the "getting it for yourself" mentality.

I agree.
Trudy says in the beginning of the show, "You think evolution would have evolved into something better than survival of the fittest." We should all be more aware and see past small self-interest.

If you weren't a performer, I get the impression you would be a sociologist. Do you ever think about what you would be if you had never discovered performing?
I do. And I always think, "Oh God help me!" In college I was Pre-Medicine but believe me I wouldn't have been a good doctor. I did have a certain inclination toward science. But I wasn't what anyone would call a really good student. I developed narcolepsy when I started college. Whenever I would crack a book I would immediately fall asleep.

But that is just one way of learning. I would imagine in many other ways your were a very keen student.
Well I don't know what draws or leads us to what we do. I always put shows on when I was a kid. But when you say sociologist, you are right in a sense. I grew up in Detroit in a very working class neighborhood. Of course when you're a kid you think your place is the center of the Universe. Of course my family, we were poor southerners who came and fit right into our apartment building. As a result I would go into these old apartments and I would thrive in each one of these little hives of activity and social custom. Some were really educated. Some weren't. Some were politically radical. Some were very conservative. I was enthralled. I literally just played the room. Whatever they wanted, that's what I gave them. I just soaked them up.

I used to go and sit with this old couple, I was seven or eight years old, and they would literally have to think up ways to get rid of me. And I would just come back and knock on their door again so I could sit around and listen to them. That is the kind of kid I was. I was on fire.

Well we are talking about looking at the show years later. What is like when you go back to that neighborhood?
That whole neighborhood is pretty decimated. It was destroyed after the '67 riots and even now some of it is still boarded up. My old apartment house got burned and gutted in the riots. It's demolished now.

How does that feel?
Disorienting. We went back in the 70's. And we had lived in a basement apartment. And someone had kicked the cardboard in. I went back in. When I was a kid we had a 9x12 rug and it was like having wall to wall carpeting. The reality of how small it really was. And the fact that my Mom, Dad, brother and I had lived there for a long time. We lived there until I was fourteen.

What happened to your brother?
He makes furniture. But, Greg, he just started SINGING! Oh, he is so darling!. He is like a crooner. We went to one of those old piano bars where the regulars are singing and no one pays attention to them. There was this woman there singing, kicking up her legs and wearing a feather boa, right? The place is in chaos. And my brother gets up there, and the place got totally quiet because he is just so simple. He has such a simplicity about him. And it just made me weak, because it gives him such joy. That's what happens when someone loves something. I used to do the same thing when I was working on a character. I would be on the road driving from town to town working on something and I would record myself doing these characters. I just found a big box of tapes of me doing these characters. I'm just driving along with a tape recorder doing hours and hours of Edith Ann. That is what passion is.

The first time I ever saw you it was on my 11th birthday in Madison, WI. My sister gave me front row tickets to your show. You sucked on helium balloons and during intermission I stole them from the apron of the stage. I kept them in a scrapbook.
That reminds me of TEA WITH MUSSOLINI. I did that film with Maggie Smith. The first three times we had dinner I stole her cigarette butts.

That's big news for the paper. Maggie Smith smokes!
So does Joan Plowright. Judi Densch doesn't smoke as much as they do. Joan and Judi smoke between bites.

What was it like working with Zeferelli?
It was fun. Crazy. Frightening. He's 76 but he is like a 10 year old boy. Of course, he loved Cher's part so he would act it out for her. When I first read it the part was really nothing. When I first saw the script it was two lines … this Lesbian woman he remembered from his childhood. It reminded me of one of my favorite sayings. Ruth Gordon said, "If they can tell the story without your character, don't take the part." Franco just said, "Come to Italy. We will make the part bigger!" And so I did…

What was it like working with Robert Altman?
He's amazing. He cast the first two kids at the audition for NASHVILLE. Whatever is handed to him, he takes.

He's an improviser.
Yes. In NASHVILLE when you see Julie Christie or anyone else who showed up, he's just put them in the movie. He'll be at a party and just invite someone to stop by and shoot a scene. He said something brilliant to me once. "Just giggle and give in!"

The freedom to fail is so important.
Yes. It is. I used to have this little storefront in Los Angeles - I put a little theatre in there. It had 25 seats. I would send around leaflets, and they would say "LILY WORKING ON NEW MATERIAL!" You had to pass a little fan quiz to find out the address. Sure enough word got around and I got an audience. People would give feedback and it would be like, "Oh my God! Get rid of Agnes!" But I believed in something very important. The words. I believed in Jane's writing. I could never tell you what it is going to end up being, but I know I am committed to it. It's like when we were working on SEARCH. I would come home from the theatre and Jane would ask if I did the Carnegie Hall joke. I would always say NO. I just didn't get that old joke. But we kept working on it. And then it turned into such a wonderful moment.
We just kept at it 'til we got it right.