Oklahoma! key dramatis personæ, from the left:

Cord Elam. The moral and emotional core of the Oklahoma! narrative. Basically the lead. Brags that he could eat a gatepost. No homo.

Will Parker. The clumsy—but alarmingly bendy—one who does his press junket splayed out on the floor like a common hussy. Couldn’t count to $50 if his potential marriage depended on it. Minor character at best.

Curly McLain. Sings about corn. Lies about fringe. Someone runs into his knife. Someone runs into his knife one time.

Come see me in Oklahoma!

You can see by our outfits that we are both cowboys

#Oklahoma! #CowboyHats #TheStreetsOfLaredo

I wear a lot of hats in Hello, Dolly!

Well, I wear TWO hats. But not at once, despite what this artfully composed self-portraiture might imply.

I also apparently wear lots of chins—even more than the number of hats on the elegant-millinery-shop prop table hiding behind me and my chins on this, our second quad-shredding, knee-crippling, calf-calving five-hour rehearsal day in a row.

So the key takeaway here is everything hurts and I’m dying AND I'M NOT DOING IT FOR MY HEALTH SO GET YOUR TICKETS AND COME SEE US AT THEATRE CEDAR RAPIDS.

Do you know why I’m betophatted and bekneepadded at our five-hour Hello, Dolly! rehearsal?

I’ll tell you why I’m betophatted and bekneepadded at our five-hour Hello, Dolly! rehearsal: Hello, Dolly! the musical is totally proper and elegant and shit, but Hello, Dolly! the choreography is a FULL-CONTACT SPORT.

Look, I made a run-on sentence

When you’re taking a rehearsal break and your Hello, Dolly! rehearsal hat that totally doesn’t fit ESPECIALLY totally doesn’t fit when you’re lying on the floor but it’s on the same blue-tone colorway spectrum as your shirt and it’s sitting on your head like you’re a Fosse Pilgrim and that’s coincidentally your band name and you need a photo for your eponymous album cover anyway so here we are.

Finishing the

Our second wave of Wee Elfin Toddler Rehearsal Hats That Look Like They Were Stolen From Wee Elfin Toddler Pilgrims Who Can’t Afford BucklesTM has arrived. So we’ve had to cancel Hello, Dolly! and replace it with Mayflower the Musical: Ephram and Obadiah’s Excellent Adventure.

The Theatre Cedar Rapids Box Office Will automatically transfer your tickets.

Miles of decorating progress

Since my stupid owie is preventing me from doing load-bearing things like moving furniture and crawling around on the floor touching up baseboards, I’m focusing my bedroom-redo energy on artsy-craftsy projects like découpaging LiveLaughLove cutouts on my ceiling and making an art installation of my running hats, bibs and medals. I had the brilliant idea of carrying that stupid Captain America shield—mostly hidden here under my Mickey-ear ball cap—on my arm for an entire 13.1 miles in the Disney Avengers Half Marathon, so it’s staying fully enshrined among my endurance running souvenirs, no matter how cheap and out of proportion it looks.

Things I found in my storage unit today PART III

• A nephew
• A bejeweled jacquard whorehouse lampshade
• A general lack of shame

The hottest guy in the gym just dug a Richter-scale booger out of his nose in front of me

Which totally knocks him off the top spot, and if I can score well in the cha-cha I can probably improve my ranking on the leader board.

Also: I just did ten unassisted triceps dips. That technically triples my advantage over Booger Boy.

I’m one bird-feathered fascinator and a barely attractive missing fiancé away from being Carrie Bradshaw!

We gays have the best stuff hidden away in our storage units

Apparently it’s International Back Day But Don’t Tell Jake Let Him Figure It Out For Himself When He Gets To The Gym

because all the back equipment is being used by guys who are way bigger than I am so I could never take them in a Back Equipment Smackdown! so I’m pecking-order relegated to the lesser back equipment and since nobody’s breaking down the back (HA!) door to use my lesser back equipment I have all the time in the world to sit on it and blog about my forlornity as my lats droop into my socks.

Also: I’m wearing a hat today. Which accidentally matches my shirt. Which is exactly why I never wear hats except in extreme hair emergencies; I’m too innately coordinated when I accessorize.

We’re badger hot in our Michael Jordon hats!

And I’m vagueblogging some Full Monty inside jokes!

Secrets of theater magic: Strippin’ Stuff!

1. Elastic shoelaces WHICH ARE THE SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT INVENTION OF THE THEATER SINCE STAGE LIGHTING THAT DOESN’T PERIODICALLY EXPLODE AND BURN YOU ALIVE IN FRONT OF A HORRIFIED AUDIENCE

2. Microphone pack hidden in hat BECAUSE LET’S BE SERIOUS WHERE THE HELL ELSE COULD YOU PUT IT?

3. Bright red thong with giant pop-off snaps BUT THAT’S ACTUALLY FROM MY PRIVATE COLLECTION SO IT DOESN’T REALLY COUNT AS *THEATER* MAGIC

Am I a backward-baseball-cap kind of guy? Because I’ve never thought I could pull the look off.

But the choreography at today's 9 to 5 rehearsal has a lot of port de bras (movement of the arms) that keeps knocking it (the cap) off my head (tête) (or cabeza) (or noggin). And I have five-alarm (humanity-endangering) hat hair, so I really have no choice but to keep it (the cap) on in some position.

Good night!

Tonight’s penultimate performance of Elf the Musical was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish

As we were waiting onstage for the overture, one of our little elves walked up and accused me of not knowing her name—rude!—and then I had to admit that she was right. And then in our big tappy finale, not one but two—TWO!—of my tap shoes came untied.

Existential. Horror.

I just hope I can salvage what’s left of my joy and dignity in tomorrow’s matinee, or all my Elf the Musical memories will carry with them the lingering stink of shame and potential OHSA violations.

We have an emergency elf hat magnetic-clipped to our upstage-right flylines scaffolding

Do YOU have an emergency elf hat magnetic-clipped to YOUR upstage-right flylines scaffolding? No. No, you do NOT have an emergency elf hat magnetic-clipped to your upstage-right flylines scaffolding. We totally win.

Sometimes a super-fast hat and tap-shoe change between the first big finale and the second big finale doesn’t leave you much time to take a decent selfie

Theater is stupid that way.