OK, I’ll admit it – while I’m on the road performing my shows I’m signed up for all sorts of web and blog alerts in an attempt to keep up with whatever cyber-buzz I may actually manage to get. And, of course, to see if anybody thinks I suck. In a way, it’s kinda my job to know these things.
You know how this works, of course – I get sent an email alerting me to any recent web or blog posts containing “Barry Smith” or “Jesus in Montana” or “American Squatter” or “High Heeled Fantasies.” Though that last one isn’t quite so work-related, I still consider it to be part of my job, somehow.
So, I just found this one today, from an Aspen Real Estate Blog, of all places. It contains the following sentence:
“Barry Smith is an Aspen local that gets quite a bit of press.”
Which, really, is a polite way of saying, “Barry Smith likes to see his name in print, so he spends a lot of time making sure it happens. If you don’t believe me, take this blog entry as an example – he’s already typed his full name 3 times, and he’s not even done with the entry yet. Sheesh.”
And I thought…yep…that pretty much sums me up at this point. Yikes.
I did my second performance of “American Squatter” yesterday, and it went well. The house was a bit small, but I honestly didn’t really think about it – everybody was really into it and I thought it was a great crowd and I did a pretty good show, considering I’m still settling into doing this new show. At one point I totally forgot what was next in the script, which is up there with the worst things that can happen, but I took a little breath and it came to me. It’s kinda nice to recover from these potential nose-dives, thought I’d be fine if it never, ever happened again. It was subtle, and I suspect that not many people noticed. Probably because they were too busy being mesmerized by my new costume.
The Geordie Space, where I’m performing, is a great venue. I specifically requested it again for this year, and would do so again next year. But there’s no air conditioning, and I’m starting to think that “Geordie” is French for “sauna.” So, when it came time to put on my “costume,” – jeans and a T-shirt, I thought, damn, it’s just too hot to even imagine pulling jeans over my legs, much less wearing them for the next hour under hot lights. I’m just gonna wear my shorts on stage.
I know this doesn’t seem like such a revelation, but that’s probably because you don’t know what I look like in shorts…
But now you do. See? See why this was a leap of faith on my part?
Look, people, when you have big, bulging, not-at-all scrawny or lily white calves like these, why hide them under a bushel? And if you have normal, average, not-at-all-freakishly big feet like these, why not wear clothes and shoes that draw maximum attention to them?
No, seriously, I want to know. Don’t answer that.