Broadway West (Blogisode One)

Hello! Happy 2012, welcome back to regular readers and welcome to you newbies. Let’s start with a brief tutorial/reminder. Here at Sharon Wheatley’s My Own Space we tell stories in cliff hanging blogisodes, and they appear on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. On Tuesdays and Thursdays it’s dealer’s choice (note the Las Vegas lingo), which means no blogisode–I’m going off topic–and I will write about something that I’ve been thinking about or we will have a guest blogger. Weekends are off for you to do some catch up reading and for me to do laundry (and by “laundry” I mean “Pajamas” because that is what bloggers wear as often as much as humanly possible).

Okay, all that said, please note: The management of this page reserves the right to change her mind about the schedule at any time. It happens. Be prepared. Pop quizzes will be threatened but will not appear. I will talk about taking this for college credit, which is a lie. My job is to entertain you. Your job is to have fun.  Rules are meant to be broken.

Each blogisode starts with a quick run down of what ever is floating around in my mind at they moment.

Best Christmas present ever, blog friends.

Like….right now…..I am blogging in a way that is totally new to me….I am writing on the subway on an iPad with a keyboard attachment. A WHAT?  Are you now thinking that I am impressive and technologically savvy? I KNOW. I AM! But, because I try to tell the truth as much as is humanly possible, I must confess that my seventy-something father-in-law is the techno savvy guy who found this groovy iPad attachment and I am merely ripping off his idea and using it in my own best interest. If you have no idea what I am talking about, I will explain. iPads have touch keypads, not a traditional keyboard like a computer. This means iPads are great for surfing the web, reading books, playing games, watching TV and that kind of thing, but horrible for the more traditional word processing stuff because, as my father-in-law says, you can’t type with two hands, you’re stuck working it out one finger at a time.

Are you with me?  Can you imagine?  My blog posts would be seven words long.  “iPads are not for bloggers.  The End.”

So you are getting the point that, an iPad hasn’t ever done me any good because all I really ever do is blog and I need a keyboard to type quickly. Therefore, because I am constantly trying to squeeze blogging time into my busy schedule, I end up lugging around my giant computer everywhere (along with a purple physical therapy ball to work out the knots I get in my neck from carrying a giant bag).  There are a lot of places I can’t pull out an entire computer, but a little iPad is perfect….like right now for example….while I am riding on a subway car. We just passed 157th street. Don’t let me miss my stop or I will end up in the bowels of the Bronx with this fancy-dancy iPad and keyboard case.

And…..mugged.

This handy-dandy keyboard attachment means I will be able to blog intermittently without getting a curve in my spine from carrying a computer all day every day.   Isn’t that great? Thanks to Rob Meffe (also known as Rupert McFee on this blog and in poker games) for the kick ass Christmas present (the iPad is a hand me down, the keyboard case is new). I think the tag should have said, “To Sharon and all her readers” because it feels like a present for all of us. (Hey–we just stopped at 181st Street, start paying attention for me). Before you think Rob Meffe’s a Jesus-y Saint,  I will also tell you that for Christmas he got me a golden retriever puppy!!!!!!!…..

……calendar.

Because he is rotten to the core.

Uh.  Who wants a stupid calendar to hang on the wall and remind me 365 days of the year of the very thing I want but I don’t have.

Ooops. It’s my stop. More soon.

10:43pm and I’m back.  I’m on the couch and on my computer and I am ready to ante up and start this delicious Las Vegas tale.  The buffet is open 24 hours.  Let’s go.

We’ll begin with the definition of a Gypsy, straight from Free Online Dictionary.

Gyp·sy also Gip·sy  (jps)

n. pl. Gyp·sies also Gip·sies

1. A member of a people that arrived in Europe in migrations from northern India around the 14th century, now also

The Wheatley-Meffe Show Biz Gypsies

living in North America and Australia. Many Gypsy groups have preserved elements of their traditional culture, including an itinerant existence and the Romany language.

2. See Romany.

3. gypsy One inclined to a nomadic, unconventional way of life.

4. A person who moves from place to place as required for employment, especially:

    a. A part-time or temporary member of a college faculty.

    b. A member of the chorus line in a theater production.

 

A few years ago Charlotte asked me what a gypsy is and I said, “Us.  You know, people who pack up and move a lot.”  (See the intersection of # 4 and sub point b.  This is not to be confused with #3 because I like to think that our nomadic way of life is conventional in our unconventional business.  By the way, what is “Romany”?)
I have to confess, we have moved a lot.  If you are keeping score at home Rob and I have moved 8 times in our 20 year history, and that does not count the four national tours we’ve been on and the countless moves for out-of-town jobs.  I’ve been to every state in the union with the exception of Alaska and have stayed in every city in the United States with the exception of Houston, Texas.  Often my stays last weeks or even months.  LA, Washington D.C., Philly, Honolulu, Seattle, Ft. Lauderdale: the list is endless.
Rob and I love to travel and live in other cities, and we are good at it.  I can make a hotel room or a corporate apartment look like home in 5 minutes flat, as can most of my other gypsy/show biz type friends.  It’s an art. It comes with your union card.  It’s like how mothers can wash pots in scalding water and find lost things no one else can find–it’s a trick of the trade.

Proud to be a working Mommy...and willing to pay for the therapy.

For what ever reason, I am a person who gets asked for advice a lot, and it is often about how to be a Mom and an actress, and always, people want to know how I manage to work as an actress with a baby at home.  The truth is, I work in the exact same way every other working mother works–I have childcare and I go to work and I come home and that’s it–it’s just that I work weird hours and I work doubles on the weekend.  The REAL trick is how to manage all those pesky out-of town jobs and a baby….which actually isn’t nearly as hard as managing a school age child.  A baby, you can travel.  A kid in school?  That’s a lot tougher. Mostly, I avoid working out of town.  My agent knows what my boundaries are (I won’t leave the kids for longer that 10 days at a time, I can’t be put in housing where my kids aren’t allowed to visit….that kind of thing) and he is agreeable.  Usually it means I have a lot fewer auditions than my other friends because I am (and we joke about this) “Broadway Only”.

But every once in a while, a job comes a long that I am willing to break all the rules for.
Enter:  Avenue Q, The Las Vegas Company

(To read the next post in this series, go here).

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