AKA Skit Night Outtakes
I was in the Sun Music Hall Green Room waiting to go on stage, taking notes with someone’s brown eyebrow pencil while listening to Rob (the emcee) tell jokes as the act before me tuned up their instruments. One of the stage managers asked me if I needed an extra chair and an extension cord which worried me because I was set to read poetry (unplugged). I munched some popcorn and then lay on the couch calming my nerves with the folksongs being sung by the musicians who were now playing (listen HERE). There was a guy stretched out on the couch across from me who seemed to be doing the same. It turns out that he was the one who needed an extension cord. He did a banjo skit, and from what I can tell, two banjos mated and had a baby banjo, which he played for the crowd.
Rob was in rare form. He asked if the microphone made him look fat and told the audience that the Blue Mountain School fundraiser Skit Night was to fund a class trip to D.C., but it was also to buy some new fish for the school fish tank because their teacher had sushi again last night. I was worried he might make a joke while announcing me but he was gracious from what I recall. I told him he was as good as Billy Crystal at the Academy Awards and I meant it. He’s an actor by trade.
I figured it was a good night to come out of the closet as a poet who also writes nursery rhymes, especially seeing that there were a lot of children in the audience and some of the rhymes had Floyd references and were written for past Blue Mountain alumni who were in their 20’s and 30’s now. Molly Morgan played the organ all night at the Pine Tavern … Jade forest rode his horse up and down the racecourse … and Joshua Johnny loved his mommy more than apricots and honey … is the way three of them started.
I also read a poem that I couldn’t decide whether to title it Fruit (W)Rap with or without the W, or Fruit Loop, or Slam Jam … I figure a fig is easier to figure / than three meanings of the word date / A lemon could be worthless / Prune could mean cut / A raisin is a grape / But a grapefruit is not … I remember when I wrote this poem and read it at my writer’s workshop; another writer looked at me and asked, Who are you?
I didn’t exactly break the camera but I gave it to Joe before I went on stage and as soon as he began to take a video, the memory card signaled it was full. That happened before I snapped this photo of my young friend Taja, who apparently was floored by the entertainment. I think he needs his own nursery rhyme.
Note: Look for the official write-up and photos in The Floyd Press this week, including one with Rob in a wig and apron.