We’re getting to the point where life gets busy. Really busy. In fact, the time you thought you had or would have you now realize was nothing more than a far-off fantasy and you begin to wonder if you will ever have even 30 minutes to just do nothing at all. Of course, that’s what you get for starting rehearsal and fatherhood all on the same day.

Rehearsals are getting more intense as well. I am going to try and keep you up to date on a daily basis from here on in (two weeks to go. Surely I can blog every day for two weeks, right? Right?!) Saturday was the first time we ran the entire show from beginning to end, and I have to tell you, I’m not sure I’m going to make it out of this run alive.

It’s wicked tough.

Even though rehearsals are 3-6 times a week (six, more recently) it isn’t enough for me to really nail the music. And while it’s 3-4 hours of rehearsal, I only get to sing once per song, and that really isn’t enough. Not even close.  So I sing at home, to the chagrin, I suspect, of my neighbors.

Even my family is effected. Hope has been wonderful. Her ear is much, much better than mine and can catch a rogue note faster than I can hide it.

“Nope.”
“What?!”
“You were sharp on that. About a half a step.”
“Where, on the beginning?”
“The beginning, the middle...the end if I hadn’t stopped you.”
“Well, I was going for sharp.”

I sang “The Confrontation” the other day in my living room and my 9-week old son fainted. One second he was hanging out, blowing bubbles with his mouth, the next second, nothing.

Apparently, babies have a defense mechanism that when they are over stimulated they just shut down. That’s why they can sleep through commotion, loud goings-on, and their dad’s practice.

Obviously the part of Jekyll/Hyde was a massive part of the show, but ska-dang. Murder is tiring work. And sweaty. This is the part I’m most concerned with, by the way. If I’m sweating as much as I am now, without the lights, without the 19th century London costumes, without the wig of long hair, without the adrenaline that comes from performing in front of a live audience, I deeply feel for both Emma and Lucy who will have to dodge sweat bombs to get near my face.

No, it shouldn’t be that bad. Maybe at the end, but that’s all. I’m seriously considering an ice vest to try and keep my core cooler during performances. Heck, if it works for race car drivers... What I am happy about is where we are with two weeks to go. With Another Story to Tell, we didn’t run the entire show until the day before the performance. The show ran great, but we didn’t get to work on a lot of the nuances I had hoped for.

This show will be nuanced.

Nuanced up the yu-danga-dang. I mean, we’re talking about members of the ensemble being able to give background on characters they created themselves and help ground the entire show with a stronger theme. Remember to watch carefully the hospital scenes at the beginning of the show. There’s some pretty remarkable stuff going on there.

Tonight we take the stage for the first time. Before tonight, we’ve worked in the rehearsal hall, a space about 30% smaller than the actual stage. It sounds like a step forward, and it is, eventually, but as Willy Wonka didn’t say, “You have to go back to move forward.”  We learn all the blocking again, re-space ourselves to fill the stage and learn where the levels are. Two steps exist on set where before there were none and we’ll have to learn to navigate them in three days.  Fortunately, I’m not in the busy, fast-paced, choreography, at least not until the very end, so the bulk of the concern is with folks who I have far greater confidence in, who is pretty much everyone else.

Saturday, I felt like I was going to sleep for 30 hours straight after running the entire show for the first time. Sunday, I felt like if I were asked to sit in an overstuffed chair on a stage and sing “Inchworm” I’d probably pass out. Today, I feel better. And despite my physical fatigue, my throat feels fantastic. It’s amazing what doesn’t hurt when you learn to do it right.  This is my first real experience as a lead in a musical, and, just so you know, it’s much more difficult than a straight play. Every solo, every song, takes so much more energy out of you than any given monologue. At least with this show. The passion and energy it takes to turn into Hyde, the emotion that must be emitted during “Take Me as I Am” and the commitment to the story...I’m telling you, if I don’t make it, you will now know why...