Monday, February 1, 2010

Ahoy Mateys!

We went to Old Sacramento last night to review an excellent show called Fiction at Capital Stage, a small theatre on the Delta King, a riverboat which floats on the Sacramento River.

To get to the boat, you walk along an uneven walkway, past the crowds of people waiting to get into Joe's Crab shack (it is rare when there is not a long line waiting to get in), then to the gangplank to the boat. You walk down the gangplank and then either down stairs or take the elevator down.

When we got to the boat, I was surprised to see the gangplank.

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That one in back is the one we usually walk down to get to the elevator! There has been so much rain that the river is high and the gangplank is now a steep climb up to get to the elevator!

The show was excellent and when it was over, we walked back to the parking lot. A group of people in pirate costumes crossed in front of us on the walkway and when we got to the parking lot, a group of pirates got into the elevator with us. I mentioned that on Facebook and someone asked if we were at the pirate festival.

What? Pirate Festival?

pirates.jpg (65948 bytes)

Yep. Pirates. Apparently they were all over Old Town last night. I hadn't known anything about it.

And I wouldn't have had any opportunity to know about it. You see, I'm so incredibly repressed that I have never been able to get into play acting. I don't talk like a pirate on Talk Like a Pirate Day. I never really enjoyed costume parties on Halloween.

The wonderful on-line group of women I've been friends with for some 15 years now periodically goes into fantasy parties, bring virtual hors d'oeuvres, drinking virtual drinks, and talking about the sorts of things they are doing at the party. I've never felt comfortable participating because I simply can't get into that mindset.

This repression is the thing that makes me totally unable to write fiction. People poo poo me when I say that and tell me I'm a good writer. Yes, but have you ever read any fiction that I've written? I have no imagination whatsoever. I once tried to write fiction for NaNoWriMo and it very quickly dissolved into barely fictionalized fact. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent!

I still remember the very early Lawsuit concert that I went to when someone from the audience made me get up and dance with him. I was right at the stage in front of everyone and just wanted to die. I was never so grateful to anyone as I was to Tom when he came up, cut in, gradually moved me back from the front of the stage and eventually slowed down so I could stop dancing. I so desperately wanted to let go and dance at Lawsuit concerts and just never could bring myself to do it.

I really admire people who can let go and get involved in things like pirate festivals or rennaissance faires. It's just not me. I've often wished it were me, but I just feel like I'm sticking out like a sore thumb and making a fool of myself. I don't have a clue where the outgoing kids we've raised came from. They certainly didn't get that from their mother, and not really from their father either (though Walt is a bit more outgoing than I am).

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