TIME CRUNCH? IT’S ALWAYS CRUNCHING AND THE SHOW STILL GOES ON

Time crunch? No one’s got time for that.

Oh, wait.

If you’re like me, you’re either late or early getting places.

Mostly late, which always brings comments like, “Have you ever heard of time management?”

Yes, I have, and I’m getting better at it each time. But there’s still that problem:

The Time Crunch.

Some people run on a clock that says, “If you’re not early, you’re late.”

No one likes those people, the ones who think they know how to tell time better than a clock.

On time is on time, not some arbitrary time set by a control freak.

We all know how the big hands and little hands work.

And we all know it’s better to be early than late, unless you belong to a social clique who all understand the exact time to arrive late.

If that’s you, make a splash. If it’s not you, be early.

Timely Time Is On Time

Do people resent those who arrive late? Yes, they do.

Especially if the late person is the principal reason for a gathering.

Take a rock show for example.

You have a favorite band. They announce their tour dates and you buy a ticket.

But their opening act comes out late, plays long, and the headliner does little more than make an appearance, sing the hits, and wave goodbye.

That was Willie Nelson at McMenamin’s Edgefield Manor.

It was sad hearing Willie say, “I don’t know why, but they say you want to hear me, so here I am.”

I’ve heard Bob Dylan does shows where he gets it over with as fast as possible. Now Willie?

If the most important thing is bragging rights for who you’ve seen, then I’ve got my Willie.

He wasn’t vintage Willie, but who is vintage?

The idea is sharing time together at some point. And it’s enough.

Elder Time Crunch

In the theater world of make believe you are either one of two people in the building: part of the stage production, or part of the audience.

You’re either in front of the curtains, or behind the curtains.

The stage people work on a tight schedule. Why? Timing.

The audience had better get it together on the timing aspect, too. Why? Because they won’t be seated once the doors close and the curtain rises.

Actors learn lines, wear costumes, and emote.

The audience sits in a seat. They parked the car, had a drink, and found their seats.

What’s next?

Hopefully not a waste or time. Why is that important?

If you’ve been to a weekday matinee, the audience trends toward the elders with their gray hair, money to spend, and time to find out what’s next.

No one wants to see a dud, especially older people closer to the end than the beginning. See a bad show, then go home and die, is no one’s idea of a good theater date.

Hopefully the actors all understand the possibilities at a matinee and give their best effort and not go ‘load management’ and save their best acting for a later more important time.

The other groups at a matinee are school groups, young people with their lives in front of them.

Can a poorly done play ruin their appreciation for live theater the rest of their lives?

Call me dramatic, but everyone with something they don’t like has a ‘moment of no return.’

2

My wife and I were invited to her friend’s house for dinner.

She was the sister of a man my uncle knew.

The man had died of AIDS and left a large circle of friends.

About eight men were in the house for dinner that night.

I sat with them listening to conversation in the living room while my wife helped in the kitchen.

Apparently she was listening to the conversation too, and jumped during a lull:

“David is a coach for our kids’ teams.”

Which was true. I coached the heck out of youth sports, took it out there where few dare with two teams each season, every season, year round.

Instead of a burden with kids, it was one of the best times of my life. And here’s why:

I coached so kids could avoid the jackass dads who barely played sports and coached each game and practice like it was their personal Super Bowl / World Series.

Also to avoid the favoritism bad coaches use to give their kids playing time.

The conversation in the room picked up after hearing about my coaching.

Every man in the room had a story of why they didn’t like sports. It was either a PE teacher, or a little league dad/coach.

Each of them had been subjected the kind of treatment I coached to avoid. It was a sad confessional, a testimony on the lifelong pain shitty men coaching kids sports inflict on the innocent.

They all had their sports moment of no return etched into their memories.

No one needs that for theater.

My Time Crunch? It’s Not For Everybody

Over the years, I’ve had a few health issues to go along with everything else.

Strange? Not too strange. But, it’s hard telling young people, like millennials who are aging up nicely, how to avoid health issues.

“Oh, like you did?”

No, better.

“Early weight gain will flatten your feet and create mobility problems later in life?”

Get the fuck out of here.

“A family tree with diabetes on most every branch makes you more at risk?”

Tell someone who gives a shit.

“Punishing g children for mistakes without rewarding them for what they do right creates resentment.”

That’s how my parents raised me and I’m fine, fine I tell you. Coddler.

Okay, Boomer. It’s not all about you.

What To Pass Down?

Start with Shakespeare:

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”
As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7

Why Shakespeare? You’ll need something if someone you know asks, “What happened to you? You’ve changed.”

Pass down sad songs.

Why does it feel so good to sing a sad song?

Because you’re either not as sad as the song and you gain perspective.

Or, you feel worse than the sad song and decide to re-write it on the spot.

Either way, something happens.

After an eternity captured in three and half minutes you feel the singer is a fake, or you’re a fake.

Not a bad trade off.

Pass down memories. Hold the sugar.

Most important of all, show some enthusiasm, some joy, some love.

Show something other than your usual sour face.

“It’s not sour.”

We’re always the last to know these things. Why?

“Nature gives you the face you have at twenty. Life shapes the face you have at thirty. But at fifty you get the face you deserve.”

Look in the mirror and take notes. If you don’t leave a comment, I’ll understand.

What will I understand? I think you know.

But don’t hurry, there’s no time crunch.

Is there?