Manic Monday
By Steven Fales | March 21, 2011
My big birthday wish (aside from seeing my daughter recently in her school musical) was to see the musical THE BOOK OF MORMON on Broadway. My friend Victoria Moran (bestselling author of HOW TO LIVE A CHARMED LIFE) offered me a ticket. For tonight! These tickets are like $150! I wanted to go so badly. And with all my free stand-by flying (Thanks, United’s Ruben!) I wanted to take a last minute flight from current Las Vegas to NYC to get there. However, I am getting run down from all the recent travel to L.A. and Utah. I can’t afford to get sick. And I have a huge reading tomorrow night in Vegas for WHO’S YOUR DADDY? and a recording session to record a sound cue of “O Divine Redeemer” for the show tomorrow afternoon. And with funds tight for subway/airtrain . . . I had to cancel last minute. It’s too much. I NEED to see that show because of its obvious themes and too see just how far they will go to offend. But I can’t boil the ocean or burn the candle at both ends. I’ve gotta pace myself. So I hope Victoria can find someone to use the ticket. I’m sure she can. It’s one of the hottest tickets in town. And I hope I can get my cell phone turned back on soon! (Not a good thing to travel without communication!) It’s one of those times where your commitment to your art comes first and you are broke. And without my health and sanity, I have nothing. Getting on that flight this morning would have meant getting to JFK at 6:00pm with only two hours in rush hour to get to the theatre. It was all too manic, even if I flew my usual First Class. So THE BOOK OF MORMON will have to wait. I’ll find another way to get to see it. And First Class would have been annoyed at me running lines the whole flight!
I auditioned for the BoM musical last fall. I wasn’t cast. But it was good to dust my Equity card off. However, more and more I realize that with my third solo play coming up, being a solo performer takes enormous concentration. It’s all consuming. To audition for other things or to even teach (I applied for a position at Hunter College this winter, too!) at this point in my career takes me away from what I believe to be my life’s work, getting THE MORMON BOY TRILOGY born and off the ground and back off-Broadway. This is solo performance “art”. Down the line I have two solo shows CONVERSATIONS WITH HEAVENLY MOTHER: An Uncommon Diva, and JOSEPH III (son of Joseph Smith and Emma Smith) to do that I think will be so fun and poignant. Then I have my comedy and cabaret offerings. But my serious autobiographical work is what I’m here to do first. Not all understand. But I cannot do other things and get these off the ground. Ask the other major solo performing artists out there why they are not running to do ensemble work (Mike Daisy, Tim Miller, Danny Hoch, etc) or audition for projects other than their own. It takes everything to write and perform and produce yourself. Solo performance is a jealous mistress. The cast parties are lonely, but thrill of the performance challenge is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. It’s like playing the lead on top of the lead. It’s just you out their flying solo. And when you are soaring, it’s the ultimate in story-telling. It is pure theatre magic . . . and sometimes, gold. But sometimes, you crash. Over-exposure’s a bitch.
I really envy a lot of my colleagues sometimes doing leads in ensemble shows. Look at Will Swenson. We went to BYU together. (We were in a Church video together!) When I first got to New York I was in a staged reading of a musical at the York Theatre with him called Blood and Fire. I was actually the lead playing opposite Eden Espinosa (Wicked, Tony-nominated for Brooklyn). Will was the big featured lead. (Tony-nominated for Hair, etc.). I wonder what would have happened if I just kept auditioning for musicals like I was doing back in 2001. Instead, I started writing a solo show from my heart called Confessions of a Mormon Boy. Which has grown into Missionary Position and Who’s Your Daddy. (And that little cabaret act called Mormon American Princess.) I have two Mormon-themed shows to finish. The ensemble play Sacred Strain and the musical Saltair. Am I more a writer than a performer now?
I want to wish Will Swenson huge success as the lead in Priscilla, Queen of the Desert which opened last night on Broadway! I ran into him on the streets of Times Square last fall where we caught up just a bit. “Congratulations!” I’ll never forget him coming to a party I threw on the UWS with his then wife Amy and their little boy. He said, “Fales is living large!” Back then, I was.
So congrats to all those living their dreams on Broadway. I’m living a dream I never expected. It’s more like a calling. And I’ll catch up to Broadway yet. For now, I’ll keep it simple and keep working on my continued Off-Broadway dreams. I remember saying to my girlfriend Jillette at BYU’s theatre department, “I’m not here to be in the chorus.” But I didn’t mean to prophecy that I was going to perform alone!
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Greco-Mormon from Zakynthos
By Steven Fales | March 20, 2011
I have been doing a lot of research about my Greek heritage for my play WHO’S YOUR DADDY? I cried when I read about the early Greek immigrants in Utah. This was a side of my family I never knew about. What a colorful legacy. My grandfather was half Greek. And his father, Dennis Barbarigos, was deported back to Greece and was all but lost to our family. He died in Athens and was buried in a common grave. In my play, I reclaim my Greek side and my great-grandfather. He was from the Isle of Zakynthos. I want to go there someday. For now, we go there in a meditation-sequence desperate for answers and for fathers, who are an endangered species. WHO’S YOUR DADDY?
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Miss Dorothy
By Steven Fales | March 19, 2011
My daughter did a fantastic job as Miss Dorothy in her middle school musical Thoroughly Modern Millie. At thirteen she looks gorgeous first of all. Long beautiful limbs, a leading lady build, a great speaking voice, wonderful comic timing, natural acting (with just the right amount of style), and she looked like she was having so much fun. She danced and sang great, too. All in all, she shines. But what we have is a great actor developing up there. Acting first, and then the rest of the training will follow. I was so proud of her. She found her way to the theatre. And without anyone doing it for her. But she had the latent theatre gene. Look at her mom. Look at her dad. And yes, look at her Grandma Blossom.
My son and I had a great talk before the show. This kid is amazing! We talked about school and life and the family and I will see him and his sister in therapy next week (monthly session) and then see his lacrosse.
Special thanks to my sister for sitting next to me. I didn’t realize just how much support I had in her as a dad until last night. Love you, Cheryl.
Back to re-writes this morning. I am on fire to tell my story.
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Birthday
By Steven Fales | March 17, 2011
It’s my birthday and I’m flying to Salt Lake City to see my daughter in “Thouroughly Modern Millie.” She is playing “Miss Dorothy”. I love this musical. We would watch the movie version (the original) over and over as a young family. “Sad to be all alone in the world.” “Soy Sauce.” “Raspberry”. We know all the phrases and lyrics!
I love and adore my daughter and seeing her will be the best gift I could wish for on my birthday. (If only I could see one of my son’s lacrosse games today, too!)
Have a great St. Patrick’s Day everyone. Thanks for making my birthday so green!
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Today I Choose
By Steven Fales | March 16, 2011
This morning I’m thinking about how many times I have not chosen my values. I have “done” my values to please individuals and groups. Because I was raised in a cult-mentality, you could make the argument that even when I was being “good” I was actually pretending to be perfect to gain the approbation, support, admiration of the society in which I was living and acting. And I was afraid to be abandoned on all levels if I wasn’t. I have learned that cults leave me high and dry when I can’t deliver what they make you promise in overt and covert ways. Some are more cultish than others. But ultimately, you must choose your choices for yourself. Not based on defiance, but on your own volition. Values help you be your best self and to have your best life.
I believe I came to earth to gain a body and to learn to make good choices. I did not come to earth to be perfect. I came to experience. Through experience and making mistakes, we learn to make the best choice, not the black or white choice. I’m here to make the best choice based on my truth. Based on my experiences. Truth is relative. You must first embrace your truth. If it matches a collective truth, so be it. To thine own self be true. Know thyself.
This morning I CHOOSE:
1. I choose to be SOBER. Not because I want to please a group, my family, individuals, or gurus. I choose to not drink (even in First Class) or use crystal meth and GHB, because these substances (as fun as they are) actually impair me. They take away choice. And I want to be present and authentic and functioning. Life is too short to lose chunks of it. I am choosing sobriety (each day) not to please a sponsor or out of fear of going back to a day count or to be “kicked out”. I like the benefits of being sober. I choose to be sober for me. And I will do those things today that will keep me from that drink or that first hit. Because it is a HEALTHY CHOICE. And I will make healthy choices today. Especially since I am HIV positive, but not because of it. I want the spiritual, emotional, physical, mental, and financial benefits that come from sobriety.
2. Today I choose to live a chaste life. The word chaste is loaded. (Pun intended?) To me it does not mean to abstain from sex or be celibate. But it means that sex is integrated in my life in healthy ways. I choose to NOT be promiscuous. Promiscuity is highly addictive for me. It’s like a tsunami that takes me out to sea. It invites me to drink and use drugs because I have a very hard time having sex with people I do not know. And I trust the Universe will bring those lovers into my life in real time not in virtual reality. What I seek is emotional intimacy WITH sex. My last relationship showed me how wonderful sex is sober and safe and that “I love you” in the midst of passion is the best f*cking on the planet. All my committed, monogamous (on my end) relationships were like this. Promiscuity is a counterfeit. I stay away from porn which leads to hook up sites which leads to drug-driven sex which leads to needing a visit to the doctor and divorce! Yes, I can have sex. But I get to bridle my passion because I choose to make love. In the meantime, I get to have my life and pour all that passion into my art and kids. And if I have a slip, I DON’T BEAT MYSELF UP. And yes, I get to jack off when the tension is too much! Sorry Bishop Evans (may you rest in peace), I can still take the sacrament if I have taken care of my own needs this week. No more shame, but healthy sexual choices. By the way. Vanilla is a wonderful flavor. BUT IT SURE WAS FUN TRYING ALL THE OTHERS. I know the difference between promiscuous sex (that leave me empty) and making love (which fulfills me).
These are two important choices I can make today. And I’m gonna need a little help. I’m gonna ask God to help me keep my integrity and to keep me from harm or danger. To keep me from taking risks that lead to poor choices and to help prevent me from squandering the time, money, and energy it takes to act out. There comes a point where my ability to choose gets less and less. Once I login to a particular Web site, I allow myself to get sucked into old patterns. So I chose not to login. “One d*ck is too many and a thousand is never enough.” If I go to a “f*ck pad” thinking I can stay sober even if they are not, I’m fooling myself. “If I stay in the f*ck pad long enough, I’m gonna end up taking a hit.”
So “just for today” I don’t have to act out to escape my feelings or to avoid circumstances. I have tools I can use when I’m hungry, angry, lonely, tired, broke, and/or fabulous. I’ve been all five for months! Yikes! But the past is the past. We are speaking about TODAY.
I have come to understand that the “group” is not God. And though God can speak through an individual or a group, that is a far cry from BEING God. I also know that though God may dwell in part of me or speak through me or act through me, I am hardly that Power. God is God. And I need God to help me make the best choices. And to give me peace and serenity when there is none and where there seem to be no answers. A spiritual life, yes. A cult life, no.
So here’s to a good morning of memorizing and getting ready to go to Utah tomorrow for my birthday. I’ve got tons of administrative to do, too. Like press releases for Phoenix and the upcoming reading of WHO’S YOUR DADDY?
One thing I know is I cannot be the solo performer or artist I want to be with promiscuity and drugs or mini-boyfriends that take too much energy to maintain and are not gonna last. I need that energy to stay healthy as an HIV positive person. I need that energy for my career. And I need that energy for my two children. Down the line, we’ll add a partner. But not today. No way.
Morning Pages have become “Morning Blogging”. I hope you don’t think I’m trying to grandstand with these values. I am writing this today for me. I need to hear myself say it and see that I’ve written it. When all else Fales, make the best choice.
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L.A. Weekend
By Steven Fales | March 14, 2011
My weekend was quite lovely in Los Angeles. First Class flight to LAX where I met Ruben Sanchez. We went to the observation deck of the “theme building”, the iconic, space-age looking mid-century landmark there at LAX. So cool. And it’s FREE! We hung out and had coffee. Then off to WeHo where we had lunch with the natives. Beautiful people all over the place! Then we walked around Santa Monica Blvd. I ran into old boyfriend RJR with his new adopted son. Then ran into Michael Shephard of Celebration Theatre. Finally we ended up at DADDY at the Hudson Theatre.
I wanted to see DADDY because I’m writing my own WHO’S YOUR DADDY? Our plays are nothing alike. I love that there is room for all kinds of DADDY creativity.
But here is the thing about DADDY in L.A. I felt that the romantic comedy aspects were delightful. You want those two middle-age guys to finally commit to each other and become truly emotionally intimate. It’s great. But they do it at the expense of a young man that comes into their lives who they basically throw away.
I felt no empathy for the lead “DADDY”. I find it wreckless to sell your sperm in the first place. We need to be accountable for what lives we bring into the world. I’m not saying there’s not a place for a fertility clinic. But in this highly shocking story, the son that is made tracks down DADDY. And, well, DADDY falls in love with this kid in a two-dimensional relationship. And when DADDY finds out he’s literally f*cking his son. Well, this is the kind of revelation that in the Greek tradition would make DADDY gauge his eyes out. Instead, he has a moment of nausea. Folks, if I did that to my son I would probably kill myself. Or at least get into some therapy.
If you are going to insert an Oedipus-themed story into a romantic comedy, you better be prepared to keep us there another hour to fully develop the themes.
The young son was not a strong actor. The director totally made him look like a hot mess to begin with. And the DADDY in writing and direction was let off the hook.
Okay, good acting. Oh, but the staging. The most important, climactic scene took place way upstage.
Sigh. L.A.
But I love L.A. After meeting with some of the cast who I had met in Chicago, Ruben and I were off to a fun party with my dear friend Audrey. What a good time. Then off to Long Beach to spend the night at Audrey’s. And then all of us attended a wonderful Church service at MCCLA.
Metropolitan Community Church in L.A. has become my spiritual home. They have hung in there with me. I keep coming back. I feel known and loved and the sermons by Rev. Neil always inspire me and make me feel that God indeed loves me. I don’t have to search in between the lines of creeds and dogmas, at MCCLA, the love is direct and palpable. The sermon on Transformation was just awesome. So was the music.
After church we were off to cheap, delicious Thai food in Thai Town. Then back to LAX and now I’m writing in Vegas. I have a sound cue to record and lines to memorize.
Just got off the phone with my son. I caught him before school! I hope to see a LaCrosse game next week in Salt Lake City. This week is my daughter in THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLE! Miss Dorothy. I’m so proud.
I love life. Spring is definitely on its way.
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DADDY? Isn’t All About Sex
By Steven Fales | March 11, 2011
Or is it? You’ll just have to see how far we have to go . . . to see our kids!
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The Morning Pad
By Steven Fales | March 11, 2011
I have been doing “Morning Pages” for years now. Three pages in the morning (or afternoon!) of stream of consciousness based on suggestions from THE ARTIST’S WAY by Julia Cameron.
Lately, however, I have found that doing a “Morning Pad” is all I need. Especially with blogging, tweeting, FB, and such. My thoughts and energies are constantly flowing . . . in addition to creating my art.
I believe in intensive Morning Pages for times of unblocking, for times of intense inventory, or when you have the luxury of time.
With my busy life, however, I am finding that that much stream of consciousness does not ground my hypo-manic mind. I need a single pad of basic thoughts, actions, goals, and feelings. From there I jump into my day.
I’m all for the pages. But in a way the pages can get me stuck. They lead to this and that song or poem or play idea or insight. But I’m going for the pad now. Just don’t tell Julia Cameron. But she doesn’t blog, email, tweet, or FB. It’s a new generation of creativity. We are paging and padding all the time. Some of it drivel. But some of it golden.
Sometimes the medicine meant to help my perfectionism actually perpetuates it. I can see how perfect I’m trying to be by my handwriting in the pages. There’s nothing like handwriting from the heart. It is old-fashioned. But the keyboard cannot touch it. However, let me scribble on my pad. And see if I’m not only as creative, but more effective. So here’s to the scribble and squabble and scrabble on my morning pad and throughout the day.
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Chest Hair
By Steven Fales | March 11, 2011
I love chest hair. Love it. I don’t have a lot, myself. But boy do I love it on others. My last boyfriend (gosh I wanted to marry him!), had great body hair. I asked him if he wanted me to keep my chest hair and he said, “Don’t shave it.” So I have kept it growing. Until today. With just a few swipes of a blade it will be off. And so the hair I kept growing for him, will go smooth. Mormon Boy works better smooth. And I’m getting “camera ready”.
He had the most beautiful blonde hair on his head. I loved it. He knew I loved it. One day he buzzed it without warning. And then shaved it without warning! I thought, what a little twit. Not that he needed my permission to shave his head. But if I had kept my chest hair growing for him, what little I had, couldn’t he keep his gorgeous hair for me? He loved to have me rub my fingers through it. And one day it was just gone! Passive Aggressive? Or bi-polar? I couldn’t believe he would just shave it off without a single warning. It was the beginning of the end. Because all the cracks began to show after that. He pulled away. And then I pushed.
He had wanted me to shave my thinning hair. But I can’t until I retire doing Confessions of a Mormon Boy. I have to preserve a certain, special moment. But right now I’m getting in the shower and shaving my chest hair. For my ex-boyfriend. He looks sexy without his hair. But I fell in love with a guy with locks, not the “look”. I always say I fall in love with a person and not a type. So love me or leave me with hair or not. I’ll try to do the same . . . next time.
He still has my electric clippers . . . keep ‘em.
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O Divine Redeemer
By Steven Fales | March 11, 2011
Mo-Tab \”O Divine Redeemer\” Listen to the song.
I sang “O, Divine Redeemer” at my grandfather’s funeral in 2008. It was a very special moment for me and my family. For the first time in my excommunicated career I sang in a Mormon Church. And I meant every word of that song. “Ah, turn me not away, receive me, though unworthy.” It would be sung later that year at General Conference. And Prophet Monson would declare it his favorite song. I had sung the Prophet’s favorite song! The Sodomite!
Well, in my autobiographical style, I use recordings of me singing in my work. One is when I’m just 5. The other is when I am 9 singing at a cousin’s funeral (now my step brother). And so in WHO’S YOUR DADDY? I wanted to use the now “famous” recording of me singing it at my grandpa’s funeral. I’ve been meaning to get a copy of the CD for a long time now. I finally had a good reason. And in my play, I give such a good tribute to my grandfather.
So I approached my mother for a copy. Basically she said she would send it if I promised not to use it for anything public. She lives with my stripper-aunt who is writing her dad’s story . . . My work is a conflict of interest. (I learned all about sex work from my aunt . . . She first told me about how much money I could make as a sex-worker when I first came off my mission. So the seed was planted by a trusted family member.)
Anyway, I couldn’t promise not to use it publicly even though I feel I have every right. But no matter what I write my family will never approve. My dad still thinks I can change (he recently told me) and my mom thinks I should get remarried — to a woman (she’s told me that, too).
So I came up with a simple solution. I’ll re-record it. Here in Las Vegas with the help of my friends at UNLV. And if my mother ever sees WHO’S YOUR DADDY? She’ll see what a beautiful moment it will be re-living my Greco-Mormon grandpa’s funeral. Except it won’t be her playing the piano on the recording. Boy did we practice the hell out of that number.
I have a right to tell my story, even if no one in my family wants me to. It is actually a tribute to them. And for as grandiose and vainglorious as my family actually is . . . they should be loving it. The the proof will come in the money. I promise, if I were making money telling the truth . . . they would be contributing a whole lot more. DADDY isn’t finished yet.
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