All Things Profane and Sacred

Yesterday we arranged to play things by ear with the couple who are renting our house after us. The male half of the couple does stagework for various shows around the Portland area. He ran lights for Cirque du Soleil when they were in town and said it was the most challenging show he had ever did. Lots of cues to memorize. Anyhow, the circus folk teased him throughout the show about how he needed to memorize not just his cues, but all the cues for the whole show so he could "call the cues" on the last day of the run. All through the run, he whaled on memorizing the cues, and on the last day he said, "Ok, I'm ready to call the cues." "Hardy ha ha ha," the circus folk replied, "We were just kidding!"

So, anyway, he called the cues that night, performing flawlessly. They were in awe of his prowess, and asked him to run away and join the circus. Apparently, they train folks for about 3 months to learn what he did in 3 weeks. Unfortunatly, he was about to have a baby, so the circus moved on without him.

It sounds like a sad poem about growing up. I would write it up if I was a poetry writing motherfucker, but instead I'll just put on my clothes and go to friggen work.