2005-11-12 - 12:34 p.m.
Clay and Eeyore, like oil and vinegar, make great vinaigrettes
Thanks to Jemock, for inspiring this blog entry. For in one of her recent entries at the OFC, Jemock reminded me of what this fandom is all about (think of her as kind of a dark spirit – wearing Clay’s discarded sparkly black suit, and occasionally flinging poo at the audience). Yes yes yes, the man has a beautiful voice, but aren’t we really all here to find our own personal Conn.ec.shun to Clay? I know I am.
Well, it doesn’t take much for me to find a personal connection to Clay, believe me. I’ve done it so many times, I’ve lost track. But after more than two long years, we finally have an artistic, more spiritual connection, y’all. See, Clay and I both took it upon ourselves, separately, yet not quite simultaneously, to start writing skits. Were we encouraged by others? No. Did anyone say, “Hey! That’s a great idea!?” No. Were we ever told that our writing isn’t really that good and we should probably stop doing it? Yes. (Right here on this very internet ~ another connection!) Will we both probably continue anyway? You betcha!
I actually wrote my latest skit right before the JNT2005 began. Except now I don’t call it a skit anymore. It’s actually a “vignette” y’all. Vignette is the French word for “short skit without any real plot movement or character development.” I had no idea that’s what I’d been writing all this time! And I can speak fluent French! Now, if only I could have an audience of thousands, instead of 10 or 12 (give or take, depending on my loyal readers’ parole conditions and hair appointments). And did you know that we both write in our pajamas? Clay writes on a laptop, and I write on a desktop, but I’m usually thinking of Clay’s lap throughout my entire creative process. Surely, that must count for something.
The connections don’t stop there. My latest “vignette” was my take on what Clay would do for his JNT05 vignettes…and the connections are eerie indeed. To wit:
Clay’s crabby old lady had a dead husband. My crabby old lady’s husband was played by Nick ~ who could be described as “lifeless.”
Clay’s little boy said that the crabby old lady smelled like “gasoline and onions.” My little boy said the crabby old lady smelled like “dust.” Well guess what? If you combine gasoline and onions, you get…wait for it ~ dust. Don’t believe me? Feel free to conduct your own at-home experiment ~ just make sure the onions are cooked, but well away from the flame when you add the gasoline.
Both our crabby old ladies told the little boy to close the door because it was cold outside. I can’t think of anything clever to say about this, other than Clay and I both probably grew up in frugal households. But in vignettes which otherwise say so little, we both found the time to say this.
Clay’s little boy gifted the old woman with an ornament his little sister made in pre-school. My little boy gifted the old woman with an ornament he made himself. It makes me happy to think that Clay may feel just as warm and fuzzy as I do when writing about unwrapping packages and Christmas balls. Actually…it makes me happy to think that Clay may be feeling anything warm and fuzzy period.
Clay’s main characters shared Christmas cookies, while my characters shared a lima bean pie. This is probably because I’ve been writing vignettes for about a year and half now, and am more willing to take artistic chances.
Clay’s characters sang a duet of Silver Bells, while mine sang a duet of Do You Hear What I Hear? Now, while I would have probably died on the spot if Clay and the crabby old lady sang that song on opening night, I do have to ultimately thank Clay for singing his choice with Allison Lawrence, as it has completely wiped out all memories of his previous incarnation of said duet with Kim Locke. May they never sing together again. Amen.
That’s quite a list of coincidences, isn’t it? But you haven’t heard the freakiest one yet. Are you ready….?
After the Seattle and Spokane IT concerts, two other Broads and I had to write a recap of our adventures (like how Clay took my phone in Seattle! Eeeeeeee! ~ sorry, but if I have to continue to carry around that dinosaur of a phone, I have to occasionally explain why I haven’t traded it in yet). Well, it’s kinda hard for three people to get together and write, so one of us had to “step up” (TM every contestant on The Apprentice who has then failed to do just that).
It would have seemed, well, famewhorish, if I’d admitted that the actual reason I wanted to write the recap was because I was in fact the biggest famewhore of the three of us. But ding-dangit, I know for a fact that Clay was waiting to hear what I had to say, to the exclusion of everything else – for goodness sakes, he didn’t even find the time to shave, he was practically immobilized by his anticipation of my response. Don’t be staring at my tiara like you’ve never seen one before.
Anyway, the reason I gave for “stepping up” and writing the recap (yes, you can still find it online) was that I was “the most comfortable wallowing in my own verbal diarrhea.” Clay’s little boy (who we all know represents Clay himself) claims to have “diarrhea of the mouth.” Clearly, we’re saying the same thing here; I just happen to have a much more severe case of it.
(Just give it time, Clay! You too can learn to say even less with more words! Call me!)
p.s. In case it’s not clear now, I positively LOVED every aspect of Clay’s show. My snark is always delivered with the greatest helping of affection. I love that man.
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