Tuesday, November 15, 2011
From The Mailbag: A "Fan" Tells Us What He *REALLY* Thinks of the Dick Monologues
Preface: Yesterday I sent out a note to previous Dick Monologues attendees giving them the heads up that our next show-- The Dick Monologues: You're What's Wrong with the Holidays-- is December 18th, at 6 pm at the Hyde Park Theatre. I instantly received a slew of reservations requests, which I only just now am getting to. Going through these emails, I came across the following note regarding a recent show we did which, apparently, the letter writer was less than enthused about. And, well, y'all know me and that silly Irish Buddhism of mine-- I just had to respond. My response follows the "fan" mail. Meanwhile, for those of you who want to waste your money and have the worst time of your life-- drop me an email to reserve your seats for the most horrible piece of theatre of all time. Hurry up. Seats are limited.
I have been meaning to write you and tell you what a terrible staging of Dick Monologues I sat through about 5 weeks ago. It certainly wasn't theatre by any stretch of the imagination. You all sat around on the stage looking very uncomfortable. And you, what's with the knitting? Not clever, not cute, certainly not theatrical. And you don't memorize lines, but just read from a piece of paper, real exciting. The show was less than amateurish. I've seen better shows performed by 5th graders. I've been involved in theatre for over 40 years and have never witnessed such trash. Maybe it's time to get serious about the future of your theatre, namely, everyone should look for a new career.
Wow— just read your email. Too bad you had such a bad time at the show. We started the Dick Monologues in 2007 as a one-night performance. The audience loved it and asked for us to bring it back. So we did. And we sold out our shows for two years before I retired it. Recently we did a reunion show— again, just for one night. Again, we sold out and the people asked for more. So I’m not sure what stick you have up your ass that you have to write a note like that tearing us to bits. It’s one thing if you don’t like the show— of course that’s your personal preference and just further illustrates the point De gustibus non disputandum est. However, if you hated the show that much you should’ve just grown a pair, pulled up your big boy panties and walked right on out and not sat through it. Life is short, Tom. What kind of idiot sits through 2.5 hours of such pain (unless, of course, you are practicing endurance and or adamant about writing a full start-to-finish review of The Tree of Life)? Also you should’ve asked for your money back. In fact, if you’ll send me your address, I’d be more than happy to refund your money. Heck, I’ll personally come to your house, crawl across your lawn, and lay it gently at your unhappy little feet.
As for what’s up with the knitting... Oh, I am SO SORRY my knitting offended you. I know, I know— I am such an asshole with the knitting. You’re not the first one to say so. I nearly got banned from Passover dinner last year with the in-laws because I wanted to bring my knitting and I guess that’s just a selfish thing to do. Yep-- it’s always me me me, knitting the chemo caps and the blankets for little babies and homemade gifts for my only son and, yes, even sometimes stuff for myself, thereby depriving slave factory workers from earning their daily pittance knitting things for me to buy at ridiculously low prices at big box corporate stores. I really am a pathetic excuse for a human. I am grateful you took the time to point this out. As of right now I will never knit again, so don’t even think about me finishing that nice pair of alpaca socks I had planned for your surprise Christmas gift.
You know, at first when I read your note I felt sort of outraged, like, WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY AND WHERE THE HELL DOES HE GET OFF? But then, I thought about your stunning creds— he’s been involved in theatre for 40 years so he must know what he’s talking about! Humbled here in the shadow of the vast theatrical resume you hinted at, naturally I could hardly resist the urge to google you. And I know that just because my search for your productions yielded ZERO returns that it is entirely possible that, like many big stars, you operate under a pseudonym. Or maybe it’s just that my 30+ years of experience as a journalist simply has not provided the research skills necessary to find what I’m looking for. Probably that’s it. That said, please put me on your mailing list. Because in addition to being the worst performer you’ve ever seen disgrace the stage, guess what? I’m a theatre critic here in Austin, too! And I would love an invitation to your next production. I’d be happy to return the favor of offering feedback. So please keep me in the loop.
Meanwhile, if you’d like to catch me performing without my knitting needles and without reading from the page, I hope you’ll catch The Moth at the Paramount Theatre on December 6th. The folks who put on the show apparently did not get your memo and made the decision to invite me to join them. Those fools!
Thanks again for your input. We’ll be sure to overhaul the show— or better yet simply cancel it— per your observations.
P.s. It’s too bad we’re going to have to cancel the show now because I have to hand it to you, you really inspired a great new Dick Monologue I’d love to read onstage someday.
Posted by Spike Gillespie at 6:53 PM