This was it. Such a long process, and yet it came down to a very quick week, and three even quicker nights.
I preceded the final show with an afternoon stroll through the Village with my family. Nice. And then it was a sprint back to
Now, there was a bit of controversy with my family attending the show: my sister is rather young (elementary school age), and I use a lot of profanity in the show (a needless amount for someone who never uses it in conversation. What was I trying to do, give Mamet a run for his money? I mean, I used the word “peloton” 16 times, but the f-word, and variations thereof, was apparently my favorite word, coming in with over 35 appearances.) I was adamant that she see the play along with the rest of the fam. Why should she miss out on a trip to NYC because of a few words her brother chose to use in his play—the whole reason for the trip in the first place? I don’t actually use them, and no one does at home…so what’s the risk of this one-time exposure? It’s art godammit! Alas, when everyone took their seats—I again a nervous wreck in the corner—she sat right there in the house next to Tim. Now, little did I know the affect her bored presence would have on the foul-mouthed inner monologue of one Max Richter pedaling right in front of her. Apparently, Ryan was hesitant to swear when he could plainly see a little girl in the house. I had an inkling this was going on during the show, and should have seen it coming beforehand, but I didn’t. One more lesson in producing.
Some minor hitches, but the final show presented things superbly.
And just like that, we grabbed our gear—bike, trainer, et al.—and stepped out into a rainy spring
And on Friday, May 1, 2009—11 weeks after its selection for the NY Amazing play festival, 85 days after I mailed my little play—King of the Mountain closed its first run.