Can't stop won't stop!!

The last few weeks have been really fun and interesting. The run of Guys and Dolls at Barksdale is running really smoothly and we've had great houses for every show. We're running through August 17th, so don't miss your opportunity to check it out!!

Last weekend was particularly cool-- I went ahead and bought a Roughhouse 50cc Scooter from the fine folks at Scoot Richmond. Let me just tell you, I absolutely love it. The little guy gets me almost 100 Miles Per Gallon, and so far I've only had to fill it up once, that trip costing me a whopping $2.80. I can get wherever I need to go in town and have fun doing it. I don't need a motorcycle license for a 50cc scooter, but I plan on taking the 3-day Class M motorcycle course at DMV anyway, since I can definitely see myself upgrading to a Rattler 110 someday.

I ride the little guy to my SEAL Team workouts in the morning, and the other day I parked it next to Instructor Maguire's Hummer just for giggles. I also park it outside the theatre during the run of the show (With the giant chain on it) and the on-duty cops keep an eye on it.

Meanwhile, last Sunday, Mark Pershinger and I hosted our own Sports Radio Talk show on Sports Radio 910 here in Richmond as part of 'Walk-on-Week' to to benefit diabetes research. Mark and I had a blast as we talked about the ongoing Brett Favre drama and greatest Yankee Stadium Moments. Sports Radio 910 is currently asking their listeners to Vote for their favorite 'Walk on Week' hosts, and the winners will be asked to substitute for drive-time host Wes McElroy in late August. You can listen to an audio segment and vote for Mark and I by going Here.

On the athletic front, I have decided to postpone my 50-mile Ultramarathon because the hectic nature of my current schedule prevents me from training properly for such a huge undertaking. The last thing I want to do is attempt something so brutal without having done all the proper preparation. I'm a bit disappointed, but I just have to be realistic and accept that the time isn't right. So, instead, I will be running the Patrick Henry Half-Marathon on August 23rd, then assorted 5ks and community races, and then concentrate on improving my PR in the Richmond Marathon in November, a race which I hope to use as a fund raiser for the Theatre Artists Fund. I plan to shave at least 20 minutes to a half an hour off of my time and keep inching closer to a Boston Qualifier.

I have had a blast with races this summer, running the XDuro 21k Trail Run in June and the Camp Hilbert 'Six in the Sticks' race two weeks ago. The SEAL Team workouts are really paying strong dividends in the endurance department. The competitive nature of each workout makes you feel like you're running a race every day, and we all push each other to be faster, stronger and mentally tougher. I can't wait to do the workout tonight at 6pm at Dogwood Dell.

I'm also gearing up for the shooting days for Richard III, when we begin to shoot all of the 'Paid Political Advertisements' for the York Family which will be part of the audience experience during the presentation of the play. I was fitted for my 'Hump' recently, and I started to get really excited. This is actually going to happen, and I cannot wait.

And a quick reminder before I close, Theatre IV Softball will be held this coming Saturday, July 26th at 9:30 am at Thomas Jefferson High School at the corner of Grace and Malvern. We had eighteen people our first week, and we were able to field two teams and had a lot of fun. Hope to see you there!!

Best,

Scott Wichmann

Thank you, Liz Marks.

We lost another great one this weekend.

My friend, agent, and casting director, Liz Marks lost her valiant battle with cancer this past Sunday morning.

The last time I saw Liz was at a matinee of The Firehouse Cabaret, where she was just gushing over the performances of Jude Fageas and Alia Bisharat. I made the introductions, and Liz jumped right in, eager to get them both in front of the camera to audition for a Virginia Lottery spot.

Liz was so complementary and so encouraging to both of them that Jude and Alia left the Firehouse Theatre that day feeling like a million bucks. That's the power Liz had. She made you feel great about the human potential you possess-- She made you see that the sky is the limit, and believe me, she lived that mantra.

Liz took care of her actors, ever mindful of their needs and concerns. After talking to Jude and Alia that day, she apologized to me for not asking me to audition for the spot as well, worried that I'd be hurt or professionally offended. I certainly wasn't offended at all, seeing as how I probably wasn't right for the spot-- (I'm not in my teens anymore, after all)-- and having already done the Texas Hold 'Em Lottery spots a few years back, I knew that they probably needed fresh faces. Yet the fact that Liz cared enough to mention it speaks volumes about the way in which she went about her business.

Last year, Liz invited me to audition for the national Old Spice spot featuring Tony Stewart. I kept saying, "Liz, I have a show on one of the shoot dates!!" She said, "Just come!! Come audition!! It's a huge job!!" So, I auditioned. She kept saying "They love you-- they want to use you, they're just not sure in what role." Then, when I finally landed the spot, I found out by opening an email from Liz with the subject heading reading: "U DA MAN!!!" The message read simply: "WOOHOO!! BOOKED!! CALL ME!!" We high-fived one another when we saw each other again.

That Old Spice job allowed me to go home for my cousin's wedding last year, and it really helped us out over the lean times. I have only Liz to thank for the unforgettable time I shared with my family last august.

Her enthusiasm was infectious. Her tenacity and lust for life I will never, ever forget. For years, Jennie and I would run the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, and one year as we crossed the finish line, we could both hear Liz singing, in her brassiest, most inimitably inspiring way "I'M STILL HERE!!" under the pavilion... That's one of my favorite memories of Liz.

Liz Marks is an inspiration to many, and the toughness she displayed throughout her back-and-forth bout with cancer is beyond measure. I hope that if I ever have to face such circumstances, I will be able to reflect the same amazing combination of "Will and Grace."

Thank you, Liz Marks, for all you did for my career and my family. We miss you dearly as we honor your amazing life.

Sincerely,

Scott Wichmann and Jennifer Meharg.

Funeral arrangements can be viewed HERE.

THE BOSTON CELTICS WIN BANNER NUMBER SEVENTEEN!!!

I'm exhausted. Drained emotionally and giddy like a six year old who's been up way past his bedtime after watching a fireworks show. I'll be writing more about what this championship means to me soon, but in the meantime, I wanted to post a brief NBA Promo called "I REMEMBER" that chronicles fan reaction from the day last summer when the Celtic signed Kevin Garnett and officially turned their last-place ship around.

It is for me a goosebump-inducing piece, because I remember being absolutely giddy when the trade was announced, and I knew we were getting not only a special athlete, but one of those rare personalities in sports.

Kevin Garnett possesses a unique and unmatched brand of intensity, a personal humility and a great sense of basketball history. He knew what winning a championship in Boston would mean to us fans, and he bravely accepted the challenge with open arms. He also changed the culture on a previously defensively-challenged squad, winning the defensive player of the year award for 2008 and leading the Celtics to the best single-season turnaround in NBA history. The C's went from worst-to-first and showed us all that, in Mr. Garnett's own words, "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!!!"

I'll always remember the day we got Garnett. I almost jumped through the roof, because I knew good things were in store. Looks like my enthusiasm was justified...

Thank You, Instructor Maguire!!

I've just finished my first week with Richmond SEAL Team Physical training, and it ROCKS. Today I found myself river rafting with my team, swimming breast-stroke relays in the James River with my sneakers on, running through the woods, and doing push-ups in ninety-degree heat. This is gonna be a great summer.

I feel like a little kid.

I love my team, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE the program.

This entire week has been phenomenal.

My personal sit-up total almost doubled in just four days. I went from doing approximately 35 sit-ups(in two minutes) to 71, and I'm shooting for triple-figures next time. Hopefully when we 'test out' next Friday, I'll be in double-figures in pull-ups (They cast me in that American Family Fitness Commercial for a reason, you know!!) and I'll have made some serious progress with speed and endurance. The push-ups are still pretty tough, but the other people in the class have motivated me to do better and I eagerly look forward to each workout.

But I have to say, the single most motivational factor in SEAL Team PT is John Maguire, the founder and CEO of SEAL Team Physical Training. The guy is a born leader. He doesn't yell, he never, ever raises his voice. He is a master motivator, encouraging you to do your best and take care of your teammates. His quiet confidence and sense of humor rubs off on the whole team, and we have been infused with his spirit.

John's story is unique, uplifting, and inspiring. Please take a minute to watch the Emmy-nominated piece from WTVR reporter Greg McQuade which chronicles John's Incredible comeback last year from a spinal cord injury that could have left him paralyzed for life. If I can face everything in my life with even half of the positivity and determination he has shown, I'll never have any real problems as long as I live.

Thank you, Instructor Maguire!!

If you've ever wanted to begin a workout regimen, get in shape, lose weight, or simply challenge yourself, you would be hard-pressed to find a better team-based fitness program anywhere. Come and see for yourself!! For more information on Richmond SEAL Team Physical training, go here. HOO YA!!

"What the Heck Did I just get myself into??"

A few months ago, I attended a 'Bring-a-friend-day' at Richmond SEAL Team PT. The instructor, John Maguire, a former Navy SEAL, kicked our butts all over the Carillon with more push-ups, sit-ups, crunches and bear crawls than I have ever done in my life. We ran sprints, vaulted up stairs and played tug-of-war in an intense workout regimen of nonstop, high intensity boot-camp-style exercise.

It was HARD. Harder than any physical workout I've ever done, and that includes running 26.2 miles. Trust me when I say that this stuff was difficult.

At one point in the workout, after having forced us to do like thirty push-ups (About NINE of which I probably did correctly), Instructor Maguire barked at us to pair up quickly to do sit-ups. I made eye contact with a guy named James, a middle-aged guy with a hardcore countenance and a Triathlete's physique. Instructor Maguire counted down from 5 to 1. James grabbed me and attempted to interlock our legs into the team sit-up position, but my feet were still splayed out wide. James whispered sternly and sharply "Lock in your LEGS-- LOCK IN YOUR LEGS!!"

Instructor Maguire had finished counting down, and our little James/Scott team wasn't ready. So, as punishment for my sluggishness, Instructor Maguire made the whole class of thirty do-- you guessed it-- More push-ups.

Oops. My bad. I thought "Way to make friends with the class, Mister-'just-visiting'-guy."

After the push-ups, we gave 'Pairing up' another try, and this time, I think James and I were ready by the time John counted down from 5 to 4. I had learned!!

Then, I watched in stunned amazement as James rattled off, I kid you not, 111 sit-ups. I sat there, counting into the triple digits, mouth agape. This guy James was like a machine. Just when it looked like he couldn't go further, he kicked into another gear and attacked those sit-ups with even fiercer determination.

Then James said "Your turn."

I struggled mightily to eek out 35 out-of-breath, poorly formed, punk-ass sit-ups. James helped me with the final few by easing my elbows to my knees with his hands, making my meager total at least a teeny bit more respectable. Thanks, dude.

This guy James is my new hero, I thought.

So then, John says to the group-- "If you've just set a new sit-up personal record, stand up."

So I stood up.

Everybody laughed.

John said "Sit down, you don't have a PR yet."

I thought "like hell I don't!! I just wheezed my ass off for those 'whack 35,' I want some recognition!!"

James stood up. 111 sit-ups. I thought, He had to have started somewhere... Maybe someday I could knock out that many perfect sit-ups...Dude is in killer shape...

So, that's where the seed was planted...

That was back in March, when the temperature was in the mid-40s. I was right at the peak of my marathon training, and the running sections were almost like getting a brief respite from the push-ups, which I have never, ever been any good at. Back in the '80s when I was in elementary school gym class, we had the President's Physical Fitness Test, and I think the seventy-plus year-old President Reagan could do more push-ups than me, even though I probably weighed about sixty-two pounds.

So it was with some mild surprise that I found myself with the phone in my hand this afternoon, in the middle of registering for the SEAL Team PT two-week basic fitness class which starts this Monday, June 2nd at 9:30am. As I hung up the phone, I thought of that grueling mid-March workout. I thought of the high-80s temperatures forecast for the Richmond area next week. My next thought was "What the heck did I just get myself into??"

So, wish me luck as I embark on the two-week adventure of a lifetime. It's time to see if I can access that Extra-Gear that I want to get in touch with-- to push my limits and really impact my half-marathon time in the June 14 XDURO Trail Race.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to practice my HOO-YA!!

For more information about Richmond SEAL TEAM PT, visit their website or call (804)-262-1894

Promoting the heck outta GUYS AND DOLLS!!

Barksdale Theatre is really promoting the summer show at the Empire in a fast & furious manner, and I'm always glad to help out.

I was recently interviewed on B-103.7 FM to Promote the Barksdale Production of Guys and Dolls as part of the WMXB 'Listener Rewards Program.' You can here the brief interview via streaming audio here.

I'm playing Nathan Detroit, the super-squeezed, conniving crapshooter. It's a role I really love, and I'm having loads of fun in rehearsals. Barksdale Audiences are really lucky, as we've got Rachel Abrams (Adelaide) and Rita Markova (Sarah Brown) back from last year's production of Into the Woods, and LA-Based actor Jody Ashworth playing Sky Masterson. I'm also thrilled to finally be working with the uber-talented Jason Marks for the first time as 'Nicely-Nicely' Johnson.

Be sure to read my recent post on the Barksdale Theatre Blog for some fun rehearsal-related ruminations!!

Guys and Dolls opens June 13th and closes August 17th. Call 804-282-2620 for tickets and information!! Don't miss out!!!

Catching My Breath... With a few links.

The last few months for me have been a non-stop roller-coaster of rehearsals, auditions, performances and writing deadlines. I just finished the run of The FIREHOUSE THEATRE CABARET, a fast-paced, fun variety show at the Firehouse Theatre Project, which I had the privilege to both Direct AND appear in. You can read the recent STYLE review here.

Now, at the same time I was Directing and acting in The FTP CABARET, I was also Directing and Acting in a touring show for Theatre IV-- which I also wrote-- titled THE AIR WE SHARE. The show focused on alternative transportation, conservation, and environmental stewardship. Co-Produced by GRTC and Ridefinders (The local transit company), THE AIR WE SHARE was a rousing success. The show visited about 80 area schools and equipped students and their families with different tools to conserve energy and reduce our dependence on non-renewable fossil fuels.

The run of THE AIR WE SHARE was parallel to the run of the FTP CABARET, so on most weekdays I would get up at 6am, do two THE AIR WE SHARE shows, come home, take a nap, eat, then go to the Firehouse Theatre for an evening performance of the FTP CABARET. It was exhausting work, and I'm still kind of 'Zapped' from it all. To top it all off, my pal Eddie Garcia was in from LA filming a Movie, and he crashed on our couch for a month while Jennie studied feverishly to pass her Personal Training Certification Exam (She passed, by the way, and now she's kicking my BUTT!!) Throw in the two dogs and two cats in our small apartment, and the last few months have been eerily similar to the scene in that Marx Brothers Movie where twenty people fill a small Stateroom on a steamship. Pure Chaos.

Yet, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm really proud of the work I've been a part of recently. One of the most exciting parts about my new relationship with GRTC just arrived in my mailbox. See, out of the touring show experience arose the opportunity to write a comic book based on the TEAM RIDEFINDERS characters which GRTC has been pushing as part of their 'Clean Air Hero' campaign. I wrote the script for the comic book and lucked out when Pat Godfrey, owner/operator of Velocity Comics agreed to do the art work. I just received a copy of the book, and it looks great!!

My next writing project will be the book and lyrics for Theatre IV's tour THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF with Julie Fulcher penning the music. I'm excited to be collaborating with Julie again-- we worked together on the 2003 premiere of THE JUNGLE BOOK, a musical which Theatre IV toured around the country and Barksdale put on it's Mainstage. Julie always has fantastic ideas, and her spirit and humor make her a joy to work with.

This week I also started rehearsals for GUYS AND DOLLS at Barksdale Theatre. I'm playing Nathan Detroit, a role I had a lot of fun with eight years ago at Swift Creek Mill Theatre in Colonial Heights. I'm really enjoying the cast camaraderie, and Director Patti D'Beck's energy is a renewable resource. Girlfriend could power a small town. She's awesome, and she brings some serious Broadway credits to Barksdale.

Meanwhile, Director James Ricks has been going full steam ahead with preparations for our production of RICHARD III at Henley Street Theatre. The casting is complete, and I will say that now that this thing is going to happen, I'm starting to feel that trepidation that one must feel before one jumps out of an airplane. It is going to be hard work, this one, but I'm really looking forward to us pulling off something special, provocative, and unique.

On the athletic front, Jennie and I will be running the Richmond XTERRA on June 14th at Brown's Island. Jennie will be doing the XTERRA 10k (6.2 Miles) and I'll be doing the XDURO 21k (13.1 Miles). They are both Trail Races, with a high degree of challenging obstacles in the summer heat. I'm still looking towards the NORTH FACE ENDURANCE CHALLENGE 50-Miler in the fall, and the XDURO will be my first trail race since the Sixth Grade. Color me excited!!

Well, that's it for now-- I should be blogging with a little more regularity on things like sports, movies, music and life pretty soon. I'll have more stuff coming more often, so stay tuned!!

Best,

Scott Wichmann

SCOTT WICHMANN, MARATHON MAN!!!

I did it.

The Shamrock Marathon Virginia Beach.

Sunday, March 16th, 2008. My first Marathon.

Twenty-Six Miles, Three-Hundred Eighty Five Yards.

I DID it.

Oh, man. It was AWESOME.

I started out pacing myself really well-- Resisted the urge to speed up and just took it easy, running like a ten-minute pace; I hung out with the 4:15 Pace group at the start, then moved ahead of them at the midpoint... I loaded up on Gatorade early at every Aid station, and I also had my fuel belt. I brought two Powerade gels with me.

I used the port-a-john at mile 16 (I hadda go bafroom BAD) and then labored a bit through mile 17, victim of negative mental strife--perhaps the worst bi-product of any endurance event-- at which point I actually practiced Vipassana Meditation techniques-- centered on the breath-- and got through it.
(Thank you, Buddha!!)

I stuck to my plan, taking a gel with water at mile 18 and another at Mile 22, then got a major boost and hung in with the 4:15 pace crew through mile 23, before slowing down a bit the last three miles. I was just thinking, "One more mile. One more mile..." It was hard. Really hard. I have a newfound respect for the distance, the effort & the work ethic of those who run this thing at such insanely fast paces...

I gave it a strong finishing kick, and pumped up the crowd the last 100 yards or so. They were all cheering, and I took off my Sox cap and played to the crowd like I was Carl Yastrzemski!!

I had a blast.

I finished the 26.2 mile course with a time of 4:20:42, not bad for my first try. I guess I should say that--in all seriousness--I was a little bummed about my time, but I had been training by running my Long Runs at about a 4:30 Overall Marathon pace, so I guess I can count it as a ten-minute win!! Another plus for me is the fact that I never broke stride or stopped to walk (other than using the port-o-john) and I pushed it in the final few-hundred yards.

Now that I know how hard it is to actually finish, I want to get under 4:00 next time and just keep working hard each time out. I'll get to Boston one day, no matter if I'm Johnny Kelley's age when I do!!

All in all, in terms of setting a goal, sticking to a plan, overcoming fatigue and injuries, learning new things about my body and how it responds-- It was One of the best days OF MY LIFE!!!

I'm a MARATHON MAN!!! WAHOOOOOOOO!!!!

So, up next, me and Jennie are running the Henrico 5K on Saturday. My body responded really well to the rest the last four days, and I just did an easy two miler with a time of 16:08 this afternoon-- Just to see where I'm at. I'm currently trying to do lots of stretching, eating lots of pasta, and catching up on my sleep.

Now, my plan is-- brace yourself, folks--to work really hard all summer for my first ULTRAMARATHON. I'm running the 'North Face Endurance Challenge' 50-mile Race in DC on September 6th, in order to raise money for The Richmond Theatre Artists Fund... it's an emergency fund for theatre folk-- actors, designers, directors-- who have health emergencies and stuff. It is really important to the artists in this community. (I just hope I don't need to 'dip into the fund' as a result of the medical expenses I incur from running the race LOL!!!)

After that, I'm shooting for the Richmond Marathon on November 15th.

As for the '50-Miler,' I KNOW I can do it. Moreover, I WILL do it.

I'll have to train smart, train hard & get in the right mindset. Work on strengthening the core, hip & leg flexors & extensors, and break the race down into small pieces. Practice eating carbo-loaded food while running (pb&j, energy bars, pretzels, etc) and make a fuel plan for it.

I want to thank my wife, Jennifer for her help, support, and encouragement. She ran a few blocks with me at the end, and even endured a really bad stomach ache on race day, but she was there waiting for me in the cold with the camera, taking pictures and cheering me on.

I also want to thank Joy Williams for providing the inspiration to run this thing. Joy and I were in 'Moonlight and Magnolias' recently, and on the day of the Richmond Marathon last year, Joy was about two miles away from the finish line when she popped into rehearsals-- at Theatre IV's downtown space-- in her race gear and said "I just want to say hi!!" I was stunned and inspired that this incredible woman could find the strength and energy to pop into the rehearsal hall at mile 23 of a Marathon. Unbelievable.

And lastly, a special thanks to my friend, Floyd Atkins, the 'Race Guru' in Seattle, Washington. The one thing Floyd said that resonated with me the most was "Run the race, don't let the race run you." If I had a mantra going into it, that was it.

I could hear that in my head the entire time. Thanks, buddy.

I'm freaking addicted now. I just had the time of my life.

This is just the beginning.

The Role of A Lifetime at Henley Street Theatre.

"I can add colors to the chameleon,
change shape with Proteus for advantages,
And set the murderous Machiavel to school.

Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Tut, were it further off, I'll pluck it down."

I remember November of 1997. I was working as a day laborer for my cousin's construction business in Leesburg, VA. I toiled from sunup to sundown, laying bricks and doing spot-work with a group of migrant workers who didn't speak much English. I was reading a lot of Shakespeare at the time, and I kept practicing the above speech of Richard's from Henry VI, Part 3, Act III Scene ii. Over and over again. The guys I worked with just kind of stared at me. Either it was the language barrier, or I must have really sucked.

At the time, I had just finished a run as 'Northrup' at Busch Gardens Williamsburg, and I was staying with my cousin to plot my next move and make (very little) money. I was also sending out headshots and resumes all over the place, but no one was hiring me, much less inviting me to audition for anything. It was truly 'The Winter of my discontent.' I felt like I couldn't get arrested if I tried. Things weren't going my way. A production of Cabaret-- that I was almost involved with-- became extended as a tour, and eventually moved from Sheffield MA to Boston, netting the non-union cast members their AEA Memberships, while I looked on enviously from a construction site in Virginia. Bad times.

Desperate to do some good work, I sent a headshot/resume to Shakespeare & Company in Lenox, MA, one town over from my hometown of Pittsfield. I placed a follow-up call to see if they got my materials, only to be told by someone there:

"I'm sorry, but we don't hire any actors who haven't completed our training course."

"Well, excuse ME!" I thought. I felt stonewalled at every turn, frustrated, and eager to prove myself. I was renting Shakespeare movies at night-- Olivier's 'Hamlet,' all the Kenneth Branaugh films, from Henry V to Hamlet to Much Ado-- and digging ditches and moving equipment by day. I bought a book of all of Shakespeare's plays and immersed myself in them, chewing up speeches and dreaming of playing everything in the canon while I cleaned up during walk-thrus of overpriced houses made for rich people I would never meet. I was very unhappy. All I wanted was to be taken seriously as an actor. I wanted to do good work in an environment where I felt comfortable and welcome. And I wanted to play many roles in Shakespeare's works, and I wanted to do them justice.

Eventually, I landed in Richmond, VA. I soon began a great working relationship with many theatres in town, including The Richmond Shakespeare Festival. Before I knew it, I had a job playing 'Malvolio' in a tour of Twelfth Night where I started dating my 'Olivia,' a sweet gal by the name of Jennifer Meharg, who is now my wife. As I write this almost 11 years later, I have added to my Shakespeare credits: Don Pedro in Much Ado, Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, The Gravedigger in Hamlet, Stephano in The Tempest, Bottom in Midsummer (Twice!!) and Grumio in The Taming of the Shrew.

Quite a lineup for a guy who just a few short years prior was told he'd have to take classes in order to play with the other kids, no? Looking back, it is quite a mix. I played the statesman, the warrior, the jester, the death-dealer, the villain, the Ass (TWICE!!) and the Clown. Of course, all along, there was still one role I was dying to play. The character whose speeches I muttered under my breath as I carried a wheelbarrow full of bricks beside a tired old Guatemalan man who was probably wishing I would just shut up. One role that I always felt would combine aspects of all of the ones listed above. One role of which I always said, "I've got to do this someday, and do it WELL."

The role I wanted to do most of all?

Richard III.

It has often been called 'The Character Actor's Hamlet.' A tour-de force role that puts enormous physical, vocal and emotional demands on anyone who attempts it. Some of the best actors in the world have thrown themselves into it. Burbage. Olivier. Barrymore. Ian Holm. Ron Cook. Anthony Sher. Al Pacino. Robert Lindsay. Ian McKellan. Plus countless others who aren't household names, but whose artistic lives have surely been made more frustratingly wonderful by their time spent hacking through the 'Thorny Wood' of Richard's 'Inductions Dangerous.' Here in Richmond, the fantastic actor Rick Brandt danced with the crooked-backed 'Ultimate Bad Guy' in a 2003 Richmond Shakespeare Production, to sparkling notices.

Now, thanks to James Ricks, Alex Previtera and The Henley Street Theatre Company, I'll finally get my chance. I just hope I'm up to the task.

This fall, just in time for the 2008 Election cycle, I will attempt to bring Richard, Duke of Gloucester back to life under the direction of James Ricks at the brand new Henley Street Theatre Company. Director James Ricks and Artistic Director Alex Previtera, are really enthusiastic about bringing this production to the Richmond Theatre Audience.

James Ricks has perhaps the most tireless work ethic I have ever seen. His passion for this project has been unbelievable. James has spent almost a year and a half laying the groundwork and honing in on just what he wants this production to say, while finding a suitable home for it to grow. Well, after a lengthy search, Henley Street Theatre Company is the place. And we couldn't be happier about that.

I've known James Ricks for about two years now, since we worked together on SCAPINO! He is one of the most intelligent, intuitive, talented and passionate actors I know. His Hotspur in last year's production of Henry IV, Part One was the performance of the year in Richmond. James is a real gentleman-- an incredibly fun and funny guy to be around-- and, for real, my boy is Wicked Smahhht. He also likes my Mac N' Cheese. At least I think he does. He seemed to... He ate it all, I think.

Oh, yeah, he also likes hockey. Just not the Boston Bruins. The Bastid.

Anyway, I was able to see the fantastic Richmond Shakespeare Company production of Richard The Second that James directed last October, and I was blown away by his incredibly clear and passionate storytelling. The urgency and electricity of Shakespeare's language came to life with vitality and clarity. I look forward to working with him, and one thing is for certain: If I want to do well, I'd better do my freaking homework.

James' vision for communicating this classic story is fresh, original, first-rate, and above all TIMELY. The conversation this production should spark-- a lively discussion about power and media manipulation-- is going to be reeeeeally interesting.

I look forward to the challenge of finally playing Richard III, and I thank Alex Previtera and the Henley Street Theatre Company for their continuing mission to bring vibrant reinterpretations of classic plays to Richmond audiences. I think that Richard III will be something very special.

"I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die!!"
-R III, Act V Scene v

Richard III opens September 26th, 2008 and runs through October 18th, 2008 at Henley Street Theatre Company. Details will be available soon at www.Henleystreettheatre.org.

Superbowl XLII: A Family Affair.

Somewhere, Ben Bates is grinning ear-to-ear.

It's difficult to write about the events of last night's Super Bowl. The months leading up to it, for me as a diehard New England Patriots fan, had been a non-stop whirlwind of emotion. This has been a football season like no other; A very special and memorable one. It is easy to overlook that right now. In the aftermath of what is surely one of the greatest Super Bowl upsets of all time, a lot of Pats fans have thrown up their hands as if to say "Aww Crap!! The entire season is a waste."

Not me.

Ever watch your favorite baseball team's pitcher try and throw a no-hitter? It's an intense, harrowing experience. You realize something special is happening, and you agonize over every pitch, every two-strike count, every ball put in play. You're literally on the edge of your seat, taking special care not to alter or veer from your game-watching routine. Maybe you have a favorite seat (I do) a favorite hat (I do) and a favorite beverage (I do) which accompanies the game-watching experience. It's exhausting. But when your team comes through-- like the Red Sox did in preserving rookie Clay Bucholz's no-hitter this past summer-- (Not to mention that little World Series They WON!!) the emotional payoff is indescribable. It's weird; You almost feel as though you affected the outcome in some small way because you concentrated so hard, maybe you wore your lucky unwashed-in-two-months jersey, or text messaged the same people during the game... Maybe a legion of Sox fans affected the 'Quantum field' or something. OR, maybe a talented bunch of professional athletes achieved something through hard work and dedication... Whatever. Semantics. The point is, when you're a fan, a TRUE fan-- you pour your heart and soul out for your team. You live and die with every pitch, every bounce of the ball. Especially when something special, like the aforementioned no-hitter, is unfolding.

For me, this past Patriots season was like watching a Five-month no-hitter develop. Along the way, my Pats set new records for scoring; Caused a media firestorm when they got busted for spying on the New York Jest-- err, Jets-- with video cameras (even though a Jets employee was removed from the second deck of Gilette Stadium in Foxboro last season for almost the exact same offense. whatever. I'm not in the least bit bitter at the total disinterest the media showed that wrinkle in the story); They pissed off every other fan base with their horrifying penchant for playing sixty minutes of football; Pulled off a steal of a deal with the hated Raiders for the rights to malcontent wideout Randy Moss, who had a career year AND finally became a solid citizen until being accused of assaulting a woman in Florida during the playoffs. Oops.; And I drank the Kool Aid as the Pats basically became the galactic Empire (Complete with Hooded Sith Lord Head Coach!! FULLY POSEABLE!), while turning the opposition's escalating verbal jabs into what Bobby Boucher from the movie 'The WaterBoy' would call "Tacklin' Fuel."

And for nearly five months, they didn't lose a game. FIVE MONTHS. They took all comers, defending Super Bowl Champs, playoff teams, also-rans, and yes, even the lowly Jets and their no-good-rat-fink-head-coach-Eric Mangini.

In the wake of the Red Sox' World Series Championship, It became an obsession for me to see the Patriots go for a perfect 19-0 Championship season. The run of good fortune bestowed on us New England Fans-- in all sports-- seemed so unreal, so absolutely fantastic. I'm still really excited about all of it, despite the Super Bowl defeat. The New England Revolution Soccer team went to the finals of the MLS cup. Boston College was ranked Number Two for like two weeks and beat VA Tech with an amazing comeback in the final two minutes. The Celtics rattled off nine straight wins, and as we speak, they're tops in the NBA. Just last week, the Sox played keep-away with the Yankees in trade talks with the Twins and effectively muscled Johan Santana out of the AL altogether.

It is still a freakin' sweet time to be a New England sports fan.

It's a cool phenomenon. During the Pats streak, My friends would see me coming, wearing my Pats hat or my Red Sox jacket and start shaking their heads as if to say "You smug Bastid." I was really digging it. I still am, although the Pats bubble got burst and the chant of "18 & ONE!!" has probably supplanted "1918" in the New York Sport Derision Lexicon. (An actual document, I'm told. I should check B&N.com... I digress) That's okay. New Yorkers needed something like this to happen... desperately, trust me.

But here's where the Patriots' Road to Glory differed from all other sports teams, at least for me: The Pats roll not only got me fired up as a fan-- It inspired me to try new things and test myself. As I write this, I'm almost five weeks away from my very first Marathon, and I've pushed myself really hard during workouts and long runs --three, in particular, of 18, 20 and 22 miles-- simply by imagining the effort being expended by guys like Linebacker Tedy Bruschi (who came back to play at age 32 after a terrifying heart episode left him almost paralyzed a few years back) Linebacker Junior Seau, Fullback Kevin Faulk, and Tough-as-nails QB Tom Brady. Whenever I got weary, I told myself, "I can go one more mile-- because so can the Pats." It sounds really lame and cheesy, but I found some mental toughness developing on those 6am Saturday long runs, while wearing my Navy blue winter hat with the Patriot logo and what my wife Jennie calls the "Racing Stripe." I kept hearing Brady as he implored his team on the sidelines:

"Be Sharp! Rise Up, all right? Take it to another level!!"

That's what I'm trying to do, in all areas of my life.

So, I was along for the ride with this bunch, and I took every slight against them personally, adopting Coach Bill Belichick's 'us-against-the-world Bunker Mentality' and firing salvos right back at those who dared disparage the Pats. I got into it with Diehard 'Skins Fan Andrew Hamm over 'runupthescoregate.' I parsed the 'SpyGate' defense arguments better than Johnny Cochran ever could, and I interrupted two employees in a Kroger Parking lot to tell them "Sorry guys, but Dallas is Toast, baby." That is so unlike me. Heck, I even called Senator Arlen Spector's office to harangue some poor intern about the Eagles-fan-extraordinaire Spector's move to make NFL Czar Roger Goodell testify on Capitol Hill about the league's disposal of the Pats' seized Death Star Plans-- Err, Spy Videotape.

So yeah, I was a bit 'INTO IT.'

But when I saw that the Patriots would be playing the New York Giants in Super Bowl Forty-Two, I said, "Oh, shit," and did a double-take.

See, the New York Football Giants are Ben Bates' team.

Ben Bates is my Grandfather. He was the biggest Giants fan of them all.

Ben Bates loved the Giants with his heart and soul, ever since he was a kid growing up in Pittsfield Mass. New England had no NFL Frachise when Ben was growing up, so in 1959 the upstart American Football League gave birth to the Boston Patriots, who played their games in Fenway Park for awhile before ending up in Foxboro, Mass in 1971. But Ben's heart always belonged to the New York Football Giants. Every Christmas it was easy to pick out something for him. (I think I bough him three Giants hats in my lifetime on different holidays.)

Ben Bates was in his glory when, in 1986, the NY Giant beat John Elway's Denver Broncos 39-20 to end their long NFL Title drought. I think I still have the videotape he made of the game. He loved Lawrence Taylor and that badass in-your-face defense. (He was a badass, in-your-face guy, so it was a good fit.) Those teams had a great pass rush; A stellar game-manager at QB (Phil Simms); and a great receiving corps, headlined by Tight End Mark Bavaro, another of Gramp's favorites, of whom he said "Bavaro is one tough sonofabitch." (The highest form of praise from Mr Bates.)

He gloated mightily when the 'Jints' survived to win Super Bowl Twenty-five over the favored Buffalo Bills, 20-19. ("Norwood's kick is Wide Right!! Wide Right!!") And through it all, Ben Bates absolutely WORSHIPPED the ground Giants Head Coach Bill Parcells walked on. I can hear him now: "Parcells is the best coach in the Goddamn LEAGUE!! You can't run on the Giants, no sir!! That's New York GIANT Football!"

Now for those of you who don't know, Bill Parcells eventually left the Giants to work in the NBC broadcast booth. But, as luck would have it, "the best coach in the Goddamn League" wound up as head Coach of my team, the New England Patriots, in 1993. His first move was to draft Quarterback Drew Bledsoe, and the team actually started to show promise. They began to play like the Giants played. Strong defense, Solid Running Game, strong secondary, good special teams play.

Over Christmas break in 1993, I took a video camera over to my aunt's house and caught him on camera briefly. In hindsight, Something amazing happened. Ben Bates says, prophetically, as he looks right into the camera "I give New England TEN YEARS. They'll win it all in TEN YEARS, after Parcells steals all the Giants players."

After four years, Big Ben was half-right. Parcells stole D-back Otis Smith, 'all-everything' Dave Meggett, and a host of other players and coaches from the Giants, including assistant Coach and Defensive coordinator Bill Belichick, who, in 1997, helped the Pats reach Super Bowl Thirty One, which they lost to the Green Bay Packers, 35-21. They may have lost the big one, but by then the Pats had undergone a startling transformation, and they began to play championship-caliber football, or as Grampy called it "New York Giant Football."

The Giants made it to the Big Dance again in the year 2001, eventually losing Super Bowl Thirty-Five to the Baltimore Ravens, 34-7. I rooted for the Giants in that one (My Patriots went 5-11 that year) but by that time I was living in Virginia while Grampy was back in Pittsfield, slowly suffering from the degenerative effects of a stroke which he suffered in 1994 after a routine procedure to clear a blockage in an artery in his neck. That Super Bowl in 2001 was the last one he would ever see. The Giants lost the game, and four months later, they lost their biggest fan when Ben Bates passed away on May 29th, 2001.

Later that year, something amazing happened. The Patriots, who had finished the previous season a woeful 5-11, started to play with a familiar style. They developed a strong pass rush, a ball-hawking defensive secondary, and late in the season, they caught fire. In a late November game, they played the St Louis Rams, the explosive 'Greatest Show on Turf' and almost came away with a win. It was the kind of game that boosts a team's confidence, and they rode that momentum into the playoffs, where they won an overtime game in a howling snowstorm, bested another heavily-favored team in a pivotal road playoff game, and advanced to take on the heavily-favored Rams again, in Super Bowl Thirty-Six on February 2nd, 2002. This time the Pats newfound confidence served them well. They pressured the Quarterback, Kurt Warner ('Knocked the shit out of him,' to be precise) got a few turnovers, hung in there, withstood a late surge from the Rams, and engineered a last-second drive for the ages.

As Adam Vinatieri sent his potential game-winning field-goal skyward as time expired six years ago, my first thought was of my Grandfather, of his video prediction that the Pats would "win it all in ten years." I also thought how amazing it was that the fortunes of our favorite teams teams had been so intertwined through the years. Seconds later, as the kick split the uprights, the Patriots had won Super Bowl Thirty-Six. The main reason: Because they had learned how to play "New York Giant Football."

Over the years, my beloved Patriots would become something of a min-dynasty in the NFL, winning two more championships and setting a really high level of excellence for themselves. This past year, however, they changed to become a more offensive-minded bunch, and blew every scoring record in the books out of the water. They won eighteen straight games. The sky was the limit for this bunch. Boston Globe Columnist Dan Shaughnessy took to calling them "The History Boys."

The Giants were coached by Tom Coughlin, a Parcells disciple and the receivers coach on the '86 and '90 Giants' Super Bowl teams that my Grandfather loved so much. Coughlin's job-security had been wondered about publicly. There was dissention in the Giants' clubhouse. The Quarterback, Eli Manning, was perceived as aloof and mistake-prone. Their star running back, Tiki Barber, retired abruptly before the season started. The prognosis for a winning season in New York did not look good.

Then, this year, something amazing happened. The Giants-- who had finished the previous season 8-8 and losing a wild-card playoff game-- started to play with a familiar style. They developed a strong pass rush, a three-headed running game, and late in the season, they caught fire. In a late December game, they played the New England Patriots, the explosive 'Greatest Team of All-Time' and almost came away with a win. It was the kind of game that boosts a team's confidence, and they rode that momentum into the playoffs, where they won an overtime game in a howling snowstorm, bested another heavily-favored team in a pivotal road playoff game, and advanced to take on the heavily-favored Pats again, in Super Bowl Forty-Two on February 3rd, 2008. This time the 'Jints' newfound confidence served them well. They pressured the Quarterback, Tom Brady ('Knocked the shit out of him,' to be precise) got a few bounces, hung in there, withstood a late surge from the Pats, and engineered a last-second drive for the ages.

As Eli Manning hit wideout Plaxico Burress who juked Pats' CB Ellis Hobbes on a fade route with :39 seconds left, I thought of my Grandfather, and how much fun he would be having, even as my stomach fell through the floor.

So last night, Super Bowl Forty-Two was something of a family affair. My Aunt and my Mother both rooted for the Giants, and I, of course, rooted for the Patriots. Even my wife Jennie was into it, yelling at Pats receiver Wes Welker to "Go! Go!! Run!!"

And I wanted it. I wanted it so badly, one can hardly believe it. I could taste it when Brady hit Randy Moss for the go-ahead score with 2:45 left in the Fourth Quarter. The Patriots were going to be 19-0.

It was an amazing game.

The Pats were on the verge of perfection, but Eli and he Giants stole it from them by playing hard for sixty full minutes. The Giants won by Playing 'New England Patriots Football.' If it were anybody else-- any other team-- I'd probably be angry or upset about the loss, But somehow this loss doesn't sting quite as as badly as it should. It's really odd. Especially since so much was at stake; The perfect record, etc. I've never had this feeling about a sporting event before-- I'm holding two opposite emotions in my heart at he same time. I'm emotionally 'crushed' but I'm somehow reassured that something absolutely wonderful happened for lots of people who love the Giants just as much as my Grandfather did.

So today, I talked with my Mom on the phone. She was in such a good mood that it put me in one, too... Even as I wandered around with the "What the hell just happened?" face all day. I told her that I though it would be a good idea if someone could place a NY GIANTS SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONS Pennant by my Grandfather's headstone in Hinsdale, Mass. She liked that idea. So do I.

So, I'm happy. Even though we lost everything. The whole season, the 19-0 dream. All of it. I'm not sure exactly why...I'm happy.

Perhaps because I know that somewhere out there, my Grandfather, Ben Bates, is watching all of this and loving every minute of it. And what can I say? I love my Grandfather more than any football team... Even the Patriots.

I can hear Tom Brady now, saying "Be Sharp! Rise Up, all right? Take it to another level!!"

I think I finally know what that really means.

"For now, I’m just a runner!

I recently sat down and composed a list of things I'd like to do before I die. The very first thing that came to my mind was "I'd like to run the Boston marathon someday." So, that's what I'm going to shoot for, even if it takes me ten years to run a qualifying time in an official Boston-Qualifying Marathon. Right now, the BQ time is 3 hours 10 minutes for a 34-year old man.

Luckily, I'm a 12-year old tucked inside the body of a 34 year-old. I'm camouflaged like I was friggin' Predator. They'll never see me coming.

Now, mind you, I've never actually run a Marathon before, whatsoever. But, I've always been a pretty fit fella, and I have the metabolism of a freaking Meerkat. I can eat just about anything (Though I've switched to a vegetarian diet in the last five years) and turn it into pure energy. I try to always get out and exercise-- as much as I can, anyway. I play touch football, baseball, basketball on occasion, and prior to the past few months, I'd only run every now and again-- whenever I needed a quick inertia-buster. I've also been practicing Yoga on and off for about four years, and that, along with my dietary changes, do wonders for my body even as both exponentially lower my 'coolness qoutient' among my pals.

My buddy, Baron Von Rick, likes to shake his head and say "What happened to you, man?"

What can I say?? I am, after all, the world's premiere 'AlfAlpha male.' A corny, goofy, geeky vegetarian touchy-feely guy with a competitive streak a mile wide, and a low frustration tolerance, but still with enough self-deprecating humor to make him somehow endearing at the same time as he's being annoying.

THAT's an 'AlfAlpha Male.'

Now, about the habits I used to display...

I used to drink like a fish (Mostly beer-- LOTS of Beer) and I smoked like a chimney for about 5 years. Who could blame me-- I was working three bartending jobs in Pittsfield, Mass (The scratch ticket/six-pack/cigarettes-combo capital of the world) and I noticed really quickly that people who smoke get more 'breaktime' at work than non-smokers. If you say, "Hey Joe, I'm gonna grab a quick smoke, " The answer is "No problem." Try saying "Hey Joe, I'm gonna stand outside for an average of seven minutes and breathe in and out." The next words out of Joe's mouth will be "Like hell you AHH!! Change the kegs, ya lazy rat-lookin' bastid!!" Next thing I know, I'm lighting up like a moron.

I also worked on The Lost Colony Outdoor Drama and lived in 'The Compound' for awhile, so we all enabled each other's nasty smoking habit. Now many of us are kicking it with the quickness, but back then, everybody did it...So, smoking became the thing to do, and luckily the Marlboro lights didn't result in a 'Light' tumor as far as I can tell.

So, like Carl said in Caddyshack-- "I got that going for me."

So, now, coffee is my only real vice. That and La Croix brand canned soda water. And sunflower seeds. That's really it. Now, don't think that I don't get my protein, because I do. I eat lots of peanut butter and soy protein and eggs (yes, I do eat eggs, maybe someday I'll stop, but not just yet) Cottage cheese (Has mad Protein, yo) Almonds, and flaxseed... and unlike Barry Bonds, I know what Flaxseed oil looks like. (It's great for your skin, by the way) I also get my veggies, cheeses and other dairy products, and a healthy heaping of breads (Jennie has learned to bake bread), including whole wheat pasta, and I cook a lot with olive oil. Every morning I have either an egg sandwich (Cooked with olive oil) and a bowl of fruit, granola and yogurt, or a bowl of cheerios and a banana or some oatmeal and coffee. I eat lots of pasta and different combinations of soy proteins that are so good --and good for you-- that it makes sense to substitute them into your diet now and then-- even if you're not some 'animal-compassion whacko' on the outermost lefty fringes of society.

But I digress. Back to my bipedal questisisss.

I have a weird history with running. It has moved in and out of my life ever since I was a kid on the Westminster Center School Track and Cross-Country teams at the age of ten. We lived in Bellows Falls, Vermont at the time, and we were called the Vikings. We wore green and white uniforms, which I thought was cool, since we looked like the Celtics. Short shorts, high socks with the three green stripes. Awww, yeah. I used to be the smallest kid on both teams, and I was an average runner at best. I was the kid who would run off into the woods during the cross-country meets and stop to look at a butterfly, resulting in a 19th place finish.

Our team was anchored by the erstwhile legend of Westminster track and cross -country excellence, Claudia Williams, the long-legged daughter of Red Sox Hall of Famer Ted Williams. She won, I swear-- EVERY. SINGLE. RACE.

On and off over the years, I would eschew competitive racing in favor of the theatre, but that never stopped me from running just for the joy of it. My girlfriend in high school and college, Dina Ressler, was a track/cross country runner at PHS and Bentley College, and my cousin Shaun broke the Taconic HS mark for the 400-meter hurdles. With me, though, it was always about chugging along and taking in the view. I loved the three-mile run down east New Lenox Road to New Lenox road-- from my Dad's old house in Pittsfield Mass --to my uncle Charlie's-- and back The view of the Berkshire Hills, seen across the valley beyond the railroad tracks, is something I always go back to whenever I close my eyes. Those were the same tracks I used to lay pennies on with Katy Maturveitch in the second grade. We'd sit there and wait for the trains to come along and flatten them. Hey, what can I say, there was no internet... and Atari had, like, two games.

In college, I started running again to build up my endurance to play the lead in Me and My Girl. I would run around the Sutter Oval in front of Wagner College's Main Hall, sometimes waking at 6:30 am on days when my earliest class was at 11am. Those of you who know my penchant for 'sleeping in' will find that quite hard to believe. But, it paid off. I remember feeling so strong and confident during the actual show, blazing through those song & dance numbers... I had an inexhaustible supply of both breath and energy.

I remember that one of my favorite days ever was July 4th, 1994, when I ran the Pittsfield 4th of July 5k-- and then, during the ensuing parade, I was in the Berkshire Theatre Festival float down North Street as part of the cast of Brimstone: The Irish Musical. The only drawback to that day was that during the race, around the turn of mile three, Dina completely dusted me, fired up the afterburners and took off -- this was like, four months after we broke up, so it was basically her version of the Patriots' now infamous 'Eff-You TD.'

(But, unlike some NFL-organizations I could mention, I shut up and took my medicine... ; )

There's something great about logging a run in cold weather; In particular, the way your body just educates you-- it tells you "I can do more than you think I can, bro-ham. Let me show you. Have a little faith in me. I pump enough blood to keep you alive, and I put up with all the crap you've done to me over the years, now-- watch what I can really do. I'm the Millenium Freaking Falcon. Take me out for a spin, you low-expectation havin' mother$@**!! (Apologies to Chris Rock)

In recent years, Jennie and I have run the Komen Race for the Cure, and every time we do it, I am more inspired by these brave women and their stories of survival, triumph and dedication in the face of cancer treatment. We just did the Ntelos 8k together, and Jennie is now shooting for the Half-marathon as her goal. Depending on how our latest auditions shake out, we may each run our event in VA Beach on March 16th of this year-- The Shamrock Marathon and Half-Marathon.

I recently found a journal we had to keep in Mister Oglesby's Fifth Grade class.I am absolutely floored that this journal has been preserved like this-- it was at my dad's house for like twenty years, sealed and untouched. I found two fantastic passages that illustrate the beginnings of my relationship to the sport:

"9-30-1983

Yesterday, we won the track meet! Claudia came in 1st place and Asia came in 2nd! I came in 19th place! Maybe next year I can come in 1st place!

For now, I'm just a runner!"

"10-21-1983

Yesterday, we lost the track meet. (but) We might get ribbons for our running! I hope so. My Mom was at the meet yesterday, too. My Ma always askes me, "Scott how do you do it?" She says she could never run as fast as I can. I should have told her she can do anything she wants! It's being good at what you do that counts."

I have so much enthusiasm for running now, and rereading these journals is like dipping in the 'Magic waters' That James earl Jones talks about in Field of Dreams. What a blessing to be able to re-connect to something I wrote so long ago-- to find the simple, resonant truth of a child-- ringing like a bell.

Bill Rodgers, the Melrose, Mass-based 4-time winner of the Boston marathon, left the sport for quite a number of years, himself. Not quite as many as I did, and certainly at a higher level of competition, but something he said in his book, Marathoning, struck a chord with me. He writes:

"Some people say, 'I'm a painter.' Well, I'm a runner. It comes from within. What started me running again? The primary reason was that I finally came to realize I was a runner. It was always a part of my personality. It fitted me so well. Although I had quit the physical experience of running, I had never quit being a runner at heart."

So, I've reached an understanding with myself, and been re-acquainted with a valuable truth that I forgot how to hear. I'm a runner. What kind of runner I become is now up to me. I may never hit the heights of 'Boston Billy,' But I've got a full tank and a full heart, and I'm ready to see what I can do.

I'm currently training about 23 miles a week, and every time out, I am more and more thankful for this body, this life, these friends and family members, these memories, and this wonderful opportunity to live more fully. Each step of this life is an opportunity to do just that. May I be always observant of this simple truth, and take no step for granted.

I feel like there's a new chapter opening in my life, and I hope to fill the remaining pages with a special story, started by a small, ten-year old boy awkwardly running through the Westminster woods in high green tube socks. I'm going to give this my all, and hopefully it will someday lead me to my goal of getting to that starting line in Hopkinton some cold, drizzly monday in early april.

The journey alone will be well worth it.

And if I want to stop and look at the butterflies along the way, that's okay too.

Here's to whatever's on your list.

Best,

Scott Wichmann

Dennis Kucinich Eviscerates Vice President Cheney.

He's not flashy. He doesn't yell. He never raises his voice at all.

The rest of the nation may be hung up on John Edwards' haircuts, Hillary's Fundraising, and Obama's endless promises of 'Hope.'

But there's one guy who's actually doing the heavy lifting. Here is one of the only real democrats left with any spine, a man who still remembers that the Constitution trumps the desires of the 'temps' in the executive branch.

This guy isn't an invertebrate flip-flopping milksop like Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi.

Oh, no.

Congressman Dennis Kucinich is for real. And He's going for the jugular.

Congressman Kucinich absolutely DESTROYS The Vice President's litany of lies to the American people in this recent resolution before the House of Representatives. He systematically picks apart every one of Cheney and Bush's lies and calls for Cheney's ouster.

By Dennis' rationale, Get rid of Cheney first, then go after other guy. After all, 'Pinky' Bush is nothing if he doesn't have 'The Brain' by his side, telling him what to do.

Tell your represenatives in congress and the senate to throw their support behind HR 333, and Impeach the Vice President for high crimes and misdemeanors against the US Constitution.

Watch the whole thing. Make up your mind. Just listen to the man, and you will understand what real leadership looks like. While other Dems sit on their hands and play it safe, Dennis is doing the job he was elected to do.

Isn't that what you'd expect from an elected representative??

Thank You, Red Sox.

Remember how Christmas used to feel when you were a kid?? That's EXACTLY how I feel right now.

The past few months and weeks have been like a dream come true for me. As some of you may know, I was asked in mid-summer to direct Barksdale theatre's 2007 season-opening production of 'The Member of the Wedding,' which allowed me to work with some of the finest theatre artists I have ever known. I learned a lot about team-building, ensemble work, sacrifice, unity, and dedication as I watched every designer, props person, stage manager, actor, light board op, and set builder do what they do best. The result was something wonderful: A beautiful flash of brilliant light across the stage. A joyous expression of the poetry of living came to life, thanks to the enormous talents people of wildly varying ages and backgrounds. The entire effort was a labor of love. The show was received very well by the critics, and the houses were consistently full. Yesterday was the closing matinee, and it was an emotional 'goodbye for now' for the cast and crew. I am so proud of their work. They'll never know just how much they mean to me.

Then, last night, my beloved Boston Red Sox won their second World Series title in four years, sweeping the Colorado Rockies four games to none. I was--and am-- still absolutely stunned.

I have been a Red Sox fan for as far back as I can remember, and the 2004 World Championship ranks among the top five things that have ever happened to me in my lifetime, right up there with getting married, graduating from college, and getting my first professional job. A second championship in four years is absolutely unimaginable to me. I am so happy that I think I'm going to burst. Now, to some, that may sound, shall we say, 'a tad excessive'-- I assure you, it is not.

You see, I come from a little town in the Berkshires of western Massachusetts called Pittsfield, nestled in a baseball-obsessed New England region of loyal Red Sox fans. Pittsfield actually boasts the earliest historical reference to the game of baseball in North America, dating back to 1791, almost a full seventy years before it was supposedly 'invented' by Abner Doubleday in New York (Sorry again, Yankee fans.) The official slogan for the Pittsfield baseball connection is "It All Started Here." There are actual 'vintage teams', like the Pittsfield Hillies, who play by '1880's rules' at Waconah Park in Pittsfield. So, basically, We're a little nuts about the game. And we're even nuttier about our Red Sox, who play their home games about two hours' drive east at historic Fenway Park in Boston.

When I was a kid, I moved around a lot, but the Red Sox were my tether to my roots, my lifeline to my family and my sense of who I am and where I'm from. It was my connection to my Grandfather, my Father, my Uncles, and cousins. I'm a New Englander. I take enormous pride in making that declaration, and anyone who knows me can tell you that. As a child moving and changing schools, I followed the Sox in the Scranton, PA news papers and ate up the box scores like so many Alpha Bits. I wore a Sox hat in my first professional play, by choice. I went to my first game at Fenway in April of 1984, appeared in a NESN TV Commercial for the Sox in August of 1988 (the footage of 13 year-old me was also featured on 'This Week in Baseball'), and I share a birthday
(aug 30th) with Ted Williams, perhaps the greatest Red Sox player of all-time. His daughter, Claudia, was my classmate in elementary school. I can recite the team's history backwards and forwards. I remember little moments and random stats from seasons long past (Example: Did you know that in 1988, the Sox were 4-0 whenever an animal appeared on the field? Well, now you do. Stuff like that.) I have had three favorite players in my lifetime: Dwight Evans, Roger Clemens, Pedro Martinez. (and now I'm finding that it's a tie between Dustin Pedroia and Daisuke Matsuzaka. Jacoby Ellsbury is just... Phenomenal. The second coming of Fred Lynn??? Wait-- I digress.)

Anyway, growing up, I 'suffered' through many a torturous season with the star-crossed Sox...(I use "quotation fingers" to denote the fact that sports "Suffering" doesn't really count as real suffering, especially not in a world where madmen kill children for money and the needy and sick often starve in order to satiate someone's lust for power-- to be clear, it's just a term)...Basically I endured the grim heartache of facing the all-too-real prospect of living my entire life without seeing the Sox win the World Series. (My Grandfather passed in 2001 without ever seeing them do it) All the while, watching expansion teams from places like Arizona and Florida, places devoid of our hardball heritage, win it all. Arizona? Florida? Please. I'm sure the people there are very nice, but it is very different when one talks about baseball fandom. Not exactly diehard fans, those Marlin & D-Back folk. The "Fans" in those cities enjoyed winning WS Titles, waved their towels and banged their thunderstix or whatever they were given as they entered the ballpark, and supported their teams for awhile-- before getting bored with mediocrity again and casting the same team aside when the Ice capades came to town.

It ain't exactly the same up north.

For me as a fan, it supremely sucked having to watch that kind of bandwagon-eering... But the absolute worst was watching the Yankees rake in four WS Trophies from 1996 to 2000 while the SS Red Sox continued to take on water year after year without management ever adequately addressing the leak. The Yanks drank champagne and ate caviar while the Sox watched hungrily from behind the glass. They took our players in the off season. And then they won titles with them. Wade Boggs. Roger Clemens. THAT hurts.

Now that I think about it, I take it back. That IS real suffering.

Anyway, the really weird part of all of this is that it wasn't always so. The Sox used to be the best team in baseball, hands down. After winning six out of the first 15 World Series from 1903-1918, the idiotic Red Sox owner, Harry Frazee, subsequently sold Babe Ruth to the NY Yankees for $125,000 (to finance a musical!! AAAHH!!) and the Sox--how shall I put this--Never quite recovered. They were ever-so-close to winning it all again in '46, '48, '67, '72,'75, '78, '86, '88,'90, '95, '99, and '03, but they never could quite get the job done. Always a miscue of some sort-- often a defensive lapse, an ill-advised pitch, a temper-tantrum, a managerial miscue, or a combination of all of them kept the Sox out of the winners' circle. They somehow always found a way to beat themselves, while the Yankees sat on a pile of WS Trophies-- totaling 26 in all.

It was hard. It was hard just being a fan!! Living in NYC after college, I was like the whipping boy on my way to work each day, passing construction sites and enduring jeers or sitting across from smug Wall Street guys who laughed at me when they saw the bright red 'B' on my hat. I'd sit in Yankee stadium fearing for my life as the Yankees killed my team, and then I'd get threatened or harassed all the way home on the subway. What also sucked was that often times the Red Sox and their ownership weren't particularly likeable. The front office acted as though the fans should kiss their feet while surly Sox players played like robots and collected their paychecks without ever cracking a smile. I was like "Why do I follow this freaking team?? They hate me!! AND they'll never win it all!! Why am I doing this to myself??" The negativity surrounding the franchise built up on sports talk radio, in bars and farmers' markets all over New England.

The media didn't help, either.

Some opportunistic douchebag Boston sportswriters (who shall remain nameless, and yes, the term 'douchebag' is a charitble axiom in this instance) in recent years had taken to attributing superstitious causes for the Red Sox' baseball futility, and cashed in heavily on the Sox' misery. It was as if these 'media elements' were openly rooting for the Red Sox to lose!! What an outrage!! In the aftermath of the 2003 collapse, another rage-inducing Yankee Homerun into the Bronx October air, the media and fans were at wits' end.

The endless refrain was replayed over and over: "The Red Sox are Cursed."

There seemed to be no relief.

Then, something amazing happened.

The flimsy spook-driven anti-sox marketing empire came crashing down in 2004 when, with their backs to the absolute WALL, a plucky, quirky, hairy, lovable Boston Red Sox team rose up, defiantly fought back, and finally beat the New York Yankees in what would go down as the single greatest comeback in the all-time history of sports. The Sox went on to beat the St Louis Cardinals, and won their first World Championship since 1918.

Earth-Shatteringly AWESOME.

That was one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me-- And just about every Sox fan will say the same. In a span of three weeks in october of 2004, 86 years of heartbreak, negativity and panic, all the hand-wringing and collective doom and gloom was washed away, replaced by smiles and cheers. All of the hurt and frustration of generations of Sox fans down through time was transformed into a brilliant spark of Joy. Evidently, that energy created in 2004 has grown into something much more fulfilling.

The seed planted by that 2004 squad has blossomed into something amazing. It has borne more fruit, and manifested itself as beautifully played, artistic baseball.

I loved watching every moment of the 2007 Sox. I loved the players and their struggles to master this indescribably difficult and humbling game. I loved charting Dice-K's growth as he struggled to prove himself on the mound in the States. I loved witnessing Papelbon's exuberance; Pedroia's swagger; Manny's quirkiness and excellence; Beckett's competitiveness; Schilling's Faith; Papi's Perseverance; Timlin's Tenacity; Wakefield's Selflessness; Lugo's quiet determination; Drew's TIMING!!; Youkilis' Reliability; Lester's journey; Varitek's Leadership; Ellsbury's speed and talent; Crisp's Grace; The Bullpen's Rhythm; Okajima's Dominance; Lowell's Intelligence; Gagne's absence (Kidding!!); Wally's big fuzzy green head; The Guy who threw the Pizza; The Mother's Day Comeback; The Papelbon Riverdance; Bucholz' No-Hitter; Papi's Walkoff; Back-to-back-to-back-to-back Homers against the Yankees; Danny The Anti-Bartman; Manny's ALDS Blast & 'Hamburger Helper Hands'; Schill's One-hit wonder; THE O'S BEAT THE YANKEES!!; Remy's Balletic Post Air-guitar sense of Balance; Tito's Confidence; The ALCS Comeback; Theo & The Trio's vision; and The PASSION of Red Sox Nation.

I learned a lot about team-building, ensemble work, sacrifice, unity, and dedication as I watched every Shortstop, Catcher, Outfielder, Manager, GM, Coach, Scout, Pitcher and Hitter do what they do best. Last night, The Boston Red Sox won the World Series. AGAIN. a joyous expression of the poetry of living came to life this october, thanks to the enormous talents people of wildly varying ages and backgrounds. The entire effort was a labor of love.

I'll say it again. I love the Red Sox.

Thanks, Fellas. Take a bow. You deserve it.

UNBEATEN.

WWW.USCAMPAIGNFORBURMA.ORG

FREE BURMA.

If you've been paying attention to the news recently, then you've seen stories about the Buddhist Monks protesting for the rights of all people against the Military junta in Burma. The story has a long and terrible history, but the bright side is that never before has that story been front and center in the world media like this.

It is time to capitalize on the media exposure of the atrocities committed by the Burmese Military Junta against the people of Burma. Write your congressman or senator and tell him or her to support economic sanctionsagainst the Military Junta. Also tell them to convince China to put severe political pressure on the Burmese Government.

Remember-- China doesn't want any disturbing flare-ups in that part of the world, and with the Olympics in Beijing just around the corner and deteriorating Chinese manufacturing 'street cred' leading to toy recalls worldwide, China needs a PR boost in the worst way. Supporting democratic reforms--or at the very least, public dialogue-- in Burma would be a good way for China to put some shine back into it's own image, even though China has just as much work to do in the Human Rights' Dept as Burma does.

The Bush Administration recently made my Jaw drop in admiration as they froze the assets of several of Burma's military leaders, and both the President and First Lady have publicly spoken in support of the democratic reforms championed by Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and others. Hell, even Dubya knows what's going on and is concerned enough to speak about it coherently-- it's GOTTA be a crisis. (Okay, that was just plain uncalled for.)

Seriously-- Thank you, Mr. President, for making the situation in Burma a focal point of your administration's foreign policy during your UN pissing contest with Iran.

Anyway, If you don't know much about this situation and would like to know more, go to:

www.uscampaignforburma.org

There you can find resources, petitions, updates, and you can become a member. The time is now, and the stakes are high. Support the people of Burma, and the courageous Monks who carry with them only a love for all beings and a determination to achieve justice, peace and national reconciliation.

Aung San Suu Kyi asks of all free people worldwide:

"Please use your liberty to promote ours."

Here's Jim Carrey with more on Aung San Suu Kyi and what she stands for:



And Michael Stipe of REM has this short clip:



And a 6-minute Doc called 'Burma Behind Bars':



Thanks for your time.

May all beings be happy,

Scott Wichmann

Thoughts on Dennis, America, and Baby deers.

Okay, so I'm up late again, (3am) trolling political websites and talking politics with libertarians, republicans, dems and greens, and I'm holding my own by myself on the home page message board of this great, comprehensive political website called:

http://usaelectionpolls.com/

It is a fantastic, well-informed and comprehensive resource for the electorate to research all presidential candidates and where they stand on the major Issues. Know what you stand for. Find a candidate for you.

Anyway, all y'all know that I'm backing the 'Kooch' in 2008, Ohio Congressman Dennis Kucinich, and his platform of social justice, living wage, end to war, universal healthcare and generally being a wicked awesome little vegan Ohioan Gandhiji.

Well, usaelectionpolls.com/ helped me discover some stuff-- For Example, did you know that Dennis Kucinich's platform is the one that most americans identify with--on nearly all pressing issues-- more than any democratic candidate-- even Obama??

So, when people say "Nnnnhhh, I dunno, Dennis is 'wayyy Left' it is because the deepest aspirations of a majority of americans are 'Nhhhhh, I dunno, wayyy left.'

Amazingly, All of the Dems in the race are to the right of a majority of americans!! (except the cranky Mike Gravel, whom I love-- YELL, MIKE!! YELL!!)

Most americans want:

Universal healthcare (real universal, not-for-profit Healthcare for eyyyybody)
To End the war In Iraq
To Cancel NAFTA
To Cancel the WTO
To provide a Living Wage
To Develop Alternative Energy
To provide Universal Pre-K
To see Fair trade reform contingent on Human rights & environmental quality
To Get China out of our checkbook
To develop a new national manufacturing base
Full-Employment economy
To capture Osama and bring him to trial for the murder of 3,000 Americans

and

To pet a baby deer in a park by a lake.

Okay, my tofu-hippie-buddhist-beastie-boy ass made the last part up. But you must admit, dem dere deers shore are cute when they're littleuns.

Anyway, Keeping those issues in mind, wouldn't it be great if citizens voted, I dunno, their CONSCIENCE for a change?

If you agree with any of those issues, then Dennis presents a most excellent candidacy for YOU!!

So, go to the above website and, if you're inclined, show Dennis a little love. Vote in the polls. Speak your mind.

(I'm getting kicked around on the boards by some anti-new world order federal-income-tax-repealing-Libertarians who think my middle name is Chairman Mao, but I'm having a boo-last!!)

Anyway, research Dennis Kucinich and show him some love!!

Why?

Because DENNIS IS RIGHT NOW.


PEACE,
Scott Wichmann

Dennis is Right Now.

Among all democratic candidates for President, only Dennis Kucinich is voicing the real concerns of everyday americans and speaking directly to the redress of their grievances. We know that 46 million americans go without healthcare every day, so Dennis is for universal healthcare, authoring HR 676 to insure every man, woman and child in the US. He has authored HR 333, holding VP Dick Cheney accountable for crimes against the US Constitution. Dennis voted against the war in Iraq and every spending bill thereafter. Dennis favors a WPA-style program to create American jobs by renovating the nation's crumbling infrastructure and retro-fitting homes with energy-saving technology that will reduce costs and benefit the environment.

Dennis is for the working men and women of america, because he is one of them.

Sure, our good friends on the right may call Dennis' domestic agenda another example of 'Tax & spend liberalism at it's most wasteful' but we never hear a word when the present Republican Administration mysteriously 'loses' 8 billion dollars in cash in Iraq. You didn't read that wrong-- it's gone, poof, vanished, with no accounting. 8 BILLION DOLLARS. Of your money. My money. US taxpayer funds. Flailing in the winds of Iraq... or wherever.

Think of how many american children could have been fully insured with 8 Billion dollars; how many repairs to infrastructure could have been made; How many schools, hospitals, senior centers, job training and adult literacy courses could have been funded. 8 Billion just -- vanished? Not to mention the no-bid wartime gifts, hand-over-fist, the Bush administration gives to corporations like Halliburton. And here the neocons are reverting to their tired routine of attacking 'Tax & Spend' liberals?? Please.

It's high time we put an ADULT in the white house, someone who comes from a working-class background; Someone who knows that Unions and american manufacturing jobs make america strong; Someone who understands --the first time-- that war should only be used as a last resort; Someone who wants to repeal NAFTA and the WTO and go back to bilateral trade contingent on workers rights, human rights and environmental quality principles ; Someone who wants to stage an intervention to stop our bloated deficit spending-habit; Someone who will put an end to the practice of financing China's economy in favor of incentives to provide decent wages and benefits for American workers; Someone who will distribute Taxation equitably-- lifting and shifting the Tax burden off the backs of the poor and the middle class and making the big corprations and the wealthiest 1% pay their fair share; Someone who upholds the ideals of the US Constitution, in word AND deed, voting against the authoritarian, bill-of-rights-stripping USA Patriot act; Someone who wants to hold the current administration accountable for it's horrendous corporate cronyism, lies, malfeasance, mismanagement and outright thievery of Iraq's oil for geopolitical strategic hegemony.

Lastly, a candidate who understands that we are all interconnected, as Dr King once put it, in an "Inescapable network of mutuality." A man in the mold of Gandhi, Dr King and Thoreau, who speaks truth to power and recognizes the immense potential of the promise that is The United States of America.

I'll cast my vote for Dennis Kucinich. I hope you will too.

Scott Wichmann

Scott Wichmann: Old School Sox Fan

Over on Andrew Hamm's blog, there's a discussion of the phenomenon of the 'New School Red Sox Fans'-- Currently (and derisively) called the 'Pink Hat Crowd' by astute members of the Boston Sports Media. This nomenclature refers to the brand-spankin' new pink hats worn by young and often hardball-disinterested ladies who simply wanted to buy a Sox hat because it's "soooo right now." They're the gals you see on TV at Fenway text messaging their gal pals and not watching the game. Obviously not all ladies are like this, and whatever anyone does at a ballgame is their business-- I just hate to see a good seat at Fenway gobbled up by someone who has no clue how lucky they are to be there in the first place.

The merch is flying off the shelves and the folks like the way it looks. But some of them can't name anyone on the team. It drives. Me. CRAZY.

The Pats fan base suffered the same phenomenon back in 1993, when the Patriots hired Bill Parcells to coach, Drafted Drew Bledsoe, and switched their helmet logo from the hilariously un-threatening 'Pat the Patriot' (The disgruntled minuteman in the three-point stance) in favor of the more aerodynamic and marketable 'Flying Elvis' logo, which I always thought looked a little bit like New Hampshire's fabled 'Old Man of the Mountain'-- which has since crumbled like the Yankee dynasty-- but I digress. The point is that everyone and their mother was now a 'lifelong, diehard Pats fan,' but most of them were made out of Phoney Baloney. (Which, Ironically, is what I eat now that I'm a Vegetarian-- so what does that make me?? Aww crap, 'philosophical conundrum alert'-- umm, I'll table that tangental thought as well...)

I remember getting into a heated argument with a guy at the Friendship Bar & Grille in Pittsfield Mass back in '93 after I walked into the bar wearing a brand-new 'Flying Elvis' Pats hat. This guy called me a 'Johhny-come-lately' and I took umbrage. This was back when I used to hit the sauce pretty hard, so it's all a little blurry... Anyway, the point is that the New England fan base is a grizzled lot, and you've got to know your stuff if you wannna hang around. I understand it, and I always say that "you've got to support your team through thick & thin." That's why I still wear my Celtics gear now & again, and I have a feeling that my boys in Green & White may actually become RELEVANT again, but I'll shut up so as not to jinx anything in that department...

Anyway, back to my main point-- this phenomenon of 'New school' Sox fans is just, well, WEIRD to me. I'm just not used to it.

On the 4th of July 2005, Jenny, Zac & I sat next to four 17-18 year olds (two Girls and Two Guys) at the Diamond for a game against the Columbus Clippers, the Yankee AAA Team. These kids were ALL decked out in their brand spanking new Red Sox t-shirts & hats. Of course, the girls had Pink Sox Hats. Then, one of the guys started talking to me about the Sox in this thick southern good-ole boy accent, and I was like "Am I in Bizarro World??" They were nice enough kids, and I was glad to have them aboard the SS RED SOX, but I couldn't help but flashback to my own ordeal, spending part of my childhood (6th-9th grade) in Pennsylvania, where all we ever got were Phillies games and the American League was, like, a RUMOR. I used to read the Box Scores of the late games two days later to quench my insatiable appetite for All Things Sox-Related. Thank goodness they made the postseason in 1986 or I would probably have never have seen them on TV all year long.

So, most people know that I've been a Sox fan as far back as I can remember, and they know that as far as I'm concerned, the Red Sox are like BREATHING. I can't remember when I wasn't a lunatic Rooter for the 'local nine' and I'm tied to them through my family my New England roots-- Heck, I even have the same BIRTHDAY as Ted Williams (August 30th). Anyway, I just thought I would post a picture to show Andrew (and everybody who knows me and my insane obsession) just exactly HOW far back me & the Sox go.

Check it out...



Scott Wichmann is an OLD SCHOOL RED SOX FAN.