"... and I can see Canada from my hotel"

Yep, Niagara Falls is up there. I mean WAY up there. So far up there, in fact, that the sidewalks had a good foot-and-a-half of snow on them when I arrived. (Thankfully, the streets had been plowed.) When I arrived at the Crowne Plaza, my favorite upscale hotel chain, I found myself in one of their super-deluxe rooms, with a view of the Canadian border out the window. Does this give me foreign policy experience? Can't decide.

My night was sweetened by a trip across the street to the Seneca Niagara casino, which constitutes my first trip to a casino, ever. And I did OK, I think. Careful with money by nature, the most I was willing to risk was $5 in the 2¢ slots. By the time I finished, I was up $1.02. I've decided that this is karma partially paying me back for Tuesday. However, at the same time, the whole experience was a little frightening and surreal: no clocks or windows, and rows of people sucking down cigarettes as they push the lighted buttons, hoping to hit it big. A small part of me wanted to go into the "I will never smoke" section from Musical Health Show (I get the kids to say it in English, and then we learn it in sign language), but I decided that this would not be prudent. Eventually, my winnings and I found our way back across the street and into my super-comfy bed. I was asleep within moments of hitting the pillow.



Next morning found me at a very small Catholic school. Which is, I recall from Max and Ruby, always an interesting proposition. On one hand, they are the best-behaved audience you will ever find. On the other hand, they're so well behaved that it can be like pulling teeth to get them to participate. These kids were a little quiet at the beginning, but I think I won them over. I was particularly impressed that my sixth graders in the back actually volunteered to come up onstage and participate. Even the adults, a few of whom were appeared skeptical at first, were with me by the end. "You've got so much energy," the contact told me. "Is that because you had three cups of coffee?" I refrained from answer.

On the way back home, I decided to play tourist and stop by the Falls. Indeed, it is the dead of winter, but how often does one make it to Niagara Falls? Anyway, I was just about the only person there, so I had my meditative, gathering moment, took some photos, waved at Canada (again) and began my return trip to Brooklyn. Where I arrived seven hours later.



Week 1 completed, and I'm still in one piece. Let's hope for less action next week.

Call tomorrow, er, Sunday: sometime mid-afternoon. I need to get up to Norwich, NY, so I'll be ready for an 8:45am. Yikes!

Kid quote of the day: Tiny little pre-K Joshua came up for the Champion's Challenge, one of the participative parts of Musical Health Show. I chose him to demonstrate his abilities in "strength." As I am wont to do, I asked him if he thought he was strong. Joshua's response: "Strong... like this," as curled his biceps and smiled wide. After he completed his push-up feat, he hugged me around the ankles and ran back to his seat. And, as everyone was filing out, I heard Joshua's voice: "Slim Goodbody's my friend."

Nostalgia Trip

I'm in Niagara Falls, NY, after a very long drive across most of the Empire State (and a stop at the base of the Adirondacks for a show). It was a much better driving day today: blue skies, dry roads, NPR stations all the way there. However, I think anything would have been better than yesterday. After being rear-ended, I was run off the road by a truck, which turned into a spin-out and sent me into a ditch. Had it not been for the very nice man with the 4-by-4 and a leather strap, I would probably still be there now.

On a brighter note, John Burstein, the original Slim Goodbody and my producer, called me from outside the country to check in, after hearing of my exciting drive through Pennsylvania. He also bought me dinner that night, and I dined on Linguini with Clam Sauce and Tuscan wine. Italian-American comfort foods. Which I really needed. Thanks John!

Anyway, the show today reminded me that Slim Goodbody is, for much of my audience, a fond nostalgia trip. Before today's performance, a young-ish teacher approached me as I was setting up and inquired if I was going to be doing the presentation. When I said that I was, she started to get really excited. "Slim Goodbody was one of my favorite shows growing up," she said. "Can I get a picture with you?"

When I started up the Musical Health Show (and, by the way, the handstand is back in, and garnered plenty of "Oohs" and "Aahs" from all ages), I was pleased to see that the kids were really excited and attentive. But I was most surprised to see the teachers chatting and excitedly pointing in the back. As I landed the final beat of the opening song, I caught a snip of conversation from one of the closest teachers: "I was a big Captain Kangaroo fan. Is the original guy still around?" Amazingly, at this show, there were times when the teachers were more excited to participate than the kids -- I actually wound up having a few teachers raise their hands when I asked for volunteers. And, afterward, one teacher eagerly pulled me aside and told me, in confidence, that "I was so excited to hear that Slim Goodbody was coming to our school! I wish he was still on TV!"

So, I guess, I'm not just playing for the recommended K-6 age ranges. For a sizable chunk of the audience, my shows are a trip down memory lane. Some of the songs, and some of Slim's bits, are pulled directly from the early TV show, and that causes a sort-of recognition. And, now that I'm starting to get a little more comfortable with the show, I'm starting to enjoy watching my audience respond to me. There's the expected shock at the top of the show (Michael and I put in a five second "moment for the costume" immediately after I enter) but, generally, shock quickly gives way to smiles, laughter, some pointing and, for many, a momentary return to their childhood days. Which is certainly not something I anticipated.

Call tomorrow: 8:20am, Crowne Plaza parking lot.

Kid quote of the day: As my audience filed in, I hid behind the backdrop. Apparently, I was sort-of in view for a small segment of my audience at one point, because a very observant little girl screached, "I see a shoe! A shoe!! And a leg!! TWO LEGS!!!"

Bam!

Recall from yesterday's post that the show today was sorta TBD, dependent on weather in PA. You see (and my Northeast readers are already well-aware of this fact), my entire touring territory is currently under a Winter Weather Advisory. A big one. So big, in fact, that my contact informed me that my show would probably be canceled. "I'll call you around 5am if it is," she told me. "Otherwise, just assume we're still expecting you." Since the show was a six hour drive from my hotel (on freeways that were under "snow" conditions), I was hoping for a snow day myself.

When my alarm when off at 5am, there was no message.

When I checked online at 5:30am, the website reported a two-hour delay.

When I got out to the car by 6am, there was no message.

After driving for about two-and-a-half hours on slick freeways dotted with snowplows and spun-out cars, I finally got a text message from my contact:

"belle vernon closed. we will need to reschedule. thanks be careful"

I hightailed it off the interstate, called the office to let them know what was up, and headed my way to a Starbucks (thanks to my trusty GPS; love this thing!) It was only 8:35am, so I had plenty of time to get to my next hotel, and could even run some show-related errands. So nice to have an unexpected free, relaxing day.

Or so I thought. Within 0.6 miles of the my destination (yay Garmin nüvi!), and while stopped at a red light, I was rear-ended by an SUV. BAM!

Now, for those of you who are worried, I am OK. Perhaps a little achy, but OK. My props and set all look OK. Her car is pretty much fine (her license plate fell off, I think). My poor little Honda Civic, however, looks like this:



Yeah.

Stephanie, my manager at the Slim Goodbody office, talked me down and helped me through the logistics of insurance and registration. The other driver was just as shaken as I, so we chatted and made each other comfortable in her car while we waited for the police to arrive. For my sanity -- and because I have almost 1000 miles of driving ahead of me before I get back to Brooklyn -- I had the car visually checked out at a local Honda dealership. So now it's back to the tour. I'm currently resting up at the originally-intended Starbucks, waiting out the worst of it before I head towards my hotel. Which has a whirlpool with my name on it...

Call tomorrow: 7:30am (or maybe 8am), Inn at Nichols Village. I'm off to the Adirondacks!

Police Officer Quote of the Day: "You have a bodysuit with organs in your car." "Yes officer, it must have fallen out of my bag." "I'm not going to ask..."

Wham!

Today began my first day with the other (and, by the look of my schedule, more popular) show, Musical Health Show. This one plays great with the little ones, and not-so-great with the older kids. Luckily, today, the max level I'd be seeing was second grade.

I was groggy when I woke up, and, after a quick drive to the first school (and an even quicker nap in the parking lot), I checked in, set up, changed and prepared for my room full of first graders. The contact was clearly very happy to have me there. Everything was going great! As I opened the curtain to reveal the set, the kids ooh-ed and ah-ed. When I first appeared in the costume, they laughed and pointed. As I started the opening number, they clapped along. It was starting out as a DREAM show.

Until the handstand.

In rehearsal, Michael asked me to come up with something impressive and funny for the end of the opening number. The lyrics -- "A body of wondrous possibilities / A body of numerous capabilities" -- seem to warrant something showy. After a few tries, we settled on a handstand into a round-off as my "super-capable" body demonstration. However, as I prepped the handstand, I started to sense something was awry. The stage was a bit narrower than I had originally noticed, so I backed myself up all the way to my drop and readied myself. Next thing I knew, I was face-down on the stage, with the entire backdrop (and frame!) on top of me. After crawling out from under the drop, I caught a glimpse of the audience: the kids howled and clapped; the teachers looked confused and nervous; the contact covered her face.

Once I regained my senses, I stopped my recorded track and asked for a few teachers to help me put my stage back together. I got the kids to do some interactive stuff as I assessed the damage. Seemed that a peg atop the frame had snapped, and there was nothing to do for this show to get the backdrop fully up. I rigged the drop so it would stay somewhat flat and continued on with the show. Which went great, especially when I got off the stage and actually entered the audience for high-fives and the quick-y running demonstration.

Needless to say, the handstand is temporarily on hiatus from the show.

Call tomorrow: 6:00am (pending weather conditions; big storm on the way and school may be canceled), parking lot of the Hilton Newark Airport. Yes, Hilton. Single room. And I'm not paying for it. This ain't no Theaterworks tour...

Kid quote of the day: (after the "Bone Rap" song) "I hurt my joint once," said a very excited little girl, as she pointed to her ear. Hmm...

Day One

Today was trial by fire. My first day out, and it's the heaviest schedule I can have: a three show day. And, amazingly, it was decidedly a "win."

6:02am
My cell phone alarm goes off, along with my computer, my alarm clock, my watch and my iPod. Not taking any chances with this one. Despite the fact I didn't sleep much anyway (nerves and excitement got the best of me), I was ready to go.

6:45am
My self-proclaimed call time. Teacher-roommate Ed helps me carry my stuff down to the car as he heads off to school. "Looks like we'll have similar schedules for the next few weeks," he says. Sounds about right.

7:02am
I pass a Dunkin' Donuts with a parking lot on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Coffee is considered, but abandoned, although this fortuitous discovery is noted.

7:47am
Stuck on the Belt Parkway. Stuck, stuck, stuck!! And only 13 minutes until I need to be a the first school.

8:02am
I pull into the parking lot of my West Babylon school. How this worked, I have NO idea.

8:18am
All hell breaks loose. First, the backdrop poles topple over as I'm adjusting them, snapping a connecting joint off, sending it flying into a mass of curtains, and twisting the telescoping poles that hold everything together. Next, ALL of my batteries turn out to be dead. Then, the microphone receiver starts picking up a Spanish-language radio station. And, just to add insult to injury, the bodysuit is soaked by an accidental kick of the water bottle. AHH!!!

8:42am
The contact arrives with a cup of coffee. For me. All is better.

9:03am
First show. Lighten Up! for Kindergarten through 2nd Grade. This is my first Slim Goodbody show EVER, and I know I'm pushing. A lot. So much so, in fact, that I almost throw up about three-quarters of the way through the show. The kids, although perhaps a little young, play along beautifully. As much as I want to take in all the good vibes coming from the audience, it is all I can do to make sure I get through in one piece. My voice is hoarse by the end, and I chug a Coke when we're done. And I have 10 minutes of turn-around.

10:07am
Second show. Lighten Up! for 3rd through 5th Grade. Perhaps it's the exhaustion, perhaps it's the fact that I've finally gotten one out of my system, perhaps it's the lingering nausea, but I manage to lay back a little more this time and have fun. Let the kids do some of the work for me, and not "put out" for them. Remember all that stuff we learn in acting school? Well, it works for the pre-teen and under set. Miraculously, the show starts to come to life, and I'm even managing to engage the angry-looking 5th grade boys at the back of the room. I still get nauseous near the end, but it's not nearly as bad.

11:27am
I load out through the cafeteria as my Kindergartners are eating lunch. I get about 20 high-fives, and one little girl asking for my autograph. I am a rock star!!

12:37pm
In Bellmore, lunched and ready to for action! My PTA contact seems very nervous, but pulls the space together beautifully, and even provides me with a bottle of water. I am informed that I will have grades pre-K through 6th. I chug another Coke.

1:51pm
Third show. Lighten Up! The entire school is there. Everyone, plus a few parents. As I enter at the top of the show, a pre-K girl points and screams, "I don't like it!! I don't like it!!" That, however, is the worst of it. Again, I don't know hos it happens, but I manage to engage 245 students, from the littlest to (most of) the oldest. And I'm on top of the world! The show is fun, it's fresh, it's goofy, it's unexpected. The principal invites me out for a bow (this is not standard Slim procedure). I want to hug every child in the audience.

2:42pm
The principal approaches me as I'm packing up. "You've been here before, haven't you." When I tell her that this is my first day, and my third show, her jaw drops. I am a rock star!!

And now I'm home, setting up the new Slim Goodbody MP3 player, and trying to keep myself awake long enough to pack. Yes, pack. I'm South Jersey, Pittsburgh-, Adirondacks- and Niagara Falls-bound this week. And I leave tomorrow. It has most certainly begun...

Call time: 6:30am, two blocks from my apartment. Two performances of Musical Health Show at different schools in Jersey.

Kid quote of the day: (from a 5th Grader at the final school): Hey Slim! Where's your 'fro?
(N.B. For those of you who don't understand, click here)

What I'm In For

"Slim Goodbody is my name
And I am here to guide you
On a tour which will explore
Everything inside you"

So begins the Musical Health Show, one of the two 50-minute presentations that will control my life for the next five weeks. You see, I am proudly portraying the famous Slim Goodbody on the road here in the Northeast. Yes, that Slim Goodbody. The one with the bodysuit that has all the organs on the outside that taught you about health. Yes, the one who was on Captain Kangaroo, PBS and Nickelodeon many years ago. Yes, he's still around and, yes, I'm him.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of preparation and orientation. Justin, who currently plays the role (but is off on the California leg while I hold down the fort here), was kind enough to show me the ropes while I shadowed his performances for five days. With him, I saw the good and the bad, from perfect children who played along beautifully, to surly fifth graders who did everything but throw tomatoes, to car problems, to school security officers who escorted me from the auditorium (during the show!) and questioned me about my association with the company. Between those experiences, and our daily post-show Starbucks stops, I think I have a pretty good idea of what to expect -- anything and everything.

And then it was time to rehearse. Michael, my director, worked me through the shows (the other one is called Lighten Up!) and shared tips from his years of experience with the role, both on the road and as a director. We worked, reworked, tried, retried, tooled and retooled a hundred bits of action, from my now-rolling robot assistant XRBOT (expect a introduction soon) to the gosh-darn-near-impossible-to-master "sugar spike" props (click here for a peek). And, you know what? We created two 50-minute shows, and a version of Slim, that feel very much like mine. Which, to be quite honest, I find somewhat incredible.

And now I'm on the road. Or, tomorrow at least. Which is at once exciting and terrifying. This is not my first experience with touring (my more devoted readers will recall the Alien Green Gorilla blog from Max & Ruby), but it is my first experience touring alone, in a Honda, with a GPS as my guide. And, while I have done one-man shows, they are nothing like the high-energy, always-on productions that are Slim Goodbody. And, while I'm just starting out, I realize that there are a long line of Slims before me, each of whom has made it, survived it and (in many cases) come back for more. I'm sure this tour will have its challenges, agonizing moments and heartaches (and you can expect tasteful reports right here), but, I'm not too worried. Truly, few things bring me more joy than a room packed with kids, each one smiling along with me. And, if what I've seen so far is any indication, that is certainly what I'm in for.



Kid quote of the day: (this one is from shadowing Justin) "Is that man naked?" "No, Jonathan." "Then why isn't he wearing any clothing?"

Call time: 6:45am, right outside my apartment.

P.S. For those interested in what this whole "Slim Goodbody" thing is all about, check out the company website. I'm doing the "School Assemblies" and, if you follow the links, you can check out short video montages of the two shows.