Nerves.

I am scheduled to run a 10-K on Saturday morning.

I have a doctor's appointment for my back on Friday.

If she tells me I can't run, I will be mightily upset. I'm really looking forward to it.

For all my misanthropy and dislike of crowds, I love running in races. I love the feeling of mass effort, the simultaneous competition against my own self and the others around me. At the speed I run, it's not a life-or-death battle. It's a bunch of people who happen to like pitting themselves against their own bodies and the clock. There is, as I said, competition in between the runners, but it's more of a spur than a "I must beat this other person or I will never be able to look myself in the eye again." Well, at least for me. I wouldn't be able to enjoy running if I were more invested in beating other people. What makes me run is the knowledge that I can improve every day, every race. I can beat myself, I can top my own records, I can look at a tough goal and say, "I can do that." It may take me a while, but I can do it, and I know how.

I love running and hate it at the same time. I love it because I can do it anytime, anywhere, as long as my body is up for it. I hate it because it is really fucking hard sometimes. It's punishing and brutal, and yet I must. I have no choice. I take a week off here and there, but I keep returning to it. Much like theater, but that's a different essay.

So, I run. And I will run Saturday. Unless I am told not to. Then we'll talk.

Theater

Zach and I were discussing what separates the independent theaters from the community theaters. Independent theaters can't afford to pay the cast and crew very much, if at all. Community theaters don't pay, period. So, what's the real difference?

It comes down to attitude and aggregate talent, really. It can't be budget or production values, because I've sat through mare than my fair share of shoddily built and laughably executed cabaret-style and small theater shows. There are large community theaters that compete with the Orpheum for lavishness of sets and costumes. There are community theaters that produce excellent work. (Then again, there's a reason "Waiting For Guffman" is greeted with pained howls of laughter by most of my friends. The blind earnestness and egotism that is so rampant.... Oy. It's funny because it's true.)

I think the difference lies in the fact that many of us may not be able to make a living at theater, but we do make a life out of it. We work jobs to support our career. Most people who work in independent theater define themselves as actors or directors or techies first. If not first, it's in the top three. We may not even aspire to be a big shot, to work at the Guthrie, to go to New York. We may be happy to choose to have a day job and sacrifice our nights to Thalia and Melpomene, to have no free time to speak of. But above all, theater is what we do, what we are. It is our family.

Working in independent theater affords a peculiar kind of freedom. It is a given that the show will not make money, no matter how desperate the financial straits. When the show does (and they sometimes do), it's greeted with astonished joy. But even in their impoverished state, the best independent theaters hold themselves up to a high standard. The set may painted the same grey that three previous productions used, there may be a grand total of 10 light instruments, and the sound may be coming from a boombox, but by god it's going to be a good show. It's going to make you forget the threadbare nature of your surroundings, or it will force you to look at it and accept it. Either way, you will see something good. Sometimes the plan fails, but that freedom, the knowledge that the entire show budget is less than one Equity actor's weekly pay, allows us to take risks and to try to do things in new and strange ways. We want to be, look, and act professional, even if we can't afford to.

Community theaters are for and by the community. Therefore, they tend to do their best to be inclusive, to make sure community members get to participate, to make sure people have fun, to not offend too much. Independent theaters are under no such onus. They owe themselves and that's it. This can be a liability, especially when the founders and/or board are not as talented as they think they are, but again, it allows for risk. No one will go broke doing a show for a community theater. A lot of independent theater founders choose to put on a show rather than pay rent. A bad season can bankrupt an independent producer and drag their credit rating down. It's a hell of a lot more personal at this level.

I grew up in community theater. The support and cooperation of various members was and is amazing to see. Still and all, I'd rather work in independent theater/guerilla theater/small professional theater, whatever the hell you want to call it. I like not being bound to strict union rules, and I like not having to worry about the community's approval. I like taking that risk.

So, there you go. The (sometimes incredibly fine) distinction between community and independent theater, as laid out by one "theater person".