Well Ernie, old friend of mine, I’ve got strep throat. I haven’t had that since high school. I’m miserable. I performed today, but I’m miserable. [1. I should explain that Pied Piper was a 45 minute operetta with 35 minutes of sung music, 2 performers, and 18 puppets. At one point we had 5 active puppets on stage…] J–‘s family is being very sweet although… I’m quarantined, eating off of paper products confined to the back room.
The doctor said I couldn’t do the shows. J2– said if I felt up to it to do [the shows but] just don’t breathe on anyone.
We seem to be getting our time down on set-up. We had pretty much everything up in an hour and goofed around for the next 1/2 hour.
I’ve also got an antibiotic salve on my burned finger. The doctor was impressed that I had done that on a glue gun. [2. A third degree burn that is. The glue had dripped through a puppet’s head onto my finger. It got infected on the drive to Idaho. Ask me at a con sometime to show you the scar.] I’ve got a funky finger guard to keep from bumping it.
Funny, I pulled a hundred dollars out of per diem and spent all but 5 dollars of it on strep. Figures, eh?
