Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Logan Out Loud: Blaydor's Nomads

I was homeless once for three days due not to a lack of funds but a lack of preparation. I had moved out of my summer housing without bothering to find a new place to live for the school year (because I don't live by your system, government tool). During two of those homeless nights I slept on a couch (a very comfortable couch by the way, one which is now for sale!) at the Logan Arthouse.

Jonathan and James Ribera--proprietors of the Arthouse--were kind enough to let me stay there. But after a couple of days I got it in my mind that things needed to change. It occurred to me that keeping my worldly possessions in a Chevy Bonneville and sleeping in a business weren't things that successful people do for too long when they have other options. So I moved in with my grandparents for a couple weeks. Was it ideal? No. But it had its moments. Also, I can't complain because I was the one who decided that my days of wandering were over but didn't want to go looking for more permanent housing.

I'm getting off topic. Homelessness has struck once again, but this time, it's personal...just like last time....Logan Out Loud, providers of the finest improveries in Logan, got news yesterday that their last show at the Arthouse will be this coming Saturday. Apparently (not to name names), this tool named Lance (he's as much a tool as his name suggests) who runs an archery store behind the Arthouse decided that archery sales were going way up this year with the advent of Hawkeye, Katniss, and that really brave girl from Brave (is she brave? I haven't seen it, but I bet she is). With that firmly in Lance the Tool's mind, he set in motion events that led to the Ribera's leaving or paying through the nose for an issue that they didn't create. Then he swooped in (but not like a majestic bird, more like a sentient sea slug, constantly moaning, "My life is worthless") and put an offer down on the place.

I don't want to go into too much detail, so I'll just summarize by saying: Lance is a tool.

From now on, this is known as a Lance kit

So Logan Out Loud roams the streets now, looking for empty stages or abandoned theaters at which they can rustle up a few chuckles before moving on and, thanks to Lance (remember Lance? He's a tool), Logan has once again become a comedy wasteland.

But that's just the depression talking! Fellow adventurers, do not despair. I would not leave you without a king (guys, I'm the king). And no one even try to usurp me because I will conclude you in the most unceremonious manner.

Anyway, now that you are all reassured, allow me to continue. I learned from my homeless experience that if you have time to prepare you had best get on it immediately. Besides, we can't do shows at my grandparents' house. It attracts a weird crowd (I mean old people. Yes, you). As a group we brainstormed our next steps in becoming more powerful than before.

"Take it from me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, death is the first step to a better life!" 

First: we posted on Facebook (which is apparently still a thing?) that we are having our last show at the Arthouse this Saturday, and everyone was like, "What?" "NOOOOOOO!!!" and, "I will be there." And we were like, "Cool." So we rallied the fans, but that wasn't enough.

B: we posted to the Utah Improv Forum on Facebook (still a thing, for now...) that we were willing to perform with other troupes as individuals or in a competitive fashion and got endorsement from Calvin Dittmore (if you don't know Calvin, you don't know anything). Now we will be the "it" thing aaaaaaaaaaaaall up and down this great state. But was that enough? NO!

3: we made a bunch of plans that we had better follow through with in the next week or we are dead in the water, dead like a flotsam constructed entirely of dead rats, floating aimlessly in the ocean.

Multiply this by two-thousand, now multiply that by death. You get the idea.

!: we all spent the evening in mourning, pretty much moping around and lamenting the death of our dearly departed comedy troupe. But with the rise of the morning sun (which, did you know, rises every morning?) picked ourselves up from our puddle of tears, loosened our belts (we binged on candy because we're sad. So what?), and looked forward to a brand new chapter in our saga:

BLAYDOR'S NOMADS

We will rise again, stronger, more handsome, more dexterous, with better teeth, because we've broadened our horizons. Local comedy is good, but college tours are better. So look out, Salt Lake Community College and various instances of Stephens-Henager College. We're coming for you. We're coming to make you laugh. Also, we're coming for your money. Don't think that this is a charity thing.

Of course, the college thing isn't certain yet, but we're putting it in motion. Something about irons in a fire? I don't get it. But that's what we've got. A bunch of irons in a fire. Because we're going to have a lot of wrinkly shirts after the whupping we bring down upon those who get in our way (is that how that colloquialism is used? Yes, it is).

Wish us luck, fellow adventurers!

A bunch of tools, or, Lance-a-lot

P.S. Dear old people: I'm sorry I insulted you. We love you, with your wrinkly skin and your creaky bones and your wheezy cough (oh, how we love your wheezy cough! It is the infirmity that we love most of all!). Please never leave us.

4 comments:

  1. Guess I better get all of my shit outta the art house... You guys can perform in my back yard. Really though. It could work out nicely.

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  2. Dude you guys are more then welcome to preform with USU Improv club. I'm sad I'll miss your last show at the Arthouse. You guys rock!

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  3. Well, damn, Kendall - I wanted to see this improv comedy. I mean us creaky old people can do groupie with the best of them.

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  4. We'll still do it, Jan. Just not sure where yet...

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