The town I live in is quirky, mainly because our economy is driven by theater. Each year more than 300,000 people come to our little college town of 20,000 to see some eleven plays in three theaters. Because the Oregon Shakespeare Festival employs 500 people, you run into a lot of theater folks while doing your everyday business. The one place it’s becoming a bit much, however, is the gym.
I understand multitasking, but must one practice one’s monologue while other people are trying to catch up on their trash TV? I mean the whole reason I joined this gym was because every single machine had a TV attached to it running expanded cable – I was going to multitask by loading up on makeover shows on the Style Network while simultaneously burning my daily 500 calories. But now, as theater season swings into full gear, I’m being sabotaged by actors. Sure, I like comedia dell'arte as much as the next person on a treadmill, but even with headphones crammed as far down my ear as they’d go, I couldn’t hear a word of Dress My Nest over Truffaldino next to me running all his lines from The Servant of Two Masters while logging miles on the recumbent bike, the prefect piece of exercise equipment, it seems, for wild gesticulation.
3 weeks ago