Hang It on a Fish

This post goes out to the carpool.

In the beginning, Frankenstein!! was about building. It was Sculpt or Coat under my fingernails in the morning, late nights with Pat in the garage, lots of Harvey Danger and Why?.

In the middle, it was the rehearsal space in Long Beach. It was bright lights, unfinished puppets, bonding lunches at Burger King, and a healthy dose of anxiety--are we going to get this done in time? (Fortunately, yes.)

But the last week or so was all about the carpool. Sure, we started carpooling as early as that first week, but it was in fits and starts, and never all four of us at once. That last week was when Byron, Jenny, Liesel, and I started speaking a language no one else could understand, born of that special kind of crazy you become when all your nights and weekends are spent with werewolves and Michael York.

Those carpools were glorious. We shared secrets, ate pizza (thanks, Jenny!), threatened to take Byron to MOLAA, compared everyone to Raven-Symone, and asked Tyler about his jazz pants. See, you have no idea what that means. But B-rock, J-fresh, and the test tube lady do. So, carpool, I salute you. Without you, it would have been just another show. With you, it was a wonderful experience I will never forget.

Hang it on a fish, you guys. Hang it on a fish.