How is it that I still remember the course number, DRM 203K, of that stupid pointless pathetic waste of time class that every freshman entering the UT Department of Theatre and Dance was required to take? Perhaps there are some combinations of letters and numbers that simply stick themselves to your brain and refuse to be unstuck, regardless of their lack of importance. Brain barnacles, as it were.
Anyway, that is the class where I first, uh, encountered you. I won't say we met because I don't think we ever actually did during that entire time. You were surrounded by way too many followers for any such meetings to take place. For some reason, I just decided I didn't like you. Perhaps it was your charisma or the way people seemed to fawn all over you, but I developed an opinion, and the deal was sealed.
Fast forward 6 or 7 years. My friend Mike gets himself involved with this group of theater folk called The Bedlam Faction, and introduces me to them. Lo and behold, you are among their number, and this time, we actually meet. And talk. And become friends. And you are not at all the dancing monkey clown that I had decided you were all those years back. In fact, I don't think you ever were. You're smart and cool and witty as shit, and there's not a fake thing about you, and there I am once again getting schooled with that too-often-forgotten lesson about not clinging too tightly to perceptions of people you've never even talked to. At one point, I think I even confessed all this to you, and you just laughed. Shit, I think you even gave me a hug.
Besides being one of the dopest human beings to walk the face of this planet, you're also one of the most entertaining actors I've ever had the privilege to watch. It's just sad that the world only gets to see you on stage about once a decade.
1 comment:
I took it after they changed the prefix to TD. TD323 for me. Barnacles. And then of course TD314P - the slave labor class. I don't think I remember a single other class number.
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