Periscope Depth

and then this dangle got all up in my rotisserie

The Power of Positive Thinking
I dropped my camera on a kitchen floor on Friday night, taking it out to show to Lisa F. It slid a short distance, popping the battery compartment open and sending the battery flying. I reassembled it and turned it back on: worked fine! Still snapped pictures and everything.

Only later did I find that, when I switched from Take Pictures to Review Pictures mode, the camera would now wait about ten seconds before retracting the lens. This is a minor annoyance but, on the grand scale of Things That Could Happen When I Drop My Camera On Linoleum, is relatively minor. Fortune smiles upon my amateurish, grainy Facebook pics.

Spatula, Proctologist, Space Station, Etc.
Why did I have my camera with me this entire weekend? For ImprovBoston’s first annual Boston Improv Festival, which I went to most of the parties for despite only seeing one show. Will Luera, Dan Binderman, Becky Pineo and Kate Garvey* did one hell of a job putting this together, and the results kept shocking us. I had never seen the theater so packed on Saturday, not just from the out-of-towners (troupes from as far as Canada or Mexico) but from locals new to the theater. This weekend made me proud to be associated with ImprovBoston, however tangentially. I hope the theater made a truckload of cash.

I first hit up the Wednesday BIF afterparty at Asgard, snacking on comped quesadillas and watching the Mexican improv troupe lead the entire bar in a rousing chorus of “El Rey.” Misch texted me for Friday’s afterparty at Becky’s house, though she neglected to provide me directions (Lisa F. came through). I stayed there until at least 3:30, wandering the mansion Becky lives in and catching up with improv people from all over. Saturday I wanted to leave early, but then I ran into Dr. Grace at Tavern on the Square, followed shortly thereafter by the rest of ImprovBoston. So what could I do?

I only saw one show, so I made it count: Spinning Hardcore, Anna W. and Kristen A’s world-famous air-guitar punk-rock ensemble. They reduced an audience to helpless, disbelieving giggles, including several people who’d never seen them before (jaded New Yorkers, even). Following them: Focus, a four-woman improv show that delivered a note-perfect satire of The View. There was the elderly retired lawyer, the saucy comedienne, the Ivy League lawyer and the Christian mom: each fully realized and often hilarious. They discussed DJ AM’s death, historical trivia about Boston and President Obama’s speech to school children, telling them that they each had something to contribute (“well, that’s ridiculous“).

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* I’m doubtless forgetting someone important.