The PPPP

   Today, I got back to the theater for the second show right at half hour (meaning, half hour until the show starts).  I found a neatly typed piece of paper with two line notes waiting for me in my dressing room.  It said:

     Kristine:                "He put me up against this television set."

                                     "I'm a birdie on the wing."

     It seems I had gotten my articles (a, an, and the) mixed up.  I guess I had said the television set and on a wing, instead.  Well, with those mistakes, I am surprised the audience could even understand what I was saying!  Actually, I do have a little bit of a beef with the first note--I know I have been saying this television set. I repeated it the other way--the wrong way--out loud, and it sounded absolutely foreign on my tongue, like I had never said that before.  Now, I am not above a mistake, but I just don't think I made that mistake.  However, I fully accept responsibility for the latter correction--I very well could have said a instead of the.  To be honest, it's been a very long time since I have even looked at the script.  And to be even more honest, I would have a difficult time looking at it now, because I don't know where it is.  

    When we first started rehearsing for this show, the creative team couldn't stress enough that this show did not only win a bunch of tonys, it also won the pulitzer prize.  Therefore, we could not paraphrase anything.  My character happens to say the words, well, ah and oh a lot.  And, under no circumstances can I flip their order, add to them, or take away one of them.  Apparently, a pulitzer prize is some kind of big deal, or something.  

    Actually, back in Denver,  Ian and I started talking about the PPPP.  We were lucky enough to notice them, I guess.  It all started with Ian talking to me about the sweater he wears for part of his costume.  The, ah, $1000 sweater.  Yeah, I guess it's pretty special.  So I was like, what, is it hand woven by a tribe of pygmies?  And he was like, as a matter of fact, yeah, it is.  Then, when all of us were getting noted for any kind of minute paraphrasing, we started realizing the creative team was getting help.  Turns out these pygmies live in the theater--whatever theater we happen to be in; they follow us, apparently--and not only do they weave our costumes (not for free, mind you), but they also are constantly saying in their high-pitched, pygmy voices: pulitzer prize, pulitzer prize...They say it so often that it has become their mantra. It echoes through the halls, a chatter that is just barely audible. 

   And that is not all.  They also demand to be fed.  We've taken to leaving them some food before we leave, not unlike what some kids do for Santa on Christmas Eve.  The difference is, if a kid forgets to leave Santa a cookie, he doesn't bite the kid in his sleep.  I have found a few little marks on my legs that were unaccounted for.  But, Ian and I finally realized it was those pesky pygmies.  So, now we are very good at feeding them.  Oh, and they are the little tattle-tales who alert the stage managers to any kind of paraphrasing we do.  I am almost positive it was the PPPP (Pulitzer Prize non-Paraphrasing Pygmies) who I have to thank for that note I got today.   

   So, yeah, they can be difficult, but they sure do run a tight ship.  We don't paraphrase, for the most part.  But if we do, we know about it right away and correct it accordingly.  They are demanding little pygmies, that's for sure.  But, they sure do weave a sweater like nobody's business.