YIPPEE-KI-YAY, Bloggers

Well, it’s officially started! We’ve set sail! The journey’s underway! Rehearsals for Tully have begun with a vengeance!

(Joshua William Gelb pauses. Wonders where he got that phraseology: “With a vengeance.” Hmm… Must be from Die Hard, he postulates. Though the phrase doesn’t quite fit here, does it? Who are we avenging? The Soviets? Alan Rickman? Just don’t draw attention to it. Maybe no one will notice)

Yes, Blog readers, one week in and all I ask myself when I get up in the morning is: “What in the world have I gotten myself into?” Of course, I can’t lay sole claim to this phrase. I’m quite sure it’s been uttered by many an overwhelmed man before me. Why, in this circumstance alone I’ve already plagiarized the term from my producer, Mr. Michael Height, who, for some reason, keeps telling me the show’s getting too expensive (Though I don’t really understand what the man’s talking about. I know I’ve been in some serious product placement negotiations this week). Of course, you wouldn’t guess the state of Michael Height’s financial strain from the man’s countenance and bearing. Oh no, no, no… On the outside, that Michael Height is all smiles and confidence; a refreshing burst of energy and peppermint flavor… Just like spearmint gum!

(See Michael, in that sentence alone we can pick up the rest of the budget!)

Where was I? Oh, yes! “What in the world have I gotten myself into?” I mean, firstly, at Wednesday’s rehearsal, instead of -- I don’t know -- directing, I was being, like, interviewed by this reporter from the LA Times. And, and -- and then on Friday, I’m getting calls because, turns out, Tully was mentioned in something called Entertainment Weekly. And, and, and -- and on Saturday, my parents, like, so received an unsolicited e-blast from, like, Theater Mania, like, advertising our show. And, and, and --

(Joshua William Gelb shakes his head flippantly)

You know, I just don’t think I’m ready for this kind of fame. I mean, just yesterday, walking through Times Square I was, like, accosted by a family of Japanese tourists. And I was like, “Yes, yes, I am Joshua William Gelb, the book writer and director of Tully (In No Particular Order).” And I mean, these people actually asked me to, like, take their picture with The Naked Cowboy. And I’m like, “Just cause I’m a celebrated musical theatre director, doesn’t mean I know how to work a camera.” And in the Village, it’s even worse. I mean, there are actually these tour busses of, like, gawking Midwesterners, like, following me -- like, stalking me down Broadway. And I’m like, “Yes, yes, Joshua William Gelb -- Tully (In No Particular Order) -- National Hero, I know!” And today, at, like, Virgin Megastore, this one guy actually asked me to sign an autograph for him! I was, like, “Jeez.” I mean, he was so, like, “Hey man, you have to sign your receipt,” -- but I know that trick. I totally pulled that shit on Dustin Hoffman, like, twice when I was working at Barnes and Noble. This town is disgusting. So celebrity infatuated. I’m mean really, where does it end? I’m a person too, you know. Not just some Panasonic automaton.

(What did I tell ya, Michael? Product Placement! It’s gold, Michael! Gold!)

By this time tomorrow, I bet I’m gonna need a bodyguard… Whatever happened to the Guardian Angels? They were pretty badass, with those berets and those matching jackets… Sort of like the Pink Ladies in the current revival of Grease, which, by the by, happens to be playing right now at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre!

(Do you hear the sound of antique cash registers, Michael? Do you? Because I do. KaChing! KaChing!)