The proof is in the pudding. Reputations are built, and built well, because we’re more than buildings and venues. We’re more than just one of 50 listings on a Saturday night. Even with other bars, bands and performers, there’s only one thing happening when it’s time for us to do what we do.
There’s a reason so many fall in love with our brick and mortar river city.
We’re together, and only growing stronger. There’s a love and respect you don’t get too many places when you are on our stage. It’s a feeling that comes easy when close to a thousand people are behind what you’re doing—when all you have to worry about is doing what you do best.
Show-Me weekend is now behind us, and as the memories, inside jokes and pictures flood our Facebook feeds, and some return home while others of us to our daily bread, a strange sense of loss, longing and depression inevitably starts to set in.
I see it all around me.
It’s not unlike Christmas; you spend months thinking about it, planning for it, getting into the spirit.
And then it’s over.
Though it never really is. Some will return to perform again soon, others will return, only to find themselves calling this town home. We’ll keep writing and planning our Beggar’s Carnivales, it will continue to evolve with the cast, the venue, the music—the production. Because we believe in it. Because we’re more than performers. We’re family. We have one another’s back, we’re here to inspire, give courage, to critique, collaborate and even hug it out when the artist in us takes over. We’re in this together. We’re inclusive, but good judges of character. We’re dedicated to the craft above the hype.
We will continue to be a premier city for burlesque and variety, a gateway to the West, East, North and South and the perfect place to find your name. A place where you won’t get lost, unless that’s how you arrive, but even then, if you try hard enough, you can always find yourself. Amongst friends.
I’m not feeling the post-show-me blues this year. I’m happy to return to my daily life, as I prepare for TV production and some great new opportunities to think deeply about the human psyche and what drives us to make our choices.
I’m happy to roll up my sleeves and dive back into the challenge of my career.
I’m happy to relax and pet my dogs, hold my woman tightly as our legs twist together like silk ribbons.
I’m happy to put on my tie and live up to my name, day in and day out, because I know there’s more. Plenty more.
There always is. The music, the shows, the passion and love. The drinking and banging and swearing and dancing. The respect. The memories to be made, the bridges to burn, the demons to cast out to make room for more uplifting spirits…
Tomorrow, two days after the flying pasties and twirling tassles were packed away, two days after the open bars and open arms closed…Two days after the gorgeous and talented ones kissed my cheek, called me daahhhhling and said goodbye, as I continue to find false eyelashes in the bathroom, sequined fabric in-between sofa cushions and somehow, glitter in the strangest of body cavities, I will still be in this world of sparkle and the talented.
Two days later, as I finalize our filming schedule, cook dinner for my lady and sit on the back porch exploring the economics of thought with a cocktail and smoke, I will still be the Dapper King Libertine.
I will close my eyes and still hear the sounds of the crowd cheering and hooting and hollering and applauding, and begin thinking about what we’ll do next.
I have a few ideas.
It’s good to be the king.