The unknown use of a cycling jersey....

For those not "in the know" those handy-dandy, lycra-infused shirts with zippers down the front and - if your' elite enough to get them - sponsors' trademarks/logos all over them are called "jerseys". Yes, they make one look like a stock car on two wheels, and yes, they are designed by the same fellas who design clown outfits. That being said, there is nothing quite like a matching "kit" - and yes, it can be candy-apple red, puce, and purple, and a cyclist somewhere will call it "sweet". Oh, and the complete kit (matching shorts, socks, jersey and sometimes even shoes) will probably run about $250.00. But I digress.

In a hurry to get out of the house tonight to head to play rehearsal, I tossed on a jersey. I was merely thinking of something that could possibly keep me cool on stage. I did not yet know of the cool usefulness that was to come. So there I am, thinking that I'm looking pretty cool in my jersey, going through rehearsal. Now, I must explain that the particular scene for which I was called - the one where I play the character "Peasant" - is a physically active scene. I have two lines. They are: "My arm's shot" and "The baby's still in there." BUT, in this scene, I must feign smoke inhillation, a shot through my bicep, an injury of the head (just for giggles) and that my home is burning down and my child is still in the house - even though I assume when you're a parent, you largely stop mattering at all, and only the child is important. Oh yes, and my stage"wife" is also pulled from the building without thinking of the child. Riiiiiiiiight. So, it's a physically active scene. Coughing, shortness of breath, terror, awe, gratefullness, etc, etc. All this must be conveyed to the audience.

Now, to memorize my lines is no great task. I can at least manage this much - you see, I've acted once or twice before - and to memorize my cues is likewise no great task. All I have to do is listen for my cues and then go. For this, the time that I need to spend with my script is limited, at best. But, since I'm still allowed to have it on stage, you'd better believe it's coming with me! So, after about 6 takes of the scene - which was only "blocked" (for those not theatrically minded, "blocking" is where the director tells you what he wants, even though he's going to change his mind about the whole thing three days later) yesterday - I discover that I am really without need of it, and there I am, on stage with a lot of paper in my hands, and I'm supposed to be escaping from a burning building.

Now, cycling jerseys usually have three pockets sewn into the back of them. This is where riders will stash all sorts of useful things: food, water, iPods, race radios, biological passports, spare tubes, cell phones, etc. You name it, a cyclist has probably tried to put it into his jersey. Why? Well the pockets are THERE, we might as well use them! In fact, I once heard of a cyclist who tried to pack a chihuahua into his jersey. That one...it didn't end well. Now, this particular jersey is one typically worn when doing off-road stuff - so it only has one big pocket in the back, which zips open and closed. Well, I didn't need my script...and I. Have. One. Big-assed. Zippable. Pocket.

So, into the pocket goes my script, and I sputter, cough, heave, fall, bleed, forget my baby, remember that I fogot the baby, and hug my stage wife (who, I should mention, is a brilliant actress and really makes it easy to act with - thanks, Elizabeth!). It was brilliant. BRILLIANT, I say! Hey, for the first night of actually working the scene, it was some good work! The director was pleased - and that's not always easy. All in all, it was a good hour's worth of work, and further proof that the cycling lifestyle is benficial to everything.