Lesbian Dancing After The Show: An Improviser's Non Improvised Life

San Francisco Mayor Mauling

As an actor, I have always said this about other actors who are far more popular and successful than myself: Congratulations on that agent.

No malice. No hate. Seriously. Congratulations on that agent.

I would suppose this could easily translate to other professions that attract media attention: musicians (congrats on the record contract), sports figures (congrats on the whoever scouted you), and of course other writers (congrats on the book signing/reading/publicist/self-publishing/you scraping up the dough to join the WGA).

The same could also be said for politicians. Hey, baby. Congrats on having really good aides who helped you win running a district/town/state/country.

And as with actors who I find not to be the greatest actors in the world, with politicians I think the same thing quietly in the back of mind: Please don't fuck this up.

I had never met a politician before, not until then San Francisco's Mayor Gavin Newsom. I have been close to political figures somewhere in a crowd of other supporters screaming Hurray! For these efforts I have received nice churned-out Christmas cards from Al Gore (in the Scholar Beard Days) and President-elect Bill Clinton (the envelope I still hold from '92 is handwritten, impressive only for the idea that someone was somewhere in a room with some very cramped hands).

Mayor Gavin Newsom I met up close, face to face. And to my sheer joy? I was accidentally MAULED.

For two years I was honored to host The San Francisco Family Festival at Yerba Buena Gardens, a wonderful event that promotes families staying and thriving in San Francisco. It is sponsored by the city; even the transportation was free on that day to children and families to get to the event.

My job: Be funny. Keep the kids moving. Watch some extremely talented kids perform. Mess around with them. Keep them moving. Mess with audience and stall for time. Be funny. But not "Nighttime Funny."

In short: I'm a child wrangler.

Meanwhile, I was going back and forth to Mill Valley for the movie I was in at the Mill Valley Film Festival 2006. Driving back and forth in a rented car from Marin to Downtown SF late at night. If you got close to me that day, I was a little worse for wear.

I get to the venue early behind the Martin Luther King Fountain and I'm informed that "Gav" will be doing a speech and I need to fit him in.

Cool by me I proclaim. I will squeeze The Gav in.

All of this, though, seems more complicated for others to grasp. When the performances began, every once in a while worried Mayor Wranglers would come up to me and say things like The Mayor is almost here or The Mayor is delayed or The Mayor is going to the Rock Wall.

Mayor Wranglers?

I want a goddamn wrangler. Out of all the things in the world, I want someone to go up to someone else and say, Ms. Landry is on the toilet, she will be here in a minute, or Ms. Landry is outrageously flirting with someone... She will be here in a minute.

I want a wrangler. But I digress.

I calm the Mayor Wranglers with a soft coo: Hey...when the mayor shows up...it's cool. He will get up here no matter what. I'm all jiggy pro like that...yo.

Ten minutes later I'm in the middle of stalling for the SF Boys Choir to set up. Talking about rock walls. I remember saying Remember folks there are great activities today! There is even a rock wall! Rumor has it that our mayor just might be...