Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

Last night, I asked one of the members of the improv group I direct to leave. She just wasn't working out. I wish I could say I did it with laser beam precision. I was more like a tipsy chainsaw. It took way too long for me to make the cut. Finally, I had to admit to her, "This sucks and it sucks worse for you than it does for me." It was awkward. It was ugly. Now it's done. Afterwards, I treated myself to a screening of my brand spanking new Collectors Edition DVD of Master and Commander the Far Side of the World, compete with the deleted goat race scene.

Okay all you masters and commanders out there, what is up with this? Another member of my improv group says he doesn't feel like we're making all possible progress because people arrive late for rehearsal too often. He admits that he is one of the worst offenders. He proposes that I lay down the law and tell the group that if they miss X rehearsals or are late for X rehearsals, they won't be in the next show. I tell him I'll consider doing that, but at the risk of not having anyone to perform at all. (Ironically, some of our best players are often late or absent for rehearsal because of work, etc.) Then I ask him, if he knows that his chronic lateness is hurting the group, then why doesn't he just f---ing show up on time? Because he knows he doesn't have to. And having been on the other end of this conversation, I know he's right.

So this guy wants me to crack the whip. Another winces at criticism. Some want collaborative decision making. Some want autocracy. It reminds me of the Beetlejuice Cartoon (yes, the Beetlejuice Cartoon from Saturday Morning TV) when some small creatures asked Lydia to be their queen "so you can take care of us and clean up after us."