The weight of the coming world can wrench a back

Friday night I was humble-bragging to my Lady Macbeth — and assistant director Exa — how I was NOT hurting this time, unlike in 2009, and 2017, from swinging swords, fighting to the feigned death against kids 20 years or more younger, and such.

Because why?

Theories:

I’m somewhat smarter about accepting only fight choreography — combat — that will not twist me into knots I can’t untie.
Perhaps not so weirdly, I’m in better shape than I was 17 and nine years ago, thanks to better-dedicated exercise and an utterly boring, bland, sin-free (ish) lifestyle.
Lucky.

Then came Saturday night’s performance of “The Tragedy of Macbeth,” and Sunday morning, I woke up with a lower-back knot the size of a groan or 17. When I could finally arise, I stumbled around the house like an even older fart than I actually am.

So what changed? Kids. Kids have changed.

The four kids in this show — Asa, Hendrix, Aidan and Cara, who are all splendid at the dying-children parts — are growing, as they do, when you feed them. I’ve warned the parents, but they just keep regurgitating partially masticated comestibles into their upturned mouths. I guess. I’m not a parent, which at this point in the narrative probably seems like a plus.

There’s a show-biz admonition about never working with children or animals, one frequently attributed to W.C. Fields, and as is the too-frequent case, is utterly wrong. Far as anyone can tell, Fields never said such a thing, though the irascible character he played may have thought it. Closest any authoritative sourcing can tell, at a 1939 roast of Fields, Leo Rosten said “The only thing I can say about W. C. Fields … is this: Any man who hates dogs and babies can’t be all bad.”

Aside from being poorly attributed, it’s wrongheaded. What should be said: “Only work with kids or animals if your ego’s strong.”

After I used several of our cast’s kinder in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” folks came up for months after saying, “Hey, weren’t you in …. ?” As I bolstered shields to withstand an onslaught of accolades, they’d fire warning shots of “Those kids!”

And scene.

Similar action back during “Two Gentlemen of Verona,” which even a casual theater fan can reference, from Tom Stoppard’s “Shakespeare in Love” script, as the one about love and a bit with a dog. Exa’s Flip Flop co-starred in that one, and stole the stage even from Wes, usually a thief of the night himself.

So “Macbeth” is kinda dark — spoiler — and at least four kids die, though only offstage, though, spoiler again, sounds and simulated sights might unnerve just the same.

Had an evil notion late in the rehearsal process to NOT send the kids out for curtain call. Might have said something like “Past their bedtimes!,” only as with the way I’ve called Lady Macbeth “Lady Macdeath” several times, I might have let slip the witticisms of war.

But I’m not that cruel. Yet.

The flickering fairies in “Midsummer” were allowed to chose their names, aside from Cobweb, Peaseblossom, Moth, and Mustardseed in the script, hence our programs listing Fairy Mufasa, Fairy Mario, Fairy Honeysuckle, and Elsa the Frost Fairy.

There was once a Fairy Butterfly, but as Teddy was just rounding 3, work really did run past his bedtime, and he would get a little heated seeing “My friend Mommy,” playing Hermia, playing at scraps with Helena. Pint-sized towhead Teddy striding up to 5’11” Lillie could have been its own charming and only slightly terrifying show, especially that night he called her “Buckaroo.” The mouth on that kid.

Three of those weren’t available for “Macbeth,” due to other time constraints, but delightful Delaney came twice to support her dad Josh, and the rest of the DMs.

Not the direct messages: The Druid Mechanicals.

Short version: I named us “Rude Mechanicals” in our first year, right before we opened the first show, for the hard-working artisans in “MIdsummer” who strive to put on a show within the show, “Pyramus and Thisbe.” As it refers to lightly educated folks who work with digits and impulses more than brains, it seemed the right whimsical touch.

So much that practically every other community Shakespeare company in the world chose the same. This year, as an executive decision, in consultation with partners, I made it officially the Druid Mechanicals, to help us stand out.

At Saturday’s show, a bonus when Jerrell, a frequent RM/DM, popped in last minute, hot off the Vacation Bible School road, with Eli and Abigail. Didn’t know they were there until the “500 Miles” closer, but having such lovely folks around brightens things.

Now we get to the back.

There’s this game we play, the kids and me, where I swing them around like — What do folks swing? Dance partners? Bullwhips? Kettlebells? — like kettlebells that are rapidly growing, as kids are wont, when fed.

Usually they swarm in ones; twos at the most. I give each three leaps or lifts before (honestly) admitting I’m done in.

But Saturday, four grabbed on at once, and because it was in front of a crowd, I hefted all four, who have been eating lead shot like the roadrunner.

Back-pain mystery solved!

Worth it.

You can absolutely come see adorable kids at our last three performances of “Macbeth,” tonight (June 25) through Saturday (June 27) at Kentuck Queen City, but do please stay for the rest of the show.

Rain may persist through Thursday, but there’s a chance of outdoors Friday and Saturday. We’re hoping to light up Birnham Wood (aka Queen City Park), and cry haunting sounds into the night air.