Category Archives: Other Life Choices

A man. No plan. Panama.


Posted by Patrick Okens


“Tell me if you want me to drive more slowly.”
 
From my non-driver’s seat I’ve already pumped imaginary brakes a few times as the pickup glides from Tocumen Airport onto the Carretera Interamericana for the two-hour drive to Valle de Anton.
 
I’m sweating, mostly from the damp heat that cloaks you as soon as you exit the COPA airlines Boeing. Through the windshield, clear-skied sun-glare I see yellow grasses, shanty towns, produce stands, small, brown-skinned people waiting at bus stops, trash-strewn roadsides, motorcycle policias.
 
“I’ve seen every known perversion there is.”
 
This wasn’t my driver’s conversation icebreaker, but we got there quickly enough. Salt-and-pepper beard and ponytail, tranquilo, German. We speak English though, since he rejected his country three decades ago for life here. We cross the Puente Centenario at the Pedro Miguel locks, me craning my neck to glimpse the canal far below. There are politicians on billboards everywhere, a national election next week. Talk turns to the political, the personal, levels of corruption, levels of consciousness.
 
“People tell me I get my facts wrong….I say ‘close enough’”
 
We head inland from the Pacific coast. It is greener, hillier. We stop at a lookout and peer down on the foliage. I remark on the bird calls emitting from the surroundings. Ponytail takes a drag of his cigarette;
 
“That’s the croak of the golden frog, actually. And in fact it’s a toad. You know what else? They paid over $100,000 for this lookout. I’m sure it only cost about $10k. They pocketed the rest.”
 
We get back in the Kia Sportage and he engages the 4×4 to make it up the impossibly steep, winding, final mile to the house built on the inside slope of the defunct volcanic crater. My home for the next three months.


My Blind Date On Stage


Posted by Patrick Okens

We are introduced in the courtyard. From her blonde locks and blue eyes, past her red dress, down to her fishnets and heels, Mimi is absurdly beautiful. She is also sporting a clown nose and a boldly caricatured French accent. Mimi is sizing me up too. When I see her again, in the theatre, we lock eyes and I sense I’m her man. Together, onstage, and unrehearsed, we will have a romantic encounter over 90 minutes. In front of an audience.19143059_10155482249718760_6982489486736430354_o

Since its inception, there have been over 600 performances of “Blind Date”, which plays at the Tarragon Theatre from May 30 to June 25. Poor Mimi has been stood up, and each night she chooses an audience member as her date. I allow myself to be a potential “prospect” and embrace the tension and butterflies this brings. Then Mimi calls my name and I emerge from the dark anonymity of the back row into the hot spotlight, front and centre.

Tess Degenstein, who plays Mimi, tells me I have one job – “Be yourself”. I’ve got this! One over-thinking, recently-broken-up, considerate-and-inclusive Patrick coming right up! That means connecting with Mimi, the sexily enthusiastic persona; partnering with Tess, the engaging and talented performer; and pleasing the audience (which includes my sister, who convinced me to go with her).

In the bistro, over wine, Mimi and I learn about our respective day and families and talk about finding connection in a big city. Soft jazz pipes in and I ask her to dance. We end up at her place, on the living room love seat. My date is….sending unambiguous signals. It’s fun that she’s forward and the next move is up to me.

And so I call “time out”. (It’s within the Blind Date rules, but I’m sure I was booed by some audience members). I’ve only ever kissed someone when I meant it, and alluring though Mimi is, a stage-makeout session isn’t for me. But supporting, anticipating and responding to actor Tess is fun and real, and this comes out during a sobering values-check mid-performance over which we bond. Backstage, during a set change, Tess is a great cheerleader – it’s good for a stage improv newbie to get that boost! Back in character, there’s a lot more time looking directly in Mimi/Tess’s eyes. The lines start to blur.

Then there is the audience, whose (hopefully amused) reactions I can hear but cannot really see. How to make it fun for them? How to be physically and emotionally intimate and vulnerable in public while maintaining your boundaries and those of your stage partner? In the last scene, as my clothes come off (mostly off-stage) Mimi and I share intense and tender moments in the bedroom, it feels way more natural than I ever imagined it could.

Post-performance, the banter with Tess, the Tarragon crew, my sister and audience members is an easy rush of freedom, openness, gratitude, recognition and relief. I will return, as a proud alumnus, to see the next guy initiated to Blind Date improv.