Poopy Shakespeare Week

This dare is turning out to be a lot more difficult than I had originally anticipated.  After the Bar Mitzvah, I thought, how hard can this be, simply speak a little Shakespeare?

Lesson #1  Sometimes, it’s much harder to do an easy thing that involves constant exertion than a hard thing that only calls for a single burst of effort.

Let me start with the first failure.  On Saturday, Day 2 of the Shakespearean week, the family was out on the town and everything was going swimmingly when Dan and I started an argument over a parking job – standard couple’s stuff, small but infuriating.  I got so frustrated in the heat of the moment that I couldn’t hold on to Shakespeare and slipped back into common man English.  When Dan immediately proceeded to point out my failings, it felt like a taunt and made the situation worse.  It wasn’t until two hours later that Shakespeare recovered.  That set a bad precedent.

Later that same day, when our five-year-old was acting up, I again lost patience and slipped back into the common tongue.  Aside from admitting weakness, I notice this is making me sound like a bitch wife and mean mother, I swear, ’tis not so.

Lesson #2  It’s hard to keep a light attitude and put yourself out there when you are suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.  I somehow thought of the movie Life is Beautiful and was re-inspired by how much fortitude it must have taken Roberto’s character to remain resolutely buoyant in the face of misfortune.

Anyways, on with the report.  That entire weekend, we were staying at my father-in-law’s house because we were at the tail end of a three-month home renovation.  The in-laws were away on a trip.  They were due back Sunday evening.  That afternoon, our five-year-old used an ungodly amount of toilet paper during a bathroom session which clogged the toilet.  If there is something worse than clogging your toilet it’s clogging someone else’s toilet.  Dan and I alternatingly tried our fixes.  You know.  How you wait, and wait, and wait for the water to go down, then you flush again.  Hoping and praying that it would go down this time.  But when the water comes up and up, whirling dangerously close to the edge, you kick yourself for not having waited longer.

All in all, it was a red alert situation. Being the family phone-caller and negotiator, I felt it my responsibility to take control of the situation.  I browsed plumber reviews on Yelp and prepared to make some phone calls.  How to speak though, therein lies the rub.

Consideration number 1, Dan was frantically emphasizing that this is a special situation and I should just take care of it asap.  Consideration number 2, I was suffering from class-guilt.  The tone with which I attempt Shakespeare can easily be mistaken as arrogance — going around thee this and thou that; especially over the phone, with no body language and facial expressions to mitigate it.  The last thing I wanted to do was to be a pompous ass to someone who unclogs poop for a living.  Consideration number 3, I was afraid that the plumber would think it was a prank call and hang up on me.

The in-laws were due back soon and I did not want to repay their kindness with an over abundant toilet.  I called the plumber in, gasp, everyday English.  Yes, guilty as charged.

The evening didn’t end there.  Around 6pm, the in-laws came back, tired and hungry from their trip.  When I reluctantly unleashed the Shakespeare on them, they were in no mood to humor me.  I must say that so far I had imagined this dare to be more entertaining than it turned out to be.  Aside from making a couple of people laugh, the overwhelming response was that of unease.  People did not have a context and didn’t know exactly how to react.  So they felt uncomfortable and avoided eye contact — for when they gaze upon me, they see a mad woman, a lunatic, a village fool.  In order for this to be any fun to them, they would not only have to hold an open attitude when surprised, they would also have to be in a similarly light spirit.  And that is just too much to ask.

That evening with the in-laws, I find myself speaking much less than I normally would and half-assing it when I did speak, squeezing in a shall here and a thou there.  To say that there was no flourish would be an understatement.

Lesson #3  It’s hard to keep a light attitude and put yourself out there when you are met with unease and annoyance.  (Shit! this must be what bad comics go through on a daily basis.  Now I have a taste of what awaits if I don’t step it up in December…)

This morning, I woke up and decided — no more pussyfooting around, I’m going to do this and do this right.  I hereby reset my 7-day Shakespeare challenge, starting today as Day One.  From this day forth, I shall redouble my efforts and make Shakespeare proud!

P.S. The saga of the toilet dost have a happy ending.  Upon hearing how many pence shalt be given to the gentleman plumber as recompense, Dan produced a plunger from the basement and attacked the porcelain beast with enormous vigor and furious force.  Three minutes hence, victory was his.  All is well that ends well.

Links to related posts:

• Part 1: Speak in Shakespearean English — Day 1
• Part 2: this post
• Part 3: Shakespeare Week Wrapeth Up