Showing posts with label puppets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label puppets. Show all posts

Friday, November 6, 2020

Election Fatigue

Flashback: Little April, age 13. It’s a fall Friday night in Western PA and it’s been a late one. My brother Wendell’s football team is playing against some other team who’s name escapes me but you get the picture. It’s the fifth overtime, and one of the coaches keeps stalling the clock. The temperature’s dropping, the fans can see their breath and it’s starting to rain. The fans are apathetic, the cheerleaders do a half assed herky, and the players are running into each other for the sake of shoving someone. Finally one side cares less than the other, a final touch down is scored and the game ends. The victor is a blur, but we have all lost because these are hours of our lives we will never get back.

Cut to TV room. We eat Wendy’s as we watch the scores and late night TV, my dad switching the channel every time it gets too dirty. Wendell looks like he has just escaped from dramatic torture. My younger sister Skipper and my mom nod off. I scribble down some angst ridden death poetry that sounds as if Mystic Spiral wrote it.

The room is silent because there are things unspoken. Wendell is on special teams, which means while he will be on the starting lineup in a year or two he is not there yet. This means he will head out with the JV squad tomorrow bright and early. Instead of the stadium they will play on the muddy practice field and it will be even colder and even rainier. As a bonus, the rest of the family will be forced to come. Will it never end? The horror! The horror!

Fast forward several years. This is how I feel about the election. Instead of a high school football coach, it’s Trump yelling, screaming and trying to stall. Rather than a never ending Friday night under the lights it’s 2020, and specifically a very charged election season. I look at Yurick, my pet skeleton on my book shelf. We will look like him when the election results are finally revealed.

I voted for Biden. Really and truly I wanted Liz Warren. I didn’t get Liz Warren because sometimes you don’t get the pony you want to get. I spent a lot of the election season explaining this to fellow Democrats who swung for Sanders and/or Warren and were disappointed. When I wasn’t doing that I educated Trump supporters who couldn’t pass a basic civics test giving them free history lessons on social media. To quote Shakespeare, “Life…..is a tale, told by an idiot. The sound and the fury signifying nothing.”

I watch CNN for updates although at this point I feel as if they are just the pretty person teasing all of us. John King is at his magic wall, but I think he pulled a finger muscle because last night they had his JV replacement who’s name escapes me because no one cares about the JV at the magic board.

Dana Bash looks mad as hell at her ex, John King, everytime he is at the magic wall and thinks, “Damn that magic wall. He cared more about it than me and it ruined our marriage!”

Anderson Cooper thinks, “I am the son of Gloria Vanderbilt. I could have ridden my bike, lived off my fortune, and Rick Santorum would have been forced to be my butler.”

Van Jones thinks, “Well, I haven’t slept, and I am sitting next to this racist Rick Santorum. The first time he met me he thought I was Anderson Cooper’s butler.”

Gloria Borger thinks, “I picked this week to stop smoking, I hate Rick Santorum, and I wish I had a butler.”

And then there is Rick Santorum, the shart in the pants of my home district who’s greatest hits are talking about man on dog sex and sex with his mother in law. Prior to being a talking head on CNN, Rick was out of work politician and father of 8. The idea of being Anderson’s butler was pretty good until the network offered him a gig. They told him it was to bring balance, but really it was to do what he does best, say crazy hurtful things and wear high top shoes, a secret revealed when the camera gives a wide shot. Rick is as tired as the rest of the panel because now he is making sense. The world is in fact ending.

If Trump wins I get four more years of bad jokes with Donald J. Tramp. If Biden wins I get four years of new bad jokes with Joe Bidentime. I got a puppet. This girl is ready. My mental health and sanity, maybe not.

As a collective, we have had it. Twenty-twenty has been the high school football match up from hell with too many overtimes and time outs. At this point, I am done vote shaming. No one is on a winning streak. No matter which team you are on, I am reaching my hand out like the players did after the battle on the grid iron was complete. To you, I say, “Good game.”

Thursday, May 30, 2019

Donald J. Tramp on Russia

Today I asked the president whether not not he colluded with Russia. Just like all of our encounters, this one too got no where.

Did he collude with Russia?

I am just as confused as you are.


To book go to www.AprilBrucker.TV

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

News!

Hey guys, I have a new puppet in my collection. It's none other than the devil himself, Satan. He was a gift today from a friend. A wonderful friend who knew this fella needed a home. So now my puppet children are 20. At first I was reticent to take Satan in as he is the Prince of Darkness and direct from hell. Most folks who tango with the devil don't end up too good. However, I found him a pleasant enough feller. Check out the interview below.


Also, I have released merch as I know. And the merch item of the week is the zipped hoodie. Now that we are in the middle of winter, it's a nice way we can snuggle without you having to buy dinner or to be legally responsible for 20 puppet children. Plus you'll be warm. All and all, it's a great idea. In all fairness, it's great for everyone because my gear contains a body positive message. I tell my children no one in my family is shamed regardless of color, political status, or humoid, devil, or monster status. Therefore, no person should be shamed for their body size, shape, or whatever else. And that's the message we preach in this family.

To order click here


Thursday, November 2, 2017

Everyday is Halloween (Ministry)

I have been rocking Halloween kind of hard for the last month working in my haunted house in Sleepy Hollow. Halloween was kind of bittersweet in it's own strange way. It was like the end of a long, strange, magical, and mystical journey of growth.

Although it wasn't official, I was kind of sort of head puppeteer in my tent. Each night they designated me with the walkie. Each night I did wellness checks. Each night I handled the drama if it came my way. I was also head puppeteer in a way by virtue that I was the most experienced when it came to that world. I had a good crew. Yes, they were characters in their own way but I grew to love them. I was aptly nicknamed "Tent Mom" by one.

I ran a tight ship in my own way. I wasn't a tyrant, but because of my skills as a comedy club emcee I squashed any trouble makers who came into my tent. I kept them laughing or let them know bad behavior wasn't going to be tolerated. I also kept my people calm. One night, one young woman had her glasses break as well as her puppet. It was a bad night.

I asked her how she was holding up. She replied, "I feel as if it was something I did to make this happen."

I wanted to lose my damn mind. I wanted a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of diet coke. It's what one of my mom friends confesses gets her through kid troubles at times. But then I remembered something my beloved mentor once told me about leadership. A former army officer, he told me the best way to disagree was to address the problem and not to lose your shit. So I said, "I need you to maintain a positive attitude. Do not let this temporary setback undermine the good work you have been doing all season."

It worked. Help came. But I wanted that damn pack of cigarettes, diet coke and a possible gun to my head as a girl lost her cellphone minutes later. All the while the troops were losing their morale as it was cold and the night was long. It's kind of apt that my mentor was an army officer. Because actors are more or less a platoon in costumes, and in our case we were a platoon with puppets.

My soldiers were all good for the most part. Aside from puppets breaking and other technical difficulties they fought the good fight. We had a lot of good folks come through, and some not so hot at times but their energy never wavered. Even when they had issues with the management, which the management at times was far from perfect, I can still say I was proud of the work we did as a unit. Actually, they were nothing short of delightful and I am proud of each and every one of them.

I have long since admired soldiers. After all, my Pop Pop, a second lieutenant in the Navy, had a can do attitude. My mom was struggling in math and therefore this meant it was time to rattle off addition and subtraction facts in the car on the way to swim practice. My mom, who has always been petite, struggled with upper body strength as a child, and my grandfather remedied this by installing a chin up bar. She had to do 10 coming into her bedroom and 10 going out. Theatre itself is about can do. Perhaps it is no accident my cousins and I have found ourselves in the arts.

I was proud of how I sort of stepped up as a leader during my time on this job. Maybe this makes up for all the times I was a literal trainwreck in the past decade of my life. The run is over and I am grateful. My immune system is wearing down and I am exhausted.

I will miss the opportunity to be paid to learn a new form of puppetry. Yet I will not miss long nights in the cold. I will miss channeling my beloved Crypt Keeper as a character inspiration, but will not miss the long train rides and late nights. I will miss my puppeteers and fellow cast members, but am glad for the rest and to have my weekends back for the time being.

When I think of it, every day is Halloween for me. I dress up in costume for my job. I do funny routines all the time. I am someone else constantly who is secretly an extension of myself. Either way, I am glad for the experience Sleepy Hollow gave me. It made me fall in love with the theatre all over again, as if I wasn't in love with the greatest woman ever.........

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Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Interview with Nicola McEldowney: Puppet Master and Genius Behind Creative Block


  • Nicola McEldowney


  • 1. What inspired the creation of Creative Block? 

    I was thinking about creativity and the loss of it, and how that can change a life. The two main characters, Claire and Thibaut, are artists in two very different fields who deal with having their creative pursuits blocked. They don't face it the same way and they don't share the same resilience.

    The story started out as a much longer screenplay which was quite realistic. As a short, it evolved into something more surreal, involving balloons and music and magical realism, maybe even some silliness. But it's still the same story of creativity lost.

    The other direct inspiration was the first movement of Francis Poulenc's Piano Concerto, which doesn't appear in the final film, but some of his other pieces do.



  • 2. You address the subject of depression in Creative Block. What made you decide to tackle this issue in particular? 

    I've dealt with depression on and off since I was 18 and it's a huge creative killjoy, so one way to combat that is to create stuff about it. Paradoxical but true.

    Also, it turns out A LOT of people are glad when you depict depression in the arts. When I was doing my initial fundraising and publicity to make this film, I posted videos where I talked about having depression and how it informed the film, and I heard from quite a number of people who were touched and could relate. I was really pleased - not that they could relate, of course, but that I had struck a chord with them. 

Photo credit: Arnaud Galy

  • 3. Before Creative Block, you had a webseries called Callie and Izzy. Where can we see that and when will it be back?  

    Ah yes, and now for something completely different! Callie & Izzy is a very silly webseries about a girl with Puppetitis B, a rare disease that makes an evil puppet grow out of her arm. I love it very much and you can watch all 24 episodes at http://callieandizzy.weebly.com. They're very short. Go watch them. 

Callie and Izzy 

  • 4. What inspired you to follow the career path of puppeteer? 

    Watching the PBS shows "Storytime" and "Lamb Chop's Play-Along" as a kid, and going to France to study puppetry as an adult. In Paris I met my friend, the late Marion Chesnais, who was the daughter of Paris puppeteer Jacques Chesnais. Marion's puppet collection and her stories of touring the world in the 1940s with her parents' troupe made me want to be a puppeteer. 

  • 5. In addition to being a puppeteer, you are a writer and lyricist. Tell us about some of the musicals you have written. 

    I wrote a musical comedy called "Aisle Six" about a supermarket with a curse on it. It was produced at the San Diego Fringe Festival in 2013 - in fact I think it was the first musical they produced - and then later in the NYC Fringe, where it was produced in an Off-Broadway theatre, the Lynn Redgrave Theater.

    I also collaborated on another wacky musical, "Barber from Outer Space," with my friend, the singer and writer Rachel Gambiza.

  • 6. Where can we see Creative Block? 

    You can't, for awhile, I'm afraid!  Not easily, anyway. For the next year or so it will be in film festival competition, which means I can't show it publicly online. However, it will be appearing in festivals if all goes as planned. It's already been a 
  • semifinalist in the Los Angeles CineFest and a selection of the Mindfield Film Festival, also in LA. 

Photo credit Elizabeth R. Mealy

  • 7. What is your astrological sign? 

    Aries. According to my knowledge of astrology, which comes entirely from Cosmo, this means sparks will fly in the bedroom this month but I may have a catfight with a coworker.

  • 8. What do you eat for breakfast? 

    This is the truth: a multi grain bagel with one egg white and a slice of tomato. I've inferred from various reactions I get that this makes me a boring and vaguely disturbed person.  I'm not sure why but I've come to terms with it. It's cool. 

Monday, September 11, 2017

10 Things You Don't Know About Me

1. As a kid I became a ventriloquist, but was able to study Japanese wooden puppetry in college as well as Balinese shadow puppets. I am also proficient with hand and rod puppets. (Henson style puppetry).

2. When I was 9 I had a near death experience and survived a rip tide.

3. My best subject in 4th grade was history and I won the class award, and also won the award for most books read several years in a row. I kind of cheated, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire was my bedtime story.

4. Growing up my dad made sure we knew The Bible. While I am liberal now, I understand it incredibly and am annoyed when people put in words and events that aren't actually there. It makes me even more angry when they use it to take rights and freedoms away from others.

5. I was a gymnast as a kid and was even on a high level track before I got injured. I then tried to become a platform diver and while I wasn't afraid of heights I sucked at entering head first. My career ended before it began.

6. I swam summer club as a kid and my event was the 50 meter butterfly. When winter came I was a part of a local figure skating club. I was mediocre at both sports but showed a ton of spirit.

7. As a kid I had a German Shepherd Collie named Snapper, a goldfish named Goldie, and two Hermit crabs named Hermie and Pretty Nice.

8. I grew up without cable and with three TV channels and my parents said no TV on school nights.

9. I wasn't allowed to date or talk to boys in middle school let alone high school.

10. I was deathly afraid of the dark as a child. So much so that I slept with a night light on until I was about 11. Now I enjoy the dark quite a bit.




April Unwrapped

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Death Threats and Other Things

The Lady and President Tramp had it's New York debut at Don't Tell Mama this past Sunday. LEading up to the show, there had been some fireworks on twitter. A man claiming to be a delegate from Michigan threatened me, and then emailed the venue saying that if they didn't pull my show he would go to the press. This individual who called himself Jack Holmes said he would take me and my message down.

He didn't. The venue didn't pull the show.

However, Don't Tell Mama received several aggressive messages, some death threats, on their facebook page. I didn't know about this until I got to the theatre. To say things were crazy is a complete understatement.

The night of the show was actually successful. At first it didn't look like it was going to be because my tech was a mini disaster. However the show itself was marvelous. The audience LOVED IT! We are even talking about doing a run. Life is good. As a bonus I didn't get shot.

The venue administration was amazing in standing behind me this entire time. When others there were panicked, the owner said the show must go on. It's free expression. It's what America is about.

Now that being said, today I feel a little unimportant. No one is threatening me. I always knew I would be close to a bullet in some way for my outspokenness. This is not the first time. However, it is the first time I could picture the bullet. That in itself was a little scary.

I have a show tonight where I am Lady Gaga. I'm not being political. My mom is relieved.

Someone sent me a message that they saw my show and it wasnt good. This person was a pro-Trumper. Who knows if it's true. People are so tough behind the internet. Either way, it has been an entertaining past few weeks.

Donald J. Tramp and Hillary Clifton debate

Thursday, February 18, 2016

From Russia With Love (Matt Munro)


When I was barely old enough to walk and not quite old enough to start school, the former Soviet Union fell. The monolithic empire toppled down live on our television screens. It was a bitter sweet magical end for a people enslaved under what the Western World considered evil, Communism. Goliath had been stuck and now he lay death. The Cold War was over.

For years, the USSR, or Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, was the enemy of America. The Ruskies were the hammer and cycle loving red wearing beings. Although a shot was never fired, the Cold War was a vicious battle for world domination and supremacy, between two giants. It was a time the president supposedly had a thing known as the Bat Phone, a line that could go straight from the US to the Soviet Union.

It was a time of intense fear as the Rosenbergs had their jello molds and the traitorous trio sent to the gas chamber for treason. My parents practiced the duck and cover drills in school. Yes, you duck and cover because that is what will keep you safe in the event of a nuclear meltdown. Note, a metal desk has never kept anyone safe from being liquidated. So if they dropped the bomb, with this strategy, we would have all been shit outta luck.

The Soviet Union was akin to the girl you hated in school. Sure, she was pretty, smart, and you never said a bad word. Ya just didn’t like the bitch. Just as she was shady to you, you were shady back. And it’s tough to really say who was shady first. But it all went to a pinnacle when you saw her out with your buddy’s boyfriend and she was holding his hand like she owned him, tramp. She knew you saw her, and she made sure you knew. Either way, from day one, the shade was eternal on both sides.

Flag of the Former Soviet Union


In this struggle, the US was definitely the perky, more popular, prettier than the two and Russia just wanted to establish she saw that she gained weight……in her feet. You could tell by the antics of the notorious Cold War. The space race for instance. The Soviets sent a rocket. Then America sent a rocket with an animal. Take that. Well USSR had another trick up her sleeve. She sent a guy, kiss my ass America. Finally, America sent a mission to the moon. Oh Russia was screaming like a banshee on prom night.

We were merciless with our media as we took jabs at our enemies, letting Russia know we didn’t like her. Boris and Natasha were colorful yet simpleton foes, always duped by Rockie and Bullwinkle, or “Moose and Squirrel.”

James Bond, who was British secret service but worked for the CIA, went to Russia with Love. The Beetles even reached out there too. It was successful but awkward. It was a try though….

Supposedly, the CIA was as crazy as they say it was during that point. J. Edgar Hoover, the conservative, supposedly dressed in women’s clothing while working “undercover.” There are movies where they lampoon the former CIA head, and in one a comedian pretends to be a chair. Oh national security. Oh Cold War. You were quite a time.

The threat of War with Russia was real too. A contact of mine in Vegas, who was an ROTC officer in college and trained South Vietnamese soldiers during Vietnam, learned Russian in high school and college just in case. Mind you, this was during Bay of Pigs. The bungled mission of mercy was followed by an embargo.

In retrospect, we only focus on the wrong Castro did. However, we never discuss the racial segregation that was the rule in Cuba. We never discuss the supremacy the white Cuban landowners lorded over their Afro Cuban brethren. We never speak about how Castro, while an isolationist, created a society where equality and racial integration are the norm.

As I mentioned, my parents were coming of age during this time. There were many peace measures on behalf of the Soviet Union and US. One was a Khruschev trip to the United States. Khruschev made a trip to Mesta in Pittsburgh. It was where my dad’s father and his grandfather worked, as a master machinist and roller turner respectively. The reason for the trip was Pittsburgh was a center of industry. Mind you this was before the mills closed, and although I never met either they always got a kick out of telling this story. 

Khruschev was a colorful character. The Premier’s fiery antics raised eyebrows and made one chuckle. At a UN meeting, he took his shoe off and banged it on the table when he felt he wasn’t getting his point across. The Premier was wearing an expensive watch. At the time there was a man named Earl Stevens working in the mill. He was a half black, half Cherokee Korean War vet who had a drinking problem. Earl saw Khruschev walking through the mill and complimented the Premier on his watch. Khruschev took it off his wrist and gave it to Earl. The blue color guys who had only ever seen someone of Khruschev’s power on television ohhhed and awwwed.

Khruschev of course was making a statement. He had heard all the American talk about how the people of Russia were being oppressed and mistreated. He had heard all the talk about the evil of Communism. Yet he knew a man like Earl who worked and paid taxes was treated like a second class citizen. Khruschev wasn’t stupid. He knew about the Civil Right’s Movement. By giving him his watch, it was Ms. USSR letting Ms. America know she was reading her, and this was instant shade in her direct. This of course was perhaps inspired by Gary Powers and his U2 spy mission gone wrong as well. Oh history.

As I mentioned, Earl was a terrible drunk. While oppression proved rather lucrative in this case, booze can be expensive and this watch was nice. So he pawned it.

Khruschev banging his shoe at the UN

After these uneasy peace missions was a decade of more shade. When the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan, America boycotted the Olympics in Moscow. Four years later, the Soviet Union boycotted the Olympics in Los Angeles and produced The Friendship Games, a rival event. It was a war with no shots fired but jabs taken at each other on both ends. America and the USSR were the party guests who took cheap shots at each other but there was no physical violence. When both left the room someone else uttered, “Okay, moving right along….”

Some of this shade still exists on the part of the Russians today. Years ago, I was selected to do a land bridge because of some of my television exposure. Russians had questions for Americans, and Americans had questions for Russia. The Russians had heard stories of American children being adopted and abused, and they felt the United States was coming to Russia to steal the DNA of Russian children. This made me furious because I have cousins adopted from Russia, 4 to be exact, and all in good homes.

On top of that, the Russians were under the impression that we were a country where homosexuals were abducting children, because LGBTQ people are notoriously persecuted there. Not to mention they thought we dated online because we were always accusing each other of sexual harassment. Some of this was funny, and some of this was sad. This was all a part of the perpetual, no reason shade Russia and America threw at each other. At the same time, it was an education in how sheltered the people still were and how their media warped the perception of America. Mind you, while it is easy to throw stones at Russia, our American media perverts the truth, too.

Mind you, all this confusion and misconception came during the events that precipitated the Cold War. The trigger of course for the war where there was never a shot fired came as a result of Korea. Truman wanted to contain the spread of Communism, and because of the Domino Theory they feared that if one nation fell to Communism others would fall. Thus gave birth to The Marshall Plan.
Harry Truman, a well-intended fellow who had a lot to deal with, wanted to contain the spread of Communism so the Soviet Union couldn’t expand. He sent the US Troops to Korea. Known as Mr. Truman’s War, while he did contain he accidentally and unknowingly started The Cold War. In retrospect, given the feeling on both sides, perhaps this was the best solution with the least amount of lives lost. However, it created more bad feeling and more fear on both sides. It is safe to say Mr. Truman was in a lose/lose situation either way.

Either way, Russia had long since sought a national identity and found one, that of a Communist empire. Because of this, Russia, or Leningrad as it became, became a training center for Communist Revolutionary Trainees. One of the most legendary graduates was none other than Ho Chi Minh. First approaching Woodrow Wilson, Ho Chi Minh vocalized his want of a free Vietnam ruled by the Vietnamese people instead of the French and Chinese repeatedly victimizing his people. Woodrow Wilson dismissed the little Asian man, a move Americans would come to regret.

Hi Chi Minh, a true son of the revolution and hero to his people. Stop making him a monster, Western World. 


Ho became the champion of the peasants, their savior. For centuries, they had been at the mercy of landlords who oppressed them, demanding higher taxes, rent, and a share of their crops. These landlords feasted off the flesh and bones of their peasants, not caring that they and their families starved. So when Ho rose to power, he sought retribution on the demon landlords by starving them. When Vietnam fell to Communism, it was finally a free Vietnam devoid of Chinese and French influence.

While American history teachers do nothing short of making Ho Chi Minh akin to Satan, he was more or less a benevolent dictator who truly cared about the people he served. He was a true son of the Communist Revolution. He still has a postage stamp in his homeland, and you are penalized for trash talking the man.

All and all, because we were busy giving international dirty looks to the Soviet Union, we sent our boys to die in the jungle. And for what? Because we feared what might happen, and didn’t? Or we wanted to prevent the inevitable in a place where we had no business? Or we wanted to stick our nose in a place where Communism may have improved the lives of the peasants? And in the process, the generation that did not die was destroyed for a point that was never proven. Oh Russia and America, you have both behaved so badly here.

My father feels in retrospect Vietnam was a wise move. That if not contained the Soviet Union would raged out of control and a record number of countries would have fallen to Communism. It’s useless to debate about what did not happen, but history is never black or white, neither is war. Rather, it is a miasma of gray.

As an AP European History student in high school, I had an instructor by the name of Miss Garber. She was easily one of the brightest people I have ever come into contact with. A true genius and eternal, dedicated messenger of the record of events, I often wondered why she was wasting our time with us and not teaching in college. Unlike many history teachers in America, lazy because of time, she refused to give us a one dimensional, simplistic view of why the world was the way it was. For that, I will always be grateful.

During one class she posed the question, "Is Russian European or Asian?"

Since it’s land mass was so large, we came up confused for the most part. Some of the class said Europe. Others said Asia. I was in the group that said it was both. "The question is unanswered, and it is a question that people have been asking for centuries." Ms. Garber replied, half smiling.
Yes it was true, Russia was a country who, up to Communism had lacked a national identity and was desperately seeking one. As to whether it was European or Asian, it wasn’t even sure. When one thinks of it, because of Russia’s vast makeup, it’s more ethnically varied than the US could ever be. In the European part of Russia, they are all fair haired and fair skinned. As you go farther East, however, skin gets darker as do the eyes and hair. Finally when you reach the Asian part of the county, the people are very Asiatic looking.

Mind you, the people also live differently. In the European part are the cities and the universities. It is where the art and culture occur. When one gets to the Asian part, the people are more or less nomadic. They herd sheep and live in huts. They are of Turkic descent, having migrated in the Middle Ages. They are products of Mongul invasions and all that occurred there. And then there were the Korean migrants who came for work in the 19th century and just stayed.

To give you an idea, both Olga Korbut and Nellie Kim, both Soviet gymnastic stand outs and teammates at various points in time, are both Russian. And both women could not look more different.
Olga Korbut

Nellie Kim

Also, as I mentioned in Europe are where the big cities are. Once you leave the cities and hit the plains, you hit arid wasteland, and can drive for days at a time without seeing a soul. The winters are long and miserable and this is why Checkov was a hit. And then the winters are severe, and some places are near artic and uninhabitable such as Siberia. However, in other places, wheat can be grown rather successfully. As a matter of fact, Russia used to export wheat quite a bit.

Around the 15th century, the confused country began to take steps in forging a national identity. Peter the Great, destined to be Czar, decided to take a pilgrimage before ascending to the throne he was divinely destined to according to the principal of divine right of kings. He made his first trip ever outside of Russia and saw how the rest of the world lived. During his trip to Germany, he saw cuckoo clocks, and no such thing existed in Russia. He also saw boats and had never seen one let alone been on one during his time working with his hands in a shipyard. Growing fond of the work, he became an expert with knots.

Peter the Great also saw men were beginning to shave and also mixed socially with women. He also witnessed people eating with utensils. This was not even fathomable in Russia. Peter the Great took his discoveries home. Soon there were cuckoo clocks keeping time. Men and women mixed socially. Males shaved. And the steps began to found The Russian Navy. Thus he has gone down in history as the father of modern Russia.

Mind you, like all other countries in Europe, Russia wanted to emulate the Roman Empire. Thus the Russian ruler was known as The Czar, and the German ruler the Kaiser in reference to Julius Caesar. And both nations were grappling for a national identity at the very same time.

Russia’s quest for a national identity got a big break when the serfs were freed around the same time the slaves were freed in America. It was all irony and no planning. While not slaves in the technical sense, the serfs were part of the feudal system. They were forced to work for the Lord of the Manor and give him a portion of their crops, even if it meant they starved. Granted, they could technically leave if they wanted to, but could not afford to do so.

Around this time, Marx and Engle began to write. Their first words were, “Workers of the world unite.” Enter VI Lenin.  

Although Communism has gone down as destructive and proven unworkable, let’s talk about how the world became this mess in the first place, especially Russia. Yes, as the nobles feasted on the work of the middle class and peasants. These were people sick and tired of being sick and tired. Sick and tired of the "divine right." Sick and tired of not having the class mobility and sick and tired of working hard and still being poor. Actually, this is almost, ironically, what America is becoming now.
Sure, Lenin and Stalin may have been power hungry and evil. But perhaps the real bad guys are the rest of the world for ignoring the plight of these people as long as they did.

Around the time their national identity was coming to fruition, Russia was a strange bedfellow with the rest of Europe. While it was far away and sometimes distant, the Czar's grandmother, much like the Kaiser's, was Queen Victoria. However, there was also racial tension between Russia and Germany. For centuries, the Germanic people had long believed they were superior to the Slavs, and that the Slavs were inferior in every way. Hitler even said as much in Mein Kampf. However, this was nothing new. If anything, the Germanic feeling of racial superiority helped pull the Princip trigger that killed Archduke Ferdinand.

Yes, it can be said that it is a bad habit of the German people.

The Russians returned the favor. Because the Czarina was German by birth, they believed she was a traitor by default. They believed she was disloyal, a spy when the war broke out. They also believed she felt a comfortable superiority. While it has never been confirmed, one can ascertain based on European politics at the time they  were probably closer to correct than not.

For the first part of WWI, Russia fought as an Ally to UK and France. However, Germany wanted Russia out of the picture. Lenin, who was exiled, was put on a train by German officials and given a ticket back to Russia. A professional revolutionary and effective speaker, he would do what they wanted, rid Germany of Russia. Hence the Revolution began.
VI Lenin, in some Revolutionary action shot


It was a whole complicated mess, and no blog would do it justice, only a book. Russia began to invade neighboring countries and absorbed them. While it was cruel in some ways, these citizens had come to Russia for economic opportunities to begin with. Also, with the Russian system in place, people had academic and athletic opportunities they did not have previously. A gifted person's athletic and academic achievements could get their family a house from the state, something they may have never had.  Granted, it also meant being taken as a child, which was emotionally and mentally scarring for these proteges. Plus they had universal healthcare. So in many ways better, in many ways worse.

Any progress was at the expense of these states losing their individuality and national identity. Russian, a language hated by the former Republics in freedom, was spoken in schools. Religion outlawed as both a measure of national identity and security. Or as Karl Marx said, "Religion is the opium of the people." Now the identity was complete. Everyone was Russian.

Just as Russia was that shady acting girl, the United States was the high school cheerleader that loved to stir the pot in the girl's locker room by throwing shade of our own. During WWI, as Russia had exited in order to contend with the Communist Revolution, American troops marched into the USSR. Thus they were captured. Woodrow Wilson, rather than bargain, refused to do so because it meant recognizing the Soviet government. Thus we left 5000 of our troops to parish, all just to thumb democracy and capitalism into the nose of our Communist foe.

Around that time, Oliver Wendell Holmes, a well-known Supreme Court Justice, ruled that it was constitutional to sterilize  a mentally disabled young woman. In his decision he wrote, "One generation of imbeciles is enough." (Germany would later cite this, word for word). Also, conversely, there were studies about a family called the Kallikak’s in South Jersey, supporting eugenics.

Russia, long before Germany got the idea, began a long campaign of Jewish persecution because the Jews did not match the Russian ethnic picture. While Germany hated Jews, their Jews lived on the outskirts of town but worked and generally did not clash with their neighbors, they were just alienated. Russia passed anti-Jewish laws long before Germany. Russian Jews were not allowed to own land let alone go to school. When he got a chance, Stalin set up concentration camps of his own to exterminate them as well as anyone else who opposed his iron fist rule. However, because they were our Allies in WWII we swept this under the rug. Hitler was the big Jew killer. Meanwhile, Stalin killed more Jews and even more of his own people.

Mind you, just as Germany and Russia were desperate to find a national identity, so was America. After all, we had only just wizened the tiara of World Super Power.  Like three annoying college students with snot noses and big mouths, and so our journey's began.

While WWI ended, the Germans and Russians hated each other and with a passion. Many thought this would foolishly be the war to end all wars, but it only caused more conflict. When Europe was reworked, Czechoslovakia was created. It was a territory composed of Germanic and Slavic peoples. The Germans detested their forced countrymen, and likewise. During a census, a region of the country was classified as Slavic and their was a riot were several people were killed.

When Hitler rose to power, he wanted Germany to have it's chance to shine. He wanted to merge all the Germanic people's of Europe into one. However, it must be known that while the German's had a superiority complex, they also had a chip on their shoulder. During the days of the Ostrogoths and Visigoths, they had fought the Roman Legion many a time and had never been defeated. They fought until the death, refusing to retreat then, and continued this practice until WWII. (Because their descendants settled in the Alps of Northern Italy, this is in part why Italy was an Axis Power). Despite the fact the Romans feared these people who even had their women fight, they were never able to achieve the level of greatness let alone organization that Rome did. The Kaiser had promised and failed. Now Hitler swore to make this dream come true, domination for the Teutonic peoples.

Hitler: Evil Nazi Maniac looking like the product of a bad one night stand between Chef Boyardee and The Pillsbury Dough Boy


Stalin had the same dream for Russia. Long since the dawn of time, they had been laughed at and gawked at by Western Statesman. They too wanted their shot at what was the closest they could get to a Roman Empire. Stalin sought to make Russia a great military power, and sought to destroy Germany or anyone else who got in his way. Like Hitler, he invaded countries like Poland simply because he felt like it. Like Hitler, he wanted to expand the living space for Slavic people everywhere. And this dark haired, bushy eye brow possessing poetry loving former safe cracker from the Baltic State of Georgia (a place where he is still regarded as a hero), sought to nationalize all Slavs by making Russia their language. Just like Princep before him, he was tired of the Germanic people oppressing the Slavs. He and his people too had a chip on their shoulder. They too wanted not only vocal nationalistic pride, but also world domination.

Stalin waving, happy after the weekly starving of the peasants


While both are evil and were mad men that slowly dragged their people to the pits of hell, it can be safe to say they were rancid dishes of tuna noodle casserole cooking in the oven of Europe for several centuries.

During WWII, Russia remained impossible to invade because of the land mass and unbearable weather. Due to the fact winter begins early there, just like Napoloen before him, Hitler invaded in the winter and stupidly so. It was a disaster, because the German's froze to death. Winter coats, women's winter coats, had to be expressed dropped, and therefore the Nazi's looked pretty glamorous as they got frost bite. Mind you, nothing is gayer than the goosestep or those uniforms. For a bunch of latent homophobes, this really sealed the deal.

 Russia were allies, but uneasy bedfellows. Churchill especially did not trust Stalin and was vocal about this. Meanwhile, Rommel, aka The Desert Fox, had been especially critical of Hitler. Rommel felt Hitler was a mad man who would drag Germany into the ground. While German troops did not traditionally retreat, Rommel was a career soldier and felt they were losing men unnecessarily. Not to mention he treated the men he captured fairly. A career soldier, he opposed the mistreatment of Jews. He only took the job because as I mentioned, he was a career soldier. While his son joined because all German boys did of age, Rommel was also not impressed with the Hitler Youth movement and said so whenever possible.

Rommell proposed assassinating Hitler, making peace with UK and America, and marching to Russia to invade. His plan was discovered and he was forced to drink poison. Rommel was onto something. Poor guy.

The war ended and Churchill's suspicion grew and he relayed it to Roosevelt, thus the seeds of an unspoken, cease fire conflict began.

While Russia and America never formally came to blows, there has been some Post-Vietnam discourse about POWs that were deserted not only by Nixon, but by the American government not just because it was c but they were impossible to find. There is talk of these POWs having been transported to the former Soviet Union to possibly serve out their prison sentence. While some of this conjecture is regarded as wild conspiracy, there might be some truth to this. The USSR hated us as much as we hated them, and they were looking to screw us as much as we were looking to screw them. Why not?

Either way, this was academic and media painted picture was the only reference I had to the former Soviet Union until I was a teenager. Mind you, there was the labeling of the 15 former Republics in Mrs. Pontist’s class before that, but then as I mentioned I have 4 cousins adopted from Russia. My aunt and uncle, unable to have children of their own, went to Moscow in the dead of winter to retrieve what would be 2 boys and 2 girls. Spectacular human beings, one is a champion fencer, another a science whiz with dreams of becoming a surgeon, another is captain of her silks squad, and the littlest one is a talented gymnast. Either way, these kids who began their journey in Russia have added greatly to the fabric of my family.

As a young comedian, I also did many spots in Sheepshead Bay and Coney Island. I met a lot of people of Russian descent. Blunt, outspoken, honesty, funny, and hardworking, they also proved loyal. Many like myself were not just living the American dream, but trying to live the comedy dream as their family members shook their heads.

These past few months, I have been receiving a lot of international press, and a significant amount from Russia. Friends of mine who speak Russian fluently have proudly translated and we have laughed out loud. Even if nothing comes of all this international press, at least I can say that I got to experience the world in a way many don’t get to, and got to learn a lot about the world I inhabit that I did not know.
The whole family in a Russian paper


Additionally, Laurel of Laurel’s sew shop who made my costume, got featured as well. As did Rik Sansone’s child of SPAZ Comics. Essentially, we all got a free trip to Russia.

A friend told me that puppets are popular in Russia. There is a popular show where a bunny puppet reads bedtime stories to children. Just like American parents, they too want to make sure their children are loved and cared for. Maybe by getting my press I did my part to bridge the gap. Maybe I will even get to be so lucky to perform their someday. My opening line will be, “Ivan, you are terrible…” Just kidding.


Either way, Russia, this history loving, puppet carrying dork who can’t keep a man wants to send you her love. 

May Wilson and I holding 2nd edition of SPAZ. Costume by Laurel of Laurel's Sew Shop. 



Wednesday, January 7, 2015

That Woman

Recently an old wound was reopened. They say when someone does this, it isn’t always intentional. Rather, that person is a messenger telling you to work on a part of yourself that is not yet healed. When the bandage is ripped off, the wound is reopened. The pain returns almost as if it were yesterday, oozing out of your every pour. Then you realize maybe you were not okay after all.

Monday night I had a giant reminder of my past. Yes, I am a domestic violence and stalking survivor. I have spoken openly in interviews and written about it. Heck, I even talk about it onstage in my comedy. Performance gave me an outlet to live through one of the darkest, most horrific times of my life. I maintain if it weren’t for comedy I would be dead. If my ex didn’t kill me, the pain that went with the situation would have. It’s amazing how the ability to laugh keeps people from losing their damn minds sometimes. Laughter isn’t just the best medicine sometimes, it’s the freaking miracle cure.

I had a friend read me the riot act. Mike’s like a brother. It’s not that he did it to be mean. I needed my ass handed to me. Since the relationship that left me invested in a separate mailing address, I have been very slow to trust men. I had a guy several years ago and it ended badly. Very badly. He still hates me, and I have earned his hate. His wife also has my face on a dartboard. I am not being dramatic, she does. I was a terrible partner. I know that much, and I admit it not to puff myself up but because I was. It’s the damn truth. Yeah this guy had his issues but when you’re the one with your former lover stalking you, there is no room to judge. Just saying.

I never set out to be “that woman”, but I was. Then again, no girl ever dreams of growing up and having Prince Charming turn completely psychotic when the relationship ends. No girl plays Barbies and sees Ken trying to kill himself when Barbie has had enough. It’s not the way it’s supposed to go. Cinderella and Barbie don’t have the real life ending where the dolls are damaged goods. If only Disney and Mattel lived in reality.

“It’s me or the puppets.” My ex said. I still remember the conversation like it was yesterday. He was already controlling my wardrobe and telling me who I could and couldn’t speak to. I thought he was kidding. My children were my blood, my life. I wanted to leave, but remembered when I had done so he broke a Vodka bottle, tried to dive on it, and missed. Then he took the remaining pieces of the broken glass and slit his wrists. I was terrified so I stayed.

For months I was dying inside. My friends saw the lifeblood drain out of me and begged me to get rid of him. Yet I continued to sell him like a used car. A shell of my former self, I turned into a zombie who either simply went through the motions, or when I could feel I was angry all the time. Then it was him or my family. The irony of the whole situation is that he wanted me to put away my puppets so I could become his puppet.

I was drinking alone every night, and that’s already a bad sign. To top it off I had stopped eating and lost a ton of weight. He had hit me before. I had seen female relatives walk this path and I knew how it was going to end. It was always a slow and painful demise where the woman got burned and the man walked away unscathed. More than anything, there was a part of me, my craft, my ventriloquism, my children, missing. I knew if I stayed in the relationship he was going to kill me or I was going to kill myself.

I ended it.

Needless to say it was only the beginning of another nightmare. My ex wouldn’t accept it was over. He called me terrorizing me. Sometimes he would send his friends to terrorize me. He would wander my neighborhood looking for me. Then there were times he would casually tell me he was going to kidnap me because if he couldn’t want me, no one else could have me. In the next breath he mentioned he wanted me dead. If that wasn’t getting to me, he doctored up photos of me online and wrote nasty things on them. Sometimes, he would draw photos of a girl who looked like me and she would be gutted or beheaded. The world has changed, but in those days a restraining order was much harder to get and cyberbullying was still a new crime.

I felt alone, but there were people who came to my aid. The ex was banned from several websites, and my neighbors agreed to watch out for him. Through that I was encouraged by those around me to get onstage and talk about the pain, the fear. More than anything, I was told by those closest to me that I had to reach for my puppets again.

Being a ventriloquist and woman is not easy, especially in the chauvinistic, closed minded comedy community. I heard the sexist jibes and the snide remarks that I was a prop act. However, I also had a lot of people support me as well. I knew in order to get where I needed to go my children had to become my life and they did. At times it seems we fortify ourselves against the world but hey, it’s not the worst thing.

My dream before meeting my ex was to become a professional ventriloquist. With work and effort, that has been happening for me. I have done two good shows this week. One was where I was one of over 200 performers that helped shatter a Guinness World Record. The other was for a bunch of children as part of Little Laughs at The Jalopy Theatre in Brooklyn. On both shows, I shared the stage with amazing performers who were not only dedicated to their craft but also good at it. Although the adventure left me slightly drained because things kept coming like gangbusters, I wouldn’t trade any second of it.

I have my act together onstage and off more than I ever have in my life. This past year, I have begun doing theatres and even filmed a DVD. I also have made a career enough onscreen to earn my union card, something else that felt like writing in the clouds before. Fans will write me letters and sometimes can spot me in public and ask, “Are you that puppet girl?”

Things have changed for the better. And while I was “that woman”, a title I didn’t want, I am actually quite glad it happened. My life was going down a very bad road, and once I got out of the relationship it made me realize I had some decisions to make. I was 21 and could still change course. Maybe low self-worth and desperation had taught me a tough lesson, but I could still get back on track. I did by getting a goal. Also, because of my experience, I have had other people who have been “that woman” reach out to me. It lets them know they aren’t alone, but makes me remember I am not either. Of course, I now have a spider sense and can spot “that man” from a million miles away. I can also pick out a bully from a crowd, and have a special way of not tolerating that toxic individual. And if that bully chooses to intimidate others, I come to their defense as well.

“You’re no funny and will never amount to anything as a ventriloquist.” My ex once told me. Although my life has changed dramatically and I feel so far removed from those people and that time, the words still ring fresh every once in a while when I find myself stepping onstage to a performance where I headline, a theatre gig, or as I ready myself for a TV taping. Except now those words don’t sting, instead they motivate me whenever the doubt starts to creep in. Yes, that voice that speaks like my ex that tells me I have no talent, will go no where, and don’t deserve anything good to happen to me.

“I saw you on TV and you are very funny. Don’t let anyone make you give up your puppet children.” Another voice says. It’s the voice of a fan. They say never to believe your fans all the time, but you need to listen sometimes. While the ex’s hateful words motivate me, my fans are the ones in the race that continue to cheer me on. They let me know I need to keep running, keep fighting, keep my puppet children by my side.

Over time, I have learned to forgive my ex. For as tough as it was, he was a sick person. He had a hellacious childhood that I would not wish on my worst enemy. How could I expect him to give me a healthy relationship when he had no idea what one was in the first place? Plus he never made a secret of who he was. I chose to stay. In the end, I was just as guilty as he was. I wasn’t a victim but a willing volunteer. I heard through the grapevine he is getting help and his life is coming together. In my heart I hope this is true and only wish him the best.

However, when the wound is open it still feels like yesterday I was wearing running shoes in case my ex would show up so I could make a quick escape. It still feels like I just spoke to my mother, and she requested his info so she could have it in case I disappeared. I am always my harshest critic with my career. Things never happen fast enough for me. Perhaps sometimes it’s good the wound is accidentally re-opened to show me that I need to stop being such a brat, and that things could have gone much worse. It’s a stick it note from the universe that I lucked out, and that I am doing better than I think.

It’s also a sign that while in some ways I have evolved, in others I haven’t. I still don’t have a guy. I can blame the career and puppets all day long, but it is because I am scared to death of being “that woman” again. There have been women who are “that woman” many times over and that terrifies me. I am petrified of him taking my puppets. It hasn’t happened but it could.

There are times when I want to jump inside the radio and bust the heads of rappers and male singers sprouting misogyny until the gold teeth jump out of their stupid heads. It doesn’t make me feel bad because they have millions of dollars and can get them replaced. Then I realize it’s the same thing as getting mad at my male comedian friends. Those are just words. Nothing more. Some of the most ruthless dudes onstage have been my biggest supporters and greatest friends off. It’s not a personal affront.


Still, maybe it’s because while I have forgiven my ex, I haven’t forgiven myself. I was 21 and made a mistake. I didn’t know everything, how could I? Yeah, I needed to walk this path to get where I was. Sure, it totally sucked. That being said, maybe it’s time to try to find that handsome prince who likes puppets. He’s out there. Maybe it’s time to close the wound for good. 

Saturday, September 27, 2014

30 Things I Learned in 30 Years

Yeah I am 30. Yes, the big 3-0. Ought oh. Oh no. Here she goes. Yes, NYC's very own puppet girl is 30!!!

Now here are 30 things I have learned in 30 years. You ready?.....

1. When in a depression, it is amazing how a shower and fresh clothes can make things better.

2. The cooler and sexier you try to be, the most desperate you come across. #truefact

3. Getting fame and recognition for your gifts is a wonderful thing, but don't get hung up on it. There is no substitute for the work.

4. Negative people are like quicksand. They will always try to drag you on down.

5. When in doubt, close the blinds.

6. Some people get lucky for whatever reason. And sometimes they continue to get lucky. But if you work hard, you will pass them up, because luck doesn't last forever.

7. If a guy has a 1-800 number, lose his number fast.

8. If a guy is right out of prison he will be well behaved. Not just because this is his first chance with a lady, but he also needs a place to stay.

9. Always tell someone you love them when you do. And if you fight with someone you love make up with them. It's beyond words when it's too late.

10. People who continually belittle others and cattily gossip about what successful people achieve will never be successful.

11. Ice cream cures the blues

12. Most men believe they are 10's in bed, but most men are mostly 5's.

13. Be yourself. You are the most unique gift the universe has to offer.

14. The only way through the darkness is to keep going.

15. If opportunity does not knock, build your own door.

16. Friends are more important than lovers. They will be there when the loves screw up. And trust me, your lovers will.

17. People will tell you that you have no future or imagination. You must know you have a future and imagination. If you know this, these people will continually eat your dust.

18. Always learn. Always sharpen your tools. You never know what might come in handy.

19. Wear the captain's jacket even if it scares you.

20. If you are betrayed by a friend, write it off as a loss. Know for the one friend lost, ten better friends are out there.

21. Sure, it is a man's world and the paradigm oppresses women. But we all have a strike or two against us and we need to work with it the best we can.

22. Revenge is sweet, but kharma is much sweeter and more creative than you could ever be.

23. If you have a goal, go for it. Don't ask questions and don't think it through too much or you won't do it.

24. Despite what others say, don't settle.

25. When in stress, remember one day what you are stressing about won't matter.

26. You don't need a relationship. Anyone can be married.

27. Alcohol, drugs, food, and copious amounts of cigarettes and caffeine solve nothing.

28. Sometimes the best thing to do is reach out to a friend and talk when you are feeling stressed.

29. If you do your 20s right, you will look back and say, "Jesus, 22 was fun but never again...."

30. Tell your hair dresser all your secrets. They don't work for the CIA and will keep them hidden.


Check me out
www.aprilbrucker.com

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Up To Now.....

When I was 21, I was exiting out of a horrific relationship. It was nearly this time eight years ago. I still remember getting the phone call. His voice was frightening, frantic. My ex begged me to take him back. I had left the relationship. Everything was wrong with us as a couple. We were physically violent towards each other, and the arrangement was mutually abusive.

The ex made me give up the one thing I loved most, my puppets. I didn't know what else to do. I was 21, and maybe I was getting too carried away with them. I still did comedy, but lacked that thing that made me myself. Not to mention I stayed hidden from friends and all else during what was supposed to be one of the most vital times in my life. I made my world very small, because I didnt want the people who were close and cared about me to know what was really going on. These days, as I let details eek, it usually upsets them quite a bit knowing that perhaps this could have and should have been stopped.

I remember my ex begging me to take him back. There was a part of me that wanted to go. I didn't know what life on the outside without him would be like. Would anyone ever love me again? Maybe we could work it out this time. I was eating, as opposed to before when I wasn't. We both swore we wouldn't drink together, a deadly combo. We talked. He told me he was sleeping with an ex of his who was working as a hair dresser abusing heroin. I knew this girl, she had tried to worm her way into our lives and get me out of the picture. Yeah, the trash pit. Looking back, her self-worth was worse than mine. She knew he still wanted to be with me, yet she was still sticking around. These days I pity her.

"I couldn't go back to something that ugly." My ex explained.

Weeks later, ironically, she sent me a letter telling me she wanted to shoot me. If only she had known about this conversation. I think the bullet might have gone a different direction.

I told my ex maybe he could move to New York, because his sponging had brought him down to North Carolina. We could work it out, play house and live with his Pops in Brooklyn. That is when he said the words that still stick with me. "If I see you I will kidnap you. That way no one else can have you and I won't ever lose you again."

That is when I knew I could never go back and had to keep going. I did. I made it my business to bust my ass as a comedian, and brought my puppets out of the trunk. As I cleaned my life up, I found opportunities presenting themselves because of my puppetry skills. When I was 23, I performed in a show produced by a former reality television star. I not only did all the puppets, but also did the voices. The following year I connected to a puppetry guild. Then the year after that, I produced a piece, somewhat of a disaster, with all puppets. Oh and then I made some puppet short films as well. And then I was a part of a weekly puppet show for children in Long Island City after that.

From there, I began performing ventriloquism once again in comedy clubs. I mixed it in with my standup. These days I make sure both are solid. Some is to give the audience a different, all around experience. Some of it is also to show I can do a set if a club doesn't book an act like mine. And if the club doesn't book an act like mine, it's their loss.

I also started doing shows for kids, something I had dreamed of doing since I was a teenager. I performed at several puppet festivals, and even several high end corporate functions. It was always a nice feeling knowing I made children happy. It also was cute whenever they either thought my puppets were real, or cracked the code by screaming, "YOU'RE MAKING THEM TALK!!"

This past summer, I was blessed to do a project with the Harvard Film Lab called The Breakup. I did the puppet work for Mortimer. It was an all day shoot where I got wet because it was filmed in the bath tub. This week, I got news our film moved to the second round of Project Greenlight, yes the Ben Affleck and Matt Damon brain child. We went from a pool of a few thousand films to a mere 200. While there is still more to be revealed, we made it past peer review which is a big deal.

I also fulfilled another dream, releasing a DVD. My DVD is now streaming online as of this week. We are working out some kinks, my webmaster and I, but I am grateful to have him on my side. It is called Broke and Semi-Famous. This contains the mixture of standup and ventriloquism I spoke about. These days I also crack jokes about the ex who used me as a punching bag, nearly made me give up the thing I love most, isolated me from my family, and wanted me dead. By laughing I win.

In a week or two, I will release a music video with you guessed it......puppets.

There is a lot of uncertainty in my world at the moment. I don't know what is next. There have been emails about possible opportunities my way. Or they have let me know I am in the running. No yeses yet. Not to mention things might or might not or Dear God lets not go there....

My stomach goes tight. This has been the past several years of my life. My puppet children and myself. My trunk that weighs as much as I do. What if these things don't happen? Maybe I will get old and be a failure.

Then I remember I am not a failure. I escaped hell with a mere brush burn, and kept going. I had a goal that kept me from going back. There are those that are not so lucky. My goals have not only made me a better woman, but they have kept me alive. Had I gone back, I have a feeling I would be dead. I do have a different mailing address so the man can never find me. The rewards I reap from my hard work, dedication, an willingness to show up are simply cherries on top of the proverbial cake. Not to mention I do what I love despite the adversity the world sometimes throws my way. I am not a failure. Rather, I am a champion.

Yeah, puppets have been good to me. I will still continue to be their mother. This fall I turn 30.....eeek. It is bad news for some women in show business. However, I write and work with puppets. It doesn't matter how old I am. I can do those things until the day I die. Add in that ironically, I look a lot better than I do when I was 21. I eat well and regularly. Don't drink. And would never dream of touching a speed based diet supplement. Coffee is my only vice. I exercise regularly, and am ageless. I look better and am wiser, perfect combo.

This dark spot in my life is far behind me, but I keep it close to my heart reminding myself things could have been drastically different. Those days I had real problems. These days I have luxury problems. May Wilson lost her shoe. Sweetie Pie Kincaid needs an upgrade. Snap Dragon, we need to work on that routine.....

Off I go.

Love
April
Check out my DVD Broke and Semi-Famous
www.aprilbrucker.com