The Great Grinder Challenge
I have been called out.
While I was at the Fergus Grand yesterday I somehow got into a conversation with one of the theatre's regulars about Grinder Productions and my plans for the summer. This person (who shall remain nameless, but for the purposes of this blog we'll call her "The Cat Whisperer") wanted to ascertain how I was going to be able to pay for my shows this summer, as much of the expenses involved will have to be paid well in advance of opening night. I informed her of the three goals: 100 season subscriptions by opening night, a group for each matinee, 20 patrons for every performance.
"Fair enough," she said. "Care to make a wager on that?"
Well I'm not usually a gambling man, but The Cat Whisperer is not usually a gambling woman, so I asked her what she had in mind.
"You get 100 season subscriptions by opening night of the summer season, or you look for a part-time alternative source of income."
Leave it to The Cat Whisperer to go straight for the jugular. This is a make-or-break proposition. To reach this goal would put Grinder on a solid enough financial footing to get through the summer, even if the other two goals fell short, and put us well on the way to a successful fall season as well. To fail would be the beginning of the end, as any other, more lucrative source of income would make Grinder Productions an expensive hobby, one that would be harder and harder to justify as time went on, and eventually I would have to abandon the whole enterprise as so much youthful foolishness.
So I thought long and hard about it, then I reached out, shook her hand, and accepted the challenge. I'm going to put a couple of tickers on the blog here so you can see how things are progressing. To be honest, I don't know if I will be successful or not. I guess that's the nature of a real challenge, to take on something where the stakes are high and outcome far from certain. But I think it's high time I took a leap of faith.
The challenge is on.
While I was at the Fergus Grand yesterday I somehow got into a conversation with one of the theatre's regulars about Grinder Productions and my plans for the summer. This person (who shall remain nameless, but for the purposes of this blog we'll call her "The Cat Whisperer") wanted to ascertain how I was going to be able to pay for my shows this summer, as much of the expenses involved will have to be paid well in advance of opening night. I informed her of the three goals: 100 season subscriptions by opening night, a group for each matinee, 20 patrons for every performance.
"Fair enough," she said. "Care to make a wager on that?"
Well I'm not usually a gambling man, but The Cat Whisperer is not usually a gambling woman, so I asked her what she had in mind.
"You get 100 season subscriptions by opening night of the summer season, or you look for a part-time alternative source of income."
Leave it to The Cat Whisperer to go straight for the jugular. This is a make-or-break proposition. To reach this goal would put Grinder on a solid enough financial footing to get through the summer, even if the other two goals fell short, and put us well on the way to a successful fall season as well. To fail would be the beginning of the end, as any other, more lucrative source of income would make Grinder Productions an expensive hobby, one that would be harder and harder to justify as time went on, and eventually I would have to abandon the whole enterprise as so much youthful foolishness.
So I thought long and hard about it, then I reached out, shook her hand, and accepted the challenge. I'm going to put a couple of tickers on the blog here so you can see how things are progressing. To be honest, I don't know if I will be successful or not. I guess that's the nature of a real challenge, to take on something where the stakes are high and outcome far from certain. But I think it's high time I took a leap of faith.
The challenge is on.
Comments
How much does one of your season passes cost?
Wiz
I am sure you will meet the challenge head on.
Just be nice to the Cat Whisperer.