For some, summer begins with Memorial Day and the chance to wear those white shoes that have been calling your name since March. For others, it begins when children come back into the house, their laughter filling the room when you ask them to clean things. For others, a barbeque is the inaugural summer kickoff meal, and thus the season begins.
For me, summer begins when I don red, white and blue spandex and start delivering roundhouse kicks to the face.
Sure, this may not be the typical tire-swing-over-a-river, Country Time Lemonade type of vision most have, but screw it. Rivers are filthy and no one trusts the ropes on a tire swing unless they're drunk. And everyone is drunk in those commercials. Make no mistake. Summer begins with The League of Awesome.
Last summer, Sara Sevigny and I took on a project with a deadline of July 1. We had to finish our first draft of The League of Awesome in order for it to be considered for the next Factory season. We wrote furiously, ignoring sleep and day job responsibilities to get it done. One of us is now unemployed, but we'll just go ahead and say that isn't related. Obviously, we finished. And 97,000 drafts later, The League of Awesome is now in rehearsal, scheduled to open on July 16, 2010. There is a phenomenal cast and crew attached, and we're watching this thing come to life. The only eloquent thought I have on that is: Holy Shit.
I have wanted to be a superhero for so long -- I used to dream I could fly. It was a top secret thing, and people would freak the fuck out in my dream when I showed them. My voicemail has declared me a part-time superhero for the last six or so years. I have wanted to write with Sara for a damn long time, and write a show for the Factory ever since I saw Alive. (Yeah, I just dated myself. Let's say I saw it as an infant, ok?) So now, all of this comes together nicely in one summer package wrapped with a kickass bow of justice.
Summer and superheroes go nicely together. I mean, seriously, those thumbtack-sized costumes aren't built for winter warfare. Mine fits in a Ziplock bag and I'll be living on gum, caffeine and pure will.
As we head into summer, we see those kids on vacation out there, doing what we did at their age: playing outside and pretending to be stronger than we actually are. Whether sprinting at lightning speeds for the ice cream truck, aiming higher on the swings, cartwheeling and spinning 'til you puke, or balancing on someone's feet on your stomach to play "Superman", we've all dreamt of being a hero. And now, thanks to shirking the responsibility of a job that pays me and locking myself in a dark theater away from sunshine, my loved ones and reality, I get to be one.
This really is going to be the best summer ever. It's the summer of Awesome, and I'm happy as hell to be a part of it.