Every year improvisers come from across the country to my city. Sometimes I get to be their castmate in a Dust Up. Sometimes I get to be their host or tour guide or chauffeur. Sometimes I get to buy them a drink. Sometimes I get a drink bought for me. But so many times (time after time after time again) I get to become friends with them. There are times when we are together I think, wouldn’t it be great if we all lived in one place. But I think that’s not quite right. Part of the joy is the brevity of our time together. My friend Elicia, just before the festival started likened SFIT to Christmas—which as it happened I also had done (on the same day, in fact!) without knowledge of her post. If we were all in one place or SFIT happened everyday perhaps we would become tired of it, or perhaps more likely, we would take it for granted. As it stands I try to cherish each moment because it could be a year (or longer, who knows) before I see any one of these people again. And moreover, I have these friends, these fellow improvisers, dotted across the landscape. Friends in Chicago and Vancouver, friends Austin and NYC, friends in Philadelphia, LA, and San Francisco, friends in Honolulu and Paris. And how lucky is that? Each of whom invite me to visit. Each of whom I fully intend to visit, to have these same experiences where they live.
Plus, if SFIT happened everyday I would probably die of alcohol poisoning.