Chris Davis

Wake up at 7:15am because my cat Sarge is crying at my door. I put him away for a little more sleep, and ten minutes later my cat Cervantes comes, also crying at my door. It works and I feed them.

I make some coffee. I’ve been getting into hand-pouring coffee so it takes a little longer but it tastes so good. After I do that, I go to my computer and writing and/or revising. I’m working on a book that I started as my thesis when I graduated from the MFA Fiction Writing Program at Temple (this is how I met the Year of the Day creator too! Molly!!). I’ve so far managed to keep this habit up although I graduated in May. So every morning I stare at my words, fix, write, for at least a few hours.

Today at noon I work a hospital job for CHOP. In this one I’m a simulated patient. My son has fallen and lacerated his spleen, and is taken to the E.R. I’m the father waiting in the E.R. room for an update. Doctors have to deliver me bad news and I respond as normal as a person can be. The thing is, my character has no idea that the fall wasserious, so I respond with complete shock and confusion.

Doctors then have to tell me he has a life-threatening injury. I react accordingly, shocked, angry, etc. and they have to NURSE me down (it’s an acronym) and I calm down and the encounter can continue. The job is tricky, you never know what someone is going to say. And it’s hard to predict every possible outcome. This particular session I did really well, making obstacles when necessary, and the doctors were a bit flummoxed (not my goal, but shows that I followed the ‘system.’) My trainer was happy, and so I therefore too am happy. Another weird day in the life of a simulated patient. Some of my oddest memories were pretending to have Coronavirus during the pandemic while Doctors practiced delivering bad news to me on Zoom.

Today is Thursday, so tonight is my show One-Man Nutcracker at 7pm at the Louis Bluver Theatre at the Drake. Before the show I have to stop at Red Flowers at 15th and Reed to pick up some fresh flowers. At the end of every show, the audience throws them. It started out as a joke years ago, and then became an integral part of the show. The roses last about a week, and can endure 3-5 shows throwing them. At the end, my stage manager Randi picks them up and we place them back into the vase, like new again.

I pick up the flowers and chat with Mario for a bit. He’s the owner of Red Flowers and we’ve been friends for years now. I met him three years ago when I was producing the show and we decided to partner together. He had just started his business, and I was hoping to help him out as best as I could from my little show. It’s blossomed into a real friendship now, and I stop by frequently and buy flowers for many different occasions.

I then take the number 4 bus down Broad Street to my venue. At my venue they are holding auditions for Shakespeare in Clark Park, so I have to wait in the lobby til they are done. Once it hits 5pm I get into the space and start to stretch, set up my props, and get settled in the space.

Today is a special day because we have a band playing pre-show. The band is a bunch of my friends that wanted to play some music, so we decided to do it pre-show. They’re called GingerBand. Here’s a description of the group: GingerBand is a yearly pop-up delivering holiday joy with our own special take on festive classics. Enjoy the sultry voice of Kate Black-Regan, the jazz stylings of Brian Decker on guitar, Dorie Byrne on accordion, Sheila McNally rocking the bass, and Matt Jastremski on the Christmas Cajon. And always feel free to sing along!

Unfortunately I couldn’t listen this time around too much, because I was in the dressing room getting ready for my show. But it sounded good from what I could hear. And it was cool to imagine the audience coming into live music. People definitely seemed to enjoy it.

While in my dressing room, stretching and doing ballet warm-ups, my director MK calls me and says they are in Philadelphia! What! This is a total surprise. So they say they are coming to the show and I’m super happy. We meet in the dressing room, talk a little, and then it’s show time so I say goodbye.

There’s those moments right before you go on stage that are always interesting. Like you are caught between two spaces. One, reality, the space in the dressing room, and two, the world of fantasy that is created once you go through that door. When doing this show in particular, I really disappear into it, and when it’s all over, throw myself back through the dressing room door elated, and so so, tired.

Thursday turns out to be a great show. This entire run this year has been great, but you never know. With theatre you really have to earn it every time you go out there. One of the things I love about it. You can’t settle or get lazy. You really have to bring ‘it’ to each show.

The show is One-Man Nutcracker and I have been doing it for five years now. It takes all of my energy to do it, and I have to be cognizant of things like what I eat beforehand, and to stretch, and to maintain myself throughout the day. Be focused. I also do a lot of ballet in the show (somewhat OK at it now), so I can’t eat anything really heavy. Small sandwiches, protein bars, and lots of water.

The show ends, I meet some of the audience in the lobby and autograph Christmas ornaments of myself (new this year…yes I’ve made ornaments of myself!) and greet people. The vibe is good. People are happy. I’m happy.

MK, my director, needs a place to stay tonight, so they come with me and we take the 17 bus back to my house in South Philadelphia. I’ve lived in this house now for almost ten years. It’s just another random old row home with awnings like so many in South Philadelphia. But in ten years I feel like I’ve had five lifetimes living there. A lot of change, some good, some hard, etc. but the house remains the same. It’s my constant.

We settle in and talk for a bit, and finally before midnight, we both go to bed. I have a spare room, and MK’s cat already lives with me (another story), so it’s a reunion of sorts.

Fall asleep.

And it’s another beautiful day in Philadelphia.

Chris Davis (he/him) (Actor/Writer) is a writer and performer residing in Philadelphia, PA. His solo shows have toured throughout the United States and Europe. Recent shows One-Man Nutcracker made its international debut in Germany this year at the Thespis Festival in Kiel, and The 40-Year-Old Ballerino which had a sold-out run in the Philadelphia Fringe festival. He is a 2024 graduate of the Temple MFA Creative Writing Program in Fiction and is currently working on a novel. Other solo shows: The Presented (★★★★ - The List), The Last Emperor of Mexico, One-Man Apocalypse Now (★★★★★ - “superbly crafted” - Underdog Reviews), Juan-Winfield, Bortle 8 (“…a strikingly original writer and performer.” - The Scotsman), Drunk Lion (“A potent success” ★★★★★ - Wee Review), and Violence of the Lambs (“…absurd comedy at its very best." ★★★★★ – The Student Newspaper). He performed in the Edinburgh Fringe for six years. www.realchrisdavis.com. IG: 1mannutcracker.