Tony Evans

Friends and teammates, this is one of the hardest WhatsApp messages I’ve ever had to write — I’m leaving the group.

Ever since the start of the Climate Wars, I’ve been fighting my own secret war over whether to continue my career as a long form improviser. Just as you’ve all been battling to secure food, shelter and clean water, I’ve been battling in my heart over whether to continue performing with the Grape Robbers.

Even though I’m leaving, I want you to know that you are the kindest and funniest people I’ve ever met.

I always laugh when I think about our hilarious “European Plumbers” scene from the time we opened for Fart Cops. The radiation storms had been intense that week and so I had a total brain fog on stage. I blanked on the word for plunger and accidentally called it a bathroom stick. I was so embarrassed! But instead of making fun of me or editing the scene, you all supported me, and we performed an amazing group scene where none of us knew the correct words for anything. It paid off big time. The audience lost their minds when Dan C. called the toilet “zee poop closet.”

And we’ve had some good times off the stage, too. Remember the time when we were scavenging after rehearsal and found that pack of fresh batteries in the old Walgreens on Roosevelt? We were able to run the space heater for the whole night, and we stayed up way too late feeling nice and toasty, and swapping stories about our lives from before the Collapse, I still can’t believe Dan A. used to be a tax accountant. I would never trust a wildcard like him with my W2s! Just kidding, Dan A., I’m sure that your accounting was as meticulous as your object work on stage.

For one night it was like we were back in the old world, just a group of twenty- and thirty-somethings, swapping stories and cracking jokes. We were more than eight random guys who met at an improv class. We were a family.

I won’t forget the hard times when we leaned on each other for support. It wasn’t easy scavenging for supplies in the ruins of Schaumberg. It wasn’t easy hunting rodents for food in the abandoned CTA tunnels. And it wasn’t easy playing late-night shows to near-empty theaters across the city. Surviving in the wastelands has been a challenge. both in terms of finding shelter and resources, and in terms of attracting audiences to our shows.

Yes, I went there. Let’s name the elephant in the room; or I guess, not in the room. Our last few shows have been very poorly attended. While it’s hard not to take it personally, we have to accept that the world has changed. Survivors of the Climate Wars are not that interested in seeing live theater. This doesn’t reflect on us or the quality of our work. It just means that the typical Neo-Chicagoan is not going to spend a night watching Harolds, no matter how hilarious they may be. They would rather spend their Friday night hunting for scrap metal, or going to see short-form shows instead.

Since this is goodbye I want to focus on all the positives. You have been there for me at my lowest moments, all the times when I was tongue tied on stage and unsure of what to say next. I wish I had an ounce of fresh drinking water for every time someone on the team bailed me out of a struggling scene with a well-timed sweep edit or a hilarious walk-on as a waiter. If I had all that water I would be as rich and powerful as one of the Lake Barons!

I hope that you will all continue on without me. Even though sometimes it feels like society and improv have been reduced to a brutal war of all-against-all, I believe that longform improvisation is more important than ever. Your ability to love and support each other is a model for how we can someday rebuild society. Plus, who doesn’t love a hilarious accent?

As for the future, it’s time that I move on to the next great adventure of my life. I known that the risks are high, but I have to keep following my artistic instincts. I want you all to be the first to know I’m finally going to pursue my dream of performing stand up comedy. Wish me luck!

Dan G. has left the chat.

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