Okay, time to wrap up this "Theatre Days" stuff. I've been away from the blog for a bit....I'll try to get back in the saddle here. Uuuupp.....okay, here we go.
The theatre year began with early (January) performances of "The Miracle Worker," and I served as stage manager for those - first and only time I did that. Any of you involved in theatre know that stage manager is the most important crew position; you're the Boss. And responsible for any and every thing. Scary, but totally involving. The funny thing is that other than being pretty wowed by the cast of this one, I don't remember much. The shows must have come off okay. Whew.
The spring of 1983 was a little different for me. The biggest reason was that I got a job at a radio station as an announcer. I forget the specifics of why I went this route, but it must have been because......I needed money!! And so, my theatre availability could have been roughly the same but working weekends during the day was a killer. Saturdays I went into the station at 9 am, and Sundays I went in at (gasp) 4:45 am. Oftentimes, I went in with no sleep. But all that's another story.
Therefore, I laid out of productions in the spring of 1983. "Threepenny Opera" (which I am a fan of) and a show called "Talley's Folly" (?) were produced, but I stayed out of them. I probably acted in a few directing projects (memories are fuzzy), but I kept out of the evening ones. Around this time, I was working in the Department as part of the work-study program, in order to help make rent, etc. So a lot of this semester was a theatre wash for me.
But, in the summer, it was time for PASS once again. And nothing kept me away from that. Now that I think about it, I wonder if I took a couple of those weekends off of work; I might have for PASS. Anyway, the first show up was called "Luv," a ridiculous comedy written by Murray Schisgal in the 60s. It was directed by Jack Strawn, and being the first show of PASS, was rehearsed in late May while school was out - a la "Star Spangled Girl" the year before. The show only had three characters, Harry, who I played, Milt, and Ellen. Harry begins the play suicidal but runs into Milt right before jumping from a bridge. Harry's loneliness gives Milt the idea to pawn his wife Ellen off on Harry (Milt has an affair going on), saving everyone in the process. And it goes from there. I played this one up like almost nothing else, and one memory really stands out. For a dress rehearsal, some students were present. And one of the snootier ones told me after the run-through "I don't think you're really getting to the emotional depth of the character." I took that as a fantastic compliment. This show was far from serious. Rafael Torres played Milt, and my girlfriend at the time, Rise Atkins, played Ellen. And having Jack direct in his usual "hey, Lance, run with it!" way just led to supreme fun.
On to the second show of PASS, and we get "Born Yesterday." Now, this one might seem more familiar, due to the movie remake from the 90s with Melanie Griffith, but I'd never even seen the original film version from 1950. And this was one where I had a lot of trouble. Jim Hawley directed it, and his focus on technical issues meant I didn't have a lot of guidance in the role, which was, well, the handsome romantic male co-lead. Something I wasn't even used to attempting to play. And I still feel like I dropped the ball on this one. Or maybe it's just that I wasn't made to play this kind of role. Nevertheless, I had fun doing it. Kimberly Lewis played the lead, with Chuck Pokorny playing her gruff, uncouth husband. Fun show, I just think I was miscast. So there.
The final two shows of PASS that year I was not in, and other than working on the sound tapes, I'm not sure I had any crew responsibilities.
Later that summer, I had the opportunity to direct something for the Tower Theater in Weslaco. The Tower Theater was a comfortable theater housed inside an old water tower, basically a large cylinder. The Tower's manager was my girlfriend's mother, and so I managed to grab a director position, putting on Neil Simon's "Barefoot in the Park." Rise played Corrie, I played Paul, and most of the rest of the cast were pulled from the Pan Am theatre folks. For my first (and only, as it turned out) somewhat major production, it turned out okay. My mom even made a trip from the Dallas area to see it. Got my picture on the front page of the newspaper as well. Not bad.
Moving to the fall, we began with the old chestnut "You Can't Take It With You." This one was directed by Doug Cummins, and I had the role of Mr. DePinna, who is kind of a cypher in the script. (I had not seen the movie version at this point.) One type of role I thought I was pretty good at playing is the clueless go-along-with-it guy, and this part was certainly that. Mr. DePinna, like a lot of people in this wacky household, just showed up one day and stayed. In this case, he helps the father of the house build fireworks in the basement. And he smokes a pipe all the time, which was new for me. I taped flints to the bottoms of my shoes, so I'd have something to light matches on if the pipe went out. There's one scene where DePinna emerges on stage in a toga, carrying an artist's easel and paints - I forget some of the context. But it's a bit of a surprise, I suppose. One performance, when I strutted onstage with the toga and equipment, the crowd stopped the show dead with applause and laughter. Self-serving, I know, but memories like this are the ones that stick. I've never forgotten it.
On to the final show of 1983, and Dr. Monta was directing "An Evening of Albee," comprising "Zoo Story" and "The American Dream," two one-act plays that are often performed together. I played Grandma in "The American Dream." I did. Old lady wig, dress, everything. I remember one of the first things Dr. Monta had to teach me was how to not sit in that dress with my legs open. I'm sure she had a funny biting quip about it, but I don't remember a specific one. For every one of these shows, I'm trying to think of one memory that stands out, and unfortunately, the one for this isn't a great one. At some point, there were three of us onstage, Veronica Gilchrist as Mommy, Valente Rodriguez as Daddy, and me. Ronnie Gilchrist was a lovely woman to work with, but she had problems remembering lines. And she went completely "up" at this moment. And, I couldn't remember what came next, in an effort to cover her. I could tell Valente didn't, either. We stayed silent onstage for what felt like a minute, although it was probably only 10 or 15 seconds. I don't really remember how we got out of it, but we somehow did. You'd think after all the shows I did at Pan Am in those days, there might have been more of these, but I can't think of any others.
1983's nomination for the Irene Ryan scholastic award I mentioned in the 1982 post went to yours truly for this performance. The sad thing is: I didn't go to the competition. And I can't remember why, other than I might've just been burned out, or needed money, or something. I really do not remember. There's even a small part of my brain saying "you did go!" but I don't think that's accurate.
I put 1983 and 1984 together, as by the spring of 1984, I was ready to do something else, and I largely stayed out of the theatre world. The second spring show of 1984 was "Annie Get Your Gun," directed by Dr. Monta, and I got the role of Pawnee Bill, Buffalo Bill's rival. It was fun, but believe it or not, I sort of took the role under duress. Jeez, that sounds snotty as hell. But I did get to sing "There's No Business Like Show Business" on a stage, so I'll always have that.
But ultimately, I just was not into it. I could feel Dr. Monta's disappointment in my overall direction, but I couldn't help it. It was going to be a different path for me in life after all.
So, I graduated in May, 1984. I stayed in the Valley a year, working radio and saving some money. Then it was off to California in February, 1985, to reconnect with my dad and start a new life.\
These theatre days were the spark to what I ended up doing in music and life in general. As cheesy as it sounds, I own them a lot of my life.
