roar of the greasepaint, smell of the crowd

The Time Warp is upon me, and I don't mean "...a step to the right."

Flashback to 1978 (use the 'shrooms, it'll help). I begin my fledgling stage career as a chorus member in a high school production of "Once Upon a Mattress." Fun, but not really what I had in mind as an actor - where are the accolades?

1979 - senior year: I work as the understudy to the devil in "Damn Yankees." Got one time on stage when he had the flu. Ah, that's more like it...applause, yes, thank you, thank you.

1982 - back to the chorus in "Cinderella." What - no handsome prince?

1983 - Yes!! I am cast as the bad guy, the ne'r-do-well, the evil Harry Beaton in "Briggadoon." And I die in the second act! Spewing stage blood from my mouth, I am carried to the stage and laid out for the village to see. Delicious! Give me more!

Sadly, that theater went under and I became an out of work actor. Until...

1992 - Yes! I've still got it! Cast once again as a villianous character, the Russian constable in "Fiddler on the Roof." I get to smoke a pipe, carry burning torches, and kick the Jews out of Anatevka! I audition for more roles, but time, family, and not wanting to travel 30 miles both ways just for a chorus position keep me off stage. Until...

2009 - At the urging of my family and friends, I audition for a play I have never heard of and no nothing about. "It will be good for you" they say. "You need some creative outlet" I'm told. "Get the hell out of the house and go already" the Wife says.

I spend a few weeks reading the script a home - "The Foreigner" by Larry Shue. Funny stuff - part British farce, part comedy of errors. Small cast, several juicy roles for men. I settle on trying out for one of the leads, Froggy, a British military demolitions expert. After watching "My Fair Lady" several times, I head out, confident in my lines and my accent (The rine in Spine fawls minely awn the pline).

2 hours of cold readings from the script. Working with people I don't know. Read this. Go here. Thank you, next. Woof - and you thought teachers got butterflies on the first day of school!

Then, last night, the phone rings. "We were really impressed with your stage energy and your ability to hold a cockney accent for so long. We'd like to offer you the role, if you're interested."

No, I'm not interested - the whoopin' and hollerin' you hear is just my way of saying no. Of F'ing course I'm interested!

So now, instead of reading the latest James Bond novel or hitting the theaters for the debacle that is G.I. Joe, I've got my nose to a scriptbook, sitting on the lawn, sipping lemonade. Rehearsals start in two weeks - just about the time I've got to go back to school and remember how to teach English. And I couldn't be happier.