When I was in my senior year of high school, I took a class at Topeka Civic Theater. I had just gotten involved for the first time the summer prior (but that is a long story for another day, believe me). The class was taught by Teri Walton, a person I did not know at the time, but have come to love dearly as a member of my own family. It was a musical theater class, in which the students were each to pick a selection of numbers that we wanted to perform, and work at becoming more skilled and comfortable singing on stage and in front of a crowd. Having just started singing a year prior, I thought it would be a good experience for me.
I had also recently become acquainted with the musical "RENT" by Jonathan Larson. I had heard the soundtrack, but didn't really know the story. (I didn't even realize for the longest time that Angel was a man. Preeeeetty dumb...) I knew how much the music touched me, though, and I wanted to experience that. So, with one exception I don't even remember now, I sang two songs from the show. "Another Day" and the duet (I did it as a solo) "What You Own". It was a pretty weak performance by my standards, but I still felt so much joy at getting to sing the songs, I didn't care.
Fast forward 9 years. In the time since, I spent about 5-6 of those years doing tremendous numbers of shows, devoting every waking moment of my life to TCT. Then, in 2006, I became a parent to my wonderful daughter Phoebe (now 3 1/2 years old). As Phoebe grew, and we started to become more and more aware of her disability, the hiatus I took from theater slowly became a retirement instead. I had not done a show since my wife, Sarah, was pregnant with Phoebe, and before this year, had only even auditioned for shows twice.
Then, I heard that Washburn and Helen Hocker had gotten the rights to do RENT. I literally could not believe it. I had to contact everyone I could think of to verify that this was true. I was now faced with a decision. Not only would auditioning mean I would be sticking Sarah alone with Phoebe's care and that of my 6 year old step-daughter, Lily. Now, we had another child in the mix, our son Sam (born last September). Despite my love for the show, and missing the stage so badly, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It took Sarah literally forcing me out the door to get me to go to auditions.
I was more nervous than I have ever been in an audition. Just that December was the first time I had sung in front of people in years, and my confidence has never been my strong suit. I did it though, and must have done a good job, because I got my dream part, Roger. I couldn't believe it. Literally couldn't believe it. When I called Washburn to check the cast list, I literally said to whoever told me I got the part; "No shit?" I still feel bad that she had to hear that, but the surprise/shock was too much for me.
I'm not going to bore you with details of the whole rehearsal process, but I will say this: Despite how surreal it was, and the fact that even by closing night it hadn't fully sunk in what I was doing, I have never been in a cast that felt like family so fast. I only knew 4 people before we started, and now I love each and every one of them so much, it physically hurts to be away from them.
I don't even know how to put it into words. I have never been so absorbed by a character. I mean sure, I joked around backstage like I do in every show, but there were parts I found myself sitting in the wings, talking to myself as if I were actually Roger. I have never done the method-acting thing before, and now I flat out couldn't help it, wasn't even doing it consciously. And I could tell I wasn't alone, either. When I said horrible things to Mark, it really was to Mark, not Dan. When I wanted to punch Benny's lights out, I literally was having to restrain myself from physical violence, despite the fact that Nathan is someone I consider a good friend. And despite only knowing Lindsey a few short months, when Mimi died in my arms, it honestly took every bit of strength I had not to completely break down. You spend enough time in the mindset of "I love this person more than life itself" and I suppose that reaction is to be expected, but that didn't make saying goodbye to her (onstage or off) any easier. I had these moments with every single person on stage. We really were living out these people's lives for them, and I am so honored to have been a part of it. I truly believe that this was the performance of a lifetime for me, and not only do I doubt anything could ever top it, I don't think I WANT anything to.
I don't know when I'll get to do a show again. Despite this being the only experience that, for me, could rival becoming a husband and father in terms of sheer joy, the time away from my family was so hard for so many reasons. There were times when this commitment almost completely drove my wife and I apart. There was so much guilt in being away from my new son, and from my daughter who (at the risk of being morbid and maudlin) may not live very long, that I don't know if I COULD do it again. I will say this. Seeing Teri after our final performance, tear stricken and trembling with what she tried to mumble out was pride and joy at seeing me finally live my dream was worth doing it all on its own. I am so honored to have been able to share this with all the wonderful friends and family that came to see me, to see us, and who laughed and cried right along with us.
So, it honestly could be years before I do another show. Only time will tell, right? But I am not thinking about my future in theater at this point. I am thinking about the family I made over the past months, because that is what they are; Family. One and all. So, this is for each and every member of my new family.
So, it honestly could be years before I do another show. Only time will tell, right? But I am not thinking about my future in theater at this point. I am thinking about the family I made over the past months, because that is what they are; Family. One and all. So, this is for each and every member of my new family.
I love you. I miss you, but I will see you soon. And remember...
"No Day But Today."
