Member-only story
Something that struck me at 14 stayed with me my whole life.
As a kid, I did community theatre in North Carolina. A shy kid, this was the way I learned to socialize and relate to other people. I could more easily pretend to be a character on a stage with hundreds of people in an audience than chat with ordinary people in the real world.
Still, I got to know people. I knew Gert, an older women who acted with me onstage. I knew David Sedaris. I knew a director who would appear (briefly) in Natalie Wood’s final film. (Editing slashed his big role into less than a minute on screen.) And I had friends.
Rather than being a passing phase, those were the most influential years of my life. I can say that with authority now that I’ve reached 65 years.
A Moment on Stage
In December 1973 (as my imperfect memory recalls), I was onstage in my biggest role. I had the lead. There were 300 people in the audience. I didn’t move well (choreographers tried; I was simply not that good), but I could act. Hey, I even sang okay!
It was the script that mattered. The story we told. And Gert had a scene with me that I would never forget.
It was a humorous moment. She’d say that we shouldn’t put off until tomorrow thing we could enjoy today. Because if we enjoyed…
