Changing Seasons

On this rare occasion, when rehearsal was let out early and I have nothing else on my plate for the evening, I take great pleasure in sharing with you some of my thoughts and appreciations of late.  If you're only interested in news, then you can skip the bulk of this blog (just skip down to the third set of asterisks), as news is not my primary interest at the moment.

**

I totally missed both opportunities to celebrate with you my two-year anniversary of the move -- Sept. 2 marking my first day living in Massachusetts, and Oct. 1 marking my first day living in Boston.  Can you believe it's been more than two years now?

A lot of the wonder of the city, I must admit, has faded away, as should be expected, but there are still stretches of road that I travel on that take my breath away every time I'm on them.  Traveling south into the city on I-93 from points north (such as Beverly and Stoneham) is truly amazing, especially after dark.  Great care has obviously been taken to make this major entryway into the city breathtaking, and all I can say is they've succeeded.  (Interesting, no such care is taken to make the entrances from the south impressive.  Sometimes it is anyway, but it's purely accidental.)  The first sign of it is yet a few minutes away from the edge of the city: there's a bend in the highway that you take and suddenly, there it is looming over the horizon: the magnificent Boston skyline.  As you approach the city, the concrete highway system twists and turns all around itself, with all its complex entrances and exits and interchanges, running over and under and alongside you in various configurations, as if you're traveling through a fantastic fantasy world from the future (one that may well have been designed by M.C. Escher himself).  And in front of you, through the twists of concrete around you, tower the beautiful skyscrapers of Boston's financial district.  The most wonderful moment is at the point where you're finally crossing over to make your entrance; you cross a grand bridge, supported by this monumental cable-system forming gigantic, triangular arches above you, which they light with purple lights at night.  This cabled bridge is the most recognizeable sight in Boston. 

And just as you are coming right upon all those skyscrapers that you've been ogling for miles, you drop down into a tunnel under the city.  (Yes, folks -- the "Big Dig," billions of your tax dollars at work, and the savior of the Boston road system, not to mention much of its beauty, as the center of town used to be overrun by this massive, and massively ugly, elevated highway system.  I've only seen pictures, but the stories people tell of it are horrendous.  The center of the Financial District is now an incredibly beautiful place.)  The tunnel system itself is kind of a neat place to experience, full of curves, up and down, side to side, similar to the highways that got you there, such that you sometimes feel like you're inside a video game.  When you come out the other side several minutes later, you're on the opposite end of the city, the south side, which is noticeably less picturesque; but once, I came out of the tunnel just as the sun was setting on that side of the sky, and the moment was so wonderful, I was quite nearly transported; I almost had to stop my car in ecstacy.  (Which, of course, I did not do, lest I be honked into oblivion.)

The second most breath-taking stretches of road in Boston are the bridges that span the Charles River.  There are two of them, and they're equally gorgeous.  The Charles River, flowing in off the bay, separates Boston from Cambridge, a journey I make every Sunday on my way to and from church, as well as on many other occasions (there are several theatre and theatre groups in Cambridge, not to mention a lot of theatre artists, including several of my closest friends; Boston and Cambridge are essentially two halves of the same theatre community.  We had our "Like" rehearsals in Cambridge, for example, in one of the MIT classrooms [I felt like Good Will Hunting every time we rehearsed there]).  The Harvard Bridge (Massachusetts Avenue) is the one I normally take when I'm driving, though occasionally I'll choose to walk it instead.  It's absolutely glorious.  The bridge is probably a half-mile long, and the river is beautiful, frequently populated with scores of sailboats, oftentimes dozens of rowers, and sometimes just lots of geese and seagulls.  The sun is often rising or setting right over the water.  But most amazing of all, once again, is the city skyline -- this time stretched out from one horizon to the other in both directions in front of you.  When you're traveling north into Cambridge, the city you see is impressive for its beauty and stately respectability, for its line of trees along the edge of the river, and its simplicity.  When you're traveling southward into Boston, the view of towering skyscrapers and city architecture is simply grand, magnificent, and at night, shimmering with city life against the starry sky.  The view from the Longfellow Bridge is just as wonderful as the Harvard Bridge, but with one added benefit: You ride across it on the T.  When you're letting someone else man the wheel, you can peer out the windows and admire.  I always do.

The third and final stretch of road that continues to take my breath away is very different.  In the first two paths I described, massive roadways and buildings and the gigantic Boston skyline dominates the attention.  But this road, one that I travel almost every morning that I take my car to work (which is almost every day now that I'm in It's A Wonderful Life rehearsals and need to drive straight to Stoneham from work every afternoon), is tucked away in the southwest corner of the city, away from all the glitz and glamour.  It passes through a community called Jamaica Plain, and the road itself is called the Jamaicaway, and the road passes by a large body of water called Jamaica Pond.  We don't have "ponds" like this in Tennessee; in Tennessee when we see bodies of water this size, we call them "lakes," though I think there is a technical difference: Lakes do eventually flow into other bodies of water (albeit very slowly), whereas ponds do not (at least, I believe that is the difference).  This particular pond was created by the melting of a glacier many thousands of years ago.  There has been some debate about whether or not swimming should be allowed in the pond; currently it is not, because of the threat humans would pose to the unique eco system of it.  But rowing and boating is permitted, and I often see small boats in the water.  It's also circumnavigated frequently by joggers (an activity I took occasion to do one summer Saturday myself, with great enjoyment). The water is gorgeous:  Perpetually serene and still, but for the occasional stirring of a small fish or other marine life, or rowboat.  But what makes the drive through that entire area so wonderful is not just the pond; it's all the trees as well.  It's one of the few places I've gotten to experience in Boston that is still dominated by trees, and not by buildings.  Even though the tight and winding 4-lane roads are always packed with morning commuters, the drive is a peaceful one for me.  I find it easier to pray there.  I've felt so blessed to have my path to work be through such a beautiful place -- especially as I've gotten to witness the changing of seasons.  Not many Bostoners can say that they have a work commute as beautiful as mine.

**

Ah, the changing of seasons.  I was somewhat disappointed in my first two fall seasons in Boston, I have to admit that.  Probably because I'd heard so much about "Boston in the fall," I came expecting to be blown over by beauty, but I never found it to be any better than Tennessee -- perhaps not as good, because in the city, the trees are so outnumbered by the buildings.  Each of my first two Columbus Days, I drove up into New Hampshire to enjoy more of nature, but that wasn't Boston; that wasn't even Massachusetts.

This year I did not take any such a northward trip, but I didn't need to.  The autumn this year was as gorgeous as I have ever seen an autumn in my life. 

I thought at first that this year was going to be more of the same.  I don't think autumns smell exactly the same here as they do in Tennessee, and this year I had a kind of strange experience related (I think) to that phenomenon.  It was a very unusual experience for me: I started feeling Christmasy way back in September, as soon as the heat of the summer started to go away!  Ordinarily, I think I'm vigilant to keep my Christmas spirit at bay until after Thanksgiving, purely by conviction that seasons should be kept unadulterated; but sometimes when I do that, I have to fight just to allow the Christmas spirit to hit me at all when the time comes.  This year I just decided to feel what I was feeling, and I was feeling very Christmasy at the first sign of cooler weather.  I'm not sure I can explain it, but I was certain that it would mean the passing over of fall altogether, which had been my favorite season of them all until moving north.

Well, very fortunately for me, fall happened anyway, and when it did, it was wonderful.  It took its time, not really showing much of anything until suddenly the colors were all around in force like a gust of fresh air, a sudden leap into flaming technicolor that happened about mid-October, just before I came home for my high school reunion.  They deepened into prime time as the month went on, and I enjoyed watching it happen very much.

But as wonderful as it was to see the leaves on the trees, it was just as wonderful when the leaves began to fall.  The first few days in which the leaves were falling from the trees in droves, it was also raining a lot, off and on.  Some might have found this unbecoming, but because of the rain, no one could rake.  So the piles of leaves that would ordinarily be swept swiftly up and carted away were left to cover not only the ground, but the sidewalks as well, such that my 5-minute walk to work from my parking spot each morning (which is down a side road in a pleasant little residential community) was like walking on sheets and sheets of the most brightly-colored flannel you've ever seen.  And when the leaves finally dried and were raked into piles along the sides of the sidewalks, that was beautiful, too. 

Now most of the trees are bare, except for a handful that are still covered with the hard, brown leaf variety, or a scattered few still populated with the deepest shades of red you can find.  The piles of leaves beside the sidewalks and roadways are all brown and brittle now -- but even those brittle browns carry a kind of beauty about them.

It never did actually smell like a Tennessee autumn.  It's hard to describe, and certainly I don't know the explanation.  But for much of the fall, really ever since my last blog entry, I've carried a kind of peace about me that has helped me to enjoy the scenery.  God is the one that granted me that peace.

Most of the last four or five weeks have actually been unseasonably warm (for Massachusetts), with temperatures hanging out regularly in the 60s.  I enjoyed it, though many people complained.  But this week, it definitely made a sharp transition, dropping more than twenty degrees in two days.  There's a big difference between a high of 60 and a high of 40, and today's high was only 33.  On Sunday morning, I was content to wear my light jacket over my normal clothes when I went outside and that was it, perfectly comfortable.  This morning I had on my heavy jacket, my long johns, my wool cap pulled down over my ears, gloves, and a scarf wrapped around my neck, nose and mouth, and I was still frigid.  Because you have to remember: 40 degrees in Boston is never just 40 degrees -- it's 40 degrees plus wind, always.  And this morning it was in the mid-20s.  From the look of the 5-day forecast, this colder weather appears to be here to stay.  It makes those Christmas songs on my iTunes playlist feel even more at home.

You can always find things to complain about, particularly when it comes to the weather -- too warm, too cold, too wet, too cloudy, too windy -- but I simply choose to enjoy whatever it is that I'm given.  And I'm learning that the same can apply to all of life.  I can wish that certain things would change, or wish that certain things would not change; but the real key is to appreciate life for what it is: a road by which many, many seasons are experienced, and taken together, they make us into who we are: something beautiful.

**

Now for the news.

The performance of "Like," which I directed for last week's SLAMBoston 10-Minute Play Festival, went well!  It was not perfect, but it was positive.  I always set my bar really high for what I want to accomplish, and so far in my career, I am not a great enough director to make that high bar a reality.  But I definitely learned from some things that I thought worked well, and from some aspects of my directing that I think came up short.

I'm very excited about the challenge and thrill of directing Shadowlands, which will begin rehearsals in a little under three weeks.  We had our second production meeting this past Sunday night, and things continue to fall into place in terms of the design of our performance space (in the round!! I can't wait), lighting, etc.  I'm privileged to work with a team of designers that love to design, are incredibly experienced at designing shows in that space, and are just as excited as I am by the thrill of doing something different.  My producer Mike (same as my Jack Lewis Mike) has given me some great mentoring on how to work with a creative team: Cast your vision early to express the essence of what you're after, and then let the creators do what they love with as little meddling as possible.  This makes for a happy team of people that will enjoy working with you now and look forward to the time that they'll get to work under you again.  Obviously it's the director's job to guard the vision and make sure that all the creators remain on the same page, but that is very different from trying to make every creative decision along the way.  This is a rather difficult thing for me to accept and learn, as I like to feel I'm in control; but it's also a wonderfully freeing thing to learn -- especially since it's all that technical stuff that I'm so unadept at anyway.  Let them do what they know and love best, and let me do what I know and love best: Work with the actors.

And so my primary task of late, regarding Shadowlands, has been to get the show cast.  We had two days of auditions a week and a half ago, and from them we were able to cast about half the show.  The other half I've been having to cast by sending out emails to people that we simply think might be good in the show.  There's a definite community of actors surrounding the theatre in Mansfield, which provides a natural pool from which to draw, and most of the actors in that pool I've gotten to see perform at some point over the past year, so that helps.  But it's a tedious/unfun task of contacting the right people (emphasis on the right people) and beckoning them to join without twisting anyone's arm, which generally means leaving a message and waiting (urgh, waiting) for a response.  Mike was very wise when he advised we hold our auditions a month prior to the start of rehearsals.  Fortunately, progress has been positive, and although we're still one or two people short of a full slate, I think we're assembling a good team of actors, who will not only be capable of performing this show, but will also be good to work with.

**

Fortunately, my creative outlet is not limited to sending solicitous messages and waiting for responses.  No, my main creative outlet at the moment is rehearsing It's A Wonderful Life full-time in Stoneham.

It's been a great experience so far, primarily just for the opportunity to observe how an Equity production is run -- or, at least, how this particular Equity production is run.  Rehearsals regularly last for hours at a time, and for most of those hours, all actors are asked to be present, even though only a few are needed at a time.  Which gives me lots of time for note-taking, and I have a small notebook that I write in just for that purpose.  I write down my observations and reactions. 

Though there are some things that he does that many of the actors complain about (like asking everybody to be there all the time, which I personally think is a mistake), and though there are some creative things that I disagree with or would do differently, in general I feel like he is a good director.  He's solid, sensible, in control, and generally gives good direction.  His vision is simple and relatively clear, without lots of scene changes or clunky "wagons" moving sets around; it's based around a single set with simple pieces of multiple use, and I like that a lot.

Only six of our twenty-one actors are actually Equity (George, Mary, Clarence, Potter, Violet, and Ma).  Among them, different actors have very different styles of finding and performing a character, but in general they work together well, and they're all quite talented.  Our George is a really good actor, but I can't help but imagine at times how I think Matthew would do it, and I usually like my imagined Matthew's performance better.  He actually resembles Matthew to a notable degree -- tall, skinny, dark-haired, with a kind of pleasant everyman face.  But he's most certainly in his 40s, and he's cleanly bald on the top of his head -- lots of dark brown hair all around the sides, but on top, nothing.  He's going to be getting a toupe for the show . . .

There are two actors (actresses) that I would say strike me as remarkable in their connectedness and reality and everything that I love about acting: our Mary Hatch and Ma Bailey.  The man playing our Mr. Gower and Mr. Potter (two very different characters) is remarkable, but in a different way: He's an impeccable character actor, with a tendency to create exaggerations & caricatures that he then pulls back and makes more real over time as he lives in those extremes.

Interestingly, I'm getting to tackle both styles of acting in this show, and I'm loving the challenge.  My Harry Bailey was fairly simple to find, very "close to the bone," like me in a lot of ways, realistic, and I get to perform him essentially in my natural style.  But Sam Wainwright is very different.  Our director was big on getting us to make large choices, especially for those of us playing multiple roles, to help us differentiate between one character and another.  We kept trying out different things with Sam, until just last night we found a cigar-chomping, big-office, straight-shooting type of character that we both really liked.  For some characters that are very different from who I naturally am, it's simply a matter of finding an emotional connection to them and inhabiting that; but for Sam Wainwright, it's much more a physical transformation than anything else, and I'm not used to working from the outside in like that, but I'm discovering that sometimes it's absolutely necessary (for example, when that's how the director is telling you to do it).  He wants me standing up straight (I tend to put all my weight on one side when I stand), chest up, speaking in the lower ranges of my voice, finding a short and clipped speech pattern, and abandoning the theatrically expressive way of talking that I naturally employ and instead keeping the vocal inflection relatively flat and even dropping the energy at ends of sentences (like we're told never to do). 

Sam only appears in one scene, talking on the phone with George and Mary (trying to get them to buy stock in his father's plastics factory, completely unaware that George and Mary are falling in love with each other on the other line and barely listening to him).  Tonight we worked that scene several times, and every time, I felt like I found him more and more.  It's quite fun.  While the director was working with George and Mary on their portion of the action, I simply walked around the stage in my new persona and improvised conversation with imagined people, my father, older brothers, fellow business guys, another high school friend that came to New York with me, etc.  I was also getting used to my new prop: a cigar.  This is the first time I've ever played a character with a cigar, and obviously I have no personal experience with one.  But I've seen movies.  I can remember how the big guys in the movies like to play with them, chewing on them and puffing on them, rotating them, drawing them out and admiring them, how they would hold them in their fingers.  I had fun playing with it.  The interesting thing is, when I was first handed it, I assumed it was fake; I immediately stuck it in my mouth and started playing with it.  I also immediately noticed that the brown paper on this prop had a very unique taste.  Turns out, the cigar wasn't fake: it's a real cigar!  I think maybe my chewing was a little premature, as by the end of the night, I was finding little bits of tobacco (? or was it bits of cigar paper? I don't know, little brown bits of something) in my mouth (which I always tried to spit or fish out in character), and by the end of the evening, I could feel the edges of my lips on the left side of my mouth, where the cigar tended to hang, tingling up a storm . . .

The other non-Equity actors are a mixed bag, some are talented enough that they could be Equity themselves; others seem like your typical community theatre stock.  But overall, the presence of the professionals and the professional environment lifts the general feeling of expectation to a place that is a little different from most of the other theatre environments I've worked in -- and it's a level of expectation that I can certainly appreciate.  It pushes everybody to be professional, and to be of high quality.

As far as the personalities of the other actors go, they couldn't be more friendly.  Equity and non-Equity alike, I really see no difference in this bunch; everyone is great to work with.  The one really positive thing about being called to every rehearsal is that the cast gets to know each other really fast.  The Equity actress playing Violet was actually born in Knoxville, and lived most of her life in North Carolina, so we found an instant connection at our first rehearsal (she spotted me because my first attempt at a voice for Sam had a distinctly southern quality to it . . . ) and have become good friends already, along with the only other person in the cast in our twenties (most are older, plus one teenager and five children), going out together for our dinner breaks and occasionally after rehearsal for a little bit as well.  But really, almost everyone has spent ample time together and appears to enjoy each other's company (for the most part).  It definitely helps our onstage vibe as a group.  And getting to know new people is one of the biggest joys of the theatre.

In short, I'm having a good time with it all, and I absolutely cannot complain.  God has been true to His promise to give me rest in the midst of all the busyness -- even when sleep is kind of scarce to come by. 

Peace to you.

A whirlwind ... of wonderful.

You know how I said in my last entry that for me, "No news is no news"?  Well, unfortunately, sometimes no news means that I have so much going on that I can't seem to get a word in edgewise.

And that's been the case this time around.

Shadowlands has its auditions coming up this week -- this Thursday night, 11/6 and next Sunday night, 11/9 -- and I've had all kinds of tasks associated with preparations (a lot more than I anticipated!), mostly dealing with trying to set up a successful audition (ie, one that will actually draw the sorts of people that we need to cast!), but some also in preparing the two actors that I've already cast (the actors playing Joy and C.S. "Jack" Lewis).  Specifically, Mike (my Jack) is really concerned about his ability to memorize the lines, so I am going down to Mansfield tomorrow to rehearse only with him.  As he is also my producer, I've also been responding to various requests from him -- helping choose a poster design, accompanying him to a publicity event last week, etc.

I've had some sundry menial tasks to take care of for my upcoming acting role in It's A Wonderful Life -- mailing back to the theater a signed contract and a completed W-9, getting my own measurements because it wasn't workable to set up a time to meet with the costume designer, things like that.  But so far, the main impact that the show has had on my present has simply been to make it necessary to get absolutely everything done that I can before November 11, because that's the day that I will become a crazy person -- working 30 hours a week at New England Dairy & Food Council while rehearsing 38 hours a week at Stoneham Theatre!  And it will only get crazier when performances start, because the only nights off I'll have a week, Mondays and Tuesdays, will be spent rehearsing for Shadowlands!

Little did I expect it before, but now I see that just taking care of those things would have been plenty for me to do during this particular period of time.  But I also have an immediate project that I'm engaged in, something that I realize I haven't mentioned to you in a couple of months or more:  I'm directing one of the 10-minute plays for the fall SLAMBoston Festival!!  It's a relatively small commitment -- just six rehearsals over a period of five weeks -- but still, it's been having to fight all these other tasks for the attention that it needs and deserves.  And it's scheduled to perform on the evening of November 11 -- the same day as my first rehearsal for It's A Wonderful Life.

This past week has been especially trying, as despite my constant efforts to find a decent night's sleep, I've found myself up to the wee hours of the morning every night, just trying to get things done.  I went to bed last night -- at 3:20 in the morning after taking into account the gained hour for daylight savings -- really feeling weighted down and harried and frustrated that I was so.

Praise God, though, that He is never far away.  I went to sleep talking to Him about it, and all today He's been talking to me about it, encouraging me.  His words to me: That He's going to provide me with the rest that I need.  I don't just (or even primarily) mean sleep.  I mean Sabbath rest, the ability to rest in Him, to find joy in Him, to find strength in Him and replenishment.  When I look at the calendar over the next seven weeks, I don't see any opportunities for rest.  But I know now, after talking with Him about it today, that I will have rest, that I will find rest, because He will be providing it for me -- in unlikely places and at unexpected times, everywhere I look and wherever I go, hidden in secret crevices, sudden silences and whirlwind's eyes.

The other thing that He's been reminding me over the past few days, and none moreso than today, has been to be thankful.  Thankful for His grace, and a wonderful history, and all the unrelated blessings and provisions in my life, to be sure.  But specifically -- to be thankful for these projects.  Because every one of them are gifts that He has given to me -- remarkable, grace-filled opportunities, tremendous learning opportunities as well as doing opportunities, new relationships and friendships to be built.  The fact that I am being given two wonderful directing opportunities, one of them gracefully small and forgiving, one of them hugely momentous and significant.  And at the same time, getting my first chance to perform in an Equity theatre??  These are answers to prayer, blessings, provisions, and joys -- not persecutions.  It is my reliance on God that He will help me to enjoy them through and through, every last drop, and not to take any of it for granted.

My first production meeting for Shadowlands a few weeks ago was wonderful -- fueled with an exciting design and execution plan along the lines of my fondest production dreams in this kind of space.  For the first time in the history of the space, we'll be presenting a show there in the round, which means that the audience will be sitting all around the playing space with the action happening in the center.  I will be using a 4- or 6-person ensemble of actors not only to double up to play all the smaller roles in the show (Doctor, Registrar, Woman in Tea Room, etc.), but also as a kind of abstract tech crew for Lewis' life -- moving the set pieces on and off for every transition while dialogue is still going on, and being present in that capacity with no apology to the audience, as a kind of supernatural crew of spectators, unseen by the central characters.  The production will be fused with a magical wonder in the lights and in musical interludes surrounding the seeming sparceness of the reality going on in the scenes, a concept that I find central to the script.  As you can tell, I'm very excited about the production, and choosing the best cast to play all the remaining parts is my next exciting adventure.

The play that I'm directing for the SLAM is without question my favorite script to have had the chance to deal with in a SLAM production.  Since I've gotten to be its director from the beginning this time (as opposed to being tossed into midstream after the auditions, like my previous SLAM directing experience), I had the chance to choose a very well-written script called, "Like."  It's a brief, little piece in which a young married couple discuss what it's like to be six months pregnant (as she is), what their child will be like, and what they'll be like as parents . . . specifically, whether or not they'll be better parents than their parents were.  It's very funny and meaningful.  I also got to choose two very fine actors from the auditions who have been wondrous fun to work with, highly dependable, skilled and responsive, naturally funny and engaging, with a fine connection to each other onstage and wonderful chemistry. 

And true to its intended purpose for me, I've been able to learn a lot from my direction of "Like" about how I do and do not like to direct, and how I will want to direct in the future.  Pleasantly, I've been met with more satisfaction in my direction of this production than failure and dissatisfaction -- which were my primary emotions surrounding my direction of the last SLAM play.  I entered into this project with no delusions of trying to be a "Meisner director" by limiting myself to Meisner actors or actors I could make Meisner.  Rather I'm learning how to just be all of me with all that I know and then just, direct.  And I'm having a ton of fun with it, and am convinced that it's going to be great -- much better than the scene I directed over the summer.

And once It's A Wonderful Life begins rehearsing, it will just be pouring myself into that new part, working 30-hour weeks, and taking care of whatever comes up with Shadowlands preparations.  In addition, I have figured up that the $150 per week that I'll be making doing IAWL will be precisely (amazingly precisely) what I needed to make up for the 7.5 hours a week at my day job that I'll be sacrificing to undergo the project.  God really does always provide. 

And there's another neat thing about the production that I could've never predicted: While I'll be performing Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life in Stoneham, MA, my older brother Matthew will be performing George Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life in Knoxville, TN!!  When I found out this fact, from Matthew himself in a jazzed Facebook discussion, I realized that I was nearly as excited about learning that Matt would be playing George as I was about learning that I would be playing Harry.  And our productions open on the same night, too: the day after Thanksgiving.  How incredible that we'll be playing brothers -- albeit on stages 1,000 miles apart from each other.

And a couple weeks ago, I learned that in addition to playing Harry in the production, I'm also being given the opportunity to play Sam Wainwright (the successful young man that calls Mary from New York on the night that George reveals to Mary against his will that he loves her).

So a lot to be thankful for?  I'd say so.  And I plan on enjoying every drop of it.

**

I shall not take the time to describe all the wonderful experiences I had on my trip home a couple weekends ago for my high school reunion, but it should suffice to say that it was a very successful and enjoyable trip.  Flights in and out were pleasantly uneventful, and I even got to have lunch in Nashville -- and enjoy the ride back to Oak Ridge -- with some good college friends upon my arrival, one I hadn't seen in several years.  At the reunion events, I got to reconnect with several really good friends I hadn't seen in a long time, renew a lot of old acquaintances, and even make a few new friends and acquaintances along the way.  And I got to spend some time with my parents and all my siblings, and several of my nephews and nieces, which was really wonderful.  We played games and ate pizza and watched the Red Sox (lose to the Tampa Bay Rays in the seventh game of the ALCS) and talked, and had a grand ol' time. 

It was extremely brief, though, and a lot of people I would've liked to have seen I just didn't get an opportunity to.  So I'm looking forward to my trip home at Christmastime, which will also be brief (just six days), but not quite as brief as that.

**

Today after enjoying both church services at the Vineyard (I was running the projection), I ate a quick lunch at my favorite Sunday spot, and then came back to a field near the church to play soccer with several other young adults from the church.  I hadn't done anything like that in years, and I hadn't planned on doing it today, but as I was walking from my car to the church building in the morning, I was thinking about how I wished I'd gotten to do more outdoorsy activities this fall (as I'm feeling the November 11 date and knowing that that will end most such opportunities) . . . so when I received the casual invitation at the end of the second service to join them for a friendly game, I decided to go for it.  Even though I was wearing my Chuck Taylor's, jeans & a turtleneck (as opposed to sneakers and sweatpants, etc.), I played my lungs out and had an absolute ball.  It was so refreshing and rewarding, the perfect fall Sunday activity, and a tremendous connection to other Christians my age.  It was, well, wonderful.  (That seems to be my word of the day . . . perhaps I should put it in the title of this entry . . . )

And getting this entry written just caps off the day.  Peace to you!  And lots of love.

News!!! . . .

This fall I will now be officially performing in my first ever role in a professional theatre!!  And getting paid for it!!

I will be playing Harry Bailey, George's younger brother and war hero, in Stoneham Theatre's holiday production of It's A Wonderful Life!!  Even though Stoneham isn't one of the big Boston theatres (it's located in a small town about twenty minutes north of Boston), it is an Equity playhouse, which is a big deal.  And from what I've heard, they generally put on some pretty good shows there!  No, I've never actually seen a show there . . .  (I've never even been in the theatre . . . even the auditions were held in a rehearsal room separate from the actual theatre space . . . )

I got the phone call the day after my auditions at the ART, so I was expecting to receive a phone call from them.  To receive the welcome news from Stoneham was a pleasant surprise, and no less thrilling!  I accepted the offer on the spot.

I don't know yet how much I will be getting paid, certainly not as much as the Equity actors; but that's hardly the point.  (I've actually heard that Stoneham pays their non-Equity performers more than most Equity theatres do; but even that isn't very helpful, as I don't have a very good idea of what they're comparing it to . . . but I think a lot of professional theatres will pay their non-Equity performers a mere stipend; for example, the ART production I auditioned for last week was only offering us $300 . . . for the entire project.  At 96 hours of projected rehearsal time, that's only $3.12/hour -- and nothing for performances.  If Stoneham pays me anything on an hourly basis, it'll easily be more than that . . . ) 

The point is professional experience, which is beneficial in a lot of ways.  Obviously, it looks good on a resume.  But more to the point for me, my whole goal in moving north was to experience a host of different theatres and directors; and up to this point, most of the theatres and directors I've gotten to experience . . . haven't been very good.  And don't get me wrong, you can definitely get a lot of good experience and good experiences from mediocre theatres and lame directors . . . but can you really say you've gotten a well-rounded assortment of theatre experiences?  I suppose you could if you were only interested in making lame or so-so theatrical productions, but such is not the case for me.

Maybe to use qualifiers of 'good' and 'bad' to describe the moat I'm about to cross is a little too hopeful, and perhaps even inaccurate.  I suppose I should simply speak in terms of amateur and professional.  So far I've only obtained amateur experience, and I don't want to be limited to producing amateur theatre.  I'm not so gullible as to believe that professional theatre means great theatre.  Even if I go on to produce amateur theatre later in life (I really should use the term 'community theatre,' as 'amateur' sounds too much like a put-down), I would never want to be a merely amateur director, limited to community theatre experience.  Ultimately I'm not so focused on professional or community (as if professionals can't live in community, and community theatres can't create works of professional quality) as I am on greatness or mediocrity.  Nevertheless, it is my hopes that I might eventually find better works of theatre -- and more qualified/learned/gifted creators of theatre -- somewhere among those who have committed their livelihoods to it.  And for that reason, I plan on spending most of the rest of my time in (at least) this stage of my theatrical journey -- the experience gathering and learning stage -- searching out the professional arena. 

And professional theatre is different from community theatre in a lot of ways, particularly in their process of preparation and in their expectations on the actor, which is another reason why professional experience, even on a small level, is so important to me.  Because if I'm going to meet the great professional directors and work in the great professional theatres . . . I'm going to want to be one of the great professional actors.  Which is only achieved by experience.

Rehearsals for the show don't begin until November 11 . . . and the show opens November 28.  That would be a incredibly short rehearsal period for community theatre, but it's about standard for Equity.  The difference: They rehearse about 40 hours a week.  I haven't heard much about what the rehearsal schedule is going to be like for this particular show at this particular theatre, but at the ART they were asking us to keep 12pm to 10pm Tuesdays through Sundays open for the extent of the rehearsal period . . .

It will also be easily the most performances I've ever experienced for a single show.  In the four weekends and three weeks between opening night and our closing on Dec 21, we'll give 26 public performances -- plus an undetermined amount of school performances on weekdays.  (By comparison: I'd say the most shows I've ever performed for a single show is 10.)

The chance to begin networking among professionals in my craft is also of value toward the end of furthering my pursuit of professional experience.  I've found that the theatrical community that actually resides in the greater Boston area isn't very large, such that once you've done a few shows here, and seen a few shows, you start seeing people you recognize everywhere you go.  However, there is a sort of rift between the professional theatre community and the amateur community, and it isn't crossed over very often, such that while I may recognize some of the resident professionals from shows I've seen, essentially none of them will have seen me.  Call it a level of snobbery.  But it's also aided by the fact that Equity actors are not permitted to perform in non-Equity theatres . . . it's just a part of the union rules.  The part that I despise the most.

Which leads me to my final aspect of potential benefit in finally getting to perform in my first professional venue: The opportunity to work towards becoming Equity myself.  There are reasons to be wary of joining Equity, the actor's union, the biggest of which I just mentioned: It cuts off most of your actual acting opportunities.  Equity actors can only perform in Equity theatres (without special permission).  In some places, there is no question at all: Either all the relevant theatres are Equity anyway (ie, New York), or none of them are (ie, Tennessee).  But in Boston, it's not as clear; most of the theatres are not Equity.  But the best are.  So while being Equity greatly limits where you can perform, it at least limits you to the cream of the crop.  If you aren't Equity, you will never be able to make a living as an actor, and you'll have a hard time finding entrance to the theatres that are really doing the good stuff.  So it can be deadly to your career to switch over too soon, as you'll have to compete with the best.  But you have to do it eventually if performing is the goal of your career.  Performing isn't ultimately the goal of my career, but it is the goal of this portion of my career, and this portion of my career might last for some time.  And before I learn to direct professionally, I want to know what it's like to perform professionally.

The only ways to become a part of the union are to: 1) The Roundabout Way:  Be a member of the Screen Actors Guild for at least a year (and it would be a considerable detour from my true interests to pursue that route); 2) The Lucky Way:  Get cast by an Equity theatre in a situation where they are in contractual need to cast your role with an Equity performer (Equity theatres are required to cast a certain percentage of their casts with Equity actors), in which case the theatre can elect to sign you up on the spot; or 3) The Regular Way:  Earn the required number of "Equity points" . . . one point for every performance you make with an Equity theatre.  I'd have to go back to my notes from an informational seminar I attended a couple of years ago, but I believe that (at that time) the number of points you needed to join Equity was 50.  Which would mean that after It's A Wonderful Life is over . . . I'll be more than halfway there.  I'll do some research on the issue and give you an update when I know the facts . . .

**

Incidentally, I thought I gave a pretty great audition for the ART's production of The Communist Dracula Pageant last week.  And I had a great time doing it!  They had us learn this "hand dance" where we had to learn this sequence of arm and hand positions and execute it to some faster and faster music (I kept thinking about how much I though Matthew would enjoy that sort of challenge!  Think Hello Dolly! waiter choreography isolated to your arms), dance about the space like a funny, fun, full-bodied maniac, and finally tell the entire story of Romeo & Juliet without words in 45 seconds.  (I should've known that the "acting exercise" wouldn't have been a dialogue scene -- this was, after all, an audition for the non-speaking ensemble!)  They even asked each of us if we could sing, and if we could, to sing a little for them a capella, so I gave them a little bit of "Cest Moi" from Camelot. At any rate, I had a lot of fun, and felt pretty great about what I gave them.  The directors themselves actually seemed to respond favorably to me, too!  But then again, I guess they're supposed to do that.

The fact that I didn't get cast didn't surprise me; as you'll recall, they were looking for actors in their "30s to 50s," and I am sadly not a part of that subset.  I was, however, surprised that they never even contacted me.  Before moving north, I would've expected not to be contacted, as in Oak Ridge at least, people who aren't cast are almost never notified individually.  Up here, though, it has seemed that most theatres did do that.  Maybe the professional ones don't?  Ah, well.  Que sera sera.

**

So what else has transpired in the past week-and-a-half?

Tara Brooke, the artistic director of Riverside, where I performed Oklahoma!, asked me to consider being a part of their cast for Big River, performing next month.  I didn't want to do that, however, since, as you'll recall, Riverside is one of those theatres with which I was very unimpressed, and Tara Brooke, while a capable leader, was an incredibly uninspiring and uncreative director.  And the role being offered was part of the ensemble, not like Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn or anything like that.  However, she sounded pretty desperate, and it's always a little flattering to be sought out, so I considered it.  Happily, I discovered that I had a conflict with the first weekend of their performances, and so wrote her back to tell her that I couldn't.  A few days later, she writes me back to tell me that she's found somebody to fill that role, but he couldn't be there for the second weekend of performances -- and would I be interested in learning the part just to perform it second weekend?  Well, since the ART show hadn't panned out and none of the other auditions coming up for these next couple of months sounded interesting, and because there is something somewhat appealing about only being tied to one weekend of performances instead of two, and I do need more musical theatre experience . . . I decided to accept her proposal.  And for a moment it looked like I might have my first rehearsal for Big River today (Saturday). 

A few days after that . . . she wrote back to say that the guy that she thought she had lined up for the first weekend had bailed out on her . . . and the day after that she wrote back to say that she was just going to find some creative way to get around not having anybody to play the part (either via double-casting someone else, or by writing that part of the play, not sure which), so that was that.  I was relieved to wake up this morning with a clean slate and no rehearsals at Riverside Theatre Works.

**

So, you might ask, what was my big conflict with their first weekend of performances that I couldn't do Big River? . . .

I'm coming home to Tennessee for a weekend!!  Why?  To attend my 10-year high school reunion!!

Yes, folks, as of this past June, I've been a high school graduate for ten years.  Let's not think about it.

So I'll be flying into Tennessee on Friday, October 17 around noon and flying out on Monday, October 20 at around 4:30 in the afternoon.  I just finished purchasing the plane tickets. 

Now, usually I just fly straight into Knoxville, because while flying into Nashville is usually cheaper, the cost difference is usually too small to be meaningful, $60 or $70, which is cancelled out when you consider the cost of gas and the car depreciation of driving to and from Nashville twice, not to mention the time spent.  However, in this case, the cost difference was simply too much to pass up: $221 round trip from Boston to Nashville, vs $497 round trip to Knoxville.  Not sure why the Knoxville airport is so much more expensive now than it was just three months ago, but $500 was way more than I was hoping to spend on airfare this time around.  Don't worry.  If I can't find anyone to take the 5+ hours out of their schedule to drive to and from Nashville to pick me up and drop me off that weekend, I'll simply rent a car, or take a bus (either way should cost significantly less than the $276 difference in airfare).

Friday night, 10/17, I'll be attending the ORHS Wildcats Homecoming football game, which is probably the reunion event that I am looking forward to the most all weekend.  I used to be at all the football games in high school because I played trumpet in the marching band, and the memories attached to those times are especially sweet.  Most of my lasting high school friendships played in the band along with me, and we went on some wild bus trips together.  The crisp chill of the cold, the excitement of the sport, the group challenge of the task at hand, the thrill of the music . . . ah, yes.  It will be a fun context in which to see some old friends, some of whom I haven't seen since moving north, some I haven't seen in several years, and some I won't have seen since high school.

Saturday morning, I plan on attending a tour of the newly renovated school with several of them, and then enjoying a picnic lunch, and then that evening is the big social event at the Oak Ridge Country Club.  I'll probably spend much of the afternoon helping my friend Jennifer celebrate her new apartment (and watching the UT-Mississippi football game . . . ).

But Sunday is wide open, as is my breakfast and an early lunch on Monday, 10/20, before I'll need to head out for the Nashville airport again.  I know, it isn't a long trip at all, and I'm sure I will spend most of that open time with my family.  But I will still be coming home for the week of Christmas.  So no worries.

**

Okay, I've rambled now for far too long, and I shall now go to bed, leaving my entry almost completely unedited.  Enjoy!  Good night, all!

Time to catch up

So I feel terrible that I haven't written in over a month. 

I blame this neglect primarily on three causes:

1) No news.

2) Lots of activities.

3) The Red Sox.

And I will use those three points as the organizational blueprint for this entry as well, helping me to construct an entry that, with any luck, will get us back on track going forward . . .

**

So you've heard the expression, "No news is good news"?  Well, for me, no news is, well, no news. 

The likelihood of "managing" the fall SLAM seems to have dwindled away.  A few days after I wrote my last entry I learned that Lyralen wasn't even going to be producing the event anymore, and has passed the reins along to a theatre group that's been co-producing the festival all year, Company One.  I almost withdrew my name completely at that point, but after praying about it, I agreed to let Lyralen pass my name on to Company One as a possible filler of that position.  I haven't heard a thing from them.

I got a very enlightening email from the producer of Romeo & Juliet, just a couple days after my last entry.  It read, "Dear Lucas, we are still auditioning. When we have our next set of auditions I will let you know. Thanks for being patient and we would still like to keep you in the loop."  Since then . . . nada.

A long time went by without anymore auditions, as I've been a lot more selective in this season about what I audition for, waiting for opportunities from professional theatres.  The professional theatres have either not been auditioning, only auditioning Equity actors, or only auditioning shows with no available parts for my demographic.  I was starting to get kind of antsy, so when I heard about a professional theatre holding auditions for It's A Wonderful Life, I decided to go for it, even though the theatre (Stoneham Theatre) is a smallish one outside the city, and even though the show itself doesn't really excite me as an artist.  Don't get me wrong; I absolutely love the movie It's A Wonderful Life -- one of my all-time favorite Christmas classics; but it isn't exactly the most challenging show to pull off, and for a guy my age, the only available roles are even simpler still.  I suppose I'd be eligible for the Hee-Haw guy (can't remember his name), but I'm not exactly the right type for it; so most of the parts left for me would be extras.  The best possible role for me would be Harry, George's younger brother, who to my remembrance only makes an appearance at the end of the show.  Nevertheless, I was glad to be auditioning for something, just to keep my audition abilities tested and sharpened.  Immediately after the audition, there was a couple of things I could immediately identify that I could've done better, but I also felt pretty good about what I'd done, and it seemed to have been received well by the director (of course there's no way of knowing).

A few days after the audition I got an email that sounded awfully like the emails I got from R&J: "Thank you very much for auditioning for It’s a Wonderful Life at Stoneham Theatre. I wanted to email you to let you know that you are still under consideration for the show, but it may be a little while before you hear from us. We will be in touch one way or the other in the coming weeks, either to set up a further callback, to cast you or to let you know that we do not have a role for you this time around."  So once again, I went through the process of trying to forget about it.

Just today I heard back from them.  Actually, someone from the theatre called me last night while I was in small group, and later that night when I went to check my messages, I couldn't because of something weird that my phone was doing.  Today, I forgot that I had a still-unchecked message on my phone until after work.  I discovered a message there from some guy at Stoneham named Chris wondering if I could come in "tomorrow" (today) at 1:00pm to read for the part of Harry, George's brother!  It wasn't exactly a call-back for the part; it was actually a call-back for the role of George, but they were apparently doing a scene with Harry in it and were interested in having me help read!  I so would've loved to have done that, but there's no way I would've been able to come in anyway, without giving any advance notice to my workplace.  I called Chris back, didn't speak to him, but left him a message apologizing for having missed the call and letting them know that I was still very interested.  This evening I had an email from Chris: "Lucas, You're still in the running.  I'll be in touch soon - Chris J."  So yay!!  That's kind of exciting!!  It's funny; I'm actually more excited about the possibility of being called back than I am about the possibility of getting cast . . .

The biggest news, though, is an event coming up for me tomorrow.  Tomorrow I will be going to what sounds like a very unusual audition for what sounds like a very unusual play at one of the top professional theatres in the Boston area.  The theatre, American Repertory Theatre, is actually located in Harvard Square in Cambridge.  I've said before that one of the biggest differences between theatres back home in Tennessee and the theatres in New England is that back home every theatre wants to say they do the time-tested shows that have come through Broadway, whereas up here, every theatre wants to be able to say they do premieres -- shows that have never been done before (or at least not in New England).  The ART is an enormous venue making a lot of money producing very artsy, edgy, off-the-wall premieres, and this one seems to be no exception.  The play is called, The Communist Dracula Pageant, and here is its description from the ART website:

"It is 1989, and one of the most vicious Eastern European regimes of all time is on trial.  And it is 1976, and Nicolae and Elena Ceausescu, at the height of their powers, mount a pageant to celebrate the glory of the Romanian nation.  And it is the fifteenth century, and Vlad Tepes - the original Count Dracula - steps out of the dark mists and swings his cape about him. He looks around him and his eyes gleam red.  The Communist Dracula Pageant is a wild and offbeat romp through the web of Romanian myth and history, drawn from the imagination of one of this country's most lauded young writers. Our own election season provides the perfect backdrop for the premiere of this theatrical satire on the forging of a national identity, and the power of a president to rewrite the news."

From this particular audition they say that they are seeking to cast, "2 Men/2 Women ages 30s-50s to play multiple non-speaking roles . . . spirited, enthusiastic actors who are interested in being part of a large ensemble.  We are looking for actors who move well and are comfortable playing multiple roles.  This is a non-speaking assignment."  I know that I am not 30s-50s . . . but believe it or not, I'm at least getting pretty close to 30 . . . I figured I would let them decide if I fit the mold or not.  The worst that could happen is they don't cast me, unless I made a fool of myself at the audition, which I'm not going to do. 

Just the experience of doing the audition is extremely exciting, not just because all audition experience is good, but because the audition itself sounds wonderfully challenging, intriguing and probably even fun.  Here's how it's described: "The audition is a general call which will consist of a group warm-up, a movement sequence, and then an acting exercise.  There are no time slots."  It's also scheduled to last for a full hour and a half: 11am to 12:30pm.  I'm so unbelievably thrilled with this set-up . . .  Nothing to prepare?  I'm in heaven!  (It's the prepared pieces that always get me so rattled . . . )  But even more than that, my strengths as an actor are really given a chance to shine when I am given the task of thinking on my feet, interacting with other actors, and taking directions from a director.  I really can't wait.  And if I can give them good work, even if I'm not cast, I'll be leaving them with an abundance of impressions for future opportunities.  I will be giving them an hour and a half to watch me act!!  That kind of an opportunity is incredibly rare and indescribably invaluable.

So I doubt very seriously that I will get cast; I'm young and inexperienced.  My main objectives tomorrow are to be relaxed, creative, and have fun.  But some interesting notes if I did get cast:  First of all, it wouldn't conflict at all with Stoneham's It's A Wonderful Life, as rehearsals for that won't begin until November 11 -- two days after the close of The Communist Dracula Pageant!  (If they did conflict, though, I would certainly choose the ART over Stoneham.  While the Stoneham is definitely a step above community theatre, the ART is several steps above . . . ) It would be my first opportunity to work on a mainstage professional theatre, with rehearsals from 1pm to 10pm up to six days a week, and 26 performances in three weeks and four weekends.   But here's the biggest news: Rehearsals would begin a week from Thursday!!  I guess there's one very good thing about that: No waiting around to find out about this one!!  I hope, though, that they tell us yes or no very quickly . . . because if I'm cast, it would mark the beginning of the end of my full-time status at the New England Dairy & Food Council.  It's comforting to know that I already have their blessing, but I'd like to give them as much advanced notice as possible . . . 

Oh, well; I don't think I'll be cast.  Be relaxed, be creative, have fun!!

**

So for NOW, there has been no news to speak of.  But there hasn't been a lack of activities.  (And that, as much as anything, has discouraged me from keeping "blogging" on my ever-growing list of little activities . . . )

1) Voice lessons once a week, usually on Fridays after work.  Still extremely valuable, still experiencing progress, and I still have a long way to go to be able to sing well, comfortably and consistently with the full range I desire.  (If only I could discipline myself to spend more time practicing my music outside of the lessons . . . )

2) Until recently: Coaching sessions with Lyralen once a week, on Wednesdays after work, helping me prepare audition monologues.  We wrapped that up a few weeks ago, with a session in which I performed for her all seven of the contemporary monologues we'd been working on, one right after the other without stopping, like at an audition, and not only was I very pleased with how effectively I was able to perform them that way, I learned some things even at that final session about how to perform that could've stood alone as worth the price of all eight sessions put together . . .

3) Ballroom dance classes once a week!  On Wednesdays in the early evening.  (When these started up, Lyralen and I had to find other times during the week to wrap up our last couple of sessions . . . )  I'm really loving it!!  Even though I'm the youngest one in the class.  In fact, the next youngest people are at least ten years my senior, and the average age of the class must be close to twice my age.  Another odd thing is that there are almost twice as many men in the class as women!  We are instructed to swap partners almost continually, so about half the time I have a partner to dance with and about half the time I don't.  Actually, though, that's not been all bad, since sometimes when I'm by myself I can experiment a little more and worry less about stepping on someone.  At any rate, I've learned how to waltz, foxtrot, cha cha and tango!  The basic steps, anyway.  Tomorrow evening is our last class.  The set-up will be as if we were at a dance social, with food and drinks and a juke box that will shuffle the music freely between the styles we've learned.  We'll simply dance away at will and try to have some fun.  I will definitely be taking some follow-up classes to this one . . .

And finally:

4) Work out at the gym with my physical trainer, once a week, usually after work (exactly what day of the week we meet changes with almost every session).  I really continue to enjoy this, and I continue to enjoy working with my trainer, Freddy (whom I described in my last entry).  I was wonderfully blessed to discover this past week that not only is Freddy a great guy and a tremendous trainer -- he's a Christian!  I actually wasn't surprised at all by this; his character and temperament are heaven-sent.  I simply hadn't considered the possibility! 

Nevertheless, I may choose to scale back our sessions to every other week, and possibly even take a break from them altoghether.  I simply run out of time!  Because it's not enough to merely work out during my once-a-week meeting with Freddy.  If I really want to build muscle and get myself in shape, I need to work out on my own two or three times a week in addition, and I'm having trouble finding that time. 

That I need to work out more often is something that I was kind of expecting him to tell me.  What I wasn't expecting him to tell me was this:  Eat more.  A lot more!!  At first, it just made me laugh.  He'd look at me kind of sideways and ask, in his broken English, "Do you eat regularly?" "How many meals a day do you eat?"  I'd just laugh.  Yes, yes, I know I'm scrawny.  But I really do eat.  Three meals a day, and I snack between meals.  Finally a couple weeks ago, he gave me this response: "If you want to build muscle, you will need to eat more.  Five, six meals a day.  Plus snacks.  Every three hours, eat."  I'm finding this kind of hard to do.  It's hard time-wise, and it's hard on my budget . . .  Of course, Freddy is always sure to remind me that whatever I eat it must be healthy.  Plenty of vegetables and so forth, though to build muscle, I need lots of proteins (lean meats, he says) and whole grains.  At any rate, I'll keep trying.  We'll see how it goes!

And in addition to the weekly activities, there have been other things.  I finally made my first trips to the dentist since moving north, and I finally met up with a primary care physician for my first physical since I was in, like, junior high (no joke).  Unfortunately, now I'm going to need to schedule an appointment with an oral surgeon to get my wisdom teeth taken out, and I need to brush softer to decelerate my gum loss.  But I'm pleased to say that my teeth are some of the healthiest my dentist had seen, and I'm even more pleased to report that I am extremely healthy.  No complaints from my PCP.  Even my cholesterol and blood pressure are in good shape, and I seem to have neither hyper- nor hypothyroidism (conditions that one of my beloved sisters has dealt with).

And I do occasionally get to hang out with my friends, as well!  I also find that I still have to do things like laundry, my portion of the apartment cleaning, and even sleep occasionally.  Oh, yeah, and go to work.  'Tis life.

**

And finally, essentially every waking minute that I haven't relegated off to one of these many activities . . . I fill with either watching the Red Sox games on television or reading up on all the Red Sox news.  We're right now battling it out with the Tampa Bay Rays for the lead in the AL East.  In fact, tonight the Sox finished the second game of a 3-game series against the Rays at Tropican Field in Tampa.  We won last night to tie us for the lead, but then lost tonight, so we're one game back again . . . we can tie it back up with a win tomorrow night . . .  It's a nail-biter!  We're pretty much guaranteed a spot in the playoffs, being seven games ahead of the Twins in the wild card race with only ten games left to play, but going into the playoffs as a wild card team will pit us against the league-leading LA Angels in our first round, with home-field advantage going to the Angels.  We would much rather play the Chicago White Sox with a start at Fenway Park in our first round, which would be the scenario if we finish the season with a division title. 

I can't help but get into the drama of it all.  I have to admit, it's somewhat of an addiction for me . . . the sheer drama of the game, matched up with all the numbers and stats . . .  Ahh!  I can't stop watching!

While we haven't dominated this year like we did last year, it isn't because we have a less tremendous team -- other teams have simply been more competitive.  And we're playing the best ball right now that we've played all season.  Most of all, the players and coaches are genuine joys to root for -- great team players with great attitudes and fine character.  Not every baseball fan can say that about their team, but I can truly say that about ours.  I know they're not perfect, but they're one of the best.  I'm hooked . . .

**

Well, that about wraps it up for now! 

I know better than to make any promises, but I can certainly say this: I think I'll be writing again before the month is out.  The Sox aren't going away for a few weeks yet, and I'll always have plenty of activities to fill my schedule . . . but hopefully some real news is just around the corner. 

So I hope you'll be hearing from me again very soon.  And hopefully I'll hear from you as well.

Take care!  And be blessed.

Opportunity, Celebration, Development

I've continued to meet with Lyralen once a week to work on monologues and I have been thoroughly enjoying it, and growing a ton.  I love the way she coaches me as an actor, and I always come away feeling alive, exciting and thrillingly genuine.  Not only have I come away with a stronger set of monologues for auditions, but I've learned the best ways to approach a new monologue personally as an actor -- and how to coach an actor as a director.

As you may recall, Lyralen is also the producer of the SLAMs I've been involved with over the past year, first as an actor last November, then as an assistant director in March, and finally as a director just a few weeks ago (see my last entry), and I've been looking forward to a chance to direct again in the next installment of the festival this coming November. 

Well, a new upward twist to that ongoing saga has been introduced.  Last week at our coaching session, Lyralen asked me if I'd ever considered managing . . . and if I'd be interested in being the Managing Director of the entire festival starting this fall!!

Now, before you get too excited, let me qualify that by letting you know that "Managing Director" is really a fancy term for "the guy that does all the administrative stuff."  Send out the emails, coordinate the play selection process (which probably does not mean that I would have a preponderence of say over which plays are selected; I would simply be in charge of coordinating the process), coordinate the process of assigning directors for the plays (ditto), keep track of who's who and doing what and where and when, coordinate and communicate with the Boston Center for the Arts (which provides the performance space), etc.  When you boil it down that way, it actually doesn't sound very appealing at all to me. 

But according to Lyralen, it would be a great way to build relationships with other leaders and artists in the theatre community . . . and could look great on a resume.  I would get paid, as well, but not a lot -- about $500 for the whole shebang.  Still though, it'd be "professional" work.  And furthermore, if being the Artistic Managing Director of a theatre someday really is my dream, as I've often said, then this could be a pretty worthwhile opportunity, even if it's just to get some of my knocks in early.

I asked Lyralen if being the Managing Director would keep me from being available to actually direct one of the plays, and she told me on the contrary -- I'd be pretty much guaranteed the opportunity to direct for the festival as often as I want!

And the last little caveat could prove to be the clincher for me.  Lyralen told me that if I don't choose to take that responsibility . . . the SLAM might not happen at all this fall.  Apparently as it stands, Lyralen simply cannot reasonably continue to hold onto all of those responsibilities herself, and she has no one else lined up to take it on.  That last bit is as flattering as it is guilt-ladeling . . . and somewhat daunting.

I have not yet made a decision, and I'll be talking to Lyralen more about it tomorrow.  But right now, I'm really leaning towards doing it.  Please pray that God will give me wisdom.

**

Oh yeah, and by the way: Yesterday (Monday), I turned 28 years old!

It turned out to be a really tremendous day, even though it started off kind of rough.  I left home at the perfect time to get to work on time, and was in good spirits.  I drove my car to the spot on the street where I normally park it, and walked almost all the way to the T before I realized that I didn't have my cell phone with me.  Usually when I find I'm missing my cell phone, it's because it fell out of my pocket in the car.  So I ran all the way back to my car . . . but couldn't find it.  I spent too long trying to find it; I really didn't want to be without my cell phone on my birthday!  But it simply wasn't there.  So I ran all the way back to the T station, now quite late, quite sweaty, and quite unhappy.  Which made for a long, unpleasant ride to work, and the discouragement of being 15 minutes late.

Isn't it weird how on one's birthday, every emotion seems so much more potent?  It's like I can't help but hold onto this intense conviction that everything should go right and well on my birthday, so when things do it's wonderful, and when things don't, it's like, devastatingly hard to deal with.

At any rate, I was determined not to let a negative at the start mess up a good day, so I fought the good fight, as my pastor would say, and really did come away with a great day.  Fortunately I had something great to look forward to: Dinner that night with my friends John, Amie and Sarah.  (Sorry, Dad -- I know that you tried hard to teach us that dinner is consumed at noonday, and supper is what you eat for the evening meal . . .  But up here, no one calls it supper.  Using the word "supper" is a sure-fire way of saying, "I'm not from around here . . .")

Actually, the meal was prompted by a birthday gift from one of my good friends in Tennessee, Jennifer, which I received last week:  A series of three $25 gift certificates to high-class restaurants in Boston.  The trick is that each of the gift certificates can only be used if your meal ticket comes to at least $35.  And there is no way that I would want to spend $35 for a meal on my own!  So, not only was this gift a great encouragement to eat at some nice restaurants . . . it's a great way to force me to eat out with others.  What better occasion to take the hint than on my birthday itself!  So last week I sent out the invitation to my three closest friends in town, and all three of the recipients accepted.  I feel very loved.

Now, if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know John and Amie pretty well.  The three of us have been close friends for over a year now, having met while performing in the epic disaster David the Musical in May of '07.  Sarah is Amie's next-door neighbor, who slowly but very surely found her way into our close-knit group, and she's been a great addition.  Of course, she's not a thespian -- she's a lawyer of all things.  But she's our age, smart and fun, good for conversation and hanging out and doing whatever (and at least she likes to go to the theatre) . . .  She's also a Christian.  (Does John have any idea what he's gotten himself into? . . . cue maniacle laughter . . . )

The restaurant I chose for our outing was a very neat, cozy, little Italian restaurant just three doors down from Paul Revere's home, right in the heart of the historical district northeast of the center of town (known simply as the "North End," which has been the Italian side of Boston for probably a century or more at least), a restaurant with too much style and elegance to be quaint but still refreshingly unpretentious and full of personality.  The food was obviously authentic, as they made no effort to dress it up to look "American," and I'm not sure how my friends liked their food, but at least none of them complained.  I absolutely loved my food -- a pasta and chicken dish with fresh tomatoes and an olive oil-based concoction that was to die for -- and I'm not just saying that because it was my birthday (or because I was enjoying it for free) . . .

Afterwards we walked around that part of town, hung out at an enormous statue of Paul Revere with his gigantic horse and tri-cornered hat, the Old North Church where the lantern was lit to cue the Revolutionary War, a couple of different fountains and various alleyways, and in general just enjoyed each other's company, talking and making each other laugh before calling it a night around 9:45 . . . it was a work night, after all.

And to think that all that was actually just an afterthought!  My "big" celebration is planned for this coming Sunday -- at Fenway Park!!  That's where the action will start, at any rate, as the Red Sox will be playing the last of a three-game series against the Toronto Blue Jays, and after the game we'll hopefully transition to someone's house, or perhaps to a park nearby if it's nice, to play games of our own.  I invited several more of my friends than just the three to that one, though I'm not sure yet who all will be able to join me for it.  I'm really looking forward to the event, though.

Oh yeah, and I also received Happy Birthday wishes from scores of friends, new and old.  Facebook is good for that sometimes -- which was a comforting surprise to discover before leaving work yesterday, especially given the fact that I had felt so discouraged about leaving my cell phone at home . . . and the well-wishes continued on into the evening, even continuing today.  I heard from most of my family, received gifts from my friends Melissa from Tennessee and Akiba from Boston, etc. etc.  God knows how to lift my soul; He made me for relationships.

**

So what's left in terms of news?

In addition to my meetings with Lyralen and my ongoing voice lessons (with which I continue to be very pleased, guiding my ongoing, slow but steady progress as a singer), I have begun meeting with a physical trainer!  Today I had my fourth meeting with him, and I'm really eating it up.  When I was first introduced to the gym back in college, my friend Damian was acting as a kind of casual, personal trainer.  Since then, nearly a decade later, this is the first personal guidance I've had regarding the best methods to work out (beyond, "this is how you use the machines").  The Asian man that is training me (the YMCA that I attend is in Chinatown), Freddy, is excellent, patient, obviously knowledgeable and intelligent and loves what he does, seems to genuinely care about me, and knows how to work me really hard without utterly destroying me.  Freddy is a tiny guy -- about half my height and very thin -- but firm, tight, strong and fit, with a sensible but feisty personality.  I feared that it wasn't going to work out when I first met him and had a lot of trouble understanding anything he was saying.  But now I understand him just fine, and I truly appreciate him.  I'm glad I'm doing it.

But perhaps the most exciting newsflash of them all?  I finally did it.  I finally signed up for a dance class!!  Tomorrow after my session with Lyralen, I will head north to the Cambridge Center for Adult Education to attend my first session of a six-week course entitled, "Intro to Ballroom Dancing."  The class will meet six times from 6:45 to 8 on Wednesday nights.

Why ballroom dancing?  I've taken tap and ballet classes before, both as a kid and as an adult, so I feel like I already have some experience learning solo routines, or at least I have less to fear in that arena.  In the world of dancing with a partner, I feel way behind the curve, and a little self-conscious about it.  And really, unless you're a chorus dancer, you're at least as likely to be choreographed to dance with someone else on the stage as a performer as you will be to dance by yourself.  As a guy, I feel like I should know how to lead a partner through a simple, social dance routine.  My lack of experience there limits me not only on the stage, but in social situations as well.  I figure it's time to get rid of that inexperience as soon as possible.

Once this six-week intro course is done, I plan on continuing my dance education by taking more ballroom dancing classes, either there or elsewhere, and by the end of the year, I plan to be taking classes in latin dance as well.  At some point, of course, I will change gears to pick up some of the solo styles of dance as well, like jazz and tap.  The goal, of course, is to be a "triple-threat" -- or at least to be an actor that can sing and dance well enough not to be excluded from a career in the musical theatre world.  I'm very excited about this particular, small step towards that goal.  I'll let you know how it goes!!

**

I still haven't heard anything back from the Fiddlehead Theatre about the production of Romeo & Juliet that I auditioned for several weeks ago.  But yesterday they held another round of auditions for it.  That doesn't really bode well for my chances at being cast.  So I've decided to just move on.  At least this leaves me open to more opportunities this fall!!  . . .

**

I wish you all an abundance of grace and a view of the world as large and clear as God's view.  It's what I wish for myself as well.  And so I press toward it, onward, onward.