LJ: Is this actually happening?

When I was at Susquehanna, possibly the most important thing to me while I was there was theater. It was the one place where I felt nearly entirely at ease with every aspect of myself. My training there provided me with an awareness of myself personally, physically and even to a small degree spiritually, while at the same time teaching me about awareness outside of myself, how to observe and what to observe - what things mattered - about the world around me. My career in theater came to a very satisfying conclusion at the end of Three Birds, and it was the last time I plied my trade as an actor. Since then, I haven't had any clear notion to get back onstage. To the contrary, in fact - everything I've done since college seems to suggest that my talents lie in the technical and organizational aspects of the art. I feel even more at ease with myself in those roles, especially in the role I play in Cherry Red.

This is to the dismay of the people who saw (and enjoyed) me perform at SU. Melanie, Chris and MJ have been the three people who have most wanted to see me back on the stage, simply because they appreciated what I did at SU. But as good as being onstage felt at times, I'm not sure I ever really made the kind of connection to the roles that I intended to. In fact, I hesitantly go so far as to say I just wasn't able to go that far. I don't think I'm all that capable a performer.

Anyway, Chris (who moved to NYC in August) was down for the holiday, and came to the show last night, then came out with us to Eat First afterwards. As we were walking down to H Street, Chris and Renfield were introduced, and mention was made that Chris and I had gone to college together. Chris - as is his want, I suppose - then saw fit to add, "back when he was onstage." I haven't hid the fact that I performed in school way back when, but I also add the necessary postscript to anyone who's asking that it really was a long time ago, and that I really doubt I could pull off the things Cherry Red directors demand of their performers. Besides which, I don't really want to go through all the hassle of doing all those annoying things that actors have to go through. I've got a comfortable gig with Cherry Red where I'm valued for what I can bring to the table. No sense in mucking that up, right?

So, Renfield expressed some small amount of surprise that I had indeed acted at one point (perhaps more interest than surprise - I don't know), and it was at this point that Ian asked me whether or not I'd be interested in getting back up in front of folks, in that totally serious yet comfortably nonchalant way Ian has of asking things like this, an interpersonal skill that he has absolutely mastered. I readied my pat answer and was ready to recite it when he said, "because I was thinking of asking you to be in the Anger Box reading."

Turns out I didn't immediately reject the idea out of hand, like I'd expected myself to. It was intriguing. I mean, I like the idea of the play - 8 monologues by 8 angry people. Hell, I can pull off angry. I do it most of the time anyway. At any rate, instead of dismissing it, I said something to the effect of "we'll see".

It came up again today during the Production Meeting for Coyote Woman, then Ian suggested I stop by his place during the break between the end of the meeting and the call for Dingleberries this evening, just to read the piece he had in mind. So I went over, and I read the piece, and I found it really funny - in that bitter way I find alot of things funny these days. But more than that, even on first read of the thing, I was intrgued by this guy. Did he kill the gas station guy? Did he really rape the girl? Was this guy that evil. Or is it, as it seems on the surface, just an angry guy who might be able to sympathise with a crime like that. And then, does that make him bad, for being able to understand and even empathize with someone who could murder another human being?

So I sat there, and read it, and started thinking all these things about this guy, and as I'm writing this now, I'm realizing that this might be that actor instinct coming back, at least in some small portion. Anyway, after I read it, I realized that there was something about it that I could latch onto, something about this guy was familiar, something about him made sense. His arguments weren't repugnant, entirely. He's kinda telling the truth, ugly though it may be. Somewhere in this internal process in my head, I was also conversing with Ian, and I remember him saying to me, "When I first read this piece, you were the first person I thought of for the reading." High praise of sorts coming from Mr. Allen to a non-acting type. I heard myself telling him that I would need a day or so to think it over, but that after this first read, I was leaning on the side of 'yes'.

I came home tonight and read the thing out loud. I'm really out of practice. But I get it. I understand this guy, I think. I don't think he killed the gas station attendant. I don't think he raped the girl. And he's just the right mixture of simpleton, biggot and average-joe-observer that he understands society, his place in it, and the things that affect him adversely (and, the more important thing, I suppose, can identify them, to put a point on it).

Anyway, long-story-long, I emailed Ian this evening and told him that If Dingleberries does not extend to the 17th(the night of the Anger Box reading), I would be interested in being a part of the reading.