Into the woods and out of the woods and home before dark.
My best opportunity lately is pit bands. They're quick in-quick out situations, the pay is low so many hungrier musicians don't want them, and I have more theatre contacts than musical ones. So, if a show has an actual budget (not that I insist on getting paid, but I won't turn it down), I can sometimes find myself in the pit. But again, only once every couple of years.
So, needless to say, when my friend Heather Arzberger was hiring a pit for a high school production of "Into the Woods," I made it known I was more than interested. (It was a chance to play, and it's one of my all-time favorite shows!)
In playing this show, it's significant to me in many ways, though not all in a positive way. The book itself is fairly easy (but that doesn't mean I don't make my share of mistakes) with a LOT of counting, but that's okay. And I love reliving the show over and over -- each time I love it even more.
It is distressing to me, though, that I feel very, very old. The musicians are young, talented, ambitious and young. I know, I listed "young" twice. Twenty years ago, I was them ... just out of Music school with a year or two of teaching under my belt. I knew everyone and everyone knew me. It was a reunion. But now, I see them where I was and I'm just the old guy sitting in the back. On one hand I'm honored that Heather hired me as I'm loving the experience in so many ways. On the other, I know my day has passed and that I'm getting old (I'm only 45, but still ...).
With luck this will be the first of many new gigs to come. I'm trying to be as friendly as possible so if anyone there needs a horn player, they'll think of me. I have "big" coming in August, so that will be another pit opportunity. And, if I'm not to needy, maybe Heather will hire me for next year's show.
I know I could take other opportunities out there, but like I said, life changes and choices don't afford me the time to do such things. But once in a while it's nice to actually play in something other than my basement.

Their production was nice, and the audience loved it. In attendance was the Mayor of Lockhart and most of the City Council. After the performance, the Mayor presented me with a proclamation welcoming me to Lockhart (which was extremely nice!) and then I got to entertain a Q&A. I love doing Q&A's. Usually I'm up there with the cast and the director, but this time I was on my own. And I was good! I was charming, witty, enthusiastic, entertaining ... everything I'm usually not in real life. And why? Because I was in my element.
Wednesday -- 3 days before opening, I get a call from Rene. It appears he has a cyst on his kidney and needs to get it removed. The kidney, that is. His appointment is for February 9th. That means he can't go up on the second weekend.
I received a Christmas card from Ed Feruzza the other day. Ed is an actor whom I've worked with twice -- once he played "Mishkin the Mailman" in Parkside Player's production of "
Here's a photo of me at rehearsal. To the left is Jimmy O'Neill and to the right is Rene Bendana.
There were a few names being batted around, but I had always secretely wished to get Cameron on board. First of all, he's an outstanding actor. Second, he's very enthusiastic about my plays, which always makes ME happy!
Today Miriam and I went to Queens Theatre in the Park to see
After the play I made a point of telling him how much I loved his play and asked how it felt -- sort of "playwright to playwright." He confessed the worry and labor that goes into fitting your play to the stage, which I understood completely. But what struck ME most about the whole thing was that I got to slip into my Playwright hat for a few minutes. Though I wear many hats in my everyday life -- some fitting better than others, and some I don't particularly like very much -- it's the Playwright's hat that is most comfortable, and the one I wear the least. For that afternoon again, even though it was not my day nor my play, I was a Playwright and Ron was a peer.
To the right is a photo of Ed Voyer (left) and myself (right). Ed is one of my best friends. Though Ed and I are almost opposite on many things, it's that difference that actually works for us to the point that the differences have become complimentary. We approach the things that make us different with so much conviction and passion, that it actually fills the gaps the other may have in a supportive way. As a result, we have a high respect for one another. This, of course, is my take on it. Ed's opinion on this matter may be completely different for all I know.