Tuesday, July 25, 2017

A Bug Bite That's Lasted 43 Years

43 years ago today, something very exciting happened. It was the opening night of my very first professional show. On July 25, 1974, The Music Man opened at Swift Creek Mill Playhouse. I was playing Amaryliss. I was paid $5.00 per show, and I believe the ticket prices back then were something like $14.50, and that included a delicious buffet dinner AND the show. And who could forget the wonderful loaves of Mill bread and fresh whipped butter, but I digress.
A little back story on what led to this moment. Picture it, Richmond, 1974, I was a 4th grade student at St. Catherine's School for girls playing to packed houses as the wife of the Shoemaker in The Shoemaker and the Elves. This role, of course, was given to me after an unforgettable performance the previous year as the Teeny Weeny Bean in Mr. MacGregor's garden in Peter Rabbit. My drama teacher, Gretchen Buis, told me about a theater that was holding auditions for The Music Man, and they needed a little girl my age. I had to sing a song, and they might have me read a scene. I wanted to do it, but it was my first real audition, and I had no idea what to expect. My sweet Daddy drove me down to Swift Creek Mill Playhouse in Colonial Heights. I don't remember much about the day, but I do remember walking up the steps and into the theater, through the house to the stage. I sang a song that I had sung in my church junior choir called, God Who Touchest Earth with Beauty. I can still see the cover of the anthem. It was olive green with a black peacock on the cover. If you asked me to sing the whole song right now, I could. And, no, Georgi Hicks and Jenna Stickley, I don't remember what I wore (inside joke). Later I read Amaryliss' scene. It called for her to cry. I must have done alright with the scene because I was cast. I didn't really know what it all meant back then. I had no idea what it would lead to. I just knew I liked doing plays. I didn't feel effected by it all. I didn't think I was special. I was just glad to be doing this cool thing. We started with music rehearsals with the late Wayne Batty at the helm as music director. Mr. Batty was, at the very least, intimidating. He looked exactly what you would expect a Maestro to look like with his brushed back, shoulder length hair. Amaryliss has a small duet with Marian, played by the lovely Lynn West, on Goodnight, My Someone. The first time I had to sing it in front of the whole cast. I was a little nervous, but everyone was as sweet as they could be. We went through weeks of music and then staging of the show, and I learned what blocking was and notes and all the things that now seem second nature to me. I had to learn to play this piano piece. I truthfully can't believe I did that, and, no, I couldn't play that now if you asked me. Finally it came time for opening. I obviously was not accustomed to the opening night tradition of dressing up. My family had gone to the circus at the Fairgrounds earlier that day, and I was dusty and ragged when I got to the show. I was wearing navy blue culottes with a red dotted mushroom appliqued on it. Take that, Georgi and Jenna. I wasn't playing Amaryliss on opening night. I alternated nights with another little girl, and she was doing Opening night, something that turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I was playing Amaryliss on the dress rehearsal night that all the promo shots were taken (See photo above). On the nights I wasn't Amaryliss, I was in the ensemble. I loved every minute of being in this show, all 5 months we ran. I made friendships that I still have today, and learned so much from the director, the late Buddy Callahan. I was bitten by the theatre bug back in 1974, and I have been in love with the theatre ever since. I have been lucky enough to consistently act in theatre and film for the last 43 years, and I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. In a little over a month, at 53, I will begin a new career of teaching music and drama to little ones. Maybe they can catch the bug from me, and the joy it has given me will spread through generations. I can only hope.

Friday, July 21, 2017

You Just Couldn't Say Good-bye

It has been almost a month since I had my follow-up to the follow-up MRI to check the status of Mike Wazowski and his residence in my brain. If you follow this blog or you know me, you know that in September of 2015 I was diagnosed with a tumor on my pituitary gland. A tumor that even the neurosurgeon described as HUGE. From the MRI pictures you could see that the tumor was a big round circle with a smaller darker circle inside of it. The smaller circle looked like an eye, so I "lovingly" named the tumor Mike Wazowski. In July of 2016 I found out that after surgery, Mike was still hanging out, at least part of him, and he had brought along a friend, a cyst growing in the exact same place where Mike had been evicted. Surgery number 2 in November 2016, Follow-up MRI in February of 2017, and finally, Follow-up to the follow-up just last month. The good news is the cyst is gone. The other news, I won't call it bad, is that Mike has left a little piece of himself with me. I knew this right after my second surgery. There was a little piece of the tumor attached to a blood vessel in my brain. As I'm sure you can imagine, that's pretty delicate stuff. The neurosurgeon couldn't just go ripping things off of a blood vessel, and so Mini Mike was allowed to stay with the understanding that his blood supply would be cut off, and he would be getting a weekly dose of Cabergoline, a drug that inhibits his growth. Just last week I saw my neurosurgeon to find out how Mini Mike was dealing with these terms. Here's the good news about the "not bad" news. Mini Mike hasn't invited anyone else in, and he hasn't gotten any bigger. He's just staying right where he was, away from my optic nerves and anything else that might cause me trouble. Dr. Sahni, my neurosurgeon, and I decided to just let Mini Mike stay, and, for now, we would extend his conditional lease for another 6 months. Did I want him to move out totally? Absolutely, but I guess he just couldn't say Good-bye, and, for now, I'll indulge him as long as he goes by the rules.

We'll Never Get to Heaven Till We Reach That Day

 I first saw the musical, Ragtime, several years ago at the Dogwood Dell Festival of the Arts. Both my girls were still in elementary school...