There are a few things in life I can count on. My husband will invite me out for a lovely dinner the night before I weigh in at Weight Watchers (and I never say no). A week before I am scheduled to go on a wonderful vacation I will realize how much work is involved in getting ready and I will decide it's not worth the effort and begin to dread the whole process (but I go anyway and have a wonderful time). And when I get cast as a lead in a play I will absolutely convince myself that THIS time my brain is just too old to learn that many lines and I'm going to freeze on stage and ruin everything. It hasn't happened...yet...but this time I've got an interesting situation. I've been cast as the lead in a wonderful play which started rehearsals tonight. But the play I'm already involved in is opening on Saturday night and running for three weekends. So that's two sets of lines that will be running around in my head at the same time. I don't know about this one.
They say that after a certain age it's good to do crossword puzzles and whatever you call that number thingie they print in the paper on the comics page. This is a good alternative, and certainly challenging, but I could go into full-blown panic mode without traveling very far. Then I remember what it's like to hear laughter, or to make an audience weep. I remember the camaraderie of putting on a production and the thrill of taking a bow at the curtain call. And at 62 I will get my first theatrical kiss. I will confess that at the read-through I reacted like a high school freshman at that news, all giggles and bad jokes.
Still, what a delicious dilemma. I'm still in demand. At least this time. It's been a long while since I've gotten the "We'd like to offer you the part" phone call instead of the "We decided to go in another direction, but we LOVED your audition!" e-mail, and my ego is purring like a kitten. In between panic attacks.
They say that after a certain age it's good to do crossword puzzles and whatever you call that number thingie they print in the paper on the comics page. This is a good alternative, and certainly challenging, but I could go into full-blown panic mode without traveling very far. Then I remember what it's like to hear laughter, or to make an audience weep. I remember the camaraderie of putting on a production and the thrill of taking a bow at the curtain call. And at 62 I will get my first theatrical kiss. I will confess that at the read-through I reacted like a high school freshman at that news, all giggles and bad jokes.
Still, what a delicious dilemma. I'm still in demand. At least this time. It's been a long while since I've gotten the "We'd like to offer you the part" phone call instead of the "We decided to go in another direction, but we LOVED your audition!" e-mail, and my ego is purring like a kitten. In between panic attacks.
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