Life Altering Experience

Life Altering Experience

In every person’s life, there’s one moment in which the individual realizes what they want to do for the rest of their life. For some it may be finding the reward in community service and therein devoting the rest of their life to a cause within their neighborhood. My experience came in the spring of 2006: May 26th to be exact.

I had been in a stage production before that date. It had been in the May of 2004. The play had been Way Out West in a Dress. My public school had always done musicals which was a terrible idea. None of us could sing. The play was about two men who inherit a beauty salon, thinking they had inherited a saloon. It was a cute and funny play. As with most Westerns, there’s a bank robbing plot. I played the banker, Bill Holder. Despite having my bank nearly robbed, I had two lines throughout the whole play. Of course, being in sixth grade, I was lucky to even get a part. Most of the girls of my age, had been cast into the lowly chorus.

The following year, after several bouts of fighting between my mother and certain teachers at the public school, I was enrolled in a county wide charter school. Of course, all of the teachers were extremely warm and welcoming, but one in particular had stuck with me. The teacher was one half of the Humanities team at the school. He taught English. A group of students quickly formed a Drama Club, with this teacher as the advisor. Just as quickly as they had formed the club, the students left. This left the club in the hands of a few seventh graders and a few more eighth graders, including myself.

In the year of 2004-2005, the club served as a sort of improvisational game club, like Whose Line is it Anyway. Every now and then we would go over some lines from a play by the name of The Complete History of America (Abridged) by the Reduced Shakespeare Company. It included satirized scenes of many major events in American history.

Eighth grade marked the arrival of more drama members from the seventh grade. Drama club was still more improvisational than dramatic, but by spring we had gotten more into the play that we had practiced the previous year. Before long, parts were assigned and a date was scheduled. I spent most of my after-school hours practicing inside the same auditorium that has housed the performances of Bill Cosby, Gordon Lightfoot, and Craig Ferguson.

May 26th came fast. Many revisions had been made to fit our age group and capabilities. Also, the play had been written for a cast of three, which would not fit our cast of eight. Our fearless leader was an incredible script writer. His revision was as good as the real thing.

In addition to being one of the stars (I define the stars as the ones who stood out most, which would be me and another friend of mine), I had taken on the responsibility of creating the set. The set wasn’t a set in normal terms. The large projection screen in the back of the stage had been rolled down and we projected a PowerPoint presentation to go along with the scene.

I won’t pretend that our journey hadn’t had roadblocks along the way. Many of our props were dug up in the week before our single performance. Some of the props had been omitted completely.

Anyway, I arrived at school on May 26th in my normal school uniform. I stayed after to be present at our dress rehearsal. We had passed on full costumes as this would be a shabbier, but warmer feeling to the play. It’s hard to explain. In costume, you’re someone else. With a wig and maybe some props, you’re still you. The audience can see this. They see you as entertaining rather than the specific character.

The hours leading up to the play had been different for everyone. A middle school couple sat in the back of the stage and comforted each other. The nerves were breaking some of the actors. One loner walked in circles mulling over his lines. Others were frantic and extremely nervous. I, however, was totally cool with it. One of the nervous actors had been confused of how I kept my cool. To this day, I can’t really explain why I don’t get nervous before a performance. Maybe it’s because I love what I do. I’m not trying to please anyone by acting, except for myself. Entertainment is what I thrive in. I’m the most confident in myself on stage.

I could hear the drama teacher finish his introduction, “And now, without further ado…. No, wait, there’s some more ado… yecch… Okay, now without further ado… The Complete History of America (Abridged). The actor that had been walking in circles and rehearsing was granted the first line. He spoke of the beginning of the world. The actor who had questioned my lack of nerves had walked on stage and explained that that was too far back. The American flag appeared on the screen. I entered on stage in a reverse movement shtick.

Soon after, I spoke for a half of page of script, explaining why it was necessary that we educate the masses on our history. Then Scene 2 started, but I kept going. This scene concerned the naming and arrivals in America. I was Amerigo Vespucci. During the scene, I put on my fake Italian accent. I carried a wine bottle around that I had to periodically drink from. I remember demanding that the wine bottle be completely cleaned to remove any trace of alcohol. About a week before, a crew member had filled the bottle with some disgusting peach flavored drink. It was all we had. I was still drinking the same peach liquid a week later. In the middle of the scene, I had to perform a spit take. The peach drink made it an easy feat.

At the end of the scene, one of the seventh graders and I led the rest of the cast into a kind of opening number. It was a parody of God Bless America, entitled God Bless Vespucci-Land. As the actor and I started it off, the rest of the cast moseyed onto stage singing feeling of the spotlight hitting you, and seeing the crowd clapping and laughing launches a devoted actor into a state of drugless ecstasy.

The next scene involved the meaning of the word America. I got a break from the stage. I went backstage and rested. The next scene was an American Indian scene. I rested still. Scene Five marked my return. This scene was truly mine, although I shared the stage with two others. In the scene, I read a poem I wrote about our settlements in America. The poem quickly warps into a rap that pays homage to the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Dire Straits, and John Kerry.

Scene six was also a shining moment of mine. I played Reverend Pat Answer, a reverend during the Salem Witch Trials. I speak of Family Nights that involve arts and crafts such as making nooses and thumbscrews. I also shout out to the parents that they may leave their kids with us so that we can play Hangman and Pin the Blame on the Warlock. Next, “Pat” speaks of a dream he had in which I spoke to the Lord. The Lord asks me what area of the world a natural disaster should be sent to. I offer the suggestions of New Orleans, Indonesia, and the Philippines. In retrospect, I can’t quite understand how I didn’t get the crap beat out of me. Then I ask how Las Vegas would be. The “Lord” replies “What happens in Vegas—stays in Vegas”. The scene rapidly takes a turn to a quick paced Shot Heard Round the World sketch.

The next few scenes are what I like to refer to as “The Great Absence”. I don’t mean great in a good manner, but more in terms of size. I’m absent from the next four scenes. Maybe this was to prepare the audience for scene eleven.

This was a Vaudeville style Lewis and Clark sketch. I consider it my favorite. The other star and I put on a wonderful Vaudeville show as Lewis and Clark. I’m Lewis and he’s Clark. He plays more of the straight man. To one who is unfamiliar with Vaudeville, straightness has nothing to do with sexuality. The straight man is the smart and collected part of a duo. He sets the goof up for all his jokes. Bud Abbott was the straight man to Lou Costello. Zeppo Marx was the straight man for his three other brothers. I was the goof. I had to learn the grapevine step to successfully synchronize myself with the straight man. I am not a man of coordination. It wasn’t easy.

Scene 12 was another scene without me. It involved a “politically correct” version of America the Beautiful. The next scene introduced me to the concept of “bombing”. The scene was supposed to go as follows. It was the Civil War, a pivotal scene to pull off. We were supposed to give an unfunny presentation with a projector. When the projector “blows up”, leaving my hair sticking up, we’re forced to improvise. I wouldn’t say that the actors were to blame. In order to create a successful replacement slideshow, all of the lights were supposed to go down. In between each audio clip of the slideshow, the spotlight would turn on, revealing us in still life acting out the subject of the audio. For example, the audio says “The war was the bloodiest in the history of the nation.” The light comes on to show a fellow actor plunging a fake knife through my head. There was obviously some miscommunication between the light crew and the director. Lights were going on and off at random times and we were left standing on the stage scratching our heads. It could’ve been a great scene. I think it’s better that way though. Now I know how it feels to bomb.

A quick scene proceeded intermission: The Lincoln Assassination. It was a truly offensive sketch in which we popped a balloon with Lincoln’s face drawn on. Near the end, we give some of the crazy conspiracy theories between Kennedy and Lincoln. The audience files back in from intermission. It’s World War One. My two fellow actors in the scene brandish super soakers. I, on the other hand, wield a five inch water pistol. It’s a truly ridiculous scene that takes second place in my favorites.

Scene 16 marked a development in my acting abilities. It was the 1920s done in a radio show format. This meant that we were allowed to use our scripts. I opted not to. Some of the others were too lazy to remember more lines. In Scene 17, I complained, along with the rest of the male cast, about the Great Depression. We go off the wall talking of living out of a shoebox, licking the road clean, eating cold gravel, crawling for fifty miles in broken glass to school, studying quantum physics for twenty hours a day and being split in half with a dull samurai sword by our teacher.

In Scene 18, I play General Hojo in a mystery case about an attack on Miss Pearl Harbor. I drew my inspiration from Christopher Walken. He always tends to give off that crime boss aura. We skipped Scene 20 because a certain actor couldn’t remember all of the lines. It was the Vietnam War scene. I don’t know what was with us and screwing up the pivotal war scenes.

We ended our epic performance with a Q & A session followed by us telling the crowd what we learned. We said our goodbyes and bowed. I heard the intro music to “We Didn’t Start the Fire” turn on, a sound that will forever be ingrained in my mind. Sometimes I feel that I listen to songs for the memories they bring. “We Didn’t Start the Fire” has become a favorite of mine for that reason. “Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray, South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio.”

I saw the crowd standing up and clapping. It’s such a glorious feeling that I would relive over and over if given the choice. I was hearing the names of performers such as Doris Day, Reagan, James Dean, Elvis Presley, and Buddy Holly. I’m standing in the place where Bill Cosby had stood. I’m walking where the great promoter, Pete Bennett would later tread. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m one of them. I feel like a real actor. At that exact moment: “Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac, Sputnik, Chou-en-lai, Bridge on the River Kwai”, I know what I want to spend the rest of my life doing.