So, says the storyteller, sitting in a chair on the back porch, a gin gimlet in his hand, did I ever tell you about the time I was in a play?
It was 1992. I was six, and in first grade. I had been tapped to perform in Oakview Elementary's Thanksgiving play. And get this: for some mysterious reason, I was picked to play an Indian.
This wasn't the most politically correct play, either. In the early 90s, political correctness hadn't evolved beyond an amorphous invertebrate thrashing its way around a primordial soup of bull-squeeze. Be it otherwise, the ACLU would've been on this play like white on rice. I don't remember much of it, unfortunately. I don't think I had any lines. My memory of the affair is almost completely gone. Most of what I know I gleaned from the videotape.
Yes, Mom rented a camcorder and taped the whole affair. Of course. I can't hardly stand to watch it, even now. It mostly consists of me, my costars and I, wearing brightly colored headbands with feathers stuck in them, dancing around in a circle in front of 300 people, kicking our legs up, flailing our hands around, and singing in little-kid voices. "Hiya, hiya ah hiya hi-ya-ya-ya Hiya, hiya ah hiya hi-ya-ya-ya!"
You honestly can't blame me for mentally suppressing this, can you?
I didn't win an Academy Award for my performance. Before and after the big dance number, my costars and I just sat around looking complacent, grinning like woodchucks and waving to our mothers. I highly doubt that Squanto would've recognized us. Even the Pilgrims would've laughed themselves sick. If there were any history teachers in the audience, I didn't see 'em. They probably excused themselves before the intermission.
That's the only play I've ever been in. I have since become afflicted with chronic stage-fright, which still hasn't wholly deserted me. Class presentations scared me stiff; standing in front of more than three people was torture; I died a thousand deaths before every piano recital. The only thing that didn't scare me was reading aloud. That's because I knew I did it a million times better than anybody else in class. It's called "inflection," people. You may have heard of it.
Since I've tagged this post with a "humor" label, I shall leave you with a joke. I went over to my buddy John's house one afternoon a while ago. His father was busy doing some landscaping. John objected to this. Why? John's father had removed a bush from the side of the driveway. John claimed that this bush provided him with a landmark vital to the act of reversing his car out of the driveway. John's father was nonplussed.
"You know," he said, "they have these things called mirrors."
"Yeah," I agreed, "you might wanna look into 'em."
Next up: a long-overdue book review. Stay tuned.
11 comments:
I love it. Where are the pics, huh? I bet your mom has some somewhere.
I had two big performances in elementary school. The first was in first grade, and we did Sleeping Beauty. I actually got to BE Sleeping Beauty, which really pissed off my best friend, Corinne, because she had to be a thorn growing on the castle. I had to kiss my crush, Philip Grove. We got engaged that year, but broke it off before the wedding.
My other big role was in The Pied Piper of Hamlin in 5th grade. All the other kids in the play were in 6th. I was one of the town councilors, and had to carry this huge yellow "book" around and pretend to read laws out of it. I also had to sing this song that went, "You gotta practice dece-he-heption, it's the campaigner's too-hoo-ool; you gotta practice deception, it's the politician's golden rule."
Hmm. Maybe this is why I've always had an aversion to politics.
Incidentally, I got married in 1992.
I've never had to act in a school play. I took one semester of drama and somehow ended up on the set crew. Like, that was any better. Nothing artsy about me - even wielding brush with paint by numbers.
Love your debut story though.
I'm taking your Joumbaba recipe out with me tonight. I'll buy one for the girls, and may even take a sip - though I can't imagine liking either tequila or grapefruit juice. I'll let them be the judge of your concoction.
........dhole
Polly: Yes, she probably does have pics somewhere. The thought terrifies me. You know she's going to whip them out when I bring my fiance home.
Cool! You got to be Sleeping Beauty?? I could see that, totally. And your best friend had to be a thorn on the wall. Poetic, that. And you got to kiss your crush! The most I ever got from mine was a slow dance at prom.
The Pied Piper of Hamlin? Not run across that one. But oh boy, what I would've given to be in the audience to hear you sing "You gotta practice dece-he-heption..." Awesome. I dislike politics myself, y'know. Despite appearances.
Okay, let's see now. I was born in 1986. You graduated college in 1986, right? Or was that somebody else I'm thinking of? And I was in a school play in '92, and you got married in '92. Is there anything ELSE we didn't do in the same year?
DH: Set crew? Now, come on, surely it wasn't ALL painting by numbers. Weren't there any sets to design? Lighting to rig up? I would've thought you'd be good at it; not being artsy, per se, but creative. Constructive.
Sweet! Let me know what the girls think of the ol' joumbaba, please.
I bet it was a good performance. We are often too critical of ourselves.
I participated in a few school productions, and spent time with an Am Dram group as well.
Actually, this morning I was supposed to go along to an audition for a local stage show...but I slept in! Oops.
I never made it onto a stage in any meaningful way. But I loved your story all the same. :)
You really don't know the Pied Piper? That's where the expression "follow the piper" comes from. Google it, dude, immediately.
It was high school that I graduated in 1986. I didn't graduate from college until 1999. Let's see what else - my kids were born in 1991, 1993, 1997, and 2007. Any of those years significant for you? It's funny that they were all born in odd years.
Star Child: Sleep is important, too. Which school productions did you participate in? Anything I'd know?
sarahjayne: You've still got time to try, if you so desire. Thanks for stopping in.
Polly: Oh, of course I know the Pied Piper! But I didn't know he was from Hamlin originally. I always get him confused with St. Patrick. Rats, snakes, what's the difference?
I wish you had posted some video clips. I would pay $5 (more or less) to see them.
I have always HATED speaking in front of my class; I go a cheerfully bright cherry red, but I kind of like performing on stage... there is something about the lights in your eyes so you can't see anyone, but you can feel them looking at you, and having people hang onto your every word/movement. Probably the result of being in choir/drama/ballet and being forced by my grade 6 teacher to enter a district wide speech contest, where I unwillingly fumbled my way through something about Harriet Tubman and the importance of courage.
Secretly, I think I am in love with being the centre of attention.
I must say Postman, that your rendition of the Tiger poem in Brit Lit AP was a nice piece of "performance" in front of the class. Then again, that's probably because you were reading and you are correct, inflection makes a huge difference
I was in some kind of play in fifth grade, but all I remember was the green tights and pointy shoes, and that doesn't narrow it down too much. I do remember that Steve Collins forgot his lines and someone farted. I can't remember a darn thing that happened in 1986, even though I was there the whole time.
There's a theme to this comment, but I don't remember what it is.
Jane: A speech on Harriet Tubman? Man, I'd have been lucky to even fumble my way through that.
I think we like being the center of attention, but ON OUR OWN TERMS. That's the key. Playing piano just to show my parents that my instructor was worth the money they were paying him doesn't really count.
Lee: I knew I was screwed. So I decided to have fun with it.
Murrmurrs: Here's the point. You have an excellent head for details, but not so much for inane youth performance. Understandable.
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