Saturday, June 30, 2012

Arsenic and Old Lace

We used to have this old lady
Who’d come to the first preview of every show
And accost all the actors afterwards
Telling them what a bad job they were doing
And how she couldn’t believe she wasted her money
On the crap she’d just witnessed

I should probably mention
That the first preview of any show
At the theater
Was always pay-what-you-can
And she always gave us a penny
So now you can feel free
To generate an opinion about her

One of our nicknames for her
Was Penny Pincher

I can’t say the other nicknames
Without making some of you blush
So I’ll abstain

She especially hated me

We were doing Arsenic and Old Lace
In the winter of 1979
And after the first preview
I could see her waddling towards me
In the theater lobby
So I started pushing through the crowd
To avoid her

I don’t know how an able-bodied young man
And a weather-beaten old hag
Seemed to maneuver a crowd
At exactly the same pace
But somehow she still wound up getting outside
At the exact same time I did

But before she could say anything
She stepped on a patch of ice
Right in front of the theater

I saw her legs kick out from under her
And down she went
Like a pile of bones and skin

Coincidentally, Pile of Bones and Skin
Is one of the other nicknames we had for her at the theater

The whole time she was on the ground waiting for the ambulance
She was holding onto the leg of my pants
So I couldn’t move

I thought about kicking her arm away
And making a run for it
But there were too many witnesses

When the ambulance finally got there
She told them I was her son
And could I ride in the back with her

They said sure and—What was I going to say?

No?

If you’re thinking the fall
Exposed her truer, kinder self
You’re wrong

On the way to the hospital
She told me how much she hated the show
And how it was the worst thing she’d ever seen me do
And why didn’t I just give up acting
And become one of those guys who checks the meters?

I asked her why she keeps coming to the theater
If she hates what we do so much

She told me her husband used to drag her there
Against her wishes
And when he died
She kept going
Because it was something they always did together

When we got to the hospital
I made sure she got a room
And then I wished her luck
And we exchanged a surprisingly pleasant good-bye

‘Will I see you at the next preview,’ I asked

‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘Maybe I’ll just get lucky and drop dead before then.’

I looked right at her and said—‘God willing’

Betrayal

We started out the sixteenth season
By sending one of our shows
To London

The Artistic Director thought
It would give us some legitimacy
As a company
To go international

The last Artistic Director had taken a show to New York
So of course, this one had to do one better

I’d never been on a plane in my life
So I was apprehensive
But we were doing this fantastic production of Betrayal
And I wasn’t about to hand my part over
To another actress

So I got smashed at the airport bar
Stashed a joint in my pocketbook just in case
And got on the plane

London was fabulous

There’s something so thrilling
About being an American in a foreign country

Probably because everybody thinks so little of us
That when you act like an idiot
They just nod at you
As if to say—

‘Yes, that’s about what we were expecting from you fast food eating hicks’

While we were in London
I met a man
Another actor
This blonde-haired, fair-skinned British actor
With a perfect, crisp
Clipped accent

He could have read the tag on a mattress
And made it sound sexy

And on a few occasions
I believe he did
Probably because it was the only reading material available

It was quite an affair

The show ran for a few weeks
And on the last day
I decided I was staying in London

I had no urge to go back to America
Just to be some poor single woman
Who doesn’t know what it’s like to have a man shout out a line from Henry V
While he’s making love to you

When I went to his apartment
To tell him the good news
I used the key under the mat
To let myself in
And that’s where I found him

In bed

With someone else

A male someone else

Insert joke here about gay men and British men
And how I couldn’t tell the difference

Go ahead, laugh
Everybody else did
When they found out

I went back home
And never got on a plane again

And I never dated or trusted another actor
As long as I lived

The thing is, you can never really tell
When they’re acting
And when they’re not

Hell, I think sometimes
Even they don’t know

I’ll say this for that whole experience

The show was wonderful
The weather was nice
And if I learned one thing
It’s that gay men are the best lovers

God, isn’t life cruel?

Buried Child

The last show of our fifteenth season
Was Buried Child
And the show turned out sort of lousy
Because halfway through the rehearsal process
Beau’s son showed up
Wanting to be an actor

He was fifteen
And crazier than his mother and father combined

I guess he’d dropped out of school
And ran away from his mother in New York
To come live with Beau
Although Big Daddy wasn’t having it
Not any of it

He was perfectly happy sending the kid a birthday card
Once a year

Girls out there
Let me give you a piece of advice:

Artists do not make good fathers
And they breed other artists

They multiply
Like gremlins

Always remember that

Beau had no choice but to let the kid stay
Tennessee’s mother didn’t want him back
Until he’d straightened out a little bit
And she thought it was time for Beau
To start acting like a dad

So Beau gave his son odd jobs to do around the theater
‘But,’ he said, ‘Under no circumstances are you going to act’

He said acting was for egomaniacs
And childhood trauma victims
And that was it

I felt like telling him
That some of us are just in it
For the cocaine and the orgies
But I kept my mouth shut

Beau had been pretty relaxed that season
But having his son around
Just brought out all his old habits

The bad temper, the nastiness

Beau and Tennessee fought like cats and dogs
The whole rehearsal process
And on the opening night of the show
Beau said something nasty to the kid
At the after party
And the next thing we knew
Tennessee was throwing glasses
Right at Beau’s head

The men all grabbed Tennessee
And the women all sheltered Beau
Which is pretty indicative
Of what was wrong with that company
If you ask me

‘Jesus Beau,’ I said, ‘What did you say to the poor kid?’

Beau looked right at me
And with no shame said—

‘I told him he doesn’t belong here.’

Can you imagine saying to your son
That he doesn’t belong in the one place
You feel more at home
Than anywhere else on earth?

That man could be a real bastard
And I mean that

The kid’s mom came and picked him up
And because Beth and I always got along
I went to Beau’s house with her
And helped her and her son
Pack up his things

At one point, Ten sat down on his bed
And burst into tears
And if you know fifteen-year-old boys
You know it takes a lot to get them to cry

‘I hope the whole damn place burns down,’ he said, ‘That’s how much I hate him.’

Beth sat down on one side of him
And I sat down on the other
And we tried to pull him together enough
To get him back to the car
So Beth could take him back
To New York

The next day when I went to the theater
Beau asked me how everything I went

I could tell he was a little ashamed about what happened
But he didn’t want to show it

I said, ‘Beau, I’m going to tell you a story
And that’s going to be me saying my peace’

I told him that my dad was the best lawyer
In all of St. Louis
When I was growing up
But he was one miserable father

I told Beau that he’d been dead for years
And that there was a good chance
Nobody remembers what a great lawyer he was
But I’d go to my grave remembering
How bad he was at being my dad

‘Remember that,’ I said, ‘The next time you choose this theater over your son’

And that was my peace

Oh, don’t get any ideas
He didn’t listen to a word I said
But at least I said it

Maybe Beau did a lot for this theater
But he didn’t do shit for his son

A lot of us sacrificed things for this place
Friends, time, our sanities, our health

But Beau sacrificed his son
And knowing that—

It makes me wish the whole place had just burned the ground
A long time ago

I can’t help it
It’s just how I feel

The Royal Family

The thing about it is
Everybody in my family acts

Everybody

You know that play The Royal Family?
We’re like that

If you don’t know that play, read it
It’s a great play

They did it at the Orpheus Theater in 1978
Right around the time
I auditioned
To be in the acting company

My mother and father were bought in it at the time
And when I turned twenty-two
And finished college
They decided the time had come
To bring me before Beau, the Great Artistic Director

All throughout college I’d done shows
Even though, to be honest
It really wasn’t my thing

It wasn’t that I wasn’t any good
I mean, I’m not saying I was great
But I wasn’t awful
I just…didn’t care for it very much

But I wanted to make my parents happy
And all my theater friends kept telling me—

‘You’re so lucky to have parents who WANT you to do this!  Our parents want us to become doctors or lawyers.’

I wanted to be a veterinarian
But I didn’t tell them that
Or my parents

I went to audition for the company
On a Tuesday morning
On the set of The Royal Family
Because apparently Beau always liked having people audition
Right up on the stage
To see how they looked up there

I was already a nervous wreck
And to make matters worse
He let my parents sit in the back row and watch the whole thing

I think it was his way of letting them know
That this was a done deal

As long as I could speak
I was getting in

So I did my classical monologue
It went really well
And then I started my contemporary piece
When he yelled—Stop!

I was terrified

He walked right through up the audience
Up onstage
And with his back to my parents
Whispered to me—

‘You’re incredible’

And a little part of me died

I didn’t want to do this

And then he said—

‘You don’t want to do this, do you?’

It was a good thing my parents couldn’t see me
Because I was…

I felt so bad, you know?

It was their dream
This, for me
But…

Beau put his hands on my shoulders
Closed his eyes
And said—

‘I can feel your energy.  I can feel that this would kill your soul.’

He had a sort of patchouli Woodstock thing going on
But I ended up marrying a biker named Razor
So what do I know?

He gave me a little wink
Then he turned around
And said to my parents—

‘She’s terrible.  Send her to med school.’

They were, you know, upset
But, believe it or not
They took Beau’s word for it

They had a lot of respect for him
And after that, so did I

Maybe it was just easier for him to see how unhappy I was
Up there on that stage
Than it was for my parents
Who never wanted to be anywhere else

Anyway I went back to school
Became a vet
Met my biker, married him
And lived happily ever after
Nowhere near a theater

But my daughter did come home the other day
To inform me that she would be playing the lead role
Of Thumbelina
In her school play

I guess it skips a generation

The Iceman Cometh

When Beth decided to stay in New York
To pursue better things
Than our little acting company
The Board went nuts
Trying to find a new Artistic Director
Before the start of the fifteenth season

A lot of people were upset about Beth leaving
But I was just fine with it

One less bitch in the kennel
In my opinion

But even I had to admit I was stunned
When the Board told us
Who they hired
To be the new AD

They were bringing Beau back

He’d been gone for four years
And I can’t say many people missed him

He had trouble getting along with everyone
Probably because he was a sociopath
Poor thing

I guess Beau had called when he found out Beth was leaving
And the Board needed somebody so bad
They couldn’t turn him down
So they let him come back
And warned him that if he acted up
They’d send him packing again

I always thought Beau would be too proud
To step foot in that theater again
But then again, he founded the place
So maybe he felt like he had some responsibility to it

It was the only thing he ever showed any kind of loyalty to

Anyway, I will say he came back a new man
And his first show was The Iceman Cometh
Which is no walk in the park

He said he had this new calm
From seeing this spiritual advisor
That was really big in the late 70’s

Suddenly everything was about energies
And feelings
Chakras and chanting

Like the time I spent on that commune
Without all the potatoes
And the hairless goats

Remind me to tell you about that
Some other time

Not everybody liked the new Beau
I know I didn’t

I missed the crazy, screaming, manipulative
Emotionally abusive asshole

His old work was solid
It had a, you know, punch to it
It hit you
Sometimes he did too

Kidding, kidding

Sortakindanotreally

At the cast party for Iceman
A bunch of us brought our families
Since Beau hadn’t seen any of them in awhile

He was all laughter and tears
Shaking hands, kissing babies

Hugged my husband
Like they were brothers
And then looked right at my son
And said—Well, isn’t he cute?

I felt like saying—

‘Yeah, but he’s a real pain in the ass
Just like his Daddy;

But I didn’t

You see, the thing about it is
When you leave somewhere
You leave things behind
Whether you like it or not

As far as I was concerned
Beau was dead
And this new hippy dippy dump truck in front of me
Was just a poor facsimile

Not a man
Not an artist
And certainly not the father of my child

So I just kept my mouth shut
And told him how glad I was
He was back

I think he believed me too
Just goes to show you
What a good actress I am

Friday, June 29, 2012

The Homecoming


When we took The Homecoming to New York
I think of most of us thought
We weren’t coming back

The show was going to play off-Broadway
But people were already saying
Broadway, this is a revelation
Really laying it on us
Hell, a film producer even came by
To talk about, you know, future projects
Or whatever

Either way, we all thought after that
We were going to be New York actors
No more of this small town stuff

And so we went to New York
With a lot of fanfare
And our little production
And, uh, well, it did okay

Got a good write-up

I still have that copy of the New York Times
That mentions my name
And what a good job I did

We did our run
And…that was that

The Broadway talk had been premature, I guess
Although we did bring it to Chicago
For a limited run there
And that was nice

Then we came home

And that was, uh…

Well, it was difficult

Because we thought—

Well, I don’t want to speak for everyone
But, I thought…

I thought that was it

That we had really broken through, you know?

So many people
Making so many promises

And I was stupid
Because I was old enough at the time
To know that you can’t let your head
Get big on promises
But, I…

Damn, you know?

Just damn

One of us stayed, actually

Beth, our fearless leader
Our Artistic Director
She…

She got offered another job out there
And she took it

She left the Orpheus Theater
And the acting company
And I can’t say I blame her

She had a kid
And things at the theater were always rough for her
Always had the good old boys
And the Jesus kooks
Breathing down her neck

Must have been nice
To finally be appreciated
And to move up, you know?

Up

But it was so…unceremonious

We couldn’t even give her a party or anything
Because the Board was so pissed
That she’d take off like that
Without any warning

The actors were upset too
They felt like she deserted them

I guess I sort of felt that way too

And, of course, we were all insanely jealous
But that’s normal

I think we all thought—

What now?

You know?

What now?

You Can't Take It With You

So the Orpheus is celebrating
It’s big ten year anniversary
And they’re opening their season
With You Can’t Take It With You

So I’m all excited
Because I’ve never acted there
Just did community stuff
But I know that show
And it’s all about this loud crazy family
With a mother who butts into everybody’s business

So I’m thinking—this is my moment

I go
I audition
They say thank you
I get sent home

And they never called me
Or cast me

Può asini pisciare sulla loro tomba.

May donkeys piss on their graves.

Grave or graves?
Did I say that right?

Eh, who the hell cares?

A month later I go to see the show
And they got all these professional actors in it
Talking all quiet
I felt like I was watching a Charlie Chapstick movie

You could tell not a single actor on that stage
Was Italian

I’m going—Why did they waste their money
Trying to get quiet people to be loud
When they could have just hired loud people
In the first place

You get what I’m saying?

That’s theater for you

Putting a monkey up onstage
And telling him to act like a cow
Instead of just getting a friggin’ cow

Me, I ended up doing voice-overs
For nature documentaries

…Hahaha yeah right

With this voice?

Nah, I played Fran Drescher’s mother
In a tv movie

Did better than any of those quiet people
I’ll tell you that much

Theater
Good theater
Is for loud people

You gotta be LOUD!

There, take that advice with you

That’s worth the price of the ticket
Right there

Awake and Sing!


My mother feared
Exactly two things:

That I would get married
And that I would become an actress

I did both before I was nineteen

Some good advice?

Don’t tell your kids what you’re afraid of
Because they’ll do it

Whether they mean to or not

I didn’t mean to get married
And I really didn’t mean to become an actress
But both just sort of happened

When the Orpheus Theater sent one of their shows to New York
There was a big gap in the acting company
So they had to hire some local people

I went and auditioned for their production of Awake and Sing!
And I got in, and so did this woman
That would end up becoming my wife

I knew a writer once
Who called what I just did
The Drop

Casually mention something shocking
Drop it
And pretend like it’s not a big deal

Maybe it isn’t a big deal anymore
But it was when I was alive
And it certainly was when I met the love of my life
Even though it was 1977

I was her understudy
Isn’t that funny?

It was my job to be there
In case anything happened to her
And that really never stopped being my job

She was what my mother would call a handful
Always running around
Always coming back to me
After she’d made a mess
Or led on some boy
Or ticked off one of the other actors

Halfway through the production
She got kicked out of the show
For doing…uh, well
For doing thing she shouldn’t have been doing backstage

They kicked her out of the theater
And she screamed and kicked
And they had to call security
And it was a big mess

And so I went on
But I was terrible
Because the whole time
I was worried about her
Out there on the streets
Angry and hurt

When the show was over
I went right to her apartment
And found her sitting outside her door
Crying, because she couldn’t find her keys

They were in the pocket
She didn’t usually put them in

That’s how out of it she was

After that, I stopped doing theater
But I kept making it possible for her to do it

I kept her straight, so to speak
And she…

Well, she kept me alive

Even though some people might say
It was the other way around

I felt like I was living when I was with her

I was just a girl from a poor house
With nothing holding it together
But a lot of love

And so I tried to give that to her
That love that feels like glue

And most of the time it worked
And some of the time it didn’t

But we still had a good run
A good long run

They even let her back onstage again
And she acted at the Orpheus
Until the late eighties

What I like to call
The Era of Consequences

Oh well…

That’s all history now

You know, if I’m being honest
I’d have to say it wasn’t all me that held her together

The theater had a hand in it too
Maybe even moreso than I did

Who can say?

Who can say anything right?

Who has time to think about all the things
That can’t be changed

A Touch of the Poet


A Touch of the Poet opened the Orpheus Theater’s fourteenth season
The season we got our New York offer

I was in the opener
And two weeks later
The Homecoming opened downstairs

Our show was supposed to be the big hit
And Homecoming was just this little side project
But it…

Well, it exploded

The show got raves
The sold out the entire run
It extended
It sold out the extension

Craziness

And upstairs we were doing our show
And it was…

It might as well not have happened

The downstairs show had critics come
Then outside critics
Which is always unusual

People from out of town came to see it
And there was talk of it having further life

In Chicago
In Minneapolis

The words ‘New York’ were on everybody’s lips
But we were superstitious
We didn’t want to jinx it

I keep saying ‘We’
Because I was a part of the company
And so I should have been thrilled
But I—and many of us
Pretty much anybody
That wasn’t in The Homecoming
--Felt left out

Like, what about us?

What were we supposed to do?

Then it came
The New York offer
An Orpheus Theater production
Was going to off-Broadway
And who knew what would happen from there?

It was a nice acknowledgement
Of our Artistic Director’s hard work
Especially after the theater and Beth
Had come under fire
For being too risqué

Suddenly there was vindication

So we all should have been thrilled but…

The thing is, there’s only so much success to go around
In the artistic world

So when you see people close to you
Achieve a certain level of it
You feel…

Like there it goes

There goes my success

I left the ‘Congratulations You’re All Going to New York’ party early
And went to sit in the lobby

Beth found me out there
And sat next to me

She was a little drunk
But she was smiling
Which was nice

I hadn’t seen her smile in a long time

‘You know this is good for all of us, right?’ she asked me

And I said, ‘Sure, Beth.  I know’

She patted my knee
And said—

‘We’re all in this together’

And I believed her
I really did

But another part of me thought
I missed it

I missed my chance

Beth didn’t, but…

No matter how successful you are
You’re still human

You still only have two hands
So you can only hold so many people in them, you know?

And some people…

You just have to let go