Thursday
Aug192010
Show Biz Up Close
Thursday, August 19, 2010 at 11:49AM
I am in a farce and I am always the same character. I am vain, irrational, venal and immature. I spout lines without bothering to find sub-text. I jump into situations oblivious to consequences. I want to be in a comedy, while others demand melodrama. Cross-purposes abound, and I'm flummoxed; that's the way it goes all the days of my life.
For three weeks, though, I was exempt from my own persona; I slowly took on another. I was still in a farce, but not of my own making. This new play, had four characters, and had been penned by Greg Edwards. He called it "Diplomatic Relations." It was part of a one-act festival, all entries meeting the same requirement, to be no longer than thirty minutes in length. Each night, at the end of the evening, the audience could vote, foretelling which play would be permitted to go up again.
My part was Mayor Veena Geraldine Hinckle, of Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, circa 1967. I just had an embassy built, dedicated to Portikrania. All the newspapers had written about it. Tonight was its grand opening. Though I made up the country, my intentions were pure. The coalmines had closed. There was high unemployment. An embassy was what Wilkes Barre needed to jump-start its economy. Tourists would flock to the city spending money on shows, shopping and dining.
I was delusional. My daughter knew it. I believed in my reveries. I calmed her jitters with, “Lots of countries don’t exist. That hasn’t stopped Tibet.” Besides, I wanted to be re-elected.
A young architect, from a Mafia Family, had built the Embassy. He had an honest streak. He could not find Portikrania anywhere on any map. That bothered him. I told him not to worry, that it was, "West of the Afzak Republic. Just below North Portikrania.”
There was also an Inspector in town. He was from the State Department. He was suspicious. There was no record of Portikrania anywhere. His plan was to shut the Embassy down and arrest me. That would not happen on my watch, even if I had to use all my feminine wiles.
I was also in a competitive mode. I wanted to best Nanticoke, our rival city across the Susquehanna River. Their economy was thriving. They had created a recipe for French Toast. Citizens from around the world were clamoring for slices. They had, to fulfill this need, created a mail-order business. It was booming.
In preparation for my role, I became Mayor Veena Geraldine Hinckle the three weeks we rehearsed. I had to compensate for the fact the full cast rarely met. I was there, with the director, but often with just one other cast member.
The Mayor was married, so I donned my mother’s wedding band. She was vain, so I had my nails polished in orange. I bought a hairbrush and hair spray, taming my tresses, no longer with my fingers. I also bought a dress. My first since 1996. I knew the Mayor always wore them.
I cleaned my apartment. The Mayor’s house was in order. Her supporters were always over. She could not afford a mess. She also supplied them with food and drink. I went shopping.
"Diplomatic Relations" opened August 12. We were one of three one acts to go up at 9 PM. We started at 9:30. You were eligible to vote only if you saw all the shows in your evening.
My friends greeted me when I came outside. Harry was certain he had a blood clot in his left leg from sitting so long. He regretted that the nearby hospital, St. Clare's, had closed. He would be there now. Priscilla told me I was in profile a lot, and I upstaged myself, disappearing behind other actors. Sometimes she could not even hear me. Jerome said the dress I wore made me look like a pencil. Peter said I did not come in fast enough for some cues. Lucy suggested I use large hand gestures to connote my importance. Fred said the piece was a play, with a beginning, middle and end.
We were chosen to perform Monday, August 16, starting at 9:30 again. We were now the second show out of four. We had high energy, fast pacing and we were loud. Still, five audience members left when we finished, friends of one our cast members. They had to be at work early, and consequently they could not vote. My friends stayed. Stephan said he heard my every word. Linda said she laughed a lot. The playwright said, “You translated my writing into farce."
We lost to the fourth show. That was about prostitution, drug addiction, child rearing, lost romance and indigence. Their supporters stayed until the end. They voted. I went home.
I washed my hair, removed my nail polish, my wedding band, my dress, poured a shot of scotch and ate some cheerios. I wanted to feel a buzz, while keeping my cholesterol in check. I knew it had to have gone up. I mean, a show had won that did not have one laugh.
I fell asleep smiling. I knew I would have lots of laughs tomorrow.
For three weeks, though, I was exempt from my own persona; I slowly took on another. I was still in a farce, but not of my own making. This new play, had four characters, and had been penned by Greg Edwards. He called it "Diplomatic Relations." It was part of a one-act festival, all entries meeting the same requirement, to be no longer than thirty minutes in length. Each night, at the end of the evening, the audience could vote, foretelling which play would be permitted to go up again.
My part was Mayor Veena Geraldine Hinckle, of Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, circa 1967. I just had an embassy built, dedicated to Portikrania. All the newspapers had written about it. Tonight was its grand opening. Though I made up the country, my intentions were pure. The coalmines had closed. There was high unemployment. An embassy was what Wilkes Barre needed to jump-start its economy. Tourists would flock to the city spending money on shows, shopping and dining.
I was delusional. My daughter knew it. I believed in my reveries. I calmed her jitters with, “Lots of countries don’t exist. That hasn’t stopped Tibet.” Besides, I wanted to be re-elected.
A young architect, from a Mafia Family, had built the Embassy. He had an honest streak. He could not find Portikrania anywhere on any map. That bothered him. I told him not to worry, that it was, "West of the Afzak Republic. Just below North Portikrania.”
There was also an Inspector in town. He was from the State Department. He was suspicious. There was no record of Portikrania anywhere. His plan was to shut the Embassy down and arrest me. That would not happen on my watch, even if I had to use all my feminine wiles.
I was also in a competitive mode. I wanted to best Nanticoke, our rival city across the Susquehanna River. Their economy was thriving. They had created a recipe for French Toast. Citizens from around the world were clamoring for slices. They had, to fulfill this need, created a mail-order business. It was booming.
In preparation for my role, I became Mayor Veena Geraldine Hinckle the three weeks we rehearsed. I had to compensate for the fact the full cast rarely met. I was there, with the director, but often with just one other cast member.
The Mayor was married, so I donned my mother’s wedding band. She was vain, so I had my nails polished in orange. I bought a hairbrush and hair spray, taming my tresses, no longer with my fingers. I also bought a dress. My first since 1996. I knew the Mayor always wore them.
I cleaned my apartment. The Mayor’s house was in order. Her supporters were always over. She could not afford a mess. She also supplied them with food and drink. I went shopping.
"Diplomatic Relations" opened August 12. We were one of three one acts to go up at 9 PM. We started at 9:30. You were eligible to vote only if you saw all the shows in your evening.
My friends greeted me when I came outside. Harry was certain he had a blood clot in his left leg from sitting so long. He regretted that the nearby hospital, St. Clare's, had closed. He would be there now. Priscilla told me I was in profile a lot, and I upstaged myself, disappearing behind other actors. Sometimes she could not even hear me. Jerome said the dress I wore made me look like a pencil. Peter said I did not come in fast enough for some cues. Lucy suggested I use large hand gestures to connote my importance. Fred said the piece was a play, with a beginning, middle and end.
We were chosen to perform Monday, August 16, starting at 9:30 again. We were now the second show out of four. We had high energy, fast pacing and we were loud. Still, five audience members left when we finished, friends of one our cast members. They had to be at work early, and consequently they could not vote. My friends stayed. Stephan said he heard my every word. Linda said she laughed a lot. The playwright said, “You translated my writing into farce."
We lost to the fourth show. That was about prostitution, drug addiction, child rearing, lost romance and indigence. Their supporters stayed until the end. They voted. I went home.
I washed my hair, removed my nail polish, my wedding band, my dress, poured a shot of scotch and ate some cheerios. I wanted to feel a buzz, while keeping my cholesterol in check. I knew it had to have gone up. I mean, a show had won that did not have one laugh.
I fell asleep smiling. I knew I would have lots of laughs tomorrow.
Reader Comments (14)
As a Wilkes-Barre area native I wish I could have been there. I would have stayed to the end...and voted for the show to go on!
I wished I could have been there to vote for you as I know you were the best! You are extraordinary at everything you do and I believe I will see you name in lights one day! Until next time.
I agree with Judy and Jim. I would have stayed and I would have voted for you. You are the best....whether it be on stage, giving a tour, or just sitting across the table sharing a drink.
The absolute BEST ! Superb work as always and the best story telling !
Peter, Jerome, Snooki, the Situation, Lucy, the pencil, all agree you were a gigantic presence in supreme command of all your talents giving the very Best to your audience ! You deserve Tonys, Obies, Oscars, Emmys !!! Don't stop now, you're on track to Stardom however already and always a STAR in our universe !
& such is life. but, you're the hero..........you went for it.
Hey... you went out there , you experienced it, and did a marvlous job{I know}. Hope it was fun . Wish I was there to cheer you on and VOTE! Keep up the good work a comedy will come your way!
Geraldine Hinckle wanted exposure for Wilkes-Barre.
She went out on a limb to make it happen.
You, too, have chosen to extend yourself and branch out. May good things come your way as a result.
You rock everyone's world - funny, smart and one hell of an actor - all at once....next show is around the corner....keep looking - it is there.
What can I say......some judges are total idiots. I used to coach young girls who were competing for San Juan County Queen. I always explained to them that different judges mean different results. You have to play to the judges.....so it's helpful to know who you are playing too.
Jane - this is a quote from a book I read long ago - this quote hangs in my office and home...
But once in a while the odd thing happens,
Once in a while the dream comes true,
And the whole pattern of life is altered,
Once in a while the moon turns blue.
Wish I could have seen you perform, Jane! Enjoyed this post, as always. Favorite lines:
"I was still in a farce, but not of my own making."
"Lots of countries don't exist. That hasn't stopped Tibet."
"I wanted to feel a buzz, while keeping my cholesterol in check."
Ha!
Sounds as if we would have laughed our heads off, sorry we could not
be there to help the voting.
We are both proud of you that you did the part and went through to the
very end.
Sorry this is late, had to make a trip to Illinois to visit Dinah's
brother, he has been in and out of the hospital with pneumonia so we
felt it was a necessary trip.
Try out for another play, this is really what you want to do, I think from
what I remember from previous conversations.
Happy birthday next Wednesday. We are going on a trip with the
Holloways.
Aleene and Dinah
I'm 249 emails behind. What a treat to find your story -- a plesure to read amonth the gloom and doom of what's happening in politics! I wish I could have seen the performance. How sad that addiction and prostitution win over laughter. I believe too many theatre critics thrive on "edgy", "far out", "ugly", and "dangerous". Jaded, they are.
I'm so glad 'Ruth' is hanging in there as am I. While traveling, I was thinking of you , and wondering how your most recent stage endeavor was going. You are following the path of those most successful...you don't give up and you listen and learn from all of them...No matter the results, you are ALWAYS a success because you took the risk endured to the end. I wish I lived in NY...I would be a devoted groupie.