Bare Pride

Six laid off steel mill workers decide to become strippers in hopes of a big payday.  This is the thrust of The Full Monty by Terrance McNally with music and lyrics by David Yazbeck and is currently playing at Maples Repertory Theatre.

After reading my opening paragraph, you might be asking yourself, “Is this show raunchy?”  And the answer is “Yes, a little.”  When a story is about a group of mostly blue-collar guys deciding to strip, I would have been quite surprised if there had been no crudity.  But that isn’t the real story of the show.

The show is about WHY these men decide to become strippers.  That turns it into a story about pride.  You see the good side of pride because these men have stopped feeling like men due to their long unemployment.  They simply want to be good providers for their families again.  You also see the negative side of pride due to their unwillingness to take lesser jobs until something better comes along.  There’s even a bit of nobility to their decision to strip as all are extremely uncomfortable at the thought of baring it all, but are willing to make a sacrifice to their pride in this respect in order to put food on the table.

Brandon McShaffrey provides some top quality direction and choreography to this musical.  He has an iron grip on the true themes of this show and helps his cast make nuanced, multilayered people out of their characters.  The staging is impeccable, utilizing the entire theatre to tell this story.  His choreography is also a great deal of fun with my personal favorite dance numbers being “Big Black Man” and “Michael Jordan’s Ball”.

As for the cast. . .my, my, my.  There isn’t a bum in the lot.  Some of the 5 star performances you’ll see come from Nancy Marcy as an acerbic former entertainer (maybe?) who just randomly shows up with a piano to provide musical accompaniment for the would-be strippers; Garrick Vaughan as Noah “Horse” T. Simmons who dances like Fred Astaire in spite of a dodgy hip; Todd J. Davison as the buttoned down Harold Nichols who reluctantly teaches the troupe how to do a strip tease; Matthew Sather as the dumb as a post Ethan Girard who makes em laugh with his repeated failures to complete Donald O’Connor’s wall flip from “Make Em Laugh”; and last, but certainly not least, Madison Kauffman and Kyrstin Skidmore as Georgie Bukatinsky and Pam Lukowski, the wife and ex-wife of the two leading characters.  Both are rocks in their relationships with their husband and ex-husband.

I also want to take a moment to note the powerful performance of Michael Perrie, Jr. as Malcolm McGregor.  This is a sublime performance as Perrie captures the essence of a somewhat nerdy, lonely, repressed man who is dominated by his mother.  His decision to strip actually raises him up as he finally has friends and is able to embrace his own sexual identity.  Perrie has a stunning tenor and has the night’s most moving number, “You Walk with Me”.

Alan Gillespie plays Jerry Lukowski and is brilliant.  Gillespie’s Lukowski is about as blue-collar as you get.  He swears.  He’s opinionated.  He’s even a bit of a hustler who has clearly talked his best friend into a lot of hare-brained schemes in the past.  But he’s also a bit of a sensitive soul and some of his braggadocio is a cover for how scared he truly feels at the moment.  He wants to work and provide and he’s truly fearful about losing custody rights to his son due to being unable to pay child support.  Jerry’s decision to strip is not a get rich quick scheme.  It’s a desperate attempt to obtain enough money quickly enough so he can still be a dad to his son.

Gillespie has flawless delivery and can snap off a bon mot in one moment and be staggeringly tender in the next.  His singing voice is fantastic and can be snarkingly amusing such as “Big-Ass Rock” where he sings about helping a friend commit suicide or heartbreakingly loving such as singing to his sleeping son in “Breeze Off the River”.

My hat is off to Bobby Montaniz with his performance as Dave Bukatinsky.  Due to the loss of a performer, Montaniz only had 4 days to learn his part, but you’d think he’d had 4 months with the confidence of his performance.  To be honest, Montaniz is confidently unconfident with his take on Dave.  Unemployment has broken Dave.  He no longer feels like a man and makes the mistake of carrying the burden by himself instead of sharing it with his wife.  He is extremely self-conscious about stripping due to being overweight and takes a job he hates because he loves his wife.  But when he finally opens up to Georgie, it’s the play’s most satisfying moment as he finally gains the courage he needs to let it all hang out.

Yvonne Johnson’s costumes do the trick from the very casual wear of most of the steel mill workers to the breakaway costumes of the strippers.  My favorite bit of costuming is from the number “The Goods” when the women are dressed in the working gear of stereotypically masculine jobs to ogle/deride our wannabe strippers.  P. Bernard Killian has designed a series of set pieces that encourage the imagination to complete the picture such as the wall and large picture window of Harold’s house to the glittery curtains used for the strip shows.  Jess Fialko does fine work with the lights from the colorful flashes on the performance curtain to the darkening of the theatre for the strippers to the soft lights for the play’s more tender moments.  Sky Aguilar has some great sounds for the show from the engine of a car running when one of the characters tries to monoxide himself to the crashes and thuds of Ethan trying to flip around backstage.  Patrick Summers and his orchestra really play up the fun of the amusing and sometimes sensitive score.

This show is a lot of fun and is far more than a tale about male strippers.  It’s about pride.  It’s about friendship.  It’s about the real meaning of being a man.  It’s about family.  And it is definitely a good time.

The Full Monty plays at Maples Repertory Theatre through July 7.  Showtimes are at 2pm June 23, 28, July 2-3, 7 and at 7:30pm June 23, 26, 29, July 5-6.  Tickets begin at $24 and be obtained by calling the Box Office at 660-385-3924 or visiting www.maplesrep.com.  Due to strong language and sensitive subject matter, this show is for mature audiences.  Maples Repertory Theatre is located at 102 N Rubey St in Macon, MO.

A Season of Change, Part I: The Man in the Mirror

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror. . .Take a look at yourself and make that change.”—Michael Jackson

That’s a powerful quotation from an equally powerful song and it sums up my feelings about this season of change.  New shows.  New leadership at the Playhouse.  New possibilities.  New opportunities.

It’s very hard to believe that’s it’s been nearly a year and a half since I’ve done any acting.  Part of that has been the result of a busy schedule, but the other part has been because of changes wrought by the man in the mirror.

I’m going to share a secret with you. . .I’ve dropped three straight auditions.  And after the third loss, that demon of doubt did make a fleeting visit across my mind.  During his brief visit, I raced back through the halls of memory to that period I called “the drought” in my theatre tales and I had a realization.

“The drought” was far more than a battle to get cast.  It was a war with myself.  A duel between my confidence and my doubt and my doubt slapped my confidence silly during that time frame.  It wasn’t until Leaving Iowa that my confidence finally, and irrevocably, defeated my doubt, though it does attempt to pop back in every once in a while.  But all I do is go back to that lovely view I had as Don Browning and I remember I can act and doubt tucks its tail between its legs and runs.

Even though it no longer matters, losing does suck.  It’s a natural feeling.  Everybody wants to be noticed, to win, and to have their efforts rewarded.  The important thing is to not let yourself be defined by the loss.  Not so long ago, a run of defeats would have had me thinking, “They think I can’t act.”  Now my thoughts are, “I just don’t fit the mold they want.”  That moves it from an ability issue to a perception issue and the latter is what really carries the weight in getting cast.  That’s the biggest change that came from the man in the mirror.

Another change is that I’ve become a bit more selective about what I do.  I won’t just audition for anything under the sun.  It’s about finding just the right story and just the right character.  For the first time, I actually chose not to audition for a show.  In fact, I did it twice.

I’ve been thinking I might like to try my hand at directing, so lately I’ve found myself viewing roles through the eyes of the whole.  Do my personal qualities make me well suited to roles that catch my interest?

For example, I was interested in reading for David Mamet’s American Buffalo over at the Blue Barn.  It’s a story about three men who plot to rob an old man of a rare coin.  The play was definitely an interesting read and there was a role that did pique my interest.  His name was Teach and I was drawn to him because he was as diametrically opposed to me as possible.  This guy is jaded beyond belief, paranoid, and curses like a sailor.  It’s a very good role.  But as I read it, I found that I couldn’t get into it as an actor.  Viewing it from the perspective of a director, I felt that Teach has a blue collar quality that I lack.

There was a role for a young junkie who is also a good role and even fit my personal qualities.  But I pictured the guy as a teenager and I was far too old.  Even if I’d been the correct age, I pictured the guy as being very slightly built and I’m pretty powerfully built in the shoulders.  I just didn’t see me in the roles, so I made the decision not to audition, though I will review it.

The second audition was for a show that I was actually quite excited about.  It’s called The Whipping Man and it’s the story of a Confederate Jewish soldier who returns home after the surrender at Appomattox, finds the homestead abandoned, and finds two of his family’s former slaves who inherited the Jewish faith from their ex-masters.  It’s Passover and they have a traditional seder and secrets are revealed.

This is a tight, well balanced script and each of the three actors is given a chance to shine.  I was excited about the possibilities and then the Playhouse released the character descriptions.

The director wanted the soldier to be in his twenties and I’m starting to push 40 from the wrong end.  My hair is receding and is getting pretty silver.  Now my face is still pretty young looking, so I thought I might have a chance, provided I could get the director to see me as a young man who had seen the horrors of war which can badly age a person.

Now that I knew what was being looked for, I reread the script, but with the eyes of the director.  I was trying to understand why the soldier was supposed to be so young.  And I got it.  I really think the solider is supposed to have a sense of immaturity which I no longer exude or even look like I have.

I still strongly considered auditioning just to get my face shown.  Then an opportunity arose for me to travel which would take place during the run of the show and as I weighed my options, guaranteed trip vs. nearly non-existent chance of getting cast, the trip won out.  But my tendency to now view these roles through the eyes of a director is another change brought about by the man in the mirror.

And then fate tossed me a potential bone.  I was contacted by my old friend, Lara Marsh, stage manager extraordinaire, who would be moving into the director’s chair to helm the first 21 and Over event at the Playhouse which was a play entitled, Lost Boy at Whole Foods.  At the time, the audition had not been formally announced so Lara asked me to keep it under my hat.

I had actually been asked to audition and that’s something that hasn’t happened for a very long time.  Even better, I could do this show plus stay committed to my trip as it would only require 5 nights of rehearsal and a one night performance on September 30.  Whatever this role was, Lara already saw me in it and it sounded promising, so I said I’d audition.

Lost Boy at Whole Foods was my first audition in five months and only my third in nearly a year and a half, so I felt something I had never felt before at an audition. . .ring rust.  I really felt clunky.  In a previous theatre tale, I once talked about how my heart often boosted my auditions and I needed every bit of my heart as my theatre muscles had clearly lost their suppleness.  I felt that I hadn’t made a fool out of myself, but not one of my strongest auditions.

I must have done better than I thought, for Lara called me that Wednesday and asked me to return for a callback the next Friday.  I had a genuine feeling of pride as it was my first callback since 2010 and a callback signifies that the director believes you have the talent.  Now it’s just a matter of finding the right composition.

Another friend who was called back, Stephanie Kidd, slipped me the script so I had a chance to study it and I began to have a better idea of what Lara was looking for in the character of Michael.  I went into the callback feeling much stronger than I had at the original audition.

I, at first, thought that I might have already been cast in the play as I was the only person in the room who fit the parameters for the role of Michael.  Then, as Lara was about to begin, a third acquaintance, Karl Rohling entered the room.  Wow!  Literally a one on one callback.  There would be no question of who got the role.  It would either be Karl or me.

Unsurprisingly, both of us did well.  My heart didn’t have to do quite so much heavy lifting as the practice I had done during the week strengthened my theatrical muscles.  As I expected, neither Karl nor I could get the edge on the other.  I read well, executed all of Lara’s directions, and he did the same.  As I told a friend, “Flip a coin.  It could be either one of us.”

On Tuesday, I got a letter from Lara telling me that she did not cast me.  When I saw the telltale envelope in the mailbox, that was when doubt tried to worm its way into my head and tell me, “She thinks you’re a bad actor.”  But he didn’t stay very long.  I’m dead certain that it was a matter of composition.  I know who I would have blended the best with from a cosmetic standpoint and that person not being cast may very well have dictated my not getting cast or vice versa.  My ability to beat back doubt is another (and positive) change coming from the man in the mirror.

Odds are, it’s going to be a few months before my next audition, but it’s going to be a big one.  I don’t want to reveal it just yet, but I will say it’s for one of my big three shows.  I can already see the grin on the face of the man in the mirror.

Overcoming Rejection (Now with Bonus Material)

AUTHOR’S NOTE:  For those of you wondering how my audition went, I am sorry to report that I did not get cast in Boeing, Boeing.  A year ago, I would have really taken this defeat to heart, but thanks to Leaving Iowa, that is no longer the case.  My only real regret is that I missed out on my final chance to work with Carl Beck.  But I would like to take a moment to thank him for the opportunities he gave me in my early days when I was. . .less than good ;).  I wrote the following article shortly before my casting in Leaving Iowa about a year ago and thought it would be good for any actors who read my blog who may be having their own struggles with theatre.

Auditions.  I think that word has the same effect on actors the way crosses affect vampires.  Yet all performers must endure them in order to be able to do a show.

Personally, I don’t mind auditions as I view it as the one brief moment where I can showcase my craft.  It’s the aftermath of the audition that can be depressing when I meet the dreaded beast known as REJECTION.

What is so peculiar about the audition process is that an actor actually has very little control over it.  The only control an actor has is over his or her acting, singing, and dancing and that actually counts for very little in getting cast.  Uncontrollable factors such as weight, sound, look, chemistry, director’s vision,  and other items play a much greater role in getting cast.  It will NEVER be purely about talent.

I learned that lesson in the most brutal way imaginable.  A short time into my career, my dream show, The Elephant Man, was going to be produced.  I prepared like I had never prepared before.  By the time I walked into the audition, I was thinking, speaking, and being John Merrick.  And it was a fabulous audition.  In fact, I rank my read as Merrick, as my absolute finest.  Three weeks later I received notification that I was not cast in the show and to say I was crushed would be the understatement of a lifetime.  I was CRRRRUSHHHEDDDD!!!!!!  Imagine how flabbergasted I was to later discover that the reason I wasn’t cast was because the director thought I had worked too hard on the role.  That was how I learned about the power of uncontrollable factors.

I have been in this business for nearly 18 years and after all this time I still get terribly disappointed when I do not get cast in a show.  As actors, we put ourselves on the line and lay bare our souls for judgment in the hopes that our talent, in conjunction with those uncontrollable factors, is enough to land roles.  If I didn’t feel bad about not getting cast, I would think I wasn’t caring enough.

There are only 2 types of auditions that do not bother me when I don’t get cast.  The first is if I simply didn’t do a good job.  If I had a poor audition, I have nothing to feel bad about because I know I didn’t present myself in my best light.  I have a “Darn it!” moment and move on to the next audition.  The other type is if I know I was simply outclassed on that particular audition.  Nearly two years ago, I auditioned for a show called Becky’s New Car and I had a really great audition.  I was proud of it.  But there was another gent there whose audition was clearly superior to mine.  When he was done reading, I wanted to stand up and say, “We have a winner!!  Give him the role.”

After many years of hard work, I have evolved into a decent actor so those types of auditions occur very infrequently today.  Most of my defeats in recent years have occurred simply because of factors outside of my control.  And it is very humbling to know you have done good work and to not have that work rewarded.  The only blow more difficult is to know you did not have a chance to show your absolute best and that blow is downright devastating.

With very rare exceptions, I go into every audition thoroughly prepared.  By that I mean, I’ve read the play, selected the characters I’ve liked, and put some practice into those roles so I can be seen in the best possible light.  Back in 2008, I auditioned for Twelve Angry Men and I dutifully prepared the role of Juror 8 (played by Henry Fonda in the film version).  I was in the first group called up and I was asked to read the role of Juror 2 (played by John Fiedler in the film) for that scene.  Juror 2 had 3 very short sentences in that scene, so all I could really do was listen to the others as a very nervous man would.  After several more rounds with other actors, the director said she would start dismissing people and I was the first person eliminated.  I was stunned, but refused to go down without a fight.  I asked if I could read for Juror 8 and the director thought for a moment before looking at me and saying, “I don’t see you as Juror 8.”  I felt like I had just been punched in the gut with a gauntlet.  Losing is one thing, but to lose without being able to go down swinging is another.

I share these anecdotes with you so you know that rejection happens to every actor.  It’s a guarantee. It’s also OK to feel bad about being rejected.  It’s natural.  It’s understandable.  Just remember to keep it in perspective.

Remember that being rejected is not personal.  A director never feels good about making an actor feel bad and he or she does not WANT to make an actor feel bad.  Heck, the directors in my first and third anecdotes went out of their way to console me after I swallowed the bitter pills.  Neither one was saying I was a bad actor.  All they were really saying was that I just didn’t suit their vision of the characters.  A director sees the whole of a show and makes casting decisions to ensure the artistic integrity of the project.  Those decisions are impersonal and you should never take a rejection as a slight on your talent.  One rejection or a string of rejections does not mean you are not a well rounded performer.  All a rejection means is that you didn’t suit the particular needs of that particular director for that particular project.  And remember casting is very, very hard.  I just assisted with the biggest audition in Omaha history.  350 people showed up to audition for Les Miserables.  Regrettably, 300+ talented people aren’t going to make it in and that will not be a reflection on their abilities.

Recently, I read a wonderful article on handling audition rejection and that is what inspired me to write this article.  The author pointed out that after a bad audition experience, NEVER DWELL ON THE NEGATIVES.  Consider them in terms of improvement for the next audition, but do not DWELL on them.  Instead, FOCUS on the things that went well for you and remember them in terms of good solid audition technique as well as the strengths you possess as a performer.

Most importantly, NEVER DEFINE YOURSELF BY THE AUDITION.  Just because your unique styles and strengths weren’t needed for this particular project doesn’t mean they won’t be vital for the next project.

ALWAYS BELIEVE IN YOUR TALENT.  Talent cannot be stopped.  Eventually, it does prove itself whether it takes 8 auditions or 800 auditions.

COMING SOON:  I will be returning to Las Vegas for another series of stories in March.  I will also be reviewing the Prairie Creek Bed and Breakfast in a little under two weeks.  In the meantime, if you need a fix of traveling stories, please visit my brother’s travel blog at http://thatoneguywhotravels.wordpress.com.

It No Longer Matters

I’ve just come home from my first audition in nearly a year and I can safely say that a new era in theatre has begun for it no longer matters.

Mind you, that’s not a negative statement.  This has actually been the moment I’ve been fighting to reach for years.  The moment where I could enjoy theatre in its fullest.  The moment where getting cast was no longer a dire necessity.  The moment where winning and losing no longer matter.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still hope to do as much theatre as I can handle, but I’m no longer going to be devastated if I don’t get cast.  The Miracle Show aka Leaving Iowa has forever transformed my outlook on theatre.

I auditioned for the Omaha Playhouse’s production of Boeing, Boeing under the direction of Carl Beck in his final solo directing project.  (He’ll co-direct Young Frankenstein:  The Musical with Susie Baer-Collins as their swan song as both are retiring at the end of the season).  The thrust of the play focuses on Bernard, an American architect living in Paris and his old friend, Robert.  Bernard is engaged to 3 airline hostesses who all fly different airlines and routes which is how he’s able to juggle the three relationships.  Robert’s arrival to visit Bernard coincides with the airlines beginning to use the much faster Boeing airplane which now means that all of Bernard’s fiancées are going to be at his home at the same time and hilarity ensues.

It was a fairly good crowd with 17 people showing up to audition.  It was certainly a fine “Welcome Back” to the theatre world as I found myself facing some very heavy hitters on the community theatre circuit.  Among them were:

Nick Zadina, a versatile performer who can handle comedy and drama with equal aplomb

Anthony Clark-Kaczmarek, a top notch comedic actor who is highly experienced in farce

Monty Eich, a talented funnyman and a founding member of the Weisenheimers, an Omaha improv troupe

I was honored to be able to test myself against these guys and I’m proud to say that I was more than up to the task of holding my own with them.  It became quite clear early on, that the 4 of us were the frontrunners along with another young man whom I’d never seen before.  He was a little slow getting out of the gate, but once he got going, he gave a pretty impressive audition and I hope to see him continue in theatre.

The five of us were the only people who were called up to read multiple times and none of us were able to really gain an advantage on the others.  At one point or another we all shined, so it’s really going to boil down to who comes to the second round tomorrow and the uncontrollable factors that Carl needs for these characters.  Although, he hasn’t done it the last few times I’ve auditioned for him, there is a possibility that callbacks may be needed.  I really wish there was more flexibility in the casting because all of us would fill the roles nicely.

I was particularly pleased with my two takes as I made Bernard slightly prickish and I made Robert a timid, Nervous Nelly.  I felt good, relaxed, and at peace and I believe those qualities communicated themselves.  More importantly, I didn’t treat the audition like a competition.  I was able to sit back and really appreciate the work the other performers were doing. 

Honestly, I felt a bit like a director myself, as I started piecing together who might work well where and with whom.  It was interesting seeing the whole for the first time and trying to put the puzzle pieces together to come up with the ideal cast.  It truly is a difficult process.

For the first time in years, I’m going to sleep peacefully without concerns of whether I get cast or not.  If I do, great, I look forward to the adventure.  If not, it isn’t the end of the world.  There will always be another show.  I now know who I am as an actor and the peace of mind that comes with that is a far greater prize than all the future roles I’ll earn.  And that is why. . .

It no longer matters.

 

 

Soaring, Part 2

So after a year of dramatic improvement after the awakening, I finally was sent crashing back to earth after my failure in My Three Angels.  I was disappointed, but there was no use dwelling on it.  I swallowed my heaping helping of humble pie and moved on.

I had a break of a few months before I attempted my next audition.  I pursued a role in the Playhouse production of The Underpants directed by Carl Beck.  This was my first audition for Carl since the awakening and I thought it would be a good test of my newfound powers.

I came to the Playhouse and saw I would be going toe to toe with some of the heavyweight regulars of the Playhouse.  When I got up on stage a most wondrous thing happened.

I was able to keep pace with the heavyweights.

I was on.  I was having the time of my life up there and it was funny and it was working.  No matter how this audition turned out, I knew I could leave with my head held high.  A few days later, I got the rejection slip BUT there was a twist this time.  Carl had actually taken the time to write a little note in the margins and it said:

Chris,

That was your strongest audition.  Lots of confidence.  Good work.

Not a bad second prize at all.  And it helped to rebuild the confidence that had been lost by the debacle of My Three Angels.  I rode this confidence into my next audition which was Starkweather over at the Circle Theatre.

This play was based on the infamous serial killer, Charles Starkweather, and had been written by Doug Marr, one of the Circle’s founders.  Doug had actually asked me to audition for the show and I gave a fairly good showing of myself at the audition.  I didn’t hear anything for several weeks and decided that I must have been rejected.

In the meantime, I had read a play called Biloxi Blues which was going to be the season finale in the Howard-Drew Theatre over at the Omaha Playhouse.  This was an unusual cast because, with the exception of one or two characters, the cast is comprised entirely of young people, and I mean really young.  The characters are teenagers and I was 28 at the time, so I didn’t think I had much of a chance.

On the other hand, I was unusually young looking.  Even today, I still have a babyface, even though the gray in my temples has hopefully neutralized it to an extent.  As you read in part 1, my “young look” often cost me roles that I was actually old enough to play in years, if not appearance.  At the eleventh hour, I decided, “What the heck?”  I had absolutely nothing to lose in the attempt.

The show was guest directed by Susan Clement-Toberer, the artistic director of the Blue Barn Theatre.  I had actually auditioned for her twice before, but neither audition was much to scream about.

My first audition for her had been for a show called The Dark at the Top of the Stairs and it occurred during the time frame I was suffering from depression.  It was actually one of my stronger auditions during that period, due to the fact that I was auditioning for a character nearly as depressed as I was, but it still wasn’t that great.

The second time had been for a show called Three Tall Women over at the Blue Barn and my audition bombed.  It was the only time I had ever choked during an audition.  I had brought my own monologue and when I got onstage, I grew very self-conscious and flopped on my face.

With my new confidence in my powers, I was ready to turn that around.

And what a turnaround!!

For the first, and only, time in my avocation, it was me and everybody else.  I was quite clearly in a class of my own and could not be touched.  Susan would have me read pages at a time and forget to stop me because she “got lost in what I was doing”.

When I had signed up for the audition, I had, again, limited myself to just 2 characters.  After I had read a couple of times, Susan asked me if I were willing to consider other roles.  I saw the message instantly and told her that I would be open to other roles as they were all interesting.

Shortly thereafter, I got my first proper callback.  The callback was more hotly contested, but I considered myself in the upper echelon of things.  When I finished, I thought I had a really good shot at getting cast.

While I was waiting for a response, I suddenly got a message from the Circle Theatre regarding Starkweather.  It turned out they had wanted to cast me the entire time, but forgot to offer me a role!!!  I told the theatre that I would let them know after the weekend as I had auditioned for another show and I wanted to hear how that would turn out.

On Sunday, Susan offered me the role of Don Carney, the wannabe singer, in Biloxi Blues.  I politely declined the offer from the Circle and was ready to embark on what would be a grand adventure.

To be continued. . .