Always

July 23rd, 2010

Goodbye 200x300 AlwaysMy first weekend in Coos Bay, I was faced with a quandary: Had I found a new home, or was I just passing through?

I had made my way to St. Monica Catholic Church and the Rev. Angel Perez completed the Mass by asking if there were any visitors in the pews. They were told to raise their hands to receive a rosary. I kept mine in my lap, but afterward I told Father Angel that his question had left me unsure.

He smiled, gave me a hug and said “You are home!”

The past four years have proved him right. Both in my work and in my free time, I’ve never felt so connected to a community. I’ve cheered the boys on Friday night at Pete Susick Stadium and performed in Mingus Park with the Bay Area Concert Band to open the Oregon Coast Musical Festival. My job has allowed me to become friends with innovative youngsters, opinionated activists and a man who valiantly battled lung cancer. 

But nowhere have I felt more at home than in the theater community. 

A fellow St. Monica choir member, Kay Pace, suggested I audition for my first play, Anything Goes. Little did I realize she was inviting me into a family. The actors in this community are a talented bunch, but their theatrical abilities pale in comparison to their generosity. I’ve never spent a holiday by myself and know a home-cooked meal is only a phone call away.

These friends and the many others I’ve made make my decision to leave all the harder. By the time you read this, I will have left The World and will be in the process of moving to Davis, Calif., to study law.

I’ve enjoyed my time at The World, just as I relished playing Billy Crocker, Joe Hardy, Lucas Brickman and the Scarecrow. But actors can’t play the same part forever, and I’m ready to try on a new role. 

That doesn’t make leaving any easier.

It’s appropriate, though, that my last two shows at Little Theatre on the Bay featured characters faced with having to bid farewell to friends. So I hope you will forgive me as I end my final column by borrowing a line from The Wizard of Oz:

Good-bye, Coos Bay. I’ll think about you always.

Goodbye, The World

July 21st, 2010

Today is my last day as a reporter for The World newspaper, so I’m feeling a little nostalgic. I’ve written a lot of articles and met a lot of interesting people in my time here. I could recount many of them, but this is a blog about acting, so instead I will give you my top five experiences in the local theater.

5. I love baseball, so it was a natural that I would go out for Damn Yankees. But as much as I enjoyed playing Joe Hardy, the more memorable experience was getting to perform Abbott & Costello’s Who’s on First routine for the Little Ole Opry comedy team last summer with Tim Novotny. 

4. Performing before sold out crowds is not unusual for Little Ole Opry, but Little Theatre on the Bay hadn’t seen a sell out for a musical in 18 years until our second-to-last matinee with The Wizard of Oz. Then we did it the following week. Standing backstage waiting for the shows was electrifying.

3. Before the last show of Anything Goes, we crammed the entire cast into the women’s dressing room (don’t worry, everyone was dressed) and we had a champagne toast. Jim Kemp had the most memorable line, saying it felt good to be part of a hit show. After the curtain fell, I got to tell the audience what a great guy our director Byrell Justice was. And how much he yelled.

2. The night before we closed, my parents came to see the show. I hadn’t told them I was playing the lead role of Billy Crocker, so the look on their eyes when I came out after bows was priceless. I didn’t know my mom could hug so tight.

1. Laughter on the 23rd Floor was a great show, especially because it involved co-director Anna Weidemiller. But the most memorable experience I’ve had in local theater came the fall of 2008, when she returned to the stage after a serious neck injury with Little Ol’ Big Band. She couldn’t dance any more, but she could still sing. And of all the singers in the group, I was the one who got to sing a duet with her. It was awesome.

Bearing the bear

July 16th, 2010

Breathe through the eyes.

This was the sage advice I received when I took on my latest role. It may sound like a Buddhist meditation challenge, but the suggestion really proved useful.

CareAvan 18 300x199 Bearing the bear

Finding a seat is tricky as Share Bear.

 

I wasn’t breathing through my eyes, of course, but through about three inches of fabric made to resemble eyes. You see, when The World’s Care-a-Van wheeled through town last Saturday, that was me clanging the bell in the North Bend fire truck. I was the Share Bear.

I wound up at the head of the parade thanks in part to my theatrical reputation and in part because of Michelle. She works at Oregon Coast Community Action, which partnered with The World on the food drive and has the Share Bear as its mascot. But as the two organizations prepared for last Saturday’s event, they had a problem. The Bear’s principal wearer, Morgan Filbert, was leaving the day before the Care-a-Van and no one else seemed to want to put on the duds.

I volunteered because I’ve secretly always wanted to dress up as a mascot. I only realized why the role might not be a popular one when I put on the costume. The head is huge and gets rather warm when you’re inside.  

I couldn’t see or hear very well, either, but once I got on the fire truck I had a great time. I held the windshield with one hand, the rope to the bell with the other and waved when I managed to keep my balance. Pedestrians and motorists aplenty waved as I passed and there was even a boy near the Coos Bay Boardwalk who distinctly yelled out “Hi Share Bear!”

CareAvan 20 300x199 Bearing the bear

Ready to roll.

 

And with wind whipping by at a brisk pace, I had plenty of air to breathe through my eyes.

Millie

July 13th, 2010

For many people, summer in North Bend means Little Ole Opry. For me, it means Jill Hanson.

Jill is the torch bearer for the comedy team that allows musicians a break during the summertime spectacle that is Little Ole Opry.

I met Jill at my first Masque Awards, in the glow following Anything Goes. So when she suggested I try out with her comedy team, I was all set to try something knew. Little did I realize what I was getting into. I can’t remember what she had me wear my first year, but since I’ve been doing the show I’ve been dressed as a variety of barn yard animals, women and all sorts of hill-billies. At first I was mortified by participating in such base humor, but I’ve actually come to enjoy it. 

Unlike a production like The Wizard of Oz, there is very little prep work. Sometimes the first time we do a skit on stage is when we’re doing it in front of audience like Theresa Erskine and I did this past Saturday. But it works because Jill has spent months writing the jokes, collecting the props and costumes and making sure she’s got people lined up to deliver the lines.

She’s also a great friend. My first conversation I had with her, she asked if I had a girlfriend. That’s been a common question since then, and whenever the answer was no, she tried to solve the problem. She’s also her comedians’ biggest fans. As soon as I get off stage, I can expect an immediate critique that always includes a complement.

Every time I have to wear a dress I say to myself “Never again!” But there is something about  Jill that makes me renege on my vow every time.