In And Out And In And Out

From spring 1983 we leap to August of 1984. I'm guessing (because I don't remember) that there was a notice in the paper about auditions for A Midsummer Night's Dream to be performed as part of a Renaissance Theatrefest at Riverside - not a Vero Beach Theatre Guild production. I was intrigued. I'd never done any Shakespeare. I pulled out my Complete Works of Shakespeare and read the play. I was flabberghasted to find that The Bard had written me into a play three hundred years before I was born. Bottom The Weaver is an ass - like me. I HAD to audition. There was a lot of competition, but I could feel the role take me with it. I was called back for the next round, and it turned out the director saw Bottom in me as clearly as I did. I was in.

The Mechanicals, the rough tradesmen planning and rehearsing a play to perform for the king and his court, were all excellent, and Bottom was their shining star. We did Stooge moves, I did San Diego Chicken moves (I saw him three times at Vero Beach Dodger games. I have his autographed pictures!) and we rocked the audience.

Once again, I wasn't willing to JUST be in the show. When the director mentioned that we needed three heavy duty rustic stools for the mechanicals scenes, I brought them in from home. He mentioned that he was having trouble finding a donkey head for me. I asked if I could make one. "Do you think you can?" he asked. Fay assured him that I could. I did.

As a promotion for the upcoming Festival, much of the cast of the show was in the Labor Day parade on Ocean Drive in Vero. The carpenter had built a big cart that carried props and costume parts, as well as some cast members, in the parade. It was fun. I was an ass.


The show was performed on an outdoor stage. It was planned for Saturday, but it rained Saturday. We did it Sunday, and it was wondergful. Our only regret was that, after all that work, we only got to do it once. But at least we did it once.


Another act at the faire was "The Lords And Ladies," a local troupe of madrigal singers. Months later, they would be throwing a holiday Madrigal Dinner, and their jester had retired from the troupe. After seeing me in action as Bottom, they asked me to jest for them in December. I did, and it was fun. They also had a gig at the Teacher Of The Year Banquet, and I jested there as well but that was over a year later.


Having spent all that time around theatre again, I sort of got swept into auditions for the Vero Beach Theatre Guild production of The Dining Room in January of '85. It was an interesting show. The main character was the dining room. The six actors came and went through the room through the years as different characters in different situations. I was awarded a "Best Character Actor Genie Award for the '84-'85 season for that show.

Next thing I knew, I was being asked to be in a Showcase Operetta Company production of HMS Pinnafore. Many SOC people were Madrigal Singers as well, and two of them had been in The Dining Room with me. They thought I'd make a good Dick Deadeye. In addition, they needed a lot of help with the set. I was happy to oblige on both counts. The cool thing was that several Operetta people were on the faculty at the Junior High School, so the set was built and rehearsals were held there, about six blocks from my apartment. I walked.

As a smoker and infrequent singer, I was definitely at a disadvantage among these long-time operetta people, but I baffled them with my flair for the dramatic. Dick Deadeye has a verse included in the Finale To Act One, with dozens of people singing complementary chorus parts all over me. I needed a spectacular opening to my little section to focus attention on me among these dozens of performers. "Hmmm," I said, "I could swing in on a rope and land downstage center to begin. That would do it." I got permission from Bill the director and from the Riversiders to climb to the grid, sixty feet above the stage, and attach a sixty-foot rope. It was great. I had a chair off stage left, and a couple bars before my part, swung in and landed with a bang. The only time it didn't work well was the night Pete was meandering downstage just as I took off. The collision was pretty spectacular in its own right, but it didn't really work well as a theatrical element.

Widespread dissatisfaction with Riverside Theatre's new "professional attitude" was surfacing regularly now. Showcase needed the orchestra pit for the show, and it was covered by a stage-extension. Riverside added on a fee of hundreds of dollars to uncover the pit. In addition, they were mandating artistic controls over the Guild. There was much grumbling going on. The summer of '85 was the moment of transition - next post!