Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Everything Happens...


People sometimes say that 'everything happens for a reason.'  I  never really bought into that.  I think it's simpler and a little more existential than that: 'everything happens...'

Sure, if you look back in hindsight at the events in a life, they appear to have happened for a reason; you grew from the event, you found a deeper place within you where compassion and anger dwell, you learned not to rollerskate with the confidence of a twelve-year-old at age fifty-something, learned not to poke your face with a stick, or that dreams can lead to heartache, especially when you poke at them with a stick.

Here's the thing.  Yesterday, in some sort of primal mimicry of the emotional lather the boys have been in, I allowed myself to dream a little dream, hope a little hope, aspire a little.  I really worked myself in to a lather.  You see, I decided to think about considering auditioning for a musical at a local stage here.  They are doing OKLAHOMA (which is apparently, always in caps, shouted I suppose), a show I did in community theater as a kid and know well.

Thinking about considering it included a Facebook post asking advice, sort of.  Well, a lot of people responded helpfully and a slew of others offered true encouragement.  It made me feel good, it really did.  I guess it's good to be considered, remembered by old friends, perhaps as a brilliant Thespian but more likely remembered as a person who deserves happiness, someone who was once such a Dreamer.

So I decided yes, I would audition, mostly because of the kind thoughts of others.  I got busy, I found music, I sang, I thought about what to wear, I sang, I remembered auditioning classes in school, I sang.  It was fun.

I also allowed myself to consider a bit of success; tangible, viewable success.  I am not always viewed as a successful person, actually I feel as though I am, but, hey, I'm a stay-at-home-dad who writes a blog, hand me the L for my forehead.  But, for a while yesterday I was a star, oh I don't mean a capital S Star, no, just a guy, on a stage, in a hat, singing my heart out.  A guy who gets a favorable mention in a blurb about a local stage production in a community paper.  A guy appreciated by his new-found friends, happy to be a part of something again.  A guy whose little dream, well, happened.

There's an old Joke about a guy whose buddy tells him there is a girl from Hawaii who wants to meet him and all the guy can think is:  I don't want to move to Hawaii.  Yeah, that's how far I got ahead of myself here.  I went as far as explaining to the boys that I was thinking about considering auditioning for a musical.  They've seen a few things at the local schools so they knew what I was talking about.  I explained that I would have to be gone quite a bit, mostly after dinner.  I said it was something I would like to do and that I had done a lot when I was younger.  I explained that I would have to miss their soccer game tonight.  They seemed to get it.

I went back on their website and looked again at the the things I would need.  I had a song, I was eighteen or older, I was prepared to do some dancing, (God forbid) and I would certainly be able to read from the script.  I was thinking about how I would introduce myself; whether to play up my acting background or focus on what I do now.  Should I be all upbeat and happy or low key and intense.  How should I interact with the other kids?  Would I be an outsider?  What if I got a bigger role, really nailed it?  What if...

Oh, right, I should have noticed that...  August twenty-seventh, not today August twenty-eighth.

The auditions were Monday, this is Tuesday.

The Tuesday I was a star.


There's a little bit more to the story.  I was able to go to the soccer game, the boys were excited and we were sort of rushed.  They had the game and on the way home, from behind me I could feel the heat of the lightbulb going off above Z's head.

"Hey Dad, what about that thing you were gonna do?  The place you were going... tonight?"

"The musical I told you about?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Dad sort of blew it, guys.  It turns out that the tryouts, remember, auditions, were last night not tonight.  I missed them so I won't be able to be in it."

There was a long beat from the backseat.

"Sorry, Dad."

"Yeah, sorry Dad, that's too bad."

It is too bad, I guess.

The reason I don't think this happened is so I could hear that quiet moment in the backseat as their little minds extrapolated and construed and twisted a number of facts and feelings; as both those beautiful, generous souls understood the inherent melancholy that comes with disenchantment.  They had glimmered, I suspect, the hope in my tone, the excitement in my voice, the slight twinkle in my eyes.  They could tell, and they knew I was disappointed.

If there is a reason this happened, and I am not saying there is, it might be because I was going to wear my cowboy hat.  That cowboy hat makes me look stupid.


Honestly, I guess I am bummed out a little, but, everything happens...


Let's not leave on a down note:




It's just always funny...



3 comments:

  1. Katie BrocklehurstAugust 29, 2012 at 12:20 PM

    You're awesome, Bill! :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Why do boys always do that? It's as if that little flap built in is for seeing...

    ReplyDelete
  3. I hope this isn't preparation to be bu** heads when they grow up.

    Thanks for checking out my site!

    ReplyDelete