Why am I still an actor? (part deux)

First and foremost, I want to wish everyone a happy holidays. I hope you all had very calm, non-violent interactions with your loved ones. I, for one, had a doozy of a time. I will now proceed to tell you about each and every detail at length.

Oh wait. This is not suppose to be a Thanksgiving blog. I know I'm forgetting something. What on earth could it possibly be? Was it the story of how I learned to drive?...Noooo. Was it the story of some crazy guy on the subway perhaps?...Yeah that's it. Oh right, no, it isn't. Then what, pray tell? Yes, of course, when I last left you my loyal and patient readers, I was about to appear onstage for my first ever performance.

Allow me to set the scene. I had rehearsed for weeks and weeks on this very long, and very clever monologue. My director seemed very encourage by my progress. Especially considering that I had never acted before. I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing except for one, tiny little detail. There is a huge difference between performing for your fellow actors in rehearsal, and performing in front of people you don't know. Which I would soon find out.

Now the theatre itself was what is called a Black Box Theatre. Meaning that the space can be manipulated how ever the visionary in charge wants it to be. You can place the audience on one side and the stage on the other. You could make the stage in the middle and have the audience seated around it. Or, you could freak everybody out and put the audience on the stage and then have the actors watching them. Basically, it's an endless world of possibilities. Kinda like a long weekend in Bangkok.

The reason I needed to describe the layout with so much detail was to mention this one fact. The theatre was setup in such a way where my entrance to the stage was right next to an exit for the theatre. And that particular fact is important because, I was so utterly terrified at the idea of going on to the stage that I was seriously considering going out of the door and running down the street screaming like a little girl. My heart was pounding with so much force that I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. (Yes, that's very cliche but you've got to admit that cliches are cliches for a reason. And if a cliche fits you must acquit)

So I'm standing back stage and I'm having a serious Robert Frost moment. I am literally staring at two paths and must choose one. One the one hand, while running out of the door would have put the production in an awkward position, it certainly would have not destroyed the show. Sure there would be some inexplicably long pause, followed by some scrambling around, then some quick thinking, and ending with moving on to the next performer. But more importantly, I would have been spared the sheer terror that was coursing through my entire body at that moment. The other path was a road that I had always wanted to try. Something that I wanted to at least say that I did. It was the path that required me to do something more courageous than I had ever thought possible. I had worked incredibly hard and I was perfectly prepared to succeed. The only problem with the latter path was the fact that it was causing me to...how shall I say...shit my pants.

So I did the only thing that an incredibly insane person would do when faced with an obstacle that is causing tremendous fear...I charged into it, head on, with all of the energy and force that my mind and body could muster. (Which was a lot) And I've got to admit, it was the most liberating and proudest moment of my life. I was fueled by pure adrenaline. (Not that crap that you get off streets. The high quality shit) I was an unstoppable machine of acting prowess. I'm just glad no one was injured.

Fortunately for me, the audience was filled with other actors and friends of the theatre. Which means that regardless of whether or not it was good, (it was excellent by the way) they were all there to encourage everyone and cheer us on. In fact, my ego was a little more than inflated by the fact that the audience literally cheered after the opening segment of my monologue. And if I may foreshadow my, "thesis," at this point, I don't know too many investments bankers or lawyers who actually get cheered after a job well done.

Needless to say, I was hooked from that moment on. As the show moved through the next couple of weeks, some performances were better than others. Some audiences were better than others. I stopped crapping my pants before every show and was able to simply enjoy the moment. I had a major accomplishment under my belt. I explored something that I had always wanted to do but had been too afraid to give a shot. And not only had I done it, but it turned out that I was pretty gosh darn good at it. I made new friends, (some of whom I still know to this day) and an entirely new world was opened up to me.

I also knew that, while I was having so much fun performing on the stage, this was going to pretty much be the beginning and end of my acting career. I mean, maybe I would do some community theatre here and there. That would be fun and interesting. But there was absolutely, positively no way that I was going to be foolish enough to actually pursue acting as a full-time career. I was graduating with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Was I supposed to just ignore that? Hell no. It just wasn't going to happen.

Or was it?

Yes it was.

(To be continued)