“Do something that scares you every day.
You have nothing to lose but fear itself.”
- Dali Lama
At six-thirty p.m., on an October evening, a disparate group of five people gathered together for six weeks – give or take a day or two, to rehearse for a community theatre production of Ira Levin’s Death Trap. Most of us knew each other, and for the fifth time since early 2019, I got to ‘play’ with a group of seasoned and talented actors.
Act one – a little background…
I left the military and returned to school in the early 1970s. I made myself busy because I was lonely. I joined the track team, worked as a janitor, and had an evening radio show, but I was untethered. In those days, it wasn't popular to have been in the military, particularly as a participant in the Vietnam war. So, packing as much into a day as possible was an artificial means of keeping loneliness at bay.
Had Albert Camus written a sequel to L’Étranger (The Stranger), his theme of absurdist existential crisis, could have used my return to American society as a template.
Did I mention I was lonely?
Most of my nonevent-filled time was spent in the library. It was a safe place to study and hide when I wasn’t doing other things. Despite being busy, education was the primary reason for being back in school. One day, I saw a flyer announcing auditions for a college play. The notice said the theatre department was looking for two lead actors and two narrators for a production by the Irish playwright Brian Friel called Lovers.
Hmmm, I thought. Maybe I could audition for one of the narrators. After all, I was doing radio. It would be another time-filling project to keep my mind busy and stave off the internal isolation I was trying so desperately to ignore. Yeah, this was a good idea!
It was a good idea until I did not get the narrator part, but the male actor in the play.
Hmmm, I thought. I would need to reach back into one of those secret rooms tucked away in my neurochemistry for the resources to do something like this. This was a problem because I DID NOT have a room, secret or otherwise, from which to draw. I had never done any theatre.
That play was one of the most challenging, exciting, terrifying, and humbling experiences of my life. It was the first time I realized that the people on stage were only a small part of a team of set designers/builders, costume makers, make-up artists, musicians, in addition to the director. I also realized that all those people were counting on the folks on stage to bring to fruition their hard work. No pressure!!
In the end the experience was a success, thanks to a theatre community that took a young lonely, wayfaring stranger into their midst and made him a part of their family.
That was then!
Act two – this is now…
In 2018, after retiring and teaching at a local community college, I joined a local theatre board. It was a new venture in our town, the vision of a retired woman who had many years of theatrical experience in Chicago. Tucson has a robust theatre community with several active companies. Oro Valley did not have one. She thought it should. Through sheer force of will, and a ‘with a little help from her friends,’ she brought the company into existence.
The first play was Thorton Wilder’s Our Town. She asked if I would consider auditioning. Because of my vast theatrical experience and rich thespian instincts, I agreed! What was I thinking!!
Unbelievably, I got the part of a country doctor. It was odd to appreciate that even though it had been over fifty-one years since being one of the Lovers, the feelings of uncertainty returned as if it were yesterday. As it had been in that day, the experience was challenging, exciting, terrifying, humbling, and in the end – satisfying!
A few shows with minor parts followed, although it should be said there are not many roles for someone of my tender years. Despite my wrinkled machinery, the little fellow that lives inside this organic space suit, still feels the excitement of emerging possibilities, and is happy when there is the opportunity to ‘play.’
Preparing the trap…
Once again, the weeks of working together resulted in the cast bonding from the united effort. This could only have happened because of our director's gentle and well-seasoned hand. The weeks sped by, as we pulled together, laughed together, forgot lines together, covered for one another’s mistakes, and polished the text, as words and characters from a one-dimensional script materialized into a three-dimensional theatrical production.
Death Trap is a convoluted story of murder, intrigue, betrayal, with unexpected twists and turns. It is an entertaining, and sometimes humorous morality tale of the consequence of lust and greed…a story that reminds the audience that, no matter what, one never really gets away with violating the Creator’s natural law.
The play was a success. We sold out all five performances.
All good things...
After the last performance, we struck the set (took it down). We hugged, said our goodbyes, and returned to our separate lives. There is always the promise that “…we should get together sometime…” but that seldom happens.
Like the morning mists on a summer pond, it all slipped into the ether. The experience was exciting, and like all of life, temporary. The brief journey complete – the time well spent.
The aftermath…
There is a sense of empty nesting, a little melancholy that settles in from the spot that had been filled with so much collective focus and energy. It is not surprising I have similar feelings at the end of each semester of teaching.
This is the cycle of life. Nothing is permanent. I don’t see this as a negative. Each adventure brings something new and is renewed with the next voyage we take. The real question is – what do we take away from the experience?
I loved doing this show. Now it is tucked away in my aging neurochemistry. Now there is a secret room from which I can draw if something new emerges.
Next? Who knows?
I still feel a little like a '...stranger in a strange land...' from time to time. There is still a quietly whispering and nagging voice of loneliness. But I have learned how to turn inward and build a meaningful home within my mind. I have learned that words, ideas, and experiences aren’t just passing scenery, but can comfort and sustain us.
Moving forward…remaining curious…seeking the unknown...opening doors without fully knowing what's behind them…stretching minds as much as possible…these are the keys. They do require saying yes. They do require choosing.
It's impossible to know what the future will bring. So it is a useless exercise to project the relevance of our lives into tomorrow. All we have is today; dare I say, all we have is the breath of this very moment. We are promised nothing more.
Death Trap was a great metaphor for the consequence of making poor choices. But, trapped by death? That’s not the way I look at things.
As far as I’m concerned, I can’t wait to see what’s around the corner!
- ted
