The Power of Improv (Or, a Continuation of How I Justify Making Up Damn Near Everything in My Life as I Go Along): Part 3

           A quick rewind as we move into the third significant “yes, and” moment: Late February of 2019, the local community theater had auditions for a musical called “Hands on a Hardbody” (my overenthusiastic review of that will surface eventually). But what’s more, I actually suggested to the theater that they look into this show last year. AND THEY DID AND DECIDED TO DO IT. I WAS SO DAMN EXCITED, IT’S OBSCENE. I realized one night, after debating whether or not to try out and ultimately deciding to do so, that I could not be in this show—my vacation time fell during the last weekend of shows. I was disappointed. I was frustrated. I was surprised at how much it aggravated me. Finally, I came to the conclusion that even if I couldn’t be IN the show, I would find a way to be as involved as humanly possible. I showed up to auditions and explained my position to the director, who, for some reason, just sorta nodded and was like, “Yeah, that’s cool, rehearsal starts next week, see you there.”

            GREAT. What proceeded was basically eight weeks of me just stalking damn near every move of the cast as they worked towards opening night. I don’t know if I was actually useful or not, I usually just lurked around the theater, ran some music for some rehearsals, would occasionally stand in or read for those who couldn’t be present, was their general cheerleader and support system, etc. I had way, way too much fun for someone who was essentially just watching the same show over, and over, and over again.

            It was the night before opening. The full-blown dress rehearsal. And…Maggie was in the hospital.

            I was sitting in the audience, eating my leftovers, freshly showered from my run and wearing clean gym clothes and compression sleeves on my legs when I was informed of this and that I was requested to stand in for her that night.

            Well, yeah. I guess I can do that. I’ve never sung her solo in its entirety ever (the first time I heard it, I thought, “I can sing that!” and then I tried, it was wildly too high pitched, and I stopped after the second verse), but sure, why not? I certainly know what they’re aiming for after watching nearly every rehearsal for the last two months. Besides, it’s just another rehearsal, not an actual show. Let’s go for it.

Spoiler alert: the song is still too high for my vocal range. I went for it. I sort of hit the notes? I stood in for the whole rehearsal, agreed to stand in for opening night if needed (I didn’t, Maggie, thankfully, was well and fully recovered by the next day!), and had probably too much fun as the random helper/stalker/cheerleader person. It was a small, insignificant moment, but it was still another “yes, and” instance and it brought me so much joy, even if I was truly useful just that one time.

So now it’s May, I’m back from vacation, and honestly a little upset that the Hardbody Experience is over. I just adored watching the entire process unfold, witnessing the cast discover the nuances and intricacies of their characters, and seeing the world of Longview, Texas come to life on our tiny little stage. 

Here I was, facing approximately 10 long, steamy, unbearably hot, humid weeks of summer before hunt season begins. Most people experience seasonal depression in the winter, but I experience it in July and August. As much as I love my job, when we aren’t hunting and we’re just exercising horse after horse after horse in the oppressive heat, it’s one time I’ll honestly question what I’ve chosen to do with my life. You don’t know heat until you’ve lived in this Florida/Georgia swampland.

I digress. I spent probably more hours than I should have thinking, wishing, hoping to find a way to be involved with another show, or the people who were in Hardbody, or, preferably, both.

The universe apparently heard me and, guess what, “yes, and”—ed the shit out of that, but not at all how I was expecting. Of course. Because that’s just how the world works.

I was scrolling through the land of Facebook, as you do, and noticed one of my friends from the Hardbody Experience had shared a flyer—a casting call for an upcoming show in our little town, directed by one of the other folks from the Hardbody Experience. Great! What show is it?

“The Crucible”.

Oof. That’s, uh…how do I put this? WILDLY out of my wheelhouse. I haven’t touched, seen, heard word of “The Crucible” since I was in high school, about ten years ago. I know, I know, it’s a classic, but it just doesn’t quite get my blood rolling like some others do. I kind of wrote it off, forwarded the link to my acting friend, Tiffany, and thought maybe I’d just hang around the rehearsal process again.

You can probably guess what followed. Tiffany tried really hard to talk me into auditioning. I’d probably be useful in some sort of role because our town never has enough people auditioning, it’s in the dead of summer when my work schedule is most flexible, it ends two weeks before hunt season begins so it doesn’t interfere with hunting at all, it’ll give me something to look forward to during the cruelest throws of summer…there were many reasons for me to say yes. And yet, I just wasn’t feeling it. But something deep in my gut kept gnawing at me, so I agreed to go to auditions as moral support, to see what it’s all about, and, probably, express my desire to act as helper/stalker/cheerleader person again.

I walked into the theater, and who was there but damn near half of the Hardbody cast. Well, there’s no turning back now. Long story short, I’ve been talked into doing the show. I was incredibly unsure about agreeing to the process, not because I can’t, or don’t want to, or anything like that, just that if my comfort zone is on the east coast of the United States, this was jet flying me to somewhere in the heart of Mongolia. This is part of the reason why I ultimately agreed to give it a shot. I can’t tell you what exactly this is doing for me, but we had our first rehearsal last night and, while I still very much feel out of place, I left the theater very happy I’d agreed to give this whole thing a whirl.

“Yes, and”. I just keep reminding myself to say that to as many opportunities as possible, and hopefully it all works out and/or I learn something along the way. Because I really don’t know what exactly I’m doing out here anyway.