Death Be Not Alone

Talk about walking a tightrope. As a playwright, it’s imperative that I tell a good story. It must be open and honest and true. It has to be realistic as I’ve come to paint that life tapestry in my mind. But is my audience ready for such a truthful adaptation about their own final demise?

Statistically speaking, many folks in the audience are going to be faced with their own reality acted out up there on the stage. Some might become very upset. Others could feel pain and anguish because I’ve opened up old wounds once again.

All of this theatrical honesty could threaten to turn the audience against me. It might provoke some into anger and outrage at the audacity of sharing such a personal storyline. Here is reality staring them back in the face. How are they going to react? How will they take this honest portrayal of their parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, friends, neighbors and, perhaps, themselves…as they are all about to die? That’s my dilemma and the challenge facing my newest play.

The play is called ‘The Last Sentinel’ and it joins my other plays that have tried to examine snippets of real life. The storyline is simple enough. Four old women in a nursing home are facing the end of their lives. That probably sounds a bit crass but it succinctly describes the premise of this play. It’s about death, dying, denial, and acceptance.

We‘re all going to face it. Or perhaps we’ve seen others face it recently. I’m talking about the death of people we know no matter if they’re close to us or not. Perhaps these are people we’ve known all of our lives or a part of it and now it’s time for them to go.

Everyone handles his or her own end of life differently. Some are in total denial until they take their last breath. Others gather family and friends around them for a final good-bye. I don’t think anyone really knows how they’re going to handle that situation until faced with it themselves.

So why would I want to write a play about old folks facing their demise and some not handling it well? For laughs, of course. And to explore a seldom discussed reality facing all of us.

I honestly can’t remember where the idea came from. This play was one of six story outlines that I vomited out (sorry but it does describe the sudden uncontrollable retching out of ideas from my brain) in one overly caffeinated afternoon when the ideas started flowing non-stop and I began typing away furiously to capture them before they slipped out of my collective consciousness.

I’ve been there at the end with my parents, Sharon’s parents, aunts, uncles, and assorted acquaintances. It’s hit home but it really hasn’t. I think when others my own age or closer to me start to pass then it will hit home a lot harder.

So I wanted to write an honest play about death and dying but also to get some chuckles in at the same time. I knew right from the start that my four old women would be a wonderful menagerie of quips, comments, complaints, statements and sometimes outrageous antidotes for reality. They would reflect many older folks I’ve known over the years.

So in the story, simply stated, the women make a pact to stick together and be there for one another until the end. It’s an agreement they struggle to keep. They nag at one another and yet show love and compassion at the same time. They argue about nothing and still shore up sagging feelings while doing so. They all face the inevitable in different ways and reveal to the audience their true colors. They are irritable, persnickety and remind all of us of people we know, knew or want to forget. But in the end, I hope they represent a realistic portrait of individuals facing that ultimate test in life.

‘The Last Sentinel’ is warm and engaging. It is outrageous and funny. But I hope mostly it is a celebration of the human spirit when it is needed the most. The play isn’t a melodrama or a tragedy or a maudlin check-off of someone’s life. Instead it is a rich tapestry of life recaptured, the power of friendship and self-actualization celebrating life. It will be engaging, truthful and a lot of laughs. What better way to remember someone’s final good-bye than with a smile on your face.

Oh, and the music will be pretty neat too.

August of 2019 is the date set for the premiere of ‘The Last Sentinel’ at the Steeple Center in Rosemount, Minnesota

Sage Taught Me Well

Watching her perform on stage I was struck by the fact that this woman began as just a figment of my imagination. I created this old hippie and made up the storyline that was starting to unfold in front of a packed house. All those voices heard inside my head so long ago were now being repeated by actors mimicking my imagined characters.

‘Riot at Sage Corner’ was coming alive in an old converted church after a brief four weeks of rehearsals. That was scary and even more unnerving than I had expected it to be as a first time produced playwright.

Fortunately, Sage was being played by an accomplished actress who had the role down pat. The rest of the cast was comprised of great actors whose limited time on stage hadn’t diminished their enthusiasm or acting abilities. There was a minimalistic set design that defined the area but didn’t distract from the action taking place. The set designers had provided a wonderful environ-ment in which to create a fun and entertaining story.

But most importantly (from granted, a self-serving point of view) it provided invaluable lessons for me as a playwright. Writing novels is an entirely different gladiator contest from drafting a play. Playwriting was no longer a solitary venture for me; a journey inside my head. Instead my playwriting was meant to be consumed by other creative types and ultimately the general public.

The lessons learned were easy to list and yet hard to define. This summer I had to learn team work, the idiosyncrasies of small town America, clashing and compromising personalities and life in Community Theater.

It meant discounting ingrained prejudices for my ‘baby’ and the anguish of ‘letting go.’ It’s almost akin to ‘killing your babies’ which in the world of writing is defined as editing your work despite the blood, sweat and tears that came with its creation. My limited take on the process of play production had to give way to the reality of group consensus and the director’s vision.

It meant knowing the venue and recognizing the limits of Community Theater as compared to a professional theatrical venture. Knowing the production staff meant recognizing their boundless enthusiasm but also the limitations of finances, support staff and physical venues.

As important to the playwright as working with producers was, it also meant sharing ones vision with the director. The director has to be a team-leader, a cheerleader, a teacher and a counselor. I can see now that having a voice in casting the actors ingratiates the playwright into the creative process as does the ability to make comments during the rehearsals. There must be a shared vision for your story. It can’t just be the director’s next gig.

Storytelling is the same recipe no matter what the format. The storyline must be engaging from the very start. Act one; Scene One must grab the audience’s attention. The second scene must hold that attention and by the third scene it’s ‘go for broke.’ Each scene must take the action/conflict/tension/suspense to the next level. Grab the audience by their collective consciousness and never let go. Every scene is important. Every actor is important.

The actors portraying your characters must be believable and realistic. The audience must care about them even if they dislike them in the process. If the audience doesn’t care then you’ve lost the battle before it even began. The common goal for all is entertaining story-telling.

As a playwright the lessons are very clear and indisputable. Despite its folky façade, the creative/entertainment industry is not known for its warm feelings and caring concern. It isn’t a basket of puppies or kittens. Instead the business is rife with insecurity, jealousy and sabotage. That doesn’t mean there aren’t clusters of very talented people brought together for a common cause or story to tell.

We were fortunate enough to be sold out both evenings. I give full credit to my wife, Sharon, and her brilliant marketing acumen for filling the house.

‘Riot at Sage Corner’ provided me an invaluable lesson in the theater. My learning curve was on an accelerated thrust that could only be described as ‘rocket to the moon.’ Where it takes me next is still up for grabs. On reflection, I loved the process, hated the uncertainty and was thrilled with the results.

Many people have asked…and yes, there is another play concept that I’ve had mulling around in my brain for some time now. The storyline encompasses universal themes such as the challenges of growing old and the culmination of a lifetime of living. I would describe it as a lighthearted drama with some serious moments.

Oh, and there’s original music too.

A Waiter with Attitude

I was admonished by my wife to be a team player from the very start. As a card-carrying introvert and self-professed’ uncomfortable in crowds’-kind of person, it was a challenge to rise to the task. But I did so and soon found myself as an obnoxious waiter at the L’Ambrosia Luncheria. It seemed a small price to pay for the generous opportunity that RAAC (Rosemount Area ArtsCouncil) had given me in agreeing to produce my play ‘Riot at Sage Corner’ in the near future. So I accepted their offer of the role and agreed to became a waiter…albeit one with attitude. I wanted to have a little fun with the role.

My first taste of the theater was a little community theater in my old neighborhood of Highland Park. It was called the Edith Bush Little Theater. I have vague memories of some date nights there and the thrill of the story-telling experience.

Years later, in the 70’s, I earned my acting chops at the Chattanooga Little Theater in Tennessee. That seemed like small potatoes compared to what I had to agree to now. I would be working with a bunch of seniors who hadn’t been on stage since their high school or college years if ever at all. Fortunately for all of us what they lacked in experience was more than made up for with their unbridled enthusiasm.

Back in high school, my real world experience in the restaurant business lasted all of three weeks. I thought it would be easy work after school to waiter at a small restaurant in Saint Paul. It was hard work and quickly began to cut into my paper route schedule and homework. It also meant being nice to smart-ass kids who piled into the restaurant just lounge around and harass the wait staff.

Now I found myself back in black pants and a white shirt and dealing with some old matrons and ditzy women who couldn’t distinguish a salad fork from a soup spoon. We had a condensed three weeks of rehearsals and then the performance. Unfortunately, our venue hadn’t had its air-conditioning installed yet. So it was the heat not nerves that soiled our clothes and ran beads of sweat down our cheeks. But it was all good. Everyone had a great time performing and the audience was very supportive and appreciative.

The other seniors like myself took their roles very seriously. We all felt a collective love of the theater and the whole theatrical experience; abet a small one, but one nonetheless. It took a lot of courage for some of these women to get up in front of an audience of strangers to perform a role so unlike their real life one. It was a lot of fun and a real privilege to work alongside of them in the storytelling process.

Maya, my eldest granddaughter was visiting us for a week and she was in the audience.

At the end of our play I was asked to talk about my own upcoming production of ‘Riot at Sage Corner’ which is set for performance on August 25^th and 26^th. I won’t be acting in that play but I’ll certainly be cheering the actors on and wondering what I’ve gotten into on the other side of the spoken word.