In the fourth grade, I owned an Alvin and the Chipmunks album. You know, the record kind that you listen to on an actual player.
I knew all the songs, word for word, note by note, and I spent my free moments singing them in the front entry way of our home, bumpy dark tile below my feet and adoring fans inside my imagination. Despite having never seen Arthur or Chariots of Fire or Rocky then, I could certainly belt out the themes from the first two and "Eye of the Tiger" from the last. And, when auditions opened for the play Annie at our high school, I just knew - I knew - that I was brave enough to try and perfect enough to be an orphan.
One teeny tiny problem - when a young girl of freckles and mousey brown hair learns to sing with Alvin, she is sadly not in the same range as Annie! Thus, my version of "Tomorrow" did not make the cut. My friend Sara was Annie. My friend Holly was Molly (the part I really wanted). And I cried in the girls' bathroom when my name was missing from the poster.
My acting aspirations ended then and there. In fourth grade.
*fast forward a couple few decades*
A student I know from Hebron Theater fame hands me an envelope. It invites me to participate in the spring improv show. I look at him, thinking he only sees me as that teacher who fangirls the theater department via twitter. I ask, "Are you sure?"
He smirks. "Come on! You'll be great!"
I fretted for approximately a month. Actually, I mostly forgot about it with all the other spring chaos, and then I remembered and panicked! I would do this. I would do this. I would do this.
At rehearsal, I laughed and laughed and laughed. These kids were GOOD. And as you may know, my laugh is a little loud. Ok, there's truly no volume button on it, and I couldn't contain myself. This, however, was only a preview of the real thing.
Show time. I put on my headband and flashed my peace sign, ready for the Hippies vs Hipsters showdown. Butterflies morphed into T-Rexes in my stomach when Ari called me to the stage. Then, "Rhonda!" and we were off.
Those improv kids, known as Wingin' It, were beyond incredible. They created bizzaro and hilarious scenes on the fly. They used ulterior definitions of words and phrases guaranteed to surprise the audience. They fell to the floor and tackled goats and performed whatever else their bodies found funny. They even concluded the night singing in three part harmony! It was an absolute riot, and I am thrilled to have played a small role.
That was my stage debut! What more could a girl ask for? I hope to lend a hand again in the future, if they'll have me. I'll know to bring my voice down a few octaves next time. And maybe, next time, they'll let me sing!
Nah... Better not.
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| Just like mine, radio dial and all! |
One teeny tiny problem - when a young girl of freckles and mousey brown hair learns to sing with Alvin, she is sadly not in the same range as Annie! Thus, my version of "Tomorrow" did not make the cut. My friend Sara was Annie. My friend Holly was Molly (the part I really wanted). And I cried in the girls' bathroom when my name was missing from the poster.
My acting aspirations ended then and there. In fourth grade.
*fast forward a couple few decades*
A student I know from Hebron Theater fame hands me an envelope. It invites me to participate in the spring improv show. I look at him, thinking he only sees me as that teacher who fangirls the theater department via twitter. I ask, "Are you sure?"
He smirks. "Come on! You'll be great!"
I fretted for approximately a month. Actually, I mostly forgot about it with all the other spring chaos, and then I remembered and panicked! I would do this. I would do this. I would do this.
At rehearsal, I laughed and laughed and laughed. These kids were GOOD. And as you may know, my laugh is a little loud. Ok, there's truly no volume button on it, and I couldn't contain myself. This, however, was only a preview of the real thing.
Show time. I put on my headband and flashed my peace sign, ready for the Hippies vs Hipsters showdown. Butterflies morphed into T-Rexes in my stomach when Ari called me to the stage. Then, "Rhonda!" and we were off.
Those improv kids, known as Wingin' It, were beyond incredible. They created bizzaro and hilarious scenes on the fly. They used ulterior definitions of words and phrases guaranteed to surprise the audience. They fell to the floor and tackled goats and performed whatever else their bodies found funny. They even concluded the night singing in three part harmony! It was an absolute riot, and I am thrilled to have played a small role.
That was my stage debut! What more could a girl ask for? I hope to lend a hand again in the future, if they'll have me. I'll know to bring my voice down a few octaves next time. And maybe, next time, they'll let me sing!
Nah... Better not.
I had the URBAN CHIPMUNK album, and I can't listen to "Mama, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys" without replacing "Cowboys" with "Chipmunks." I'm sorry I missed your stage debut, and I'm actively searching YouTube for clips of the performance!
ReplyDeleteYou have got to teach me one day how you seamlessly and smoothly tie in two complete different events with no effort.
ReplyDeleteI remember sitting in your classroom and listening to you talk and going where in the world is she going with this and then BOOOOOOOOMMMMM you connect it back to the point, while all the while keeping the reader entertained and along for the ride.
Your talent is not limited to the pages of books, you are truly a THESPIAN (of the improv nature apparently).