We had our first rehearsals in the cafeteria/auditorium at Diamond Fork Junior High (DFJHS). A more sterile, less exciting room I have never seen. There was something about the tile floor and the long cafeteria tables that shouted: this isn't a musical rehearsal! This is where maniacs, also known as junior high school students, eat! I kept getting the urge to don some plastic gloves and wipe down the table's surfaces.
We gathered together and I, as a minor lead, was asked to come sit on the long, wide stairs that lead up to the stage. Yes, I was wearing my lucky high tops. They provided a little comfort to me. Was I ready for this?
I admit, I loved being asked to sit up there. Gathering with all the 'in-crowd' was highly satisfying. Caitlyn, a friend of mine from my years as a teacher in Spanish Fork Youtheater, snuggled up to me and told me she loved me several times. She was playing Prudy's, I mean my daughter Penny. I admit, Caitlyn touched me a lot and it kind of freaked me out. But I figured it was better than her barking out a scornful laugh and telling me she was horrified that I'd play her mother. So I was slightly mauled with hugs. Ah well. Note to self: shower and brush your teeth before rehearsal.
The director and the assistant directors spoke to us, though I don't remember the order or what they said. We were given a sheet of rules, and I think we were asked to sign something. Again, whatever that something was, I don't remember. We were introduced to the other production staff members, some whom I knew, some I didn't. Everyone looked like upbeat, happy, excited folk, so I was upbeat, happy, and excited myself. I was a lead! (I will mention this often. It was a huge deal for me. Huge.)
There seemed to be an enormous amount of teenagers in that auditorium. Some had parents with them. Some of the kids I knew, many I didn't. And those I knew were very huggy. I began to realize during the rehearsal schedule something I'd forgotten. Being in a play means you need to follow the unwritten rule: you must hug and be hugged.
Again, I was just really amazed at the mass of teenagers, more girls than boys, of course. I didn't realize at the time that our numbers would dwindle dramatically. (Pun!) The rehearsal schedule was grueling and some people just couldn't do it. I also noticed that many of the women who'd read and sung for the part of Velma didn't come to be in the Ensemble. I thought that was kind of lame. Would I have done that had I not been cast as Prudy? I didn't think so at the time. Now--I'm not so sure. It is a lot of work and if I didn't have a line at all... Well, I can't say. I guess it would depend on other factors, such as: who else of my new-found "Hairspray" friends was in the cast, was my son in the cast, what the show was. I don't think I'd settle for being a nun in "Sound of Music" for instance. But that might change. I can't say for sure.
The feeling in the room: intense, excited, hopeful. We all sort of looked a little glassy-eyed, at least that's how it appeared to me. I hadn't been in a show in so long, I didn't recognize the reality that these people, those who stayed, would become family. Were more seasoned performers sizing me up to see if I would make a good friend/mother/actress? I did no sizing up of my own. I just sat there in my high-tops, greeting friends, smiling a lot, and nursing some inner freaking outishness.
We were given some instructions about the importance of being on time, signing in when we get to the rehearsal, and then we dispersed. I admit, I was a little wary. This was becoming more and more real. I was already beginning to panic about learning my lines, though there were relatively few. My memorization skills stink, always have.
But the feeling wouldn't leave: I'm back. I'm really back. And yes, I'll say it again--I was a lead!
Keep playing! (I am, so you can, too.)
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