A Night at the Cafetorium

When I was kid, my favorite television show was called Emergency. It followed the work life of two paramedics in Los Angeles. It was an exciting show for me with perilous rescues and dangerous fires and life saving drama. Like a lot of kids, I would mimic what I saw on television when I was playing, which kids still did in my youth. My all-time favorite thing to play with was my Legos. I had a Lego fire station that included a fire engine as well as a paramedic vehicle and an ambulance. I was all set up to recreate Lego rescues and disasters that I saw on television. I remember playing with those Legos for hours at a time. All pretty normal for a young kid back in the day.

The unusual part is that while most kids were pretending to be a paramedic or firefighter or even a doctor when they played like this, I was pretending to be an actor who was playing the part of one of these heroes. I would pretend there was a staged emergency on a movie set and we would have to do several takes to save the people acting as if they were in danger before we got just the right shot. I’m not sure where I got the idea to play this way, but that’s how it was for me.

At that time, I did not have the opportunity to be a part of any kind of stage productions. I’m sure that opportunities existed, but I didn’t really know what theatre was, only television and movies. So, obviously I never asked my parents if I could be involved in such an activity. However, thinking back on it now, I was always performing in some way or other, magic shows, ventriloquist act, puppet shows, really anything where people were watching me pretend to be anything but myself.

It wasn’t until fifth grade that I had an opportunity to be on a stage. My teacher at the time, Mrs. Karlin, produced a Christmas show every year. We practiced several songs and a few dances. There were also some skits. I was asked to do a lip sync to the famous Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas Song. I played the part of Alvin, the trouble maker. We had two performances, one for the school kids and one at night for the parents. Both times our silly chipmunk song got some good laughs and I loved the audience reaction.

This experience led to the desire to be on a stage again. Luckily for me, Tarzana Elementary School produced an annual lip sync show. So, my friend, Danny, and I auditioned with our ventriloquist act. The audition was just a technicality because every kid who wanted to be in the show got in. But, Danny and I worked out a whole act as if this was the most important thing we could possibly do.

The lip sync theme that year was Broadway. Imagine that! This show is where I was first introduced to Frank Loesser, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Meredith Willson, Lerner and Loewe, Jule Styne and Stephen Sondheim. I had heard some of these classic show tunes before at home on Mom’s record player, but they didn’t mean much to me until I saw the numbers the way they were meant to be seen and heard: On a stage. This little show, despite being an elementary school lip sync show, was a true introduction to all the glory, heartbreak and drama that comes with a life in theatre.

I was type cast as Ronnie Howard to lip sync the single greatest song, for obvious reasons, ever written for the stage, GARY, Indiana from The Music Man. I say type cast because, at that time in my life, I was a doppelgänger for a young Ron Howard with my red hair, freckles and a height of 4’2”. My friend Danny was cast to lip sync to Marion the Librarian, also from the Music Man. From the start, I felt an overwhelming sense of competition between, not just Danny and myself, but every kid in the show. Danny’s number had more lines to lip sync to than mine and it irked me to no end.

However, it turns out that Danny was clueless when it came to lip syncing and he did not have any ability to move his body to the beat of the music. Now, you’d think this wouldn’t matter. It’s elementary school. But the teachers running the show were brutal and were taking things very seriously. They eventually felt the need to replace Danny with another kid, Todd Carter, who was a lot more popular than Danny and a lot more talented. I had to console Danny on our walk home from school that afternoon. It was perhaps, still to this day, one of my greatest acting performances ever, as I faked outrage over his humiliation while hiding my secret elation that he was demoted to a humming background guy in a lip sync show.

Eventually, there was more backstage drama. Other kids were asked to give up their featured parts as they either missed too many rehearsals or they just unfortunately stunk as performers. Kids cried. It really is a rough business. I was quickly becoming one of the stars of the show as I was now featured in two additional numbers, Wand’rin Star from Paint Your Wagon and Hernando’s Hideaway from The Pajama Game.

The one-night only performance played to a packed cafetorium, probably upwards of 300 people. The audience was obviously very warm and gracious to us. It was filled with parents and family; what else would they be? Gary, Indiana went very well in my mind, but it wasn’t until my second number that my entire life changed.

I took over the role made famous by Lee Marvin in the movie version of Paint Your Wagon. The song was called Wand’rin Star. Not sure if anyone reading this is familiar with this song from an obscure musical. But tiny little me walked out on stage to Lee Marvin’s voice which was as deep as the lowest point in Death Valley. I opened my mouth to lip sync the first note while the recording produced what sounded like the deepest note ever sung. The entire audience erupted with raucous laughter that lasted throughout most of the rest of the number. I’m pretty sure no one heard more than that first note over the screaming laughter. I didn’t care. I just kept lip syncing. But I also knew very well that I had that audience in the palm of my hand. I never wanted that feeling to end.

After the show, people clambered to see me and shake my hand and congratulate me. My fellow performers pretty much hated me, but the audience adored me. I was a 9-year-old star that night, on top of the world. To say I was hooked is an understatement.

Well, that was a long story to come to the point of how I became a theatre person. I’m sure my story is not really unique and I’m sure you all have a story to tell about how you fell in love with theatre. I would love to read and share your story if you’re willing to post it here. Hope to hear from you.

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Gary S. is your average community theatre geek, residing in the Antelope Valley in Southern California where he participates in community theatre productions once or twice per year. He works a 9-5 job in the medical field. He has the two most brilliant and talented kids. This blog is written simply for his need to write and for his love of theatre.