My Real Memoir
I stood in the dark one final time, and said, “Look, if you’re there, just cough or something.” As always, there was no answer. I was angry at God for not existing (although I wouldn’t admit it). Angry because somewhere along the line I’d gone from wondering whether he existed, to wanting–maybe even needing–him to. No characterless force could tell me what my life was “for.” Only an actual Creator could do that. Still, the fact that I hungered for some exotic, ineffable food didn’t mean it actually existed. Did it?
The next day, I found my Grandma Johnie’s disintegrating childhood Bible in a packing box, and skimmed through its brittle pages. Maybe I’d stumble on some of the quotes I’d loved in Godspell or in that little Sayings of Jesus book. If so, I’d finally see them in context. If anyone had the answers, I thought, it was him. But I never found the quotes.
Once again, I was yanked out of my morbidity by a show. Rich, the star of my musical The New Renaissance Review, was also a director, and we’d struck a deal. He’d recreate my signature character Peter Pratfall, if I’d be Teddy the art teacher at a Scottish girl’s school in his show.
Rehearsals for The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie started a week after my production closed. Once again, what began as an obligation turned into an unexpected pleasure. There were two reasons:
The first was Kate, who played the role made famous on-screen by Maggie Smith. Kate was the most gifted actor I’d ever worked with. She didn’t “perform” Jean Brodie, she was Jean Brodie. She’d rage or banter with me, her ex-lover Teddy, and I’d have no choice but to react. Working with her was like riding a roller coaster; all I had to do was lean in and hold on!
The second was Angelica, “Jelli,” whose character Sandy models for and sleeps with my character Teddy. Jelli was girl-next-door pretty, with flashing eyes and butter-smooth skin. Theoretically topless in the painting scenes, she wore skin-colored pasties that fell off during every performance. She’d wink as I used my body to block her from the audience’s view. We flirted outrageously, but kept it at that.
Until the cast party. Happily-buzzed, we found a dark corner and made out like hormonal teenagers. Which, at twenty, Jelli basically was. And which I would be until, well, forever. “This is just for fun, OK?” she put me on notice. “I’m married to my career.”
Later that night, I met a tall, classy blonde named Erica. She’d seen my shows and wanted to meet me. She was an athlete whose brain was as buff as her body. Conversation flowed, and soon we were laughing and touching. Just before she left, she kissed me. Not with a “this is just for fun” kiss, but an “I’m attainable” kiss.
I drove home in a haze of happiness. I’d had heady doses of my two favorite drugs, creativity and sex. Life was good. Better than good. It was perfect! I had no idea I was about to face…
The worst storm of my life.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Oh, why life must go like that?
Hopefully it can also turn from bad to good in an instant sometimes.
It can indeed, Maria.
Una storia interessante, viviamo tutti in equilibrio cercando una strada, giusta per noi… prima che arrivi la tempesta.
Verissimo, Paola.
Oh wow, what a cliff hanger and made more intense for I know I am not reading fiction! The worst storms are always so unexpected!
Thank you for sharing your story with all of us.
My privilege, Carolyn, my passion, really. It’s a journey of rediscovery for me and, I hope, one of reflection for others.
😊
How was the procedure, Mitch? Are you ok?
I’m due to have the ablation procedure in a couple of weeks. Thanks for asking.
I’ll await for your update then! 🫠
You were a busy man Mitch;)
Often frantically so, Randy, but yes, I was.
hello cora where are you when will you correct the writing
Of course, a storm had to follow, right? Life B. C. is NOT perfect, no matter how it feels. And you know that … now. I suspect you’re like me, looking back on the letdowns with gratitude, because now we know what real joy is. (Oops, was that a spoiler alert? 😏)
I couldn’t agree more, Annie. Plenty of trials have found their way into my life since my conversion, but my soul finds rest in Him it never knew before.
So appreciate your honesty, Mitch. You haven’t glossed over the “before” part of your story or quickly summarized your way into the “after” portion. Those who struggle with their own doubts and favorite drugs can see what the rise of hope looks like.
Thank you, Nancy. Just keepin’ it real, as an earlier generation used to say.
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Always engaging!
Thanks, Pete!
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