attempting to act (lyn)

This afternoon I go to theater to see Memphis, a Broadway musical with two friends.  It always amazes me how much talent there is in NYC.  Even the unnamed singers and dancers that are back-up to the key actors are phenomenal.   

Although I could never dance or sing (in Hebrew School choir my friend Vivien asked the teacher if I could please just mouth the words because I threw everyone else off-key), I thought I could act.

When I was about 10, I was the only child actor in a local community play called Dirty Work at the Crossroads; I played Little Nell.  During our last night of dress rehearsal, the play’s villain was carrying Big Nell across the stage and tripped.  Enraged, he dropped Big Nell, quit the play, stormed out of the theater, and sped away on his motorcycle.  I loved the drama of his exit.  But on opening night, the major role of the villain was played by the director, who had to read his lines on stage; there were no understudies.

In sixth grade, I joined Boston Children’s Theater.  One class assignment required “bringing” a favorite person to class.  I channeled Mr. Collins, my social studies teacher, and brought him.  He was funny, youthful, and irreverent.  I don’t think my impersonation did him justice.  When it became too difficult for my mom to drive me to Boston (which was 20 miles each way from where we lived), I had to quit.

But once I got to college, I tried out for (and performed in) some plays.   A group of us created what we thought was a brilliant piece of improv theater.  We called the play FUBAR (which cleverly stood for Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition).  We costumed ourselves in tie-dyed one-piece long johns.  We looked absurd, but maybe that was the point. 

Here’s a photo from February 1973. 

I look at it and think, I want to be thin like that again.  I was probably about 117 pounds or so, and wonder now if it’s possible to even reach that weight.  But even if I can, is that I good weight for me?  Probably not.  My face would look gaunt.  But I did like the way it looked then.

I also took an acting class.  It was my lowest grade at Tufts.  That, plus my inability to ever get a starring role, led me to the belief that I did not have enough talent to be an actor.  But sometimes, still, I wonder.  After all, when I was very young, I could cry real tears on cue, which did allow me to think for many years that I possessed a real skill.