My Favorite Things - III

Last night after the final bows for White Christmas at the Town Hall Arts Center in Littleton, Katherine and I waited in the reception room for Christian to emerge from the dressing room. There was a table in the center of the room filled with platters from Whole Foods. I picked up one roundish thing with a toothpick sticking out of it that I took for a fancily peeled radish. It turned out to be a ball of inedible goat cheese that I discreetly disgorged into a napkin and placed in the trash. There was another table in the corner with a volunteer selling wine, beer, and the like. For those of us either too cheap or too impatient to wait in line for the drinks there was also a punch bowl filled with a rusty colored liquid. I filled a plastic cup and took a sip. Sure enough, it was a perfect pairing for the cheese ball I rid myself of a few minutes before.

The cast slowly filtered out to the hugs of friends and family waiting to congratulate them. We kept saying "good job" or "you were great" as certain recognizable players filed by and they kept answering "Thank you. Thank you very much." Have you ever noticed that performers almost always give you that "Thank you. Thank you very much" response when congratulated. They must teach that in beginning acting classes.

We congratulated the guy who played Bob Wallace and gave him a "great job", even though I would rather have heard Chris sing those songs. (That's the only thing that ever goes wrong when I watch Chris do a show. I always think the show would be better if he did every song. I'm sure the parents of the Bob Wallace portrayer felt the same way, but they probably aren't as objective as I am.)

Th female leads came out looking smaller in real life than they did on stage. I wanted to tell Ellie Schwartz, the little girl who played Susan Waverly, how impressed I was by her. She wasn't just cute; she was an actress.

There was a black guy in the ensemble who moved wonderfully. I saw him come out of the doors, but I didn't feel like breaking through the mobs of well wishers to give him a personal thumbs up.

Chris finally came out. Just a few minutes before he had been dressed as Santa Claus for the final rendition of "White Chritmas." Now he was his usual self in jeans, sweatshirt, and a turned around baseball cap. All the other cast members were still a little on stage--in character--when they emerged, with maybe traces of make-up here or there. Chris looked and acted like he had been there before, like a receiver who simply hands the ball to the referee whenever he gets into the endzone.

We hugged and gave him a quick review: "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing" and "I Love a Piano" were the two best numbers in the show; he was the best one in his row; the female voices were a little weak, but they were great on stage; etc., etc..

It was all so familiar.

We've been waiting for Chris to "come out from backstage" ever since he was in junior high. We've waited for him after a performance of Pirates of Penzance at Deer Creek. We waited for him after performances at the old Bonfils Theater (now the Tattered Cover) in the Lyric Opera Society's productions of Gilbert and Sullivan. We've waited for him at Disney and at Elitches

We have also waited for Nate after performances at Elitches, or The Comedy Sports, or the PIT in Manhattan, or MGM Studios at Disney.

We've waited for Franny after her starring role as Miss Mary in Green Mountain Elementary's end of the year pageant. We've waited for her after a drama camp in Grand Lake. And we've waited for her every night of her performance as Polly in Crazy for You.

I was reminded last night that waiting to congratulate my kids after a performance is one of my favorite things. I can't think of anything that has given me more pleasure than reveling in their performances. I mean, going out for a drink with Chris after his performance in I Love a Piano at DCTC remains one of the great moments of my life.

I especially loved the wait at Green Mountain before they remodeled the school. Family and friends would congregate in the cafeteria under the fish wall and wait for that evening's cast to come out the door by the old tech arts department. There was plenty of room to hang out in comfort and plenty of time to go through joyous post mortems with everyone involved. (That comfortable waiting ambiance came to a crashing halt after they remodeled the school. Now, everyone waits in the hall leading from the theater entrance past the administration offices. It is too crowded and hectic. We always beat a fast retreat after shows done in the new theater.)

I remember after opening night of South Pacific how Sybil took Nate by his lapels and pushed him up against the wall. "WHY DIDN'T YOU DO IT THAT WAY AT DRESS?" she yelled. That was Sybil's way of giving high praise.

I remember the pride I felt every night after You Can't Take It With You because both Chris and Nate were brilliant.

My most memorable waiting took place after seeing Christian in Wind in the Willows, his first show at Mesa. Franny and Kathie and I kept looking at each other throughout the entire show with the same things on our minds: "God, he is as good as we thought he was all along!" It was a great moment.

Last night in downtown Littleton brought all that back. White Christmas is a good show with some genuinely funny moments: the train ride rendition of "Snow" stopped the show. It runs through Christmas (the theater is dark Monday through Wednesday).