Oh My Goodness! Oh My Goodness!

You guys may not know this, but I come from a "show business" family. My grandpa was an actor in Hollywood before he settled down for family life. My mom is a gifted singer who's acted in quite a few stage performances. My dad owned and operated a night-club in San Francisco called the On Broadway Theater. My sister did improv in college.

Me? I rode horses. I played sports. I did school. I worked in Human Resources.

I was kind of the odd-man-out.

My mom sang a lot at our church while I was growing up. I would show an interest and she and my grandpa would spend hours working with me for the performance.

Game day would come. Mom and I would step up to sing. She would open her mouth and the sound of angels would fill the chapel.

I would break into a cold sweat, start crying and run. Literally, run out of church while mom finished her (now) solo piece.

I have TERRIBLE stage fright.

So, a few months ago, my sister-in-law mentioned that the local theater would be doing a production of Annie. She suggested her daughter and Lexi might like to try out for the roles of orphans.

When audition time rolled around, we got down to business. We sang "Tomorrow" all day, every day. We sang in the car. In the shower. At the table. Lexi was ready.

And then, the musical director suggested I audition.

Bahahahahaha!

Um. Hell no.

She explained that unless the parent of the child were to audition, the child would have to audition on their own. In a big room, under bright lights, in front of complete strangers. ALL. ALONE.

"Plus", she explained, "They could always use bodies for chorus numbers."

I thought about it. And I quickly dismissed the idea. Lexi has no stage fright. Not an ounce. She wouldn't need me.

And then. My friend (talented, gifted composer and pianist) called me on the morning of auditions.

"So, are you going to audition?"

"Um. No."

"Yes you are."

"No."

"Yes. Get over here. You're singing."

"Fine. But I'm not getting dressed.  Or brushing my hair. I will brush my teeth though."

"Fine. I'm not putting a bra on."

"Good."

"Great."

She played; I sang.

That night we all showed up to auditions. The kids sang. WE sang.

And we got called back.

Now, this simple plot to get our little ones involved in the arts morphed into this all-consuming spectacle.

So, we practiced some more. And we conspired about outfits and tone and parts.

What are they looking for? What are you doing to prepare? Have you heard anything? Did you sleep last night?

We went to call backs. And we sang. And we read lines. We laughed and cheered each other on.

We then waited the longest 24 hours of our lives. We admittedly filled our day with mindless tasks and continual milling while we waited for the official cast list.

Finally. FINALLY! The precious list arrived.

Lexi was cast as a chorus orphan. Yay, Lexi.

I was cast as Grace.

You know, Mr. Warbucks personal assistant. Like, a fairly substantial role.

Exactly. At least they can adapt the role for my non-dancing self.

Totally unexpected.

I'm shocked. I'm scared. I'm nervous. I'm excited.

I've never acted. Or danced. I sure hope I don't let down the entire cast, crew and director.

I think this'll get me over the whole stage fright thing, though.