We Interrupt This Program...
I was all set to write a really thought-provoking (hey, it could happen) post in response to Memarie Lane's comment on yesterday's blog entry. She commented on the picture of my sheet music and it struck me that I have this chapter in my life that no one knows anything about.
Once upon a time, I was an actress and a singer. I mean, for whole years of my life, that was my passion. I performed all through high-school and then all through college, doing both musical revues and dramatic interpretation of literature. I sang in church all the time. We had a little Friday night band (the Friday Night Watch Band --how clever were we?) that used to get together and play music and sing and we kept that up until I was about 25 or so. The basis for my entire circle of friends in college was found in that realm.
And I don't know anyone anymore (with the possible exception of my parents) who knew me back then.
It's kind of a shocking thing to realize, actually. Even my HUSBAND never saw me perform. It's like it never happened --I don't even think I have any pictures. There are a few videotapes floating about but I don't have any of them.
So, I was going to write about all that and ask if y'all think that the dimensions of us that we think of as core elements of our personalities can simply go away like that and just not matter anymore? And where do they go exactly? Maybe in my case, they evolved into singing lullabies and playing games of princesses and dress-up... I don't know.
And then I was going to talk about the continuing excavation of Clutter Run Amok, Perchance (C.R.A.P.) underway in my living room and yak, yak, yak... but I can't go into all that now because my parents called and they are coming to New York.
ON THURSDAY!!! As in, day after tomorrow!
I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait! Yeehaw!
But, MERCY, have I got a lot to do before they get here!!!
Once upon a time, I was an actress and a singer. I mean, for whole years of my life, that was my passion. I performed all through high-school and then all through college, doing both musical revues and dramatic interpretation of literature. I sang in church all the time. We had a little Friday night band (the Friday Night Watch Band --how clever were we?) that used to get together and play music and sing and we kept that up until I was about 25 or so. The basis for my entire circle of friends in college was found in that realm.
And I don't know anyone anymore (with the possible exception of my parents) who knew me back then.
It's kind of a shocking thing to realize, actually. Even my HUSBAND never saw me perform. It's like it never happened --I don't even think I have any pictures. There are a few videotapes floating about but I don't have any of them.
So, I was going to write about all that and ask if y'all think that the dimensions of us that we think of as core elements of our personalities can simply go away like that and just not matter anymore? And where do they go exactly? Maybe in my case, they evolved into singing lullabies and playing games of princesses and dress-up... I don't know.
And then I was going to talk about the continuing excavation of Clutter Run Amok, Perchance (C.R.A.P.) underway in my living room and yak, yak, yak... but I can't go into all that now because my parents called and they are coming to New York.
ON THURSDAY!!! As in, day after tomorrow!
I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait! Yeehaw!
But, MERCY, have I got a lot to do before they get here!!!
Comments
Have fun!
Sometimes I think we just grow up a little from our more unrealistic dreams, and sometimes I think we incorporate them into other things. But I think some of us just put them away for a time and bring them back out after the kids are grown. I've seen a lot of middle aged people suddenly busting out of nowhere with talents no one knew they had. I always figured that if I do ever write a book I need to live life first to do so with any amount of respectability.
But then I also wonder sometimes about people like the guy who invented the Pringles can and was buried in one. You have to wonder if that's really the legacy he was going for.
I tell my kids about my theatah days. They look at me like I'm talking about riding Ken Kesey's bus. I'm a mommy, not a leading lady.
I don't know where those days go when they're gone. I'm glad you had them, though, because I'm sure they add up with all of your other previous passions to make you who you are.
You're right, though...looking back at that now, I was going to win an Emmy and an Oscar and a Grammy and a Tony all by the time I was 30. I guess that never happened. I still miss the spotlight sometimes, but I settle for church choir and karaoke. It just doesn't seem as important anymore, but it certainly is part of what made me who I am.
The Pringles guy was buried in a Pringles can? Was he cremated, or was it a really huge can of Pringles?
(No, no, I'm kidding, I'm KIDDING! Barb? Barb?? Come back, Barb!)
I'm glad YOUR mama is coming to see you. YAY!
I may not be commenting much, but I am thinking of you!