My Theater Debut: The Show Went On!

The show went on for four performances, and I loved every minute.

The Dixie Swim Club is the story of five friends from a college swim team who spend a weekend each August on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I played the part of Jeri Neal McFeeley, described in the script book as “a ditzy ray of sunshine.”

In the photo above, I arrive at the beach house eight months pregnant. This shocks my buddies because the last time they saw me, I was a nun.

I really shake up the weekend by going into labor. Sheree, our team captain in the striped shirt, takes control of the situation.

Scene Two opens five years later. The lawyer, our friend Dinah, is coaching me for job interviews, without much luck.

A few minutes later, I model the interview dress Mama made for me. It gets a fast thumbs down from the other girls. Dinah says I look like “an upholstered footstool.”

Then I try on a dress that Lexie, the sexpot in the show, thinks might work for my interviews. Vernadette (wearing a clown suit and also the show’s real director, Lisa Woodward) announces I look like a “hooker with a stolen handbag.”

In Scene One of Act Two, I’m newly married to a younger man. I have to fuss at Brice because he wants to talk sexy on the phone. I’m worried one of the girls might hear (and one does, much to my embarrassment). Here I am below, later in the scene, pondering the hurricane that is quickly brewing off the Outer Banks.

In the last scene, with one of our five beloved friends now dead, we gaze at the ocean from the cottage window. We’re 77! Lexie, never one to give into aging, dons a blonde wig.

I messed up some lines, but not too many, and I did not trip, faint, or spill the martini glass of milk Sheree hands me after I arrive pregnant. I’m not headed to Broadway, but I received lots of compliments. Thanks, everybody!

And thanks to all of your for your enthusiasm, to Cliff and my friend Bernie for their encouragement, to my friends who came to the show, and to the cast and crew of The Dixie Swim Club. Hats off to Lisa, our director;  Debbie, our stage and sound manager (below); and Bob, our producer.

I’m going to miss Jeri Neal and the other colorful characters. I’ve saved the sticker from my dressing room chair, the pink bathrobe and the frog slippers, and an ocean full of happy memories.

My Theater Debut: The Elephant Purse

 

In our production of The Dixie Swim Club, I jerk this purse off my shoulder and slam it to the ground. How fun is that? To get to be mad, real mad, and act on it by doing something we aren’t supposed to do in real life.

At rehearsal, I’ve found myself starting to tug on the shoulder straps in anticipation of the line that infuriates me. I want to be ready to throw that purse!

No good. I can’t react until it actually happens. I have to wait until the character says the line, until she announces that I look like a “A hooker with a stolen handbag.”

Ah. Another life lesson from the stage. Don’t spend your days worrying about things yet to come. Don’t react until it happens. Don’t borrow trouble.

I’m pretty much in the worrier category. Not off the charts, but firmly on that side. And worrying can make you miserable.

The non-worriers are no help. They say things like “Why worry? You can’t change what’s to come.”

Their words make me worry more.

I don’t know what the secret is to not worrying. I googled, “How not to worry” and found lots of articles. Here’s a good one from the Huffington Post that includes a powerful quote from Corrie Ten Boon: “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorry. It empties today of its strength.”

In recent years, I’ve started to worry a bit less. The wisdom of menopause? A new found courage? Maybe.

But I still worry. I still tug on those shoulder straps before the line is delivered

What about you? Do you worry more or less than you did years ago? Any tips for the rest of us?

 

If you’re local, here’ s the link to the Orange Community Players website.  Don’t worry. It’s easy to buy your tickets online. Come watch me throw that elephant purse!

My Theater Debut: Costumes!

The play is gearing up! Twelve days until opening night. I’ve enjoyed every minute. And since I love clothes, I’ve had a great time with my costumes.

Our director Lisa has a keen eye. She found the eighties-style maternity dress (above) at a local thrift shop. It’s been fun to be pregnant again with the help of the pillow.

In the final scene, I’m seventy-seven years old. Artistic and spunky, my character, Jeri Neal McFeeley, keeps up her sense of style. I went to My Secret Closet, a consignment shop, to find her a jacket to wear.

I came home with a jacket and  a necklace to match!

I also picked up a bracelet for Scene Three, when Jeri Neal, newly married, sports a black and white top with a black miniskirt. At the start of the scene, she flirts with her husband on the phone. “You sound like a mother speaking to a child,” Lisa said. “You need a sexier voice.”

That evening I practiced on Cliff. “Is this real or the play?” he asked.

In the last few weeks, I’ve had trouble deciding, too, when I’m Jeri Neal and when I’m my regular self. I’ll miss her terribly when the show is over.

But that’s a problem for later. Right now, back to the script for more studying! I’m still messing up some lines. While I study, I might just sport the frog slippers that Jeri Neal wears with her pink polka dot bathrobe (peeking out from beneath the maternity dress at the top).

For anyone local, here’s the link to Orange Community Players with info on how to buy tickets. I’d love to see you at the show!

My Theater Debut: Stage Lessons

 

Rehearsals of The Dixie Swim Club are in full swing! Since I first landed the part, I’m having a blast and have learned lots about life on stage from Lisa, our director and Debbie, our stage manager.

• Don’t turn your back to the audience.
• Don’t stroll or meander across the stage. Every move is deliberate.
• Don’t block another actor.
• Don’t cover your face.

I realized these lessons can apply to life off stage, too.

• Don’t hide yourself away.
• Live with intention.
• Value others.
• Practice boldness.

I’m working hard at memorizing my lines. Starting January 5, we may NOT bring our scripts to rehearsal. It’s been a great exercise for this menopausal brain.

And I’m doing my best to inhabit my character, to become Jeri Neal McFeeley, ex-nun. Now out of the convent, she makes some bold choices.

In one scene, Jeri Neal models a low-cut, short, pink dress. Her friends declare the dress much too young for her, announcing that Jeri Neal looks like “a hooker with a handbag.” (She carries a designer purse).

I sure hope I can become as bold as Jeri Neal.

Because if I step on stage in that short pink dress and freak, I’m NOT allowed to turn my back.

Top Photo: The cast of the Dixie Swim Club right before we climbed into our decorated truck for the Hillsborough Christmas Parade.