Pardon Me, CV

Working on a little archiving project (of which, if I may say, I am very proud), I was compiling my list of works and realized once again that a life in theatre is a truly schizophrenic one.

While living the quiet life of Kelly – an unmarried daughter/sister/friend who earns her modest living behind a mic/on a stage/through a pen – I’ve also lived a host of entirely different lives on stage.

I've been a mother, a mother-in-law, a sister, a wife, a dead wife, a mistress, and a murderess. I’ve been a good witch and a bad aunt. I’ve been a peasant, a lady, and a queen. I’ve been a corporate leader, a news reporter, a sports writer, and a waitress.

I’ve been a lesbian, a transvestite, and even a man. Under these guises, I’ve taken the names of Glinda, Vanessa, Peg, Howard, Samantha, Margo, and Hattie; Ethel, Barbara, Mavis, Clara, Betty, Chris, and Miranda; Jenny, Hazel, Doris, Elvira, Olive, and Linda; Mariella, Theresa, Ruth, Augusta, and a host of others long forgotten.

And I’ve met some interesting characters along the way.

Oliver asked for more. Kate was kissed. Joseph wore a colorful coat. Marsha thought she’d be murdered. Ellie led the pack. Sam played it again. Alice had a name which started with "A." Anne wrote a diary. Agnes gave birth. Clarence went to court. Rita was educated. Santa lost a Christmas. Mrs. Markham moved over. Ernest learned a vital importance. And John Garfield… well, he doesn’t exist.

A Fair Lady, two Sleeping Beauties, and a Wiz have met Sergeants, various Odd Couples, and many Blithe Spirits. Ten little Indians, a Boy who gets the Girl, a Gentleman & a Scoundrel have met wives to be Run For and wives who Begin at 40.

And I’ve heard Rumors that these characters have come – from moony Buffalo, Graceland, and Greater Tuna – to familiar stages (perhaps thinking I Ought to Be in Pictures) carrying only Love Letters, and Laundry & Bourbon (for the weather may prove a Bone Chiller that pains the Extremities) as each seeks his Super Gift from Heaven. Lowering their guards only at meals, they often forget they’ve been told “Don’t Drink the Water,” and find that The Dining Room becomes The Murder Room at jealous hands. Alas, not all characters stand the test of time.

Unless, of course, they are anally archived by me.