A Weepy Mess

I know you are all on the edge of your seats waiting to find out if I still fall apart into a weepy mess during Final March.

Of course as time goes on and doing the pageant becomes rote muscle memory it is difficult to keep up the committed emotional level necessary. Sometimes it is there when I need it and sometimes it isn’t. If it isn’t there I fake it even though I’m really thinking about how the thing is almost over and within fifteen minutes I’ll be at home shedding my sweat-soaked underwear, jumping in the shower, and popping open a cold one.

But sometimes…

The other night I was delighted that backstage I found Jimmy Darmo. Jimmy was Father Martin for years during the 1990s and is one of my role models for the part. He is the same – a little older, a little grayer – but then who isn’t? He was sitting chatting with the eternal Miss Laura Long when I spotted him. Hearty greetings ensued. In the middle of that up walks Gina Hays who was first an assistant stage manager and later the big boss stage manager during the Terry Mann years 2001 – 05. More hearty greetings followed, introductions were made. We visited for awhile until it was time for me to get dressed and them to go into the audience.

Press “Play” and we do the pageant.

During my cabin time – from Pot Scene through Small Assembly, Parapet into Large Assembly I lie on my sick bed and try to hold still, ignoring the sweat pouring down my face and the mosquitoes chomping on me – I have lots of time to think.

I was thinking about Jimmy and Gina. Jimmy only knows me as Old Tom from the 90s. Gina only knows me as Governor White from 2003. They had never met before but they are linked through their mutual experience at The Colony.

And that got to me. Jimmy and Gina’s presence sent me into time travel mode, remembering all the people I knew and loved over the years, so many of them never seen again. And even the people I was indifferent to, mostly forgotten. “The guy with the dark hair and the beard.” “That Dancer girl.” “What’s-her-name in the Choir.”

And that night during Final March I totally lost it as the ghosts crowded in on me. The sweat rolling down my face was mixed with tears.

But sweat is dirty, and tears are clean.

 Gina Hays, Laura Long and Jimmy Darmo.