On Getting Old -- 8

This day’s piece of candy is more like a full box.

We completed all our rehearsals and now await the call for places for the opening of the play, “Murder on the Orient Express” at the community theatre. The adrenaline was so thick you could stir it with a spoon. The cast twittered with anticipation that first step on stage before an audience.

The lights went down, the curtain opened – lights up! There I was, the conductor welcoming each cast member in turn to their place on the train. The show proceeded with pace and energy. Before we knew it, we were taking our bow at the end.

The exhilaration of being on stage gives one a tremendous high. When you’re into the play, you’re in a different world. No longer do you think of your daily problems, no longer do you think of your aches or pains, no longer do you think about that struggle toward seventy years old.

At a party after the performance the cast assembled at a nearby diner and pub to share in the accomplishments of the evening. Eight weeks ago a group of strangers got together for a common goal – to perform in a play. These people of diverse backgrounds melded into a unified team, each complementing the other in a selfless effort.

The layers of candy this day were extra special. Not only did I feel the emotional high of being on stage, I knew the sense of accomplishment of doing a job well, and most of all I met and interacted with people who can now be called friends.


Ciao