God, I hope I get it. I hope I get it.
And by “it,” I don’t mean any of the full-time jobs I recently applied for (though, that’d be nice, too). But rather a part in the Long Beach Theater Guild’s fall production of The Music Man, which I auditioned for this week.
I know what you’re thinking: Well, that’s an interesting turn.
But anyone who knows me from way back when knows I’ve long had a thing for theater, dahhhhling.
Sometimes I wonder if I had gone left instead of right many years ago—or, I should say stage left—and pursued another of my other passions where I’d be today. Probably still struggling with the crushing anxiety of rejection since life as any type of artist serves that up in droves, which my Mom so gently reminds me of when mentioning the agent I pleaded she take me to…
Doesn’t matter, anyway. No regrets and I’m confident my writing, editing, and reporting skills are significantly better than my acting, dancing, and singing skills. Still, while I linger here in Transition Land I figured why not scratch that itch?
I started seeing the posters around town a couple of months ago and noted the audition date in my calendar. But, to be honest, I was iffy about actually going through with it so I didn’t begin practicing my audition song until a few days prior.
There was no question what it’d be, though: “I Can’t Say No” sung by the character Ado Annie in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma!, which I happened to play in a 6th-grade performance of the musical. The lyrics have been ingrained in my brain ever since, but only recently did I consider how scandalous my singing them as a naive and innocent grade-schooler was:
I'm just a fool when lights are low
I cain't be prissy an' quaint
I ain't the type that can faint
How can I be what I ain't
I cain't say noWatcha gonna do when a feller gets flirty
And starts to talk purty
Whatcha gonna do?
Supposin that he says
Your lips are like cherries
Or roses or berries
Whatcha gonna do?
So, yeah. That’d be my audition song. Slightly more apropos at 45, only it’s been some time since a feller was too flirty. Oh, the irony.
As for what I was auditioning for? Certainly not any of the leads. My delusions are not grand enough to even consider a starring role. Plus, it’d require serious commitment. Performances are in November. I don’t know whether I’ll stick around the state, let alone still be staying with my brother on Long Island by then. I also didn’t remember the show well enough to know the characters.
So, I decided to watch the 2003 movie version starring Matthew Broderick, Kristin Chenoweth, and Molly Shannon. As soon as I did—mere hours before the audition, I might add; despite having pulled it up on YouTube a week prior where I let it linger with the other open tabs—I decided I wanted Molly Shannon’s part: Mrs. Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn aka The Mayor’s Wife. From what I could tell, it’s a bit role that doesn’t require singing chops, but moxie. And I got moxie. I love a kooky character. That was Ado Annie. And, quite frankly, that’s me! So without even finishing the movie before heading to auditions, I decided that was the role I wanted.
And yet, I was still unsure about going through with it at all! But I had left the night open, borrowed my mother’s car, and been singing in the shower for the better part of three days, so off I went. (Meanwhile, what does one even wear to an audition? The flyer only mentioned sneakers, so I opted for comfortable athleisure and some light makeup. I suppose if I wanted the—or any—part, I could’ve gone in character. Do people do that?)
I giggled my way to the elementary school, which was located about 10 minutes by car from my brother’s house. I parked, and as I approached the auditorium, wondered to myself what the heck I was doing. As soon as I opened the large double doors I was hit with nostalgia: Checkered, speckled floors. That wet sock, cafeteria smell. A water fountain that doesn’t work.
“Are you here to audition?” asked a blond-haired woman behind a table.
“I am!” I said, still unconvinced regardless of my chipper demeanor.
Maybe I’m a better actor than I thought...
She wrote my name down—Lucky No. 7!—and gave me an application. On it, it asked for my acting experience to which I could only think of Ado Annie. In the “Year” category, I put “the ’90s.” However, my best friend Anna who played the lead role of Laurey (aka Ado’s bosom bud) reminded me it may have been the late ’80s.
My cheeks burned.
While waiting my turn, I met a local school teacher around my age who also thought it’d be fun to audition even though she also wasn’t chaperoning any participating minors, didn’t possess much experience, or hadn't done this in a very long time. Whew. Glad I wasn’t the only one. Or was I?
Suddenly, I was up. I didn’t have sheet music but I knew we could use a karaoke recording. I was halfway through when the music director interrupted me and offered to accompany me on the piano.
“You have such a lovely voice,” she said, “and all I can hear is that horrible organ.”
Shocked, and now even more nervous, I managed to finish up the 16 bars I’d rehearsed without forgetting any of the lyrics and making serious eye contact with the six or so people watching.
Then, I waited in the back until they called all of us down to learn some choreography. I figured this would be where I shone, as dance comes more naturally to me. Compared to the guy with two left feet on my right, I did well. But I would’ve done better had I known that the learning/practicing of the three eight counts was the audition itself.
Finally, I was handed a script and asked to read the part of Ethel Toffelmier, “the pianola” girl. Everyone was asked to read a few lines, so this didn’t surprise me. But I was slightly disappointed not to read for Mrs. Shinn, the part I’d declared was mine about three hours prior when watching the film for the first time. And because I am me, I said as much to the woman who handed me the three-ring-binder! (Who do I even think I am?! Someone who suddenly really wants a part in this production, apparently.) Thankfully, a few of us read for each of the Pick-A-Little-Ladies, as they’re known, and before I knew it we were done. Callbacks would be the following Tuesday.
So there you have it. How I went from not even being sure I’d audition to God, I hope I get it. (That reference, by the way, is for my fellow musical theater nerds out there. You know who you are.)
Unlike a writing job or a guy I swipe right on, I’m not holding my breath here. Would I be slightly more apt to commit and excited to participate if I got the part? Maybe. But then perhaps I should’ve put more effort into my audition and learned how to pronounce the part’s name more confidently. (I think it’s You-lal-ee.) In which case, whatever happens, happens. Honestly, as someone who watches the Tony Awards each year with tears in her eyes and a pitter-patter in her gut, and feels the winners’ acceptance speeches so deep within her soul, it felt good just to go for it. Is the lesson here to take the pressure off myself and just have fun henceforth? Or, put more effort in when I want something? I suppose maybe knowing what I want at all would be a good start. Seems these days, that’s my part: Ms. Still Figuring it Out, but also Ms. Wants It All. End scene, let’s go again. Bon week-end. xx — Sara
Clickable
“I have long been in a prison of my own ambition.” | The Cut
Going deep and nerdy on redefining The Brat Pack. | Vulture
We’ve reached peak intergenerational sock debate. | The NY Times
A plug for self-sufficiency and being more like Emerson. | The Atlantic
Tips and rules for fitting in with the French. | (me for) AFAR
I feel seen re: comprehending “House of the Dragon.” | Vulture
“Ambition and stilettos can coexist.” Wisdom from DVF. | The NY Times
Watchable
One night this week, during my evening TikTok scroll, I landed on a video of thousands of strangers singing in three-part harmony to Vanessa Carlton’s “A Thousand Miles” and I was hooked: Pub Choir is my new obsession! Founded and led by a woman named Astrid Jorgensen in 2017, the Australia-born concept—a so-dubbed “musical one-night stand”—is now a worldwide phenomenon. Through the art of improvisation (and a bit of practice), Jorgensen turns audiences into massive show choirs and it’s pretty magical. What’s more, anyone can participate! Here’s how.
Currently overthinking…
…which style and color combo of Adidas sneakers to get…the height of my socks…
Souvenir: Combos
Since returning to the States from France, I have been snacking way more than I used to, probably because my snack of choice is more readily available at all supermarkets, corner delis, 7-11s, bagel cafes, and more: pretzels. In general, the salty snack aisle—like hot sauce—is far more plentiful here, which reminded me of one from my youth: pizza-flavored Combos. Now just the thought of these cheesy pretzel bites makes me want to hurl, but back then? Yum.
I love this so much! Rooting so hard for you! Normalise taking a leap of faith!
*sorry about the exclamation marks... but I am so gassed for you!!!!!!!
Sara. I am SCREAMING! I love this for you! 🤩