And now,
in a sudden fit of narcissism, alpha charlie bravo presents:

True Student Theater Stories

When I arrived as a freshman at North Occidental, I confidently presumed that with one successful high school production of Godspell under my belt (in which I played the role of Jesus, thank you very much) I would continue my performing career in college, in spite of the fact that it was not my field of study.

I immediately began to audition for every student produced show in existence expecting that if I cast a wide enough net, I would ensnare a leading role. I auditioned for a student written original play called (title redacted due to extreme googlebility). It was a sci-fi story (probably inspired by the original Solaris movie with a touch of 2001: A Space Odyssey) that featured an android as a central character, a masturbation scene and a bell-kicking leprechaun.

There were 4 male roles and 1 female. I was auditioning for the male roles. I performed a ten minute monologue because that was the time allotted for the audition. Later, I learned that no one else had done a monologue even approaching that length, which was one of the reasons the director, Kelly, chose to cast me.

Callbacks were typically held on Sundays with casting decisions made that night. A folder containing the list of names to be cast in the upcoming production was placed in a bin at Norris. I endured several anxious Sunday nights that year waiting to get a glimpse of a manila folder that may or may not have my name printed on the page inside.

It was common for students to audition for multiple productions, so anyone who was cast was expected to place his initials alongside his name if he intended to accept the assigned role. When I opened that folder, I suppose I expected to see my name associated with one of the two male leads; either the astronaut or the android. It wasn't. I was to be Station J2; one of two space station operators who converse with the lead, but only appear on a video screen.

I was dejected. I thought about all the auditions I had been on thus far; auditions for bigger productions with better parts. Accepting a smaller role was not part of my grand design. I hesitated. I stared at the folder. My right arm lifted slowly and then made a smooth motion that caused the writing implement in my hand to leave initials on the page. It wasn't the part I had wanted, but I accepted the role.

In retrospect, it all seems quite silly. Could I, if provided the opportunity, have effectively performed the role of astronaut or android? Probably. But the director chose the cast she wanted; the cast that would best fulfill her artistic vision. That artistic vision included me, playing the part of Station J2 appearing on a video screen (just after the masturbation scene) to berate the astronaut as he slowly slipped into madness.