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All I Ever Wanted Was to Sing My Own Song

Two things occurred to me as of late. First off, I realized that I have not often written about my personal life and what goes on ‘under the hood’ as it were. Part of this is that I am aware that this is public and what goes on the net stays on the net forever. Secondly, I like to use this blog to express opinions, thus most of my entries are more of an editorial than anything else.

But sometimes, an event comes along in a persons life that they need to tell, well, anyone. Such was the case in January when I wrote about my needing to leave a singing group I was part of and the events that lead to it. Another such event has taken place and I will be writing about that today.

I never know if anyone reads these entries. If you do, please feel free to click on the comment button down below and let me know.

OK, so I left the group, not answering the question of why when I was asked by the director. I figured it was not worthwhile and might be one of those things that would follow me around in the future. I had written about the new group and being in a rehearsal with them for a show they were working on.

This group held auditions, open to the public. There were actually two types of auditions. Singing and acting. I opted not to try for a singing audition. I’m not trying to come in like a bull and take over. I’d rather dip my toes in the water a bit and ease my way in – or so was my plan.

When I arrived I quickly discovered how formal the auditions would be. It was a bit like trying out for American Idol. Signing in, filling in paperwork, attaching a resume with a photo or having your photo taken.

I sat with others, reading the papers I had been given. There was a listing of the parts that would be assigned as needed, a set of sheet music to be learned and sung on the spot, all people being equal in knowledge of it, and a listing of the process that would follow, such as the amount of rehearsal that would be required of actors and singers or folks doing both. Everyone had full knowledge of the level of commitment required. This was a very cool set up.

The director sat comfortably on the far end of the room, next to the piano calling each group up. The first people were those wishing to try out for soloist parts. I left the room and found a spot in another room so I could read through and mark up the part I was going to read.

There were two audition pieces. I did not know if we would be required to do both, so I prepared for both.

The first one I saw, and at first thought was the only one, was a man saying that “Since our son Matthew was discovered near the side of the road and taken to the emergency room, to today, my wife, Judy and I have not discussed calling for the death penalty to be imposed on Mr. McKinney.” It went on from there. I didn’t know who Mr. McKinney, was, but I knew the name Matthew. Matthew Shepard. I didn’t know that his parents had not called for the death penalty.

Honestly, it was one of those cases that I knew deeply affected friends of mine and people who are in my church community. I remember feeling badly for his parents, between the loss of the their child, which would just about paralyze most anyone and the whole tragedy of how brutal the murder was. I admit that I was not frozen by it, but I felt badly for those affected by it. I was not aware of the details of the case, and the proclamation by Mr. Dennis Shepard that he would not call for the death penalty. I swallowed the small pills that the media fed me and felt the least I could about it.

Reading those words on the page, and the considering what that must have been like, I instantly liked Mr. Shepard, I respected him in a deep way. I can’t say that I would have had the courage to do that. I can’t state with full conviction that I would have not called for the death penalty if someone brutally murdered my wife, or by friend of 25 some years. I can’t image the internal fortitude and conviction it took to do that, and I respect very, very deeply Mr. Shepard.

There was a part in the script I was reading where Mr. Shepard says: “I’m going to grant you life, as hard as that is for me to do, because of Matthew. Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn’t. Every time that you wake up in that prison cell, remember that you had the opportunity and the ability to stop your actions that night. Every time that you see your cell mate, remember that you had a choice, and now you are living that choice. You robbed me of something very precious, and I will never forgive you for that. Mr. McKinney, I give you life in the memory of one who no longer lives. May you have a long life, and may you thank Matthew every day for it”.

When I first read the words “Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn’t.” I felt choked up.

Moments, moments that mark the passing of another year it out life. Celebrated, happy moments, that he would never share with is son because of the actions of the person he was not pleading the court not to put to death.

That was pure courage, pure compassion. I felt humbled for my puny little life and minor complaints about it. This was a person of conviction, courage and compassion that I don’t think I have.

I returned back to the rehearsal room and waited, reading the other section, marking it and preparing it for and myself. It was a person calling for people to sing, no matter what moved them. I figured I would channel Borak Obama and use his positive, “we can do it” attitude. I listened to others as they sang for parts and then when they were done, it was time for speaking auditions.

I was the first one up, just by luck of the draw and a bit of an anxiousness to get it done, rather then sit waiting. I stood in the center of the area of what was the stage and faced the director. I had decided that I didn’t really know the context of this statement. Was he speaking in court or on the court house steps to reporters? In either case, he would not move very much, so I kept myself still, moving only from my waist up. I had by this point – likely by terror, memorized the words already. I’m cursed with a good word memory. I begin, looking around as if there were a group of people in front of me. Trying very hard to be clear in each word I said, and feeling I was being just a bit over the top, but not too far. I had been taught by the director of a play I was in several years ago that this was the way one should feel because of how we are seen by others, versus what we feel inside. I think I referred to my script 3 times, if that. Just grabbing the start of a phrase to be sure I had it.

I came to the part that had moved me the first time I read it and I found my voice starting to quiver, to break, and I felt very emotional.

My first thought was to fight it, hold it in and play it all straight, and then, something took over and told me to let it out. My eyes started to well up, and my voice broke and caught. I stopped for a second and gathered myself. It was raw emotion. I felt my own pain from living the life I have. My own struggle and that which had lead to this moment, the auditions that were pulled away from me and gratitude for this moment of being heard. I heard the room behind me grow very still and felt the presence of every eye being cast on my back. I watched the director, for the first time that evening shift in her chair during an audition. I had a flash of wondering if I had affected her somehow.

There were a few more sentences after that phrase, and it concluded with Mr. Shephard wishing Mr. McKinny a long life. I thought of a moment in the TV show M*A*S*H, when Hawkeye had turned in a character for being too young to serve. He had stolen his brothers identity and came to Korea. The character, played by Ron Howard said to Hawkeye, “I’ll never forgive you for this.” And Hawkeye responded, with such honest kindness, “I hope it’s a long and healthy hate.” It was as the prophet Jesus said “Turning the other cheek.”. (Did you ever wonder why the folks on the Christian Right want to go to war with everyone, and backed Bush attacking Afghanistan and Iraq after they were supposed to have attacked us or been involved, yet the person who was the leader – and some claim still is – told them to ‘turn the other cheek’ if someone hurts them?)

When I was done, I stood there for a moment, and then the director said “Thank you.” I took a deep breath and then heard the people behind me applaud. It was quite a surprise. I turned and smiled to them and started back to my seat. As I did so I noticed a few people wiping their moist eyes.

I had done something. I had moved a group of people in a very emotional way. I had spoken the words of someone else in such a way that took others on the ride with me. I had affected them. I admit it was powerful to be able to do that. I had hoped I had that ability, I thought I would do it with music, but not so much with acting. I’ve never proclaimed myself to be an actor. I’ve done voice work and used my voice alone; speaking into a microphone for recordings and in one case was picked over a professional to do some narration.

I felt a bit of guilt. I had made people cry. I know that part of acting is to let people see your emotions, or that the person you are playing, and feel them along with you. We all watch movies or TV and they are at their best when we as the audience have empathy for the character.

I returned to my seat and listened as others tried out for speaking parts, some doing very well, others making a good effort. I was impressed at how others read that same part. Some moving about the stage more than I had, and that was part of the audition process. What did you do with the material. How did you see the person in that moment. One person read in a low key, very sad sounding voice, with little inflection. I imagine that Mr. Shepard might have said that way as well. I suppose the only people who know are those who were in the courtroom that day.

I went home, unsure what would happen. The director told us that she would be in touch with each person who had a part or not, by the following Monday. During the days between then and Monday I checked my email often, perhaps too often. In the mean time, I enjoyed and appreciated that I had been heard. That was all I wanted with the group I had been in before. I didn’t expect or in anyway assume that I had a part or a solo, but wanted to be heard for them. The opportunity to be heard.

Monday arrived and honestly, I was a bit sad. I begin to doubt that I had done so well after all. I arrived home from work and per my usual routine, checked my email. To my amazement, there was an message from the director, offering out not one, but two acting roles and three singing solo sections. I was at once humbled and excited. I admit that I teared up a bit. This was affirmation, this was something I wanted and worked for, and this was something that I had been on a level playing field with everyone else for. They were honest, open auditions. I replied that I would be honored to take the roles offered and thanked the director. Then, well, I danced around the house whooping. It as exciting. That was followed with an appreciation of the awesomeness of what had taken place.

I had in the course of a few weeks gone from deep despair sadness over being rejected and cut off from a chance to audition, to a full out audition and an offer of not only singing but acting, and major roles at that.

I’ll play a network news anchor during hurricane Katrina that is a mix of Ted Baxter from Mary Tyler Moore Show and Dan Fielding from Night court as well as Dennis Shepard. Two very different roles. The solos are actually being part of a quartet in parts of pieces of music. Mr. Shepard’s lines are spoken while the chorus is singing in the background.

I’m struck with amazement at how this has all turned out. When I was turned down for the audition with my old group and how it has come full circle to what I have now.

I am also truly humbled to be playing Mr. Shepard. I had heard actors on “Inside the Actors Studio” say that they connected with a character they were playing, or felt humility playing them. I never understood it until now.

For my entire life I have always been against the death penalty. I was raised Roman Catholic and was taught that it was wrong to kill anyone; that meant everyone for every reason. It was up to God to decided when life was to end, not humans. Over the years I’ve modified that belief finding myself in agreement with physician assisted suicide as it is called. I see no good purpose in forcing someone to suffer. We put dogs and cat’s to sleep when we see that they will be pain for the remainder of their life, and we do that out of great compassion. We would like to keep them around as many of us have form a bond with them, but we let them go. I know there are people who are anti-abortion and are such because they proclaim that life is precious and it is not up to we humans to decide to end a life, they consider a fetus to be a live human. Yet, these same people believe in the death penalty. I’ve never understood that. Someone tried to justify their stance by saying that it was the innocence of life. The fetus is innocent, the person they want to put to death is not.

I have long thought that the ultimate punishment for murder would be to put a photo of the person that was killed in the cell of the accused murder and let them live there. Every day they would see it, and remember why they were in prison and the person or persons they affected.

I’ve read the full statement Mr. Shepard gave in court and I was struck with his compassion and his love for his son.

Could I stand before a jury and say that I didn’t want the person convicted of murdering someone I love put to death? Could I say with compassion that it was time to give that person compassion even though they had not given it to my loved one?

I don’t know, and I don’t ever want to know.

Peace