Never Too Old to Need Mama

I should have known things were going too well.

The Prairie Players’ performance of Sleeping with a One-Armed Man at the Glesby Centre went swimmingly last week. We felt overwhelmed when an audience of 265 showed up and collectively donated $1,380 to Manitoba Farmers with Disabilities. Thank you to everyone who came. Your generosity and support are deeply appreciated!

Next, we drove off to the ACT Festival in Dauphin. I hoped the team would do as well as they had at home. I hoped the adjudicators wouldn’t criticize us into the ground. I wondered if I’d find my way, especially since I was staying at my niece’s home and would need to navigate country roads after dark with my dicey night vision. Would the weather turn horrid? Had I packed the right outfits? Would my old car hang together? Would my sometimes precarious energy levels fizzle before the weekend ended?

The bench AND the armful. Sweet!

Not only did I arrive with no wrong turns, but the adjudicators offered much praise and helpful suggestions for making our play better. I enjoyed extraordinarily restful sleep in my niece’s spare room. The weather was perfect. The camaraderie delightful. The food too good to be true. The cherry on top occurred at the Saturday banquet when I won TWO fantastic prizes in the silent auction fundraiser! I rarely win anything, but this time I needed help lugging my loot to my car: a large flower pot filled with gardening supplies and a beautiful hand-crafted deacon’s bench!

I headed for home the following afternoon belting out happy songs, feeling like a competent playwright, a capable adult, and a truly fortunate individual. In Neepawa, I stopped and used the free McCafe coupon we’d each found in our goodie bag. 

It should have occurred to me that my car might be equally thirsty.

It’s not that I didn’t look at the fuel gauge. I just didn’t look at it soon enough. And when I did, it told me seven liters and a range of 110 km. remained. Already past Westbourne, I should reach the filling station at #16 and #1, no problem. Right?

Wrong. My singing stopped.

At least I had enough warning to pull onto the shoulder. Now what? It’s a busy highway, but flagging down strangers when you’re alone is not widely recommended. I called home and left a message. Then I tried my sister’s house and didn’t bother with a message. I debated. I could call CAA and wait a couple of hours or I could try Mom. She’s generally looking for something to do on a Sunday afternoon.

But what competent, capable, 56-year-old calls their mother to rescue them from the side of the road?

Then again, what 56-year-old is fortunate enough to have that option?

I dialed Mom’s number. She arrived in 20 minutes. I climbed into her car and the first words out of her mouth were not, “what were you thinking?” or “I can’t believe you ran out of gas.” As we made eye contact she said, “I smell a column in the works.”

Indeed. I had already been scribbling notes while I awaited her rescue. Think she’s on to me?

She drove me to the nearest station where I purchased a jerrycan and the two of us figured out how to fill it. Back at my car, we emptied it into my tank and got behind our respective steering wheels, both smelling like gasoline. Mom followed me back to the station, waited while I filled, and continued to trail me into Portage in case I did some other dumb thing.

Thank you, Mom. You are part super-hero, part cheerleader, and part guardian angel. And all grace.

Rest assured, mothers. It may not often look this obvious (or this pathetic), but your kids will always need you—no matter how competent, capable, or old they grow. Happy Mother’s Day!

Seven Steps to Crazy

It’s the craziest way to rehearse a play I’ve ever experienced. Just follow these seven simple steps.

Step One. Agree to direct a play for the Prairie Players to take to the ACT Festival being hosted in Dauphin May 1-3. Hold auditions in January for a half-hour performance not happening for four months. To keep things challenging, cast someone who is currently in South America but will be home in March.

 

Step Two. Assemble the remaining cast in early February to read through the script and discuss blocking, props, and costumes. Don’t meet again for a month.

Step Three. With the globetrotting actor home from South America, rehearse like crazy through the month of March. Sleep little as you dream up new ideas to improve the play. By the end of that period, the play is basically ready to present and you’re eager to go. But alas! The performance is still a month away and besides, your globetrotter is taking off to Japan for three weeks. Worry about whether peaking too early is actually a thing.

Step Four. Meet without the globetrotter a couple of times during April, lest everyone forgets everything. Allow your title-role actor to get sick and one of your multi-role actors to go away for a week. That way, you’re always short at least two people.

Step Five. When the globetrotter returns four days before your performance, pray to God everybody remembers everything for a dress rehearsal with your tech person.

Step Six. Hold a full dress rehearsal before a live audience. If necessary, rehearse some more after said audience exits the premises.

Step Seven. Pack up and take the show to ACT Fest where your audience will be comprised of fellow thespians from around the province and where you’ll receive adjudication and a workshop with a theatre professional. Then sit back and enjoy the rest of the festival.

Meanwhile, enjoy tons of fun. Get to know each other. Tease. Laugh. Gather them in your home for line drills and jelly beans. Threaten Laurel Giesbrecht with a dollar fine every time she says “sorry” for stumbling on a line. Coax Rosa Rawlings to sing like a soulful black woman. Mock Chris Kitchen mercilessly. Give Vicki Hooke an extra role only to take it away again, using the excuse that it “doesn’t serve the story.” Relentlessly work Stephanie Kauffman, your stage manager, like a horse. Expect Terry Tully, your globetrotting actor, to play his multiple roles like a pro in spite of his absences. Show no mercy. Brag about them to everyone.

If the system works, patent it. Or at least recommend it to others. If not? Live and learn. 

You can judge for yourself whether this system works by attending the aforementioned dress rehearsal of Sleeping with a One-Armed Man at the William Glesby Centre on Wednesday, April 29, at 7:30 pm. The premise of the story? When Jim loses his right arm in a farm accident, he and Tracy need to figure out how to navigate parenting, marriage, and love in a whole new way. Based on the true story of someone I know and love. Admission is free. Donations will be received for Manitoba Farmers withDisabilities. We’d love to see you there!

Sleeping with a One-Armed Man

Sleeping with a One-Armed Man

Do you ever wonder what can happen in a marriage and family when a healthy adult suddenly faces a permanent disability? 

I can answer that question. But not in this blog post. Questions of such magnitude call for bold measures when you’re a drama queen. That’s why rehearsals are underway for a never-before-produced play the Prairie Players will take to the 2015 ACT Festival in Dauphin the first weekend in May. The play is called Sleeping with a One-Armed Man. 

As the writer and director of this piece, based loosely on our own true story, I confess I’ve been a bit chicken to see it moving forward. Since writing it 15 years ago, I always figured it was merely a therapeutic effort that would never actually see the stage. But its 35-minute running time makes it a good fit for the ACT Festival. And since this fall will mark 20 years that I’ve been sleeping with a one-armed man, the timing seemed right. (And yes, we’re doing this with the one-armed man’s blessing.) It features the stellar cast of Christopher Kitchen, Laurel Giesbrecht, Vicki Hooke, Rosa Rawlings, and Terry Tully. Stephanie Kauffman rules as our capable stage manager. 

Now that rehearsals have begun and I can see what a terrific job my actors are doing, I’m getting excited. But then, the potential for making audiences laugh, cry, and think new thoughts always excites me. In order for our families and friends here at home to see this play, we’ve decided to open our final rehearsal to the public. 

Although it would be worth the price of admission just to see Chris Kitchen undergo an amputation, we’ve decided to let folks in for free and collect donations for Manitoba Farmers with Disabilities. MFWD is dedicated to educating the public about farm safety and to providing a support network for farmers living with disabilities in our province.

Based out of Elm Creek, MFWD recently constructed a new headquarters from which to carry out their mandate. They know that after a serious injury or illness, a person may experience symptoms of overwhelming guilt, issues of acceptance, and the inability to communicate with family and friends. An important part of the healing process involves talking about your situation with someone who will listen and understand—someone who perhaps has gone through the same experience. 

In addition to networking, MFWD provides resources like books, downloads, videos, coloring books, peer counselling, newsletters, and more. It’s one of those groups no one ever hopes to belong to, but when you need it, you’re glad it’s there.

 

An old African-American hymn says, “Time is filled with swift transition, none on earth unmoved can stand. Build your hopes on things eternal, hold to God’s unchanging hand.” 

Such is the theme of this story. We hope you can join us on Wednesday, April 29, 7:30 p.m. at the William Glesby Centre in Portage la Prairie. Mark your calendar and watch for more details.