Preserve Us

    Eric Gunhus (Cast member Billy Elliot Broadway):   So you're going on for Dad on Tuesday?

    Me:   Yep.

    Eric Gunhus:  You're not getting a put in, or run through, and you haven't trailed back stage?

     Me:  Yep.

    Eric Gunhus:  Good luck.

     Me:  Thanks.

     Eric Gunhus:  I meant for us.


    Sunday night on the commuter train home after the show.  11:03 P.M.  Writing this longhand in a yellow pad with a felt tip black pen while I wait on the rumbling train for lift off out of Penn Station at 11:11 when New Jersey Transit will chug me out of Manhattan to South Orange and home.   It's a latish train on a Sunday night, so it's quiet with plenty of seats.  No rowdy Saturday night drunks on this train.

 It's the end of the "5 show weekend."  One on Friday, Two on Saturday, and Two on Sunday.  Usually this is the end of the week and the Sunday show gets a bit giddy as it is the precursor to the actor's "weekend", Monday being the day off.  This particular week, however, Columbus day falls on the Monday, and the powers that be have determined that people may just buy tickets on this holiday Monday, which means we continue our workweek and perform on Monday night, and Tuesday night and have our "weekend" on Wednesday.

     The train is speeding through the tunnel deep under the Hudson River toward Secaucus now.

    On Tuesday I will go on as "Dad".   This means the principal role that I understudy (Dad) normally played by Greg Jbara will be vacant on Tuesday because Greg has a film gig in Alaska.  I will perform the Tuesday and Sunday evening performances and Joel Hatch, who normally plays "George" will play the other six performances.  I will bookend the week.  I will be the bread on the sandwich and Joel will be the meat. 

   So, the last night of my extra long week ends with the first attempt at a principal role in the Tony Award winning show in the Tony Award winning actor's role.  I haven't had a rehearsal for the role in weeks, although I will get a kind of crash run through with a skeleton crew of actors Tuesday afternoon. 

   We are out of the tunnel and into the New Jersey night.

     My mother and stepfather will be at the performance on Tuesday.  In an ideal situation, when shot out of the cannon and into the major role in the Broadway show, one desires a blind shot.  Strangers only in the audience please.  But Mom and Dave have been planning to come visit for months and the circumstances just worked out that it would happen to be the week I would be going on.  So... I am very happy they will be there.

     Secaucus.

     I alternate between being thrilled and terrified, and wonder what the difference is really.  I take comfort in knowing, from the times that I have done this before, that this is exactly how I should be feeling. 

     You know what?  I've done this before.  I've jumped into major Broadway roles before and the experiences have always wound up being some of the most cherished memories of my career.  Because they are great roles and this is one of the reasons that the actors playing them have won the awards.  This is no exception.   This role, "Dad", is a great role.

      I drift away from the yellow pad and the felt tip pen and doze on the train until it reaches South Orange.  I shoulder my bag and walk up the hill to our house.

          +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

     Monday at the theater, doing my usual performance.  Uncomfortable would be the word.  Every one I run into says something to the effect of "...this time tomorrow night."  Weakly, I smile.  I'm achy.  Anxious.  Scared.

     After a couple of scotches post show in the dressing room I exit the stage door and am thrust into a terrible rainstorm.  I attempt to get the 11:21 train but am stymied by the storm and huddle under an awning while genuinely frightening thunder cracks over head.  

     I smile.  The role is mine.  For the next 24 hours right or wrong, success or failure it is mine.  I laugh and walk the rest of the way to the station in the rain.   Anxiety gives way to eagerness... desire.  

    I rehearse scenes quietly on the train in my seat and on the walk home up the hill. 

     +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Dawn Riffenburg Needham's ROASTED TOMATO SAUCE

Preheat oven to 425. Core 3 pounds tomatoes (beefsteak or plum, heirloom work too). Cut tomatoes in half, put on large parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet. Add 1 medium onion, halved and sliced about 1/4-inch thick, 2 carrots, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds, 4 cloves peeled garlic, thyme or herb of choice (fresh, about a tablespoon, dried, about a teaspoon). Toss mixture with 2 T olive oil, salt and pepper. Spread in a single layer, putting tomatoes cut side down, and roast until tender 45 minutes to an hour.

Using tongs if hot or your fingers if you've let them cool, pull off the tomato skins and discard . Transfer tomato mixture and any juices to a blender or food processor; pulse until you like the consistency. Freezes great.

** It's sometimes hard for me to throw out these yummy skins, so I dry in a low oven (200)  for a couple of hours, then crumble and keep them in a spice jar. It makes great topping for pizza or eggs or as a spice mixture, just use your imagination.