One Time

One time at Lynnwood High we had a substitute teacher in drama class and were assigned to do improvisation. I like improv. Having spent many years as a jazz musician I was used to standing up and making up a solo on the spot. It's not easy and sometimes awful but for some reason I also find it liberating because, I mean, you're just making it up as you go and every so often it can be magical or hilarious or both.
That day in drama class while on stage the person in front of me made a gun shape with their finger and said, "Stick 'em up."
Immediately I threw my hands into the air. They paused for a second and said, "Take off your clothes."
Everyone in the theater laughed.
Now, what you have to take into consideration was the fact that I was on the swim team. What that means is I spent at least 10 hours a week in Speedos in front of my peers. Hell, on meet days I would stand on the blocks. If you don't know what the blocks are they are those things that elevate you up above the water.

Even when you're not showing your package you're giving someone a show. You feel exposed. For a while it's very uncomfortable and then you get over it.

I didn't take my clothes off in class if that's what you're thinking. Not really.
I ran behind the curtain, whipped off my jeans and waved them around from behind the stage right curtain.
People laughed. Fun was had.
The next day I was called into the Vice Principal's office and asked to explain myself. Apparently I was reported to the VP by the substitute and was being scrutinized for suspension. After a thorough grilling I was told if I gave a speech to class the next day apologizing for my behavior I would be allowed to remain in school. Now, here's the thing. I really liked being in school. I know that's corny but it's true and I didn't want to be suspended so I took it seriously. I went home and told my folks and thought about what I would say the next day. It was an embarrassing thing to ponder. After dinner my Mom and Dad were on the deck enjoying a glass of wine and my Dad said, "Greg, let's hear your speech."
I thought about it for a moment, collected myself  and said, "Class, I'm really sorry I didn't do this." Turning around I pulled down my sweatpants and mooned my parents. They both laughed so hard they spit out their wine.
My parents are awesome.

THE AUDITION

A.K.A. how I got my EQUITY CARD.
Maybe a month after returning home from my first out of town job (A Fireside Christmas) I turned on the TV and happened upon the Les Miserables 10th Anniversary Concert. Though familiar with the music I hadn't realized just how many men were in the show until I stood there enrapt watching RED AND BLACK and thought, I can do that. That's what I do.
That same day I read BACKSTAGE (in paper...it was 1995) and saw there were auditions for Les Miserables that very week. A sense of urgency welled within me.
I called my buddy Pat Sullivan...the guy on the right.

Pat Sullivan, Stephanie Parker, Judy Ann Moulton, Kim Maguire, Greg Stone...clockwise.

We met doing theater in Seattle and although Pat and I were the same "type" and possible rivals for roles we became fast friends playing darts, drinking beer, talking of musicals and science-fiction. Pat encouraged me to get back out to NY and crash at his place AGAIN, previously he and Kristie Dale Sanders let me sleep on their tiny couch* in their teeny tiny Hell's Kitchen place where I booked that first "regional" gig.
   *On that couch in Hell's Kitchen you could change the channel on the TV (without a remote) AND at the same time open the refrigerator door in the kitchen without getting up.  It was tight and they offered this postage stamp of a place to occupy with them. I will always be grateful for their generosity.

There was a problem though, the men's ensemble audition was the next day and I couldn't get there in time. Pat said they were having agent submissions all week and felt confident he could get me seen; he knew people at Johnson-Liff Casting.
So I plunked $900 I didn't have on my Discover card and flew out.
But he couldn't get me in.  We both tried urgently to no avail.
I didn't know what to do.
According to Backstage the women's ensemble call was the next day.
I decided to go.
At 7am I showed up at ACTORS' EQUITY, NYC . There was a line of women waiting for the building to be unlocked. At 8 o'clock the door opened and they filed in to sign up. It took some time. They were many. When the line was empty I went up to the board and signed at the bottom. Eventually I was given a pink card with my name and the number 485 on it.
I had nowhere to go and no idea how long it takes to audition 484 people and was scared to leave and possibly lose out. This was a silly fear as it takes a very long time to audition 484 people yet nevertheless I stuck around. As the day wore on more and more women trickled in to sign up.  No one said a word. I sat there in silence and thought about what 8 bars of music I should sing IF I could be seen before the building closed.  Oh yeah, there was a time limit.  The Equity building was closing at 5pm period.
At about 4:30 they lined us up.  The list had grown to well over 500 by now and there were at least 30 women behind me. No one said anything directly to me but I could feel their eyes and hear disapproving murmurs.
I spent a $1000 to get there.
I flew across the country to get there.
I had to get in there.
Fifteen minutes before the building closed I got my shot.
I sang my eight bars from the end of WHY GOD and got a callback the next day...for sixteen bars.
This time I chose the end of Anthem from Chess by Benny Andersson click here.  It went well and then they did the oddest thing. They gave me the music for the role of Jean Valjean and said learn this for tomorrow.  I was 26 years old.  I thought I would be singing for Enjolras or one of the other students.  Nope.  I had one night to work on three songs. Luckily for me Pat and Kristy had a complete recording of the show and it did suit my voice.
The next day there was a different man behind the table named RICHARD JAY ALEXANDER. I didn't know who that was so I wasn't nervous.
"What have I done sweet Jesus what have I done become a thief in the night become a dog on the run and have I fallen so far and is the hour so late, that nothing remains but the cry of my hate.  The cries in the dark that nobody hears..." when he threw up his hands and shouted "STOP" which I promptly did.
"Have you ever seeeeeeen Les Miz?" He asked with a sharp tone while rolling his eyes.
"No." I replied.
"Ohhhhh," he said grabbing his pen and scrawling on a piece of paper.  "We'll have two tickets for you at the box office tonight.  Come back tomorrow."
Sitting in the theater watching the show I realized that I wasn't putting enough emotion into the scene and though I was singing the notes precisely as they were written on the page it was not expressive enough.  It was a valuable lesson and I am grateful that Richard had the patience to walk me through that step....a step that greatly changed how I approach singing in musicals.
The next callback was at Nola Studios 250 W54th St.
Once again my youthful ignorance shielded me from comprehending the gravity of this audition.
I started with SOLILOQUY again, this time focusing more on intent than precision and passion came through. Next was WHO AM I which went well as I hit the B on 24601!
Then came BRING HIM HOME which made me nervous as my control wasn't quite as developed.
"God on high.....hear..."
"THANK YOU" he shouted from behind the table throwing up his hands and indicating to the accompanist to stop.
My shoulders slumped. I'd gotten pretty far but apparently this was it. Maybe he'll give me a note and another shot, I thought as I glanced up from the floor.
"You got the job," he said with a smile.
I just stood there for a few seconds.
"Well aren't you happy?"  He said raising an eyebrow.
"Ummmm yes I am.  Thank you very much."

Mom

She held the record cover in front of me and slid out the shiny black perfectly lined disc.
"I think you'll like this," she said smiling down at me, blue eyes asparkle.
The record player was a thing like I'd never before seen, all plastic and knobs, it smacked of the future. She patiently showed me how to drop the needle onto the groove and when the "pop sizzle" came out of the speaker she smiled again and looked to my reaction. Strange rhythmic claps and strums bounced off the hardwood floors and emanated in the sunlit room. It was confusing to me. She pat the back of my head.

"Cecilia" by Simon and Garfunkle was my first favorite song.
Here is the song on Youtube
The whole album is still a treasure to me.

We picked blackberries. I remember her unexpectedly pulling the Honda Accord over to the shoulder of the road near the golf course where a big beautiful row of fat dark purple blackberries hung on thick green bending stalks. We put them in large clean white buckets that just happened to be in the back seat.
The blackberry pie was delicious and foraging for food is cool.
Here is her recipe.

She read to me. The first book I remember was The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.Though very young I still recall the sound of her voice with my head on the pillow imagining a magical world just through the winter coats hanging in the wardrobe. I still read fantasy.

One of my teachers at Ridgecrest Elementary taught me that May Day is a day to give flowers. I was very excited by this as I knew where a bunch of pretty flowers were growing next to my house. So I cut them, bundled them up and gave them to Mom with a big smile on my face. She looked down at my arrangement of daises, dandelions and daffodils and concluded something was wrong. Mom made me knock, apologize and return the daffodils to the elderly woman who lived next door. It was a terrifying thing to do. I knew this woman didn't like me. She had given me a very severe finger shake when she caught Billy and I peeing in her back yard. That finger shake held some weight in my mind. My mother insisted.

From her I learned that a woman could be heroic and strong.

Near our camp grounds on the river was a massive log jam that adults deemed safe to fish from or walk upon if you so wished...just ..you know be careful! It was the 1970's. I took a few tentative steps out there but didn't really care for the rushing dark cold water beneath my feet whilst standing on slick soggy logs. My mom though, was right out there in the middle of it. Suddenly, one of our labs, Mindy, got swept up and was floundering in the rapids upstream, struggling to keep her head up as the current pushed her further into the water heading directly toward the massive log jam where my mother stood. I was shocked and horrified as Mindy slipped under the logs and disappeared.  I remember Mom near the middle of the log jam squatting down, plunging her arm into a hole of dark water with her other arm extended for balance. Her body jerked and I witnessed her miraculously curl a wet black shaking dog out of the abyss: one handed.  This really happened. I saw it.

She made me this cake for my 6th birthday.

She taught me to cook, do my laundry, make my bed and iron. The ironing didn't stick but the rest did.

Upon finding that I had scrawled something mean and belittling next to a classmates name in my junior high yearbook she looked at me a little confused and then upset. She made me scratch it out and told me it wasn't funny. She was right.



My Mom has decorated many gorgeous Christmas trees but to me it is she that makes Christmas beautiful.

It's safe to say that my mother taught me kindness and that is a nice thing to know...literally. If there are finer qualities in me today it is because my mother shaped me by encouraging polite behavior and showed me with her own interactions with others. I'm sure I didn't learn every lesson but I wouldn't be the man I am today without her guidance.

Thank you Mom.  I love you.