Bob Miller
Are you set to enjoy another amazing season of plays at the Golden Chain Theater?
The new play “Into the Woods” that starts on March 27 sounds interesting. I know the new season will be amazing because my star once burned brightly there — however briefly.
I had the splendiferous experience of acting on the same stage as Jennifer and Jason, being directed by James and Ruth Ann, being choreographed by Lyric. Oh, those were the days — my reserved parking space for “Jean Shepherd,” the private dressing room with the bottle of champagne on ice for after, my own wardrobe and makeup artist, the legions of adoring fans, the signing of autographs.
The — oh well, you know me by now and to take much of what I say with a grain of salt. Actually I had to get my 2002 Tacoma there early enough so that I wasn’t parking in the weeds, and the dressing room was a walk-in closet barely big enough to accommodate 15 of us at the same time.
My main perk was getting a free cup of soda from Jeri’s Place (saloon) before the play. But, truth be told, I did end up with a Charlie Brown-sized head that none of my hats would fit for a while.
My road to stardom had a very humble beginning, so let me tell you about a very long journey to two months of local fame. Just two months and splat, I had a hard landing back to reality.
Have you ever had a traumatic experience in your childhood that stayed with you your entire life? A girl that I dated in college had an obsessive fear of ants. It all came about because as a toddler she picked up a hose, not noticing that it was covered with ants and soon they were all over her arm.
My trauma happened in fifth grade when I was chosen to play the moon in a school play. It was a ridiculously simple role — I had to stand up during the night scene and sit down during the day scene.
But as a kid I was very shy and hated the spotlight. In order for the audience to know I was the moon, I wore a white T-shirt. The kid playing the sun wore a bright yellow T-shirt and wore sun glasses.
Well, when the “sun kid” stood up, the audience roared with laughter. When I stood up — total silence. This happened three times during the play. I was absolutely mortified standing there staring at the audience.
For the next three weeks, I would not wear a white T-shirt as I was afraid someone would point at me and say, “There’s that little kid who thought he could be the moon!” And I never set foot in a playhouse for many, many years as it would bring back that embarrassing experience.
Finally, when I was in my seventh decade, I faced my “fear.” My grandson, Troy, had caught the acting bug.
In the Golden Chain’s summer kids’ play version of “The Aristocats,” he got the main role of the head cat, Thomas O’Malley. When the adult play, “Oliver, the Musical,” was coming up, he wanted to audition for a part as one of the pickpockets.
I told him that I would also audition for a part in the play, mainly to be there to support him. Hey, maybe they would want me to be a stage hand.
Much to my surprise, I was chosen to play the part of Mr. Brownlow in the play. He was Oliver’s grandpa. It was a quite a challenge as I not only was in many scenes, but I had to fake a passable British accent.
I spent hours watching the BBC, paying particular attention to the narrator of those nature films, David Attenborough. When I thought I had the accent down, I tried it out on an acquaintance from England. The grimace on his face told me that I had a lot of work left to do.
But half way through rehearsals, I finally knew that I had gotten the role down when the director, James, said to me, “Well, you aren’t terrible.”
Of course, I took it to mean, “You are the best Mr. Brownlow ever!”
Then the actual play rolled around.
Some of my scenes were with the veteran actors, Michael and Ruth Ann. Occasionally I would flub some lines, but they were there to “catch me” so that the audience never even knew!
Of course, the highlight of the play for me was to be actually performing on the same stage as my grandson. In the opening scene, Troy was chosen to march on the stage at the lead of the other orphans. And I had the pleasure of standing in the wings watching him do that!
Well, the play ended. And I thought that was the end of my acting career.
But then came tryouts for the play, “A Christmas Story, the Musical.” Troy wanted to audition for it, but it was not a priority for me.
Then I happened to encounter the play’s director, Ruth Ann, one night. She asked me to try out for the part of the narrator. It caught me by surprise. The left side of my brain was saying, “Finally, your acting talent is being recognized!” But the right side of my brain was saying, “Wow! They must really be desperate!”
Well, I auditioned and I got the part. (The rest of the those auditioning were amazed that I had never seen the movie version.) And, thankfully, I didn’t have to sing or dance.
It was a role I thought that I could pull off. I mean — all the narrator did was tell a story. Not much acting. As a teacher, I had been telling stories all my life.
But then I looked at the script. The narrator, Jean Shepherd, was in every scene. I bought 3X5 note cards to write down the lines. (I still have the stack of cards, higher than a brick.)
My wife — bless her heart — helped me learn my lines in our living room and she attended several of the plays. Of course, when I flubbed up, she reminded me at home, although no one else in the audience caught on.
(One of my beginning speeches was very long and the music started for Cody to say his lines before I had finished mine on opening night. The next night James and Donovan up in the control booth made a bet on whether or not I could get my lines in. I couldn’t — again! So I simply chopped off about three sentences after that. No one — or almost no one — knew the difference.)
At the Golden Chain, after each performance, the actors greet the audience as they leave the theater, and I had the ego-gratifying experience of being on the end of much praise, such as the woman who told me, “I find it remarkable that someone your age can remember so many lines!” (puff, puff!)
And then there was the gentleman who gushed that I sounded just like the narrator in the movie version! (puff, puff!)
I got such a big head that I almost asked James to put a marquee out front, “A Christmas Story, the Musical — starring Bob Miller as Jean Shepherd!”
On one night I think I mentioned to Michael that it was pure genius casting me as the narrator. I was no longer Little Bobby Miller pretending to be the moon!!!
Well, when the play had run its course, I was exhausted. It is a big time commitment rehearsing and being in a play. And the realization hit me — I needed to retire at the “top” of my game.
There would never be a part I could pull off so well again. I still enjoy going to see the plays. My grandson had feature rolls in Peter Pan, Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music.
If you have a couple of free months to rehearse, you should give acting at the Golden Chain a try. Heck, if I could do it, just about anyone can!
And if James or Ruth Ann had been my director back in fifth grade, I may have even turned in a star performance as the moon.
Bob Miller is a 48-year resident of the mountain area and a former English teacher, football/baseball coach at Yosemite High School. He keeps his brain sharp as a Q-tip by substitute teaching at the overly ripe age of 78. He enjoys traveling and taking short hikes with his wife and grandkids. And reading such books as “The Cat in the Hat” and Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods.” He thinks what the world could use in these crazy times is a good laugh. He can be reached at writerbob46@gmail.com.
Responses (0)