Thoughts The Weekend Brought With It

A couple of days ago, I was exchanging emails with a good friend. During the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she had always wanted to put together a cabaret act and perform it here in town, but that other commitments like raising two kids and a husband, having a day job, and the rest of life have got in the way of doing the work on the act. Now, she's a terrific actress and singer. And a cabaret act would seem like a natural thing for her to do.

I wrote back saying so and offered to help out with putting it together or filling a director's role when it was ready for that, or whatever. I even suggested that a group I work with has been talking about a fundraiser and maybe this would be a good opportunity for her to perform an evening of cabaret to raise money for them. Mostly, as soon as I read that she'd been wanting to do it, I wanted to hear it. Suddenly, though, with the prospect of actually having a place to do the act and some help pulling it together -- as vague as the deadline(sometime) and the offer of help (whatever) were -- this possibility became frightening. And I can see what she means. This is something important to her that she's been nurturing the idea of for a long time.

When you're acting, there's that sort of invisible fourth wall that the playwright builds between you and the audience. No matter how raw or exposed you may seem to be on the stage, there's always that thin, invisible barrier to hide behind. But in a cabaret act, you're right there with the audience mere feet away. And you have to relate directly to them. And what if they don't like you or the songs aren't any good, or the voice isn't as good as you thought it was, or... or... or...

Yesterday afternoon, I went to hear Ellis Paul at a club here in St. Louis. Bear with me, here. I'm actually going to make a point soon.

Anyway, I went to hear Ellis Paul at a club here in St. Louis. Now I'm not much of a fan of singer-songwriters, preferring my folk music to be played on fiddles and banjos and to be a hundred or so years old. But Ellis is one of those few singer-songwriters that I really enjoy. I do my best to catch him whenever he plays here in St. Louis. His songs are generally uplifting, even when they're about loss or sorrow. I go to his live shows and always come away feeling better. There's just such an exuberance and energy that fills the stage when Ellis is up there. For me, anyway, one of his concerts is a way for me to get my reserves of happiness and hopefulness refilled.

So, I'm sitting there watching this guy up on the stage smiling and singing at the top of his voice, strumming the guitar like this may be his last chance to do it and he wants to enjoy every chord. And a light bulb clicked on in my head for me. If people walked around with thought ballons over ther heads like in the comics, right then, mine would have had a light bulb in it with wiggly lines radiating from it to show how bright it was. I mean, this was one of those real "light bulb: moments you hear about. I thought,
"This is what it's about. This guy is standing up on a stage and singing about such personal stuff with such a positive attitiude. He's in front of a whole crowd of people he doesn't know, doing something that could be hugely embarrassing. But he's fearless. He's having the time of his life."

And you know what? So were all the people in the audience.

And I knew at that moment that there really aren't any excuses. We're all meant to be having a good time and doing what we love; trying things we usually only think about. Sure, stuff gets in the way. Yeah, we might not be good at it the first time out. We probably will have to put some sweat and time into it. But when you get there.... when it finally happens for you... Wow.

Doesn't matter if it's learning the fiddle in middle age, or playing in a really good old-time dance band. Or acting, or writing poetry or that novel you know you have in you. If it's painting still lifes or pictures of tree tops and clouds in the sky, starting a garden in the back yard, losing weight, making new friends, learning to tap dance or to do magic tricks. And keeping at it until it feels right and you know you're good at it.

Or putting that cabaret act together, rehearsing it, and taking it out in front of people.

Whatever it is that you know you need to do to let you be the happiest person in the room, it's time right now to do it. As one of Ellis Paul's songs goes,

"You gotta get going,

Hey, the world ain't slowin' down

For no one."