Impressive piece of local theater

It's possible, I suppose, that my career on the stage could have been briefer.

Possible, but unlikely.

I made my debut in first grade in a play about the Easter bunny. My role was as a rank-and-file bunny standing in the background. My costume was a strip of construction paper taped to form a ring that would fit over my very round head and two construction paper bunny ears that were taped to the paper ring.

Pretty dashing, I think you'll agree.

For some reason, critics didn't complain in second or third grade when my career failed to gain momentum.

In the fourth grade, I tried for a comeback. Again, I was in the background.

The production was an extravaganza of Indiana history written by fourth grade teacher Madonna Miller brought to the stage of the Judge Haynes all-purpose room thanks to the combined firepower of Miss Miller's class and Paul Macklin's, where I was a student.

In some scenes, I was an Indian. In others, a pioneer.

My chameleon-like ability to play dual roles must have dazzled the audience, but mostly I remember goofing around backstage during rehearsals and the production itself.

Apparently, that was when I peaked.

Though I appeared briefly in a couple of variety shows - memorably as a straight man for the late, great Randy Poole - my dramatic career was pretty much over.

(By the way, as those of us who remember Randy will tell you, everyone on earth was his straight man. He got all the laughs.)

There was a feeble attempt at a revival in college when I mumbled some words in a coffee house production of a play by William Butler Yeats.

But that was pretty much it.

I mention all this simply because it underscores my admiration for those who do what I've never really been able to do: Act. Get up on stage. Memorize lines. Risk embarrassment and humiliation. Put on a show.

That admiration ratcheted up several notches last weekend when Connie and I went to see "Noises Off" at Arts Place.

The play - a farce within a farce - is a favorite of ours. We saw an outstanding production of it at the Stratford Festival in Ontario a few years ago that still brings a smile to my face.

It's also incredibly complicated to produce even with the best of professional resources.

The notion of taking it on with community theater volunteers, designing and building a wildly complicated set on a small stage, and making hundreds of moments of critical comedic timing work simply boggles the mind.

But they did it.

In fact, I'd have to say I've never seen a finer bit of community theater anywhere at any time.

Maybe it succeeded because taking on the impossible has always been a part of Jay County Civic Theatre's mission.

After all, how many communities of about 21,000 people can sustain a civic drama group at all?

Usually, organizations like this burn out like a comet, putting on a few productions then running out of steam. That's what happened, apparently, back in the 1930s or '40s when a Portland Civic Theatre group formed.

(I remember my parents talking with delight about a memorable production by that short-lived group of "Arsenic and Old Lace." It featured local banker Haynes Starbuck as the character who thought he was Teddy Roosevelt and kept yelling "Charge!")

But Jay County Civic Theatre keeps plugging along, replenishing itself with new faces and new energy. It's been doing that for more than 25 years now, and it shows no signs of slowing down any time soon.[[In-content Ad]]