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Blog Entry 48 of 51 Something to think about...

An occasional visit to things that make you go "hmmm..." opinions on life in the world close up and far away. By trade, I'm a community reporter covering Santa Clarita and Antelope Valleys for the Daily News, but can't help thinking outside the box sometimes...in the spirit of full disclosure, I'm involved with the Canyon Theatre Guild and Newhall Redevelopment, so history and the arts are pretty important to me. I'm open to discussions, suggestions, criticisms and compliments. I might not like what you say, but I'll defend your right to say it. Shall we?

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Another bird leaves the nest

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Contributed by: Carol Rock on 9/4/2007

Talking about box office expectations with local theater folk, I heard that "Forever Plaid," the four-star musical featuring songs of the 50s now playing at the Canyon Theatre Guild wasn't drawing the numbers of senior citizens they thought it would.

Turns out the sold-out houses are filled not with blue hairs, but baby boomers.

(It makes me wonder what color we'll pick for our aging follicles...ah well, my motto has been "Better Red Than Dead" for a while.)

Likewise, when I saw "Jersey Boys" at the Ahmanson, the audience skewed much closer to my age than the senior set. When I heard those songs the first time, Frankie Valli and the boys were singing to me, nobody else. At least that's what I believed then.

Both shows are awesome and filled with great music - "Moments to Remember," "Big Girls Don't Cry," "No, Not Much," "My Eyes Adored You" and "Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing" to pick just a few - and they made me think about how the background music of our formative years affects our journey the rest of the way.

With us downtown last week was a young man who is smack in the middle of those years that make us what we are. On the weekends, he sings the songs of my youth as Frankie in "Plaid," which closes this Friday night. Next Friday, he'll be playing the music of Journey with cover band "Lights" at the Sagebrush Cantina.

And 16 days from now, he will leave on the trip of a lifetime.

No, he's not going in to the service or on a humanitarian mission in a country that's hard to pronounce.

He's going East to find out if he can be a Jersey Boy. Or mad scientist Jekyll. Or Corny Collins. Or Fiyero. This kid can sing. And act. And dance. I know, I've done all three with him and he's a star.

His parents are pretty talented, too, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. His mom is experiencing the same mixture of excited apprehension and borderline depression that every mother does when their baby bird perched on the edge of the nest finally spreads its wings, takes a tiny hop and soars off, but she's keeping a stiff upper lip.

That's partly because she remembers back in the day, when she was a young actress with a pretty decent set of pipes and limber gams. She packed her bag and headed to New York to see if she could make it on the Great White Way.

And oh, the New York stories she tells now. Among her memories are some good reviews, loads of colorful pictures, and a couple of ex-husbands whose names graced more than a few Broadway programs. In other words, she took a sizable bite from The Big Apple and learned that there really is no business like show business.

Now she teaches theater to young people and along with blocking, emoting, music and stage presence, she provides a reality check for the young ones, reminding them that success is not easy and that theater is hard work.

Her son knows that and he's ready for the challenge. He's done community and regional theater, performed on some of the area's bigger stages and has made more than one person comment "you're good enough for Broadway."

Walking with him along the plaza last week, I asked him if he was scared.

"Yeah, and excited, not really knowing what's going to happen," he said. "But if I don't try, I'll never know."

Exactly.

I used to wear a button that said "Don't Die Wondering." I still have it and still believe in its message: if you don't try, you'll never really know.

There is a safety net for our young friend on the East Coast, where he'll stay with his brother who lives about an hour's train ride from New York's theater district. With his skills as a musician and bartending, he should be able to pick up pocket change that will keep him going through the audition process. And his easygoing personality should help him make friends and connections.

The only sure thing is that he has to go. Now.

Before he gets old enough to have reservations. Before he's old enough to worry. Before he's got the responsibility of a wife or kids or a mortgage, those barriers to greatness that hold back some amazing talent.

My money is on him making it work. Building a resume and a bank account and a long litany of stories that his friends in California will ask him to tell over and over.

For his parents, who are incredibly supportive (and not every young performer has those at home), I wish them time on the phone and the Web to stay in touch, but wisdom to let him spread those wings and fall out of the tree a few times. He'll bounce, trust me. You taught him well.

And for my young friend, know you're loved and that we think you're just swell. Have fun making your own "Moments to Remember."

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