I love theatre. Particularly children’s theatre. It is fun, it is challenging, it is honest, and it is spectacle, and musical, and pure high energy storytelling. I was so excited when given the opportunity to work on this project with SLAC. I have performed in and directed other children’s theatre projects, but this was the first time that I knew my own son would get the opportunity to attend, watch, and really appreciate what it is that I love to do. What I work so hard to perfect, and what I pray I will always be able to have apart of my life.

The story of “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” can seem so simplistic. A treat is shared and that action results in an effect, which in turn prompts a secondary action. This chain continues until ultimately the exact same action that started the whole process is about to be repeated. I often wonder what might transpire if the story was allowed to continue. If following the exchange of a second cookie, would the subsequent actions repeat? Would lessons have been learned? Would the characters find alternative tactics or make different choices? Would the cycle repeat a third time, or be discarded? What if the boy refused to give another cookie?

When I was in seventh grade, I auditioned for my first show. I had never really considered being an actor before. I wanted to be an athlete. I loved little league and playing street football. But it was about that time in my life when my body decided it did not want to grow quite the same way as the other boys. They continued to grow and I stayed the same. I had to find a new niche. A place to play and a place to seek the rush that athletic achievements used to provide. I remember my mother driving me home from somewhere in the little town of Hurricane where I grew up, past a large sign advertising auditions for the upcoming musical of Lil’ Abner. My interest was peaked, and I think I simply read the sign aloud and my mom quickly expressed that I should give it a shot.

I auditioned. I think. I don’t really remember what was asked or what I did. I was cast as a chorus member from what I am sure was necessity as opposed to talent. No lines. No special assignments. I was just part of the show, and I loved it. I was eventually given some lines as the “Government Man” when the boy originally cast in the role stopped attending rehearsals. I wish I could remember what those lines were.  I remember that it was my job to volunteer to drink a sampling of a special brew that seemed responsible for the manliness of Lil’ Abner. The town in which he lived was in peril and the town’s folk were desperate for a source of significance to save their homes. I partook and through the magic of high school theatre I was transformed from a 4’ 10” 102 pound weakling into a 6’ 185 lb stud. (That part was played by another actor of course.) The audience loved the transformation. It was simple, but magical. I can’t say that from that point on I was committed to the stage, but I certainly wanted to try again.

Since that show seventeen years ago, I have repeated the cycle of theatre many times. Nervously audition, get cast, learn lines, block the show, define the character, panic, rehearse more, technical rehearsals, dress rehearsals, previews, opening nights, blown lines, perfect runs, audience reactions, critics reviews, matinees, the rush, the burnouts, closing nights, cast parties, and ultimately the emptiness that comes when it is all over and you realize that there no guarantee that you will ever get the opportunity to experience the process again.

If I think of myself as the mouse, than the roles I am given is the cookie. The directors cast me and hand the cookie over. What happens next is much like the story. Complete mayhem, lots of fun, lifelong friendships, and ending with a desire for another. I’m addicted to those cookies, and since this is my blog, I want to take a second to truly thank all those directors who have offered them to me and have fueled my addiction. From Mrs. Butterfield who gave me that first small cookie 17 years ago, to Rich Hill my friend and teacher. Varlo, Brent, and Andra who saw potential and helped draw it out. Adrianne and Tobin for believing in me more than even I did. Joanne whose small simple and maybe even forgotten cookie saved my life at a time when I felt nothing good and wholesome could ever happen to me. And finally to Penny. For this wonderful experience. For your trust and support. And the opportunity to be apart of something greater than ourselves, that will hopefully reach some child somewhere (possibly my own son) and inspire them to seek the enrichment, the joy, and the satisfaction from theatre that it has so kindly given me.

IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE by Laura Joffe Numeroff & adapted for the stage by Jody Davidson, playing now until December 26.  Tickets available online or by calling the Box Office: 801.363.7522.