She's Gonna Be Popular....With Broadway Audiences

I have no children of my own.

I have neices, one nephew, one god-daughter, one unofficial god-daughter (that I share with her official god-father), a barrage of children of close friends who call me Uncle Ste and a lot of people that I love, as though they were my children--I believe these are usually called friends.

I don't want children.

I would be a terrible father. I am selfish and demanding and I have a set of standards that I have been told is impossible to meet. It is difficult enough to be a good Uncle, Godfather and friend--being a parent is simply not in my cards. That does not mean that I am not devoted to each and every one of the people; in fact, it is for these people in my life that I experience my greatest moments of joy.

When good things happen to me, I am happy. Well, the truth is, I actually work at and focus on being happy all the time; or at least as much of the time as I possibly can. So when something good happens to me, it frosts my cake. When something good happens to someone I love, it lights the candles. In my adult years I have been made delirious, ecstatic, thrilled by weddings (even the ones I could not attend, like Natasha and Michael Halling), births (have mercy--the Connors have three, the Fords have three, the Gales have two, the Westfalls have two--who is next?), mortgages being paid off (I thought I would lose it when Mark Irish paid off their mortgage for David Schmittou's fortieth birthday); there have been business successes (every time something good happens to the PMS KOOKIE KOMPANY I feel like it is my own success), personal achievments (AJ fought his way back from a year of bodily injury to get back his sexy-ass body), promotions (Steve Kaplan is the head of the drama department at LaGuardia High!)and simple personal marvels (Steve Spraragen and Domonick Wigeson--which I always mispell--are an inspiration to me for their ongoing evolution into enlightenment) for which I have cheered my loved ones. There is just something special, though (for me, at least), when a friend lands on Broadway. Maybe it is because I wanted to be an actor for so long that I understand the desire, the longing to be on a Broadway stage. It's great when someone releases a cd (especially if I did the cover art!) or lands on television (hello! Paul Tigue is on tv all the time! Jonathan Chase went from off Broadway to the UPN in three years!). I have been over the moon just seeing Marci in a tv commercial, let alone when I saw her on the big screen in THE COOKOUT. I have wept while watching Tommy Foster do cabaret, laughed at Paul J. William's comic timing and traveled around the country to see friends in plays (except for Kaitlin, the best actress I know, who always gets gigs when I am flat out, down on my luck, broke and whose next out of town show I will go see, even if it is a play I hate). But I just loved it when J. Paul Boehmer did AN IDEAL HUSBAND and I went to absolute pieces when I saw FOUR friends on Broadway in MAMA MIA and I have been thrilled each time Michael Halling's name has appeared in a Broadway showcard window. It's just a thing with me. I go to pieces. It feels like it would be SO hard to get to Broadway; and I know people who do it!!

It’s thrilling.

I didn’t know Heather Spore in Texas. We didn’t, in fact, meet until we were both New Yorkers. We did, though, know each other by name and reputation. We all had the same friends, the came connections, the same kind of history. We landed in New York at separate times and, even then, didn’t meet and kept encountering people who knew us. When we finally met, she was living in the building RIGHT NEXT to the one where Pat and I live! Heavens to Murgatroyd.

I liked Heather, immediately. It did not take long to fall in love with her.

To tell you the things that Heather and I have experienced together, to tell you stories about being her next door neighbour, about being in her circle of friends, would be an unfair invasion of her privacy. So I can only tell you about myself.

I have spent holidays in her home and she in mine. She is a great cook and a great hostess. I have watched her decorate her building’s façade for the holidays and I have watched her do garden work in the tree wells up and down our block. I have done photos of her and I have sung with her (both of these, a thrill). I have seen her do Shakespeare and I have seen her in THE FANTASTICKS, each time marveling at the level of her God given gifts. I even watched her do a musical that I hated but loved every minute of her time onstage—every step, every sigh, every note sung. I have shared secrets and lessons with Heather and I have fought my battle with weight as she has fought hers, each of us supporting the other. I have loved her and liked her and even has estrangement from her (due to my own personal problems and my perceptions of those problems—none of which was her doing). I would say that we have experienced that which family members experience, be they family members of blood or of choice.

One day, a few years ago, Heather came to our home to seek a little light coaching for an audition for WICKED. We thought this was perfect, since she was a natural choice to cover Miss Chenoweth in the Glinda role. Heather worked hard on that audition but didn’t get it. They saw her several times over the next year or so and she didn’t get it. Apparently (I have been told) when casting a swing, an understudy or a cover, it is ALL about who can fit in the dress. Heather worked hard and MADE herself fit into that dress.

In 2005, at Thanksgiving dinner, Heather told me that, like most actors, she was down on her luck. She hadn’t worked in awhile and money was getting tight. She also told me that she felt like it would change. A few weeks later, she was hired to go into WICKED as a member of the chorus. We did not attend her first performance but went to the party celebrating it. We, ourselves, were down on our luck and money was getting tight. I hadn’t worked in almost two years and Pat’s money was paying for our life. A few short weeks later, Heather was made the third Glinda cover, a job that could never be taken away from her, owing to the type of contract she had.

Last Sunday, while in Texas for my father’s 70th birthday, I got a phone message from Heather’s best friend and one of my dearest family members, Natasha Harper. Heather was going on for Glinda at three o’clock. I had made this journey with Heather and, now, I was going to miss the pay off. I lay down on my bed and cried.

I came home last night, arriving on my doorstep around three-forty five. At five o’clock I went to the grocery store and, on my way home, I ran into Heather’s boyfriend, Brian—a man I admire and respect more than I can put into words. And when I saw him, I started to cry. Since coming home, I had been thinking of many things but my thoughts always went back to my sweet, beautiful, talented and deserving girlfriend and her journey to Oz. I asked Brian how it went and he simply glowed with pride. Not only was she wonderful but all her friends who went to the theater and did the WICKED lottery for tickets, got in. They were all there to see her.
I am, naturally, overwhelmed with happiness for Heather and disappointment for myself. The disappointment, I can handle. It’s just one of those life things. Instead, I must choose to focus on the greatness of the situation. A person I know and love is having a well-deserved success and is on Broadway, the place every actor wants to be—even Julia Roberts. Why shouldn’t I be overwhelmed with joy? Watching a loved one’s dreams come true is much better than living your own; believe me. I’ve done both and, while I love living my dream—I have to admit the thrill of watching my family get theirs is a greater high. The next time Heather Spore descends on Oz in her Broadway bubble, I WILL be in the audience. And I’m willing to bet she will not be the only one eight feet off the ground.

please note: i did not take the photo(s) shown in this piece.