I think I need a grown-up. Where’s the grown-up?

Monday night, at around quarter of 8, the audience started arriving. You know, groups of friends from all different parts of my life. It was overwhelming, like a This Is Your Life episode. Door opens. Oh my God, it’s Jackie?? Door opens. Argh, here comes Pat, Michele and Jacki. Door opens. BROOKE. LIZ. Door opens. Dan came? Yay! Rachel!! Allison! Brenda! Jess! Barbara!! And etc. Ad nauseum. I am so grateful to everyone who showed up. It was a nice substantial crowd, which I think was important. It wasn’t 6 or 7 people, it was more like 20 – and that really made it feel different, as in: the script really needs to sink or swim here. No pressure or anything like that. Jimmy, the owner of the place, walked me through the space beforehand, showing me the light dimmers and all that. We had lights on the stage, and the “house” (a small room, with little tables and chairs and benches along the side) was in darkness. People could order a drink at the bar out in the main area, and then come in and sit at a little table. So it was nice and cozy. Informal.

People all arrived at around the same time, so we were ready to get started at around 8:15, just like I had pictured in my cray-cray little head.

David and Jen, the actors, were sitting up on the stage, looking through their scripts. Ben, the actor reading stage directions, was also up onstage. The lights were on them, the house was in darkness. I stood in the back.

I knew I had wanted to make some sort of introductory speech. You know: tell people to shut their cell phones off, first of all. But also to say a few words about the project, introduce the actors, thank everyone for coming. And then step to the back of the room, and let Ben start the thing with the opening stage directions.

But I had a moment that makes me laugh now in remembrance. I stood in the back, so I was looking at the backs of everyone’s heads in the audience. All my friends and family. Chatting, with drinks on the table. David and Jen sat in the light onstage, serious, flipping through their scripts. Ben sat in his chair, waiting quietly.

And I had this moment of thinking:

Okay, I need a GROWNUP now to take charge of this situation. I need the ADULT to go up there and make the speech. I certainly can’t do it! I’m only 11 years old right now! Where is the grown-up?? Can I get an ADULT to go up there and say a few words?

I’ve been in a ton of readings as an actress. I’ve been David or Jen more times than I can speak. You sit up there, gearing up your forces, dealing with nerves, relaxing quietly, getting ready to work and show the script. You are not “in charge” – at least not at that point. Once the reading starts, it’s ALL you, you are the ONLY one in charge, but in the moments beforehand, you have no tasks but to quietly get ready to work. Then the director or the writer comes up, says a few gracious words … and you are then handed the torch.

So standing back there, I felt a sudden bolt of panic, because I didn’t know where the GROWNUP was who could do that … and then I realized: Oh right. It’s me.

I’M the grownup here.

No getting around it. No hiding from it. There is no reason for any of this to be occurring if it weren’t for me. It is a very strange sensation – and wholly new to me. It’s strange to be at my advanced age and have what can be classified as a NEW experience. I’m thrilled about it.

But in that moment in the back, I had a tug of resistance, my spirit calling out to some OTHER grownup to take charge. It can’t be me who has to go up there and speak, can it?

I took a deep breath and walked forward.

Yup. It’s me. This is my job. I can do it. I know what to do. No one to look to but myself.

And then, another new sensation, I made my introductory speech, ended with, “Thanks for coming, I hope you enjoy it …” and then …. stepped back into the darkness, the back of the room. Leaving the stage to the actors.

Take it away.