the play's the thing

I believe Bill Shakespeare when he told the world that it was a stage. The older I get the more I realize that his thoughts, unlike his initials, were not BS at all. I try to look at the world through his words, treating everyone I meet (man or woman) as an actor, a “player,” if you will. (PS – and in Los Angeles that’s not at all hard to do considering that most people actually are actors). Ponder, for a moment, this treat-let from AS YOU LIKE IT:

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,

I learned to recite this passage (actually, the passage in its entirety) at the ripe old age of, oh, let’s say 12. I even made the aforementioned my “senior quote” in the high school yearbook, so you know it’s been floating around on and off in my head for quite some time. The words are fairly simple, but the idea is pretty big stuff. “And one man in his time plays many parts” – that says a lot to me. What, you may ask? Lemme ‘splain…

In short: this passage, to me, takes a lot of pressure off of livin.’ Really. If all that this world amounts to is one giant stage on which we, through our lifetime, will play MANY parts, then I better get to some auditions fast! It’s all just one big show. The curtain rises at our birth and falls at our death and there’s a brief intermission somewhere there in the middle that for each of us is different. Some people consider their intermission a mid-life crisis. They come back to the theatre after going to pee and they’ve got a new sports car. Others take their intermission a little later, after retirement, using it as a time to “go outside and get some fresh air.”

Now let me clear up one thing real quick: the “many parts” bit doesn’t mean that we are all going around playing “characters,” per se. These “parts” that Bill (and I) speak of here are the natural progressions of who we are (or become) at different stages in our lives, mostly thanks to natural aging and/or the experiences we have along the way. These are parts we are "type cast" for, not the long shots.

I do agree that there are, though, definitely times where the costumes we don or the lines that we read are not entirely of our own choosing. Sometimes we even try to steal the limelight, knowing full and well that it's not our time to have the lead but wanting it so badly we can taste it. And sometimes we do forget that we're playing a part and get so wrapped up in it that we forget who we are outside of the theatre doors. But it makes sense that if the audience loves it, you’ll milk whatever character you can for all it’s worth. That's why I think some people are so unhappy. They start making a lot of money or start gaining some sort of fame and they feel like the only way to stay on the up is to play that character, whoever he or she is, for as long as they can. Some people just refuse to "grow up" or "move on" to the next Act. You've just got to. It's all metaphorical really and I'm sure that my thoughts here are not coming across as coherent and cohesive as I would have hoped. I'm forgetting my lines...

I always like to play the lead, I know that for sure. I'm very aware of what play I'm in at all times. Right now, for instance, I'm in a show that's sweeping the Great White Way entitled Chained to a Desk: The Assistant's Story. It's a real tear-jerker filled with monster diva ballads like "My Eyes Burn from this Computer" and "Papercut: Infection." You should get tix.

I guess I'm more rambling now, as my mind is being diverted. My director is yelling something to me from offstage. I better take my bow soon.

At any rate, next time you get a chance to stop and look around you just think about what old Bill said. Who's show are you watching? Or, perhaps more importantly, what part are you playing in it?