An Open Love Letter To Bud Simmons

   I'm not sure if I was supposed to ask permission to use Bud's name or not. Since this is a personal blog, I'm not sure I'm overstepping. But then I may be overstepping, and later decide to change to just his initials. Like my blog is so widespread and fashionable that it is a threat to his privacy. I have a handful of people who read this, many of whom also know and love him. But still...lemme write and see where it goes. If he reads it and is pissed, I'll change it.
   I  just saw Legally Blonde at Green Mountain High School tonight. We did the show last week at LHS, and I was conflicted about attending. I tend to avoid attending high school theatre productions. Truly, I do not see much theatre at all. It isn't anything more than the fact that The Bitch--Theatre---has already eaten so much of  my life that I will say no to a show in order to spend time with my family. That's all.
  Additionally, I had just directed the show. Why would I give up time at home with Jim and a bottle of red wine to see a show I just directed?
   To answer that, we embark on a journey.
   Every year I embark on a musical. Involuntarily and by contractual obligation, I agree to direct a musical.
   I do not like directing musicals. I don't understand them. They don't speak to me. I get that they are necessary for the survival of a high school theatre, and I get that it's a way for more kids to be involved, and blapppity bloppity bloo. I still do not like the damned things.
   Of course that is a very general statement. Some musicals I do like. I like HAIR. I like Little Shop of Horrors, and I got to direct that one! I like The Pirates of Penzance. And Chicago. There are a few. But mostly...I hate the suckers.  There are too many kids, it's less like directing and more like ferret wrangling. Ferrets on triple espressos. With very demanding soccer schedules and voice lessons.
   I liked them when I was in them. Performing in musicals is a kick in the pants. Directing musicals is a kick in the head.
   So after wrangling Legally Blonde into submission with a vocal director, pit conductor (pit comprised entirely of students, Thank You Don Emmons), a set designer, a choreographer and a student director, the last thing I wanted to watch was somebody else's production of Legally Blonde.
  I encourage my Thespians to see outside shows. Other high school shows, professional shows, DCPA and the LIDA Project shows. Go. SEE THEATRE I scream at them, and then I go home and Refuse To See Theatre. I'm a hypocrite. I'm good with it.
   So when MTI decided they no longer regulate who gets the rights to what show when, and four high school productions of Legally Blonde were running within two weeks of each other, they wanted to go.
   Of course they did.
   One of the schools was GMHS, from whence I graduated. Many years ago, in a galaxy far , far away when Bud Simmons ran that theatre like a tiny little theatre academy, The Starkeys Ruled All Things Literary and the guy running Jeffco was named "Dr. Pepper".
   Sigh.
   Much water has passed under the bridge and many stories have been told. At this moment, the story of How Great Bud Simmons was is my focus. We'll get to me later. Or not.
   I have studied with many greats in my life. I have a very impressive resume--whoo hooo, good for me. I put no stock in resumes. Show me what you got. I'm only as good as my last show. But the reason I do this is because, in high school, I had the best.
   GMHS theatre under Bud was unique. Not because I thought it was. Everyone thinks their theatre is better. They are, for the most part, delusional. They are misinformed (if they are nice people) and delusional (if they are mean) because they have never experienced anything else to compare themselves to.  This is cowardly. I saw other shows in high school, and I know we were solid. I also know that I was taught to be professional, to understand "type", to fear Broadway auditions and to respect this Bitch I was coming to worship.
   This was not taught to me. Bud did not lecture. I remember not a single lecture. In fact I remember many rounds of charades when he was just too freaking tired to teach because he was directing the musical.He would speak in gestures---we came to fear his hand to head. He would stand on the stage with his hands in his pockets and stare thoughtfully at the set. He was mean as a snake but I worshipped him because he knew what the hell he was doing. He led by example.
   I will avoid a critique here of the show tonight. It's not necessary. 
   What I wanted to do was write an Epic Poem to Bud Simmons. I wanted to cry and sing my love to the man who instilled this love in me. Who introduced me to The Bitch that I would come to worship, to sacrifice for, to dance around and love as if I was a Dionysun drunk with applause and anonymoous admiration.
    I love This Bitch. She has been calling the shots for over 30 years. I have given up birthdays, family functions, job offers and time time time so much freaking time to do her bidding. And she and I argue and she pisses me off and we fight and I scratch and claw and give up yet another day to cover the costumer's job, or come in so Boy Scouts can build her a new light storage rack, or make decisions because we are Sold Out and people want seats.
   I Love This Bitch.And I would not have met her if it wasn't for that crazy ass mean bald guy who would growl "Wyckoff, what the hell are we gonna do about your hair?"
   Because regardless of the growling and posturing two things were clear: He loved This Bitch. And He Knew What He Was Talking About.
   My students have heard me proclaim my love for Bud at many candles over the years. I've even sent Bud himself a blathering, slobbering email about how much he's done for me. He pretty much goes "pfffft" and returns to his life. And I smile and tear up and hope I am one third of the teacher he was.
   And the music swells...and Mufasa's face parts the clouds...and they sing "he lives in you".

   Ya. It's like that.


Legally  Blonde, Littleton High School