61 Years And Still Here: Hump Day Postcards

 

                                                            21 October 2026

    Today is my mom's 82nd birthday.

    Today is the day after Zippy Martin left us over the rainbow bridge. He was an Excellent Good Boy and will be sorely missed. He was an angel on earth who needed to go back to heaven.

    Today is the day I made a kid cry about his monologue.

     Hear me out. 

     It had nothing to do with his projection or enunciation or any mechanical aspect. It was not because I Am Mean.

     It's also a monologue he chose himself, so it's not on me for forcing him to be Tom in Glass Menagerie. Again, this is not because I Am Mean.

    I pulled monologues from several different plays. The one he chose was Fat Pig by Neil LeBute. As with all pieces that I pull, they are written by real playwrights and are from real plays. Which means, they're really well written.

   I suspected something was amiss when he chose it. He's a quiet kid, seemingly non binary and has never said anything about dating, so I was surprised at first, because it's a monologue about breaking up with a woman because of pressure from friends. Then I realized he was attaching to the deeper social commentary, beyond a man falling in love with a plus size woman; he was feeling this conflict in his soul.

   He is not officially enrolled in this acting class due to his concurrent enrollment college schedule. But he attends every M/T/F and arrives 30 minutes late on Weds after college like clockwork. That's how much he values theatre.

    And by extension, that is how much I value his commitment.

   So today we were working through beats and intentions. He arrived at 1 and was the last to read. Which worked out well as he stopped cold and started crying when I asked why his character couldn't speak to Helen face to face. He'd clearly planned the speech, why was he coming apart in delivering it?

    Another student prompted "He's conflicted because he wants his friends to like him but he's in love with her."

    Bingo.

    Sobbing.

    Clean up on aisle 7.

    My work here is done. I'll be at my desk cursing Past Me for not loading my drawer with more chocolate .