MySpace - The Rich - 32 - Male - NEW YORK, NEW YORK

I wasn't born in a trunk at the Palace Theatre or even born on the fourth of July, but I have been on stage since infancy. My father was a square dance caller amongst a million other hats he wore, and a couple of weeks after I was born he was calling with me on his shoulder. I was a lead (I spoke) in my nursery school shows and I did umpteen Christmas pageants through church. I was the only one in my third grade class to have a dual role in our class play about Christopher Columbus. (I was asked for a full autobiography, and "if they asked me I could write a book.") I was in a separate class for the gifted from third grade until sixth; the school didn't offer the program after that. I was in the all county chorus, and I took tap for five years. I did school shows in middle school. I took cello for six years, but I sucked. Why they didn't teach us theory first is beyond me. I was one of the first Tiger Cubs in New York. I continued on with Boy Scouts until Eagle. In fact I was one of the super scouts of Nassau County. I was the Chapter Chief for the Pequott District of the Order of the Arrow, a group of honored scouters elected by their peers. I was in charge of people from five surrounding towns. I was also one of four Assistant Senior Patrol Leaders (the VPs) to the contingent from Long Island to the '93 National Jamboree (I'm going for the Reader's Digest version here, but it hurts.) At 17 I was the youngest voting member of my church's council in our history. Three friends and I reformed the youth fellowship. I also taught Sunday School for two years with a good friend (who gave birth to a bouncing baby boy, I hope they aren't bouncing him really!!!) My mother was the church secretary at the Wantagh Memorial Congregational Church of the United Church of Christ (we're not the Mormons, we're the ones that burned the witches.) I spent more waking hours there than in my own home. I was a lead in almost every show I did in high school, and in community theatre. In my senior year I went to a performing arts high school half the day, and attended regular high school the other half or when the mood took me. Life was not all sunshine and roses. My mother was brought into the hospital early in my ninth grade year of high school. She had Diverticulitis, and her bed stay there gave her a fierce case of sciatica. She landed in a severe depression until late that spring. Just as she pulled out of that my father was brought to the hospital. He had Diabetes, and they didn't catch it in time. Over the next few years he lost all but two toes and had innumerable other complications. I actually had to cut the gangrene out of his foot one day. He stayed in a hospital bed in our dining room for seven or eight years unless he was in a hospital. My mother was 45 when I was born, and my father was 52. In '76 that was huge. I was an eleven-month pregnancy. In fact my parents were allowed to choose my birth date so they chose the date of their first date. My parents were very much in love. I can only hope to have what they did. They met in a choral group, and their engagement was announced from the stage of the Brooklyn Academy of Music. My father was an artist who could sing, my mother was a singer who could draw. Good Match, no?!?!?! I babysat my sister-in-law's sister's son, for two years, after school. In January of my senior year he died of asthma. He fell asleep on his nebulizer before bed one night after a school dance and he never woke up. It was two weeks before his thirteenth birthday. That same night I had a huge fight with a couple of my closest friends, and was left very alone. I fell into a depression that didn't want to leave for years to follow. Being completely burned out I decided to take a semester off before college. I entered the work force. This didn't agree with me. (Go to college as soon as you graduate high school. It has to be easier. I'm not talking about the subject matter.) That spring I started at the University of Hartford, the Hartt School of Music for Musical Theatre. I carried a 3.64, (which would have been higher, but my English teacher was a moron and head of the department. I was SOL!) That fall, after returning, I was informed that the money I was told would be there was not, and I would have to leave. This hurt me greatly again. Although I was intelligent, I had never applied myself prior (I never saw a need), and now I was getting no recognition for it. I had made great friends at the school. I had learned more than I had hoped in that lone semester. I was crushed. The one saving grace was that my mother had talked to my old voice teacher who was also the conductor of the Bel Canto Chorale. The chorus was going to sing at Carnegie Hall that December, my mother was a member, and I was invited by the conductor to be a part of it. I got to sing at Carnegie Hall at 19 with my mother. That's a terrific memory for me. I came back home to a job at the local record store, the Wall (I'm pissed about the stickers too.) These guys were never in positions of authority before, and I just smiled and nodded a lot. That spring I tried to go back to school at the local community college, but my credits didn't transfer in time, and they put me in courses I had already taken. These students were all slow, and didn't want to be there. They told me I didn't have an inoculation that I needed in order to attend the school more than halfway through the semester, and I lost complete patience. My father took a bad turn, my mother needed help, and the show was over. I had a lead in that too. Not bad for Acting I! I had to leave. The show had too many conflicts with my work schedule so I had left the job before the rest of the nonsense struck. I was again at the bottom of this pit. I got a job working with some friends at an artificial Italian corporate restaurant, (while I was hosting there people regularly told me how delicious the food was. I smiled and nodded a lot.) and they encouraged me to get a job at Tower Records. Very Chic! So I applied, tested, and I was hired. Who knew?! I stayed there two years. The job was less than I was hoping for. I did some better community theatre, and while doing Godspell, even dated my director/musical director/Jesus. Did I mention I was Gay yet? Well, I'm gay too. Makes the whole story better doesn't it? In February of '99 my father passed away in his sleep. If the coroner was right, I was sitting next to him when it happened. I had just gotten home from the bar. A place I had come to know quite well at that point. Well, that was devastating and I decided I needed to go get a "real" job because Tower Records lost it's chic and I was going to have to be a "real" adult. So, after a great deal of coaxing,(the girl filled out the ap. for me!!!) I went to work for Lufthansa. This was a good job, with good benefits. I liked most of my supervisors. I loved the girls I worked with. I was good at it, but sitting on my ass from nine to five with a half hour lunch break and all that other crap wasn't doing it for me. I moved in with some friends in Forest Hills. The rent was really low for the area. I was trying to be the image of an adult, but I was hurting myself. I started M.C.ing a game show at the bar one night a week, and it was wonderful. I met one of my best friends doing that. It was great fun, and it kept me sane. My mother was taken to the hospital on January 2, 2000. Her Diverticulitis came back. She hadn't bothered to take care of it anymore. She had many intense surgeries and was in intensive care. She had given up. At one point things were looking up. The doctor said my mother would be coming home. My job offered me family leave and explained I could take time off to cover things if I needed to. I took a week to prepare the house for her return. I was done doing what I needed within the first three so I returned to work on Thurs. I was unaware that it would be the last time. On Thurs. February fourth I was fired from Lufthansa, my mother went back into surgery, and I was seriously rear ended by a Bell Atlantic Truck. I immediately started laughing. Shit like this doesn't really happen. I actually felt a great weight lifted off my shoulders when they told me I was "Terminated," their choice of words was pretty funny too. I guess I should have sued, but I was in my early twenties and more pressing matters were on my head, but there went my income. Remember that depression I talked about? Right at that time one of the bartenders was leaving, so I picked up a couple of shifts at the bar. I was there for about two years. My mother died in May of 2000. (I had written this the first week of Sept. 2001 for a class I had just started at Hunter College. This was my third attempt at a degree. A lot has happened since. I need to revise the end and add what's happened.) (More to come later.)

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