Front Row Seats

Al & Pat Smith took Jeanette and I to the Amarillo Little Theater's production of Hello, Dolly! tonight. I loved it. The performers, all local talent, including several kids from area high schools, did a remarkably good job at taking me to another time and place and feel a wide range of emotions. Al & Pat, big time patrons of the arts and long-time supporters of the Little Theater, invited us to join them and their friends on the theater's front row. Now, front row seats can be great. Walking up to them, one has the confidence of knowing that people are watching you, knowing that you paid more for your seats (or someone did) than they did. Sitting in them, you know that you won't have anyone interfere with your visual line of sight. It's just you and the cast. But front row seats have a down side. First, there's that spray. That mist that gently coats you and your neighbors when the chorus performs that rousing number in a line just above you. Second, there's the forest-for-the-trees phenomenon. You're so close that you can see everything and every one. But did you get the picture. The big picture. The meaning. The message. I have to admit. During some numbers, I found myself wondering about the FM technology of their microphones. Getting too close to something, you can miss its truth; so close to someone and miss their beauty. And finally, a front row seat carries with it a burden of responsibility. When the front row stands as the finale winds down, everyone else knows that the production was a smash hit. Others get it. The mark's been hit! The wine is good! The emporer has clothes! That's a lot of pressure. And responsibility. Defining reality is serious business and defining it for others carries a lot of responsibility. So what did I do with my responsibility? What do you think? I looked around, during the final number, acting like I wanted a better view of the cast on the extreme stages left and right. With my superior peripheral vision I immediately recognized the unmistakable wave of humanity leaping to rescue the poor soul who, risking reputation and respect, stood to support the performers. As the wave approached -- from back to front-- I waited patiently for it to reach me. In time with the music, I rose with my neighbors to take my stand as a fan in the truest sense of the word, and took my place in the blessed circle of the standing "O." The cast included a former student at the American Musical Dramatic Academy in New York where my brother, Richard, teaches. Richard's spent a lifetime helping people, including me, to produce and appreciate musical theater. I thought about Richard a lot tonight, and realized I miss him along with a lot of others back in the Northeast. Despite how much I miss my family and friends, I feel good about being in Amarillo. It may not be Broadway, but at least I'm sitting in the front row.