Just on the heels of watching my 9-year-old daughter fall in love with theatre as a Munchkin and Flying Monkey in “The Wizard of Oz” – the very same show that gave me my first big on-stage thrills – I am having another set of flashbacks.
Right now, I am on a brief break between scenes in a living room production of “Annie.” Clara, Daisy and a friend are watching the original 1980’s movie and playing along. Of course, I was cast as the villain. I am also sworn to secrecy about this production. (Oops.)
30 years ago, I spent long summer days in the back yard doing almost the exact same thing with the very same show – only back then, we didn’t even have VHS players, much less Netflix. Our productions were staged with a record player plugged into an extension cord and dragged onto the patio.
It’s cute, and funny, and surreal to watch my own history repeat itself. At least, it is for now.
I just got called back on “stage” to yell at some orphans. Pardon the interruption. “Kill, kill, KILL!”
I also need to go pour something fun to drink.
“You have to be Miss Hannigan, and you HAVE to act drunk, Mom,” Clara insisted. Ummmm, okay.