OK, when last we left off I was getting ready to head into Manhattan to meet up with Bill and head up to Harlem. It had finally stopped raining and the temperatures were in the upper 50’s. Blue sky as the sun was going down and it felt quite nice.

I headed over to the Path train since it was too late to catch the bus. I walked over listening to Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, No Quarter: Unledded. Not too crowded heading into the city, going against the flow.

Reading Chris O’Dell’s book, Miss O’Dell. She was an employee at Apple records, friend of the Fabs and their wives, among other rock and roll groups and people. Fun, gossipy stuff.

When I got to 33rd Street I noticed the people coming down the stairs were all wet. Yes it started raining again. Not as bad as it was earlier in the day. I had my trusty umbrella and headed up to 42nd St, still listening to Plant and Page.

I was a bit early and decided to sit in the alcove next to Bill’s office building. It wasn’t too cold, still in the 50 degree range, so I sat and continued reading. A few people walking through, and one of them caught my eye.

It was Alice Genese, whom I’ve written about before. Always good to see Alice and we chatted. She had played at McSwells with Karen Kuhl last Friday and I apologized for not going, explaining that I really don’t go out anymore and plus I couldn’t afford to go out.

She understood and asked what I was doing sitting there. I told her that I was waiting for Bill before heading up to Harlem to help out with a stage reading of a play. I also expressed my nervousness but Alice was reassuring, saying that it would be fun and I would be fine.

Which is what a few people had told me in the comments previous, including Andrea Harbison and my brother Brian.

Bill came out a little while after Alice and I exchanged hugs and kisses and we headed over to the uptown train. It was of course a crowded train and as we rode uptown Bill asked if I had any questions about the role I would be reading.

I didn’t have any questions, just nervous. We got off at 145th Street and St. Nicholas. The theater for the Harlem School of the Arts is only a block away. We got inside one two or three people around, one of them an actor who was playing Barry that night.

A little while later the rest of the cast had shown up. The play was titled Ebony for Ivory and takes place in Asbury Park in 1968. Bill was in director mode, announcing that from now on he would be calling us by our character’s names.

The guy playing Barry was Lawrence in real life. I was Wiley, an apt name for my character since he’s a slimy manager of a sculptor named Rudy. We started before most of the audience came in since time was tight and we only had the space for two hours.

My lines began on page 38 and as I followed along I made mental notes to myself that my lines were coming up in 24 pages, 23 pages, 22, 21…

Everyone was doing a good job, being actors they read with emotions and passion and if I didn’t know what to do beforehand, I knew that whatever I did would be reacting to how they were acting. And that is something that Bill said a few days before, that acting was basically reacting.

My lines finally came up and I did my best to say what was on the page, clearly and loud enough for the audience to hear. Barry and Wiley had some head to head moments, Barry a young wanna be Black Panther and Wiley an older slimy business manager screwing his client.

It went well, and I was very happy I highlighted my lines. Barry had a big chunk of lines, all in a block and I wondered why that block couldn’t be broken down into paragraphs.

I mean, I write this blog, first in a block using a Word program to count the words as well as to spell Czech. Then I break it down into paragraphs as Rand suggested years ago when I started. Much easier on the eyes and easier to read. But Lawrence, playing Barry got through it just fine.

His scenes with Rudy and Sharon, playing the older adults of the teenage Ebony were intense and on point, as were the rest of the cast. Before I knew it we had read the entire play. The cast left the stage and sat in the audience as the playwright Kevin and the director of the writer’s workshop, Gordon Lee Thompson Sr and Bill sat and took questions and criticism from the audience.

Time was of the essence and after that we all headed out of the theater. Bill and I talked with Lawrence by the subway, with Lawrence hanging on the suggestions that Bill had to offer him.

I thought Lawrence was great, handling both the passion he felt for Ebony and rage he felt at the tragedy that ensued to be amazingly powerful. He’s only 19 but if he keeps at it he can go far.

Bill and I rode the train back, Bill was impressed and happy with my performance, telling me that I was good, good enough that the audience groaned when my character said his tacky lines, screwing Rudy out of his place in the art world. I didn’t hear the groans as I was too concerned with the words on the page.

I asked if I read too fast, if I misplaced a word or added a word but it didn’t really matter. I had stage fright for sure but once the play started to be read, there was no time for that. It really was an exciting experience and I could only say that I couldn’t have done it without the excellent cast seated next to me.

It was a high of sorts for me.

Bill and I came home in time to catch the second half of Keith Olbermann. Bill went to bed soon after and I joined him midway through Craig Ferguson.

The weird dream last night or rather this morning involved Julio and Stine who were upset with me since I wouldn’t join them in worshiping Mort. I annoyed them by singing songs from Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar.

It was all rather sinister with music!