I've been so blessed to be an instructor for the Amarillo Little Theatre Academy for the past sixteen years. I love teaching the fine art of acting. I love the play and the whimsy of it all. For years, I've also called myself a playwright, having written a smattering of scripts over the years, a few even having been produced. But this last script was one I adapted from a 175 year-old book. A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, has been done, and done, and re-done, but I still asked Jason, the Academy Director, if I could write the adaptation for the Academy's production this winter. When he said yes, I went and bought a copy of the book, read it about ten times and then went through it, turning all the prose into stage directions and the spoken bits into dialogue. I added some things, incorporated some aspects that Jason specifically asked for, added some characters, scenes and dialogue definitely not in the book, and revised. And revised, and revised. ( Collapse )
My sweetheart, my smart, kind, sanguine, handsome firstborn son, Ethan Conrad, graduated from high school in May, and *gasp* DID NOT GO TO COLLEGE.
I had very mixed feelings about this, at the time. I loved college. I loved school! I found out who I was during those four years and made a lot of decisions by myself, both good and bad, and grew up a lot, too. And I wanted that same thing for my boy.
But that was not what he wanted.
Ethan decided (probably several years ago) that he didn't love school. He was good at it, he had all the cords and honors at graduation, but like his Dad, the whole academia thing didn't feed his soul the way it did mine. He made the decision to go to work for our family business, AAA Electric, here in Amarillo. He will enroll in the four year apprenticeship school and become a Journeyman Electrician, and will be making a really great living when he graduates. While he's doing that, he will work forty hours a week, most of those out of town, much to his mother's dismay.( Collapse )
Yeah. Let that sink in a moment. It was about nine months ago, so the trauma has died down a bit and I can recall it with a benign sense of well being. Sort of. And most of my hair has grown back.
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