Tonight was incredible. I finally shopped the first scene of my solo show for my acting class.  You have no idea how nervous I was. This is at the Two Roads Theater after I decided the Fringe was impractical this year.

Doing this 7-minute scene in front of a group of fellow students had me shaking and unable to remember my lines. I winged it. Half of it was ad-libbed. An old man tiring of life, full of pain and drugs, finding his way through the fog to some clarity. I’m good at ad-libbing that sort of thing. I’ve been there and done that.

It wasn’t the nudity. That’s just matter-of-fact for me. But I was shaking. I’ve never shaken like that before.

I was afraid my little show would fall flat. I was afraid they’d see it and call it self-indulgent and mediocre, an old man’s folly.  Boring! It is my baby and I feared they wouldn’t like it. But, because I am aging and my tomorrows really are shortening, I wanted to do it regardless. To sail beyond the sunset, so to speak.

My fellow students congratulated me on it. I am deep enough into Asperger’s that I don’t know how to handle compliments. The teacher says he wants me to hone the scene to produce a stronger arc so it can stand alone. Be more drunken. Add some humor, deeper despair, and a stronger recovery. Add in the delicious sound of pills rattling in their bottles (It is almost musical!) and a full-length mirror for a prop. He wants to include it in a future showcase of 7-minute sketches. I even had someone volunteer to direct and help write. It will be a tremendous help!

Teach says it is a bold effort with great potential and nobody else is doing anything like it.

I’m going to make the leap of faith here and do it. Then I’m going to add in additional scenes to build an hour show out of it. At this point, I have little to lose and much satisfaction to gain.