RE(nt) – Cap (Winter Wonder)

Posted: February 8, 2010 in Road to RENT

February 8, 2010

The snow immensely fell upon the expectant earth. Anticipation ran high and fears dug deep into the hearts of the hopeful. The RENT cast sat idly by as they awaited a text message, a phone call or an e-mail depicting their fate – to go or no show

The answer ignited our inboxes:

No Show – All Snowed In!

That was Friday. Saturday and Sunday rendered the same results, sending emotions higher. Anger, disappointment, betrayal, and longing filled the minds of disqualified actors and actresses:

We only have three weekends.

Thoughts of loved ones and other patrons who had yet to see the stage light up with the hard work four months produces plagued the mind and souls of many; however, in this so-called State of Emergency my heart landed upon contentment, resting peaceably in its cradling arms.

Be careful what you wish for, cause you just might get it!

Many a weeks have found me pleading for a little time off. Time to gather my thoughts, time to sit around lazily and waste the day, time to just be me.

Working over night, though conducive to my schedule, has rendered my sleep patterns zany, causing me to plead for rest even during hours in which I am awake, my body refusing to drift off. Even as I am welcoming the days, my head is constantly in a whirl, my brain pounding against my skull as I rehearse the plethora of things that need to be done, cursing the split sleep schedule that constantly leaves me in a daze:

Off work by 8 am, to sleep by ten, back awake by 12pm… eat, shower, try to collect myself, back in bed between 5 and 6pm and up for work at 10:15.

However, when there is rehearsal, the second nap is disqualified all together depending on the circumstances.

I reject the need to complain. Assimilation is my only option. The option I choose. For I am grateful for what I have and how things have thus worked out, nevertheless, the snow portrayed:

“Wish Granted!”

The non-stopped frozen rain poured on like a broken faucet in a plugged drain. I took brief stints between gathering my time to check its progress. Inch by inch it piled on creating soft blankets over objects, disguising them from view. And as I peered through my window, late into the night, catching the flakes reflecting off the street light, my soul calmed and traveled back to times of old.

A little boy, me, stares into the illuminated darkness, waiting for morning to fall. As the inches pile on, translating into feet, his heart explodes in anticipation for morning. Sleep is hard that night, with his mind full. However, he and sleep eventually find each other.

He rushes through the day, grabbing at every article of clothing that will keep his limbs warm. He rushes to find his misplaced gloves, a warning his mother has giving many a times, him searching in frustration for not heeding her warning.

He secures his last boot and rushes into the white candies from heaven, tossing to and fro and making monuments to the place from which the snow came – Snow Angels.

He tries to build a fort, a snowman, an igloo, a pee maze. His brothers and friends join him as they tackle the many ideas of their head, turning them over into games. Soon their games are interrupted.

A car spins down the country road, landing in a ditch or embankment, its tires endlessly spinning trying to free itself. The kids grow an idea.

The new game becomes who is the strongest as they gather, without prompting, and push against the heavy vehicle. All thoughts of time are lost as they heave against the automobile in hopes of coming out victorious.


Their flushed faces light up as they jump and cheer each other’s efforts. Back slaps and high fives are given, and as if nothing has changed, they return to their snow-day games keeping a watch out for anyone in the need of help.

My mind brings me back into the present as I stare into the distance. My thoughts comfort:

I got what I wanted. I long to be on stage, playing with my cast members. I know this cast is like my childhood friends, running to each other’s aide at the slight disturbance or distress; nevertheless, the stage will be there. These are the moments. Forget regret!


I wrap myself up in the loved one in the various rooms of my house. Now is the time to just sit and bask in their presence, to silently thank them for all the support they have lent me and anchoring me on this new journey in life.

I smile.

My attention is snatched by the mounds of snow still piled up, the plow burying cars deeper in its attempt to help. There is distress marked on many faces as they tackle the task of replacing mobility to their limbs and vehicles – snow so deep, it buries the knee.

And with that, my mind loops. I become that little boy again called into the lap of hospitality. I grab every inch of clothing to keep my body warm. I neglect to find the gloves, I have none. My mother greets me with a pair.

And out the door I go, doing my part to increase the happiness of this winter wonder.

A wonderland of joy!


“Kindness is a language the deaf can hear and the blind can see” ~ Mark Twain


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s