Flip Side

How do you fill up free evenings? Why not try something entirely different!

FLIP SIDE
By
Patricia Nolan-Hall


“Blue Rondo a la Turk”. That was it. That was the Brubeck tune on the flip side of “Take Five”. Ellen had been trying to remember the title since morning. It was her challenge du jour. She could have phoned the music-of-your-life radio station but shuddered at the thought of speaking with some young receptionist who didn’t know about flip sides.
The Curling Club was back in action tonight and Dennis and the boys would be eating out with the gang. “It won’t be the same without you, Mom,” Graham, her baby, had declared. But that was just the trouble; it would be the same.
Ellen defiantly splashed Ranch dressing on her mixed greens without benefit of measuring. Life and salad dressing should not be experienced a tablespoon at a time she decided. She lazily flipped to the “Happenings” section in the community newspaper with thoughts of getting a head start on some of the better garage sales. The notice spoke to her in large, friendly letters:
“St. Genesius Players Information Night
Celebrate our 33rd year of excellence in Community Theatre
Join us at Maple Heights Library at 8 PM tonight to learn how you can get involved.”
It’s 7:30 now. Well, t’were done, t’were best done quickly thought Ellen. No harm in going to the library. I can check out the discard bin and look the group over at the same time. No harm in that.
A winding staircase led down to the newly renovated meeting rooms. A large sign with an arrow read ST. GENESIUS PLAYERS. Someone had drawn smiley faces on the sign. Underneath someone else had printed in a fine calligraphic hand “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.” Ellen exhaled a deep breath and started down the stairs. Three steps down was the cue for the Players.
“Somebody’s coming” was announced in a loud stage whisper.
“Nice shoes” giggled a soprano. “I wonder where she got them.”
“Nice legs” from a rumbly baritone. “I wonder where she got them.”
“She’s still coming down the stairs” chimed in a fourth voice.
“Good sign” responded the baritone. “Obviously doesn’t scare easily.”
“Welcome.” This from a core of nine people seated at an oblong table. A nervous group of mostly young people were seated on library benches. Most had 8 x 10 glossies and resumes. This is the right place but is it my please Ellen wondered.
“I’m Lil MacDonald,” said a bouncy blonde. “President of St. Genesius Players.”
Smiley faces, thought Ellen.
“Only until the next coup” remarked a heavy-set fellow with a twinkle in his brown eyes.
“That’s Harve. Ignore him,” said Lil. “Would you like a coffee?”
That would be the abandon-hope-guy, thought Ellen. “Yes” she said, “black, please.”
Posters and pictures from the group’s productions were on display. Ellen remembered seeing some of the shows years ago and being impressed. Lil distributed handouts outlining the Players upcoming season. Harve took center court with tales of past glories and missteps told with such humour that Ellen joined in the laughter as if she had been around the group for years.
The enthusiasm of the St. Genesius Players was contagious. A petite dynamo named Janice pointed out that actors had to audition but no such indignity was pressed upon anyone desiring to become part of the best backstage crew this side of 42nd Street. Anyone who had ever looked at a sewing machine had a friend for life in a quiet fellow named Abe. T.C. Williams, the director of the season’s first show, “The Importance of Being Earnest” was an intense young man with long, curly hair. He encouraged everyone to reacquaint themselves with Wilde’s classic comedy and return next week prepared to delight him with heretofore untapped talent.
The next week was the quickest and slowest Ellen had experienced since waiting for Frank to be born. It had been fun to share scrapbooks and programs from her High School Drama Club days with the boys. Graham had seemed happy to act as audience to Ellen’s version of a Joyce Grenfell monologue. He didn’t look too bored while Ellen explained that Ms. Grenfell was Granddad’s favourite British writer and character actress.
“Just don’t get your hopes too high,” Dennis advised the night of the audition. “I think these things are rigged.”
A simple “good luck” would have sufficed thought Ellen, but I guess he’s just looking out for me. I wish he’d kept his mouth shut though.
The church basement where the St. Genesius Players rehearsed was the site of the auditions. Stage Manager Janice had made the place as comfortable as possible with the abandoned couches and folding chairs available to her. The actors sipped out of paper cups and went through their individual pre-audition routines. One apparent veteran of the group was talking and laughing loudly with Janice. Ellen decided the noisy one was either very confident or very nervous.
Ellen smiled in recognition at a few of the people who had attended last weeks meeting and sought a quiet corner to look over her lines. A young woman named Sally, dressed in early bohemian, didn’t take the hint.
“Is this your first audition?” Sally asked, distractedly tearing at the sheet of paper she clutched. “This is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. I didn’t think I’d feel so scared. Are you scared?”
“I haven’t done anything like this in years so I am a little anxious. I’m sure you’ll do fine. We both will. There’s nothing to worry about, really,” said Ellen. “After all, what’s the worse that can happen?”
Janice’s voice interrupted the forced positive thoughts. “Next up, Ellen Minter. Break a leg.”
Lil, Harve and T.C. certainly looked as non-threatening as they had the week before but the room was uncomfortably warm and everyone seemed to be swaying.
“What are you going to do for us this evening?” Harve smiled.
Ellen was surprised to find her voice working as she launched into “Committee”, a gentle swipe at the political machinations of an arts group Board of Directors. She hoped it would find an accepting audience with this Board. The first laugh almost made her stop to see what was so funny. Each chuckle and smile added to her confidence, which doubled when she finished to a smattering of applause and a thumbs up from Lil.
“That was very good, Ellen. Could you do it again using a British accent?” asked T.C.
“That was my British accent!” blurted Ellen.
T.C. mugged eye-popping surprise while Harve started shaking silently. T.C. began “Ellen, uh … after all…that is…uh…
“Well,” supplied Ellen, “that’s showbiz.”
In another second they were laughing like old friends.
“I know Jan would love to have you on her team,” offered Lil. “I think we all would.”
“You can always try out for “Plaza Suite” in the spring” said Harve. After all, the theatre is like life, there’s nothing as exciting as the next show.”
The next show, thought Ellen, as she sought Janice’s sign-up sheet. What an exciting flip side.