Two Too Awesome

We packed 'em in at Winging It last night. Tonight we close the show and we are still turning people away at the door. That's a good thing, both if you are a playwright hoping for an audience for your work and if you are raising money for a good cause, which in this case is our local historical society here in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.

We seem to have a following of sorts. Last night's audience was full of old friends, neighbors, work associates, and people we only see every two years because they wouldn't miss one of the Hysterical Society Player's biennial shows.

Last night was special because my sons came to watch Katz do his shtick as only Katz can do. And they came to see what I do, too, what I have been doing invisibly pretty much since they were born. Writing plays is a lot different than writing a book or writing for a newspaper or magazine. A play only exists when it is performed. Of course, you can read a play, but that is an experience that falls far short of its intention. Unless a play is performed, it dies.

I've been writing plays since Ben, my oldest, was two and I was pregnant with Josh. Despite the twice yearly royalty checks that arrived in the mail, they had a hard time seeing any pay off in the work I do. For years, plays I wrote were produced infrequently in our area, or if they were produced in town, they were not age appropriate for my children.

Now they're grown with lives and careers of their own. When they came last night, they got to see me a little differently. As the children of Katz, a man many people consider the funniest person they know, I have a sense of humor that is completely below their radar; translated that means Dad is hilarious and Mom is not. Watching my play, they got to see that I am funny in my own right. On top of that, I also was proud that they got to see my bawdy side! I can do blue humor and I can do it well, and I love to see their surprise at the very idea.

But last night was a two way street. As they watched their father and me at our creative best, I watched them as the outstanding young men they have become. They've established careers and broadened their thinking; they even spent time protesting in Madison this week over Governor Walker's attempts to end collective bargaining, an issue that directly impacts Ben. Always they are firm in their beliefs yet civil in sharing their opinions with those who might not agree. Several people who have known my kids since they were little shared their observations with me: How like their father Josh is, how poised and articulate he can be. They also tell me how easily Ben shows his kind heart, charm and earnestness, and how both boys have turned in to such fine young men.

The boys spent a good part of the night hugging and talking with the parents of their high school friends and the neighbors whose kids they played with and whose houses they visited on Halloween. Ben was so happy to see them and to have the opportunity to introduce them to Kim, the lovely young lady who has touched his heart and filled his life of late. I said to Ben how fortunate it was that he came the same night so many people he knew were there, and I could tell he was moved.

"Mom," he said, "these are the people who shaped my life!"

I know it was my work, my words, my casting that packed the house last night. But having Ben and Josh there, having them laugh at the right time, seeing their pleasure in my work, and then seeing them reconnect with the history of their lives was so rewarding it made the spotlight just that much brighter.

Lots of hard work and good fun, our share of mistakes, and a ton of love went into raising our children, but just like with a play, you make your adjustments, you tweak your directions, you enter stage right instead of stage left, and in the end it all comes together. At the final curtain call, Katz and I are left with a successful production and two awesome kids. Lucky us!