I loved to play pretend as a child. I would make up stories and play all the parts myself because, until I was in school, I spent a lot of time playing alone. I would talk to my stuffed animals and to my dolls; I would dress up in my mother’s old clothes and shoes; and I even had an imaginary friend. [see blog post December 2, 2015]
Making up stories led to writing down stories, which eventually led to writing novels and this blog post. But in those really early days, my stage was located in the basement of our home where I felt perfectly free to act out whatever story came into my head.
Most of my stories centered around my being the lead or the person in charge who ordered everyone else around telling them what to do. Since everyone else was an inanimate object, I was obeyed without complaint. I had a pretty rude awakening once I had to negotiate with other kids for that lead position as most of them had already honed their skills with older and younger siblings. I didn’t stand a chance.
Undeterred for the most part, however, one summer several of my neighbor girlfriends were bored enough to think my idea for putting on a play was a good one. Because none of them knew anything about directing a play, much less had been in one (I had recently been in our elementary school’s production of Jack and the Beanstalk, playing the giant’s wife), they were eager to follow my lead in putting on a new version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
Wanting to make the story a bit more interesting, I wrote the character of Goldilocks as a thief. Rather than mysteriously wandering into the house of the three bears, my Goldilocks was to nefariously plan out her home invasion for the purpose of stealing some valuables from them. I was, of course, Goldilocks. Her entrances were, on three separate occasions, preceded by my also playing a familiar villainous rift on the piano. She successfully stole something first from Papa Bear, then from Mama Bear, but when she tried to steal something from Baby Bear, she was caught. In the end, justice prevailed, and the three bears captured their intruder and sent her off to jail.
We practiced our play for several days before then advertising the production to take place in my basement on a Sunday afternoon. We set up chairs for our parents and siblings. We did not charge a fee. Our success was evident when our audience laughed in all the right places and clapped at the end. One father said he had never seen a play where several of the characters all talked at the same time–a tongue in cheek compliment to be sure.
Though that was the only play I did with my neighbors in my basement, there were many productions to participate in throughout my school days. I have many fond memories of Hello, Dolly and The Sound of Music in particular.
After I had my own children, I enthusiastically supported my daughter when she, too, wanted to put on plays. Hers were far more organized and frequent. There was a version of Cinderella during which I pulled a shower curtain back and forth between scenes in the basement of our house, there was a version of Snow White, and even a scripted one-act written by O. Henry, as well as many more. I loved watching her little group of friends practice and put on their productions.
Now that I have a granddaughter, who definitely has quite an imagination, and likes to be the lead as well, I am hoping the tradition will continue into a third generation. Afterall, all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.*
Copyright DJ Anderson, 2023
* William Shakespeare’s As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7
