We went to the Shakes theater and saw, The Twelfth Night, Or What You Will. The story involves a girl pretending to be a boy. A woman is attracted to her, thinking she is a guy. A man is also attracted to her but is troubled because he thought she was a guy, too, and he isn’t normally attracted to those. Then the girl’s brother who looks very much like his sister comes onto the scene and actually hooks up with the woman who was first attracted to the girl that she thought was a man. Wackiness ensues.
When Shakespeare wrote this play, it was originally performed by an all male cast, which means a man portrayed a woman who pretended to be a man. The audience was in on the joke from the beginning and it was funny.
That Shakespeare was a clever guy.
The cast at the Shakes Theater was all male, too, just as it was originally intended and it was terrific, as usual. But while I enjoyed it, I felt a secret lifelong hope of performing in the theater sort of, how shall I say… DIE!
There are certain things I just can’t do. And kissing another guy in a romantic context is one of those things. I’m not judging but two dudes kissing when I’m one of the dudes ain’t gonna happen even if it’s just acting.
I didn’t find out this play was going to be performed by an all male cast until I was seated in the theater. When my wife told me, I wanted to leave. Because, you see… I like women a lot. And I like watching them in the theater. I wasn’t interested in seeing a stage full of only guys gazing into each other’s eyes and kissing.
But we stayed and I enjoyed it. The actors were good (they always are) and they sold the romance of the play. I was cheering when the main characters got together at the end of the play. And of course, there were a lot of laughs, too.
I support my friends in the LBGTQ community. I’ve seen men kiss in real life, men who love each other, and that’s nice, even if I’m not made that way, myself.
However, if it requires kissing guys, I’m just going to have to let go of the dream of being a stage performer.
My wife is looking over my shoulder as I write this. She just said to me: “I’ve got news for you, baby… You will never be able to play a woman.”
Hmph. She doesn’t have to be quite so dismissive. If I really worked at it maybe I could… oh never mind.
Some dreams are destined to die and I guess I’m okay with that.