I have a memory of being nine or ten years old and watching a television special about Broadway musicals that ended with “One,” the finale from A Chorus Line. I realize that most people probably find Marvin Hamlisch and Michael Bennett’s number and its gold tuxedos, grapevines, and six-syllable rhymes impossibly cheesy but I have never been able to watch it without a swell of watery eyes. When I saw this special, I was a Broadway performer. I was one of a very few hundred people who knew the warmth of those lights from the stage and there was something about that TV special that drove that peculiarity and fortune home for me. 

Even when I have belonging in this community, even though I have belonging in this community, I am awed by its riches and spells every time I step foot in a theater through a stage door, every time I hear the buzz of the caged dressing room lights, everytime I feel the temperature change from off stage to on stage. 

My merde continued when I had a baby and it became much more complicated to participate in a world that woke up at children’s bedtimes and slept through feedings and school drop-offs. I met Joe McGinty and after we wrote and performed a musical together, I sussed out his consistent work managing his legacy as the founder, director, and host of the New York City institution that is The Loser’s Lounge. I pitched myself to him to perform “Otto Titsling” in their tribute to Bette Midler and after he agreed to fire me out of the cannon that is a Loser’s performance, I tried to make myself useful enough to insinuate myself into the troupe’s every subsequent show. 

The Loser’s Lounge performs at Joe’s Pub, the nightlife venue named after The Public Theater’s founder, Joseph Papp. The Public Theater is one of the most esteemed theaters in the world, having birthed Hair and Hamilton and a few little shows in between like A Chorus Line. The Public Theater is the parent of Shakespeare in the Park. 

As if carrying a garment bag of crinolines and kazoos up the grand stairs of this palace on Lafayette, just below Astor Place, and being warmly welcomed as someone who belongs there in a way that few do, isn’t enough, I sometimes get souvenirs. The photographer, John Huntington, who divides his lens time between taking pictures of tornadoes and burlesque acrobats, attends our (glee at using the term ‘our’) Saturday late show performances and captures, I think, our outings exactly as they feel, and, more accurately, exactly as we wanted them to look. John shares his talent with us generously. 

I am performing next Thursday and Saturday with The Loser’s Lounge at Joe’s Pub at The Public Theater in shows celebrating The Monkees where I will get to channel Davy Jones dancing in a ruffled tuxedo. You should come. I promise to show you the pictures later though if you miss it!

In June of this year, Joe totally let me dress up as part circus ringleader and part Ann Reinking in a Fosse inspired number I danced to a Neil Diamond song that’s a soft-shoe called “Say, Maybe.” Here are the pictures capturing how it felt and how I had really hoped it would look. Also included are pics of the finale in which we sang “Sweet Caroline,” so I had to make a costume change that is currently topical regarding another love of mine, baseball. 

An end note: I have an envelope in a fireproof combination safe with Joe McGinty’s name on it. Inside are the directions for charting my funeral which I hope will take place in the church of my only religion, Theater. I also hope that my friend-chorines who outlive me will don their gold and perform “One” with full Michael Bennet choreography (they all know it; they’ve all done it) to close out this run. And hopefully John will take pictures.