Waiting for my star to shine - a dramatic and (mostly) true story.

Waiting for my star to shine - a dramatic and (mostly) true story. 

Way back in, I'm guessing it was 1980 or thereabouts, I played Macbett in a production of the Eugene Ionesco farce of the same name (not to be confused with a similarly named, though clearly inferior effort by the presumed playwright, Willie the Great Shakes).


When at last we went to wardrobe, I expected to emerge bedecked in flowing robes of flaming crimson or at the very least, dueling tights that flattered  ... something. 

Instead, I was handed a styrofoam bucket for a hat, adorned with some unidentifiable pieces of tin and burlap, given a sword of cardboard sword and told, "Trust us. You wear the bucket and we'll make you a star". 

When I protested, they grabbed me by the throat and at point of the blade told me, "Kid, when we get finished with you, they're gonna have to kick Al "Short Stuff" Pacino off the Rising Star Bus just to make room for you. Now, wear the damn bucket or we'll find another clown who will." 

It's a good thing I'm a real patient guy. 

Coda: So the show opens and the picture above runs in all the local broadsheets, tabloids and rags; the Globe, Herald, Phoenix, Real Paper, Patriot Ledger, Harvard Crimson, blah and blah and blah. 

Well. So all that week and the next, I'm really feeling my Cheerios. Then, one grand day, I'm struttin' along the boulevard when clear outa Oliver Sudden some fella comes racing by on his way to catch the T. He glances at me and declares, "Hey! You're Macbett!" Just as I started to reach for the Sharpie I had been carrying for just the proper autograph occasion, he picks up the pace, hopped on the train, leaned back and yelled, "YOU SUCKED!" 

Stardom. It ain't all it's cracked up to be.

PS As those who were there will attest (and I know who you are), ya just can't trust producers - or critics.