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Kelley Avenue Thespians
On my last visit to the barbershop I ran into my friend Jim Fellingham.
We started reminiscing about “The Kelley Avenue Thespian Society,” and that’s a chapter worth sharing.
Some friends, who naturally lived on North Kelley, had a hobby that was even more fun than printing; to be exact, they had two hobbies. They loved to party and to act. They figured out a great way to do both.
Each year, always on Memorial Day weekend, they and their friends presented an old-fashioned melodrama on the elevated portion of their backyard patio. Each of the cast or company was allowed exactly seven invitations to give out – only to certified and genuine party people.
The chosen few were required to bring enough food, wine or booze to feed or embalm a regiment. The serious drinking started at four-thirty around the pool, and was joined in by actors, stage-hands, lighting engineers and audience. Fortunately everyone knew every part, so actor fall-out was not critical. When the sun went down drama began.
The repertoire obviously included “The Drunkard,” “Dracula,” “Seven Keys to Baldpate” and others just as thrilling. Hissing, heckling and teasing were encouraged.
On more than one occasion well-lubricated audience members literally “got into the act.” This was a case of audience participation “run wild.”
Cast members included the most serious architects, lawyers, doctors, the president of the largest bank and a merchant or two. Friendships were made that survive for twenty-five years, and, remarkably, most but not all, the marriages survived too.
My principal job was the building and erection of the scenery which tended to be quite lavish. Secret doors and movable walls brought gales of laughter.
Old Shakespeare was right. “All the world’s a stage and some are only stagehands.”
We Have Taken A Lesson
Attendance at the recent NAPA Convention held in Wichita afforded ample opportunity for your publisher to soak up some well-intended helpful criticism. Many do not like the shortness of my stories – here I differ from the pack. When I studied writing brevity was a goal to be achieved. I will not alter this style. It’s less type too.
In this issue I have tried to improve letter spacing, and you may notice: not a single hyphenated line.
Handset in Centaur by Rob’t Orbach, in Oklahoma City, Ok. 73116