Someone said to me this week, "Why are you here? Why are you doing this? Henderson is dead."
My immediate answer was about loving my job and appreciating time with my Mama and my family, some of whom are quite elderly. And my belief (and observation) that this town is on an upswing.
Anyway, it made me ask myself why I love having the responsibility of leading a resurgence — or if nothing else, a betterment — of my hometown.
I love being across the street from my junior high school, working in a landmark building and cleaning up the streets where I once delivered the local newspaper with my best friend. I remember so many of the faces from that route.
I love getting praised and cussed out within 40 paces by two equally passionate people. And possibly deserving both.
I really like good biscuits.
And peace, but not boredom.
And I love visiting my grandmas at Elmwood and Sunset when I just want to stand and think — and remember them.
But if my grandest passion is producing a show for the stage, what is it about this job that brings me that same passion?
It's the same thing. I'm staging a play. And it's called Henderson.
The set is awesome. It just needs some paint. And better lighting.
And the cast is the best part. Did I mention that it's diverse? It's a box office dream.
It's about race, and it's not — do you know what I mean?
Anyway, all these people are trying to make a living and support their families, and manage their vices, and the love stories are worth the price of admission.
One of the landlords is going up on the rent so there's a big musical number with a lot of stomping. The costumes are sparkly. The faces are beautiful. Did I mention it's diverse?
It has an interesting political sub-plot, but all the characters are likeable, so you can see both sides, and you empathize and maybe even recognize a little of yourself in them.
And there's a villain. There's always a villain. There must be a villain.
The problem with this production is the budget. I can make it entertaining on this budget, yes, but I can make it fabulous with a little more money. Maybe we need more sponsors.
I try to do the same thing in my job as I do directing a show. I observe and give advice to help people make good decisions without getting in their way too much. And when someone is missing their mark or messing up the big picture, I discuss it politely, or preferably privately ... ever conscious of the ever-present ego.
Now, all I need you to do is buy a ticket. If you can afford it, a season ticket. Here's how the theater business works: You buy a season ticket and they can afford to bring better shows — the ones you would drive to a big city to see. It doesn't happen the other way around, though. You first have to make the investment and buy the ticket.
And have dinner at one of our restaurants before the show. They will all be open prior to McGregor Hall shows. Walk from the restaurant to the theater. The more people see people walking on Garnett Street, the more people will realize it's safe to walk on Garnett Street.
We will keep it clean and attractive and safe. It's getting better every day. Come be a part of the upswing. Did I mention it's diverse?
This article first appeared in The Henderson Dispatch.