So long for now...

So this post has been several months in the making. It's time to move on--time to take a break from the blog. At least for a while.

As has been obvious for some time, this site stopped being a blog by, and for (primarily), gay dads a while back and is really now all about my life and lately a lot about my mom's life with cancer. I still think there is a place out in cyberspace for a site like gaydadsusa, a site which contains the stories of the increasing number of gay men in America who are becoming fathers. However, I'm just not the one to do it, not right now. Perhaps I will return with a jameswesley.com type site or maybe I will give in and update my Facebook page (you can reach me there--just mention gaydadsusa in your messages).  Maybe I'll do both.

In the meantime, I'm going to tend to my garden, turn 40 next month, prepare for Juli's next step with school after the summer (we've explored many options), write, and sing.

Sing. That was the main reason I returned to New York with Juli nearly three years ago. I haven't gone on a lot of auditions. And in the last 6 months? Only one. For the Phantom of the Opera sequel.

I don't think I wrote about this story because, in a way, I guess I didn't want to jinx things, but since I won't be writing on this blog for a while, what the heck? Here goes...

This is back in April. I went to the initial audition with Seth, who plays for me, and Juli, who was off from school because it was spring break. I sang my song, forgot a third of the lyrics (repeating the same ones over and over but with the correct melody), and we were on our way to Vermont. It was for the assistant casting director and four of the production people. Didn't hear anything.

Two weeks later I got a call saying they were interested in me and would be calling me soon to audition again.

A week later they call to tell me I need to go to a dance call. I say great. (though I hadn't been to a dance call in 10 years) They tell me it's on the days Juli and I are going to Texas (first Monday and Tuesday in May). I tell them Mom has cancer and I have to go to Texas, but thanks for thinking of me and call me if anything changes.

They call me. The day after Juli and I get back from Texas. The casting people call to ask if I'm available the next day to dance and then sing. He tells me not to worry if I see mainly dancers. For once, I don't worry. Seth re-arranges his schedule to play for me that afternoon.

That morning, I'm nervous but excited--also extremely calm. I feel deserving and that "my time" has arrived. I also have a deep sense that no matter what happens, the most important thing is that I didn't give up--in spite of everything that has happened in my life, I still have my dream and am still "in the game."

I arrive 10 minutes until 12. The hallways are filled with guys stretching. Almost all of the guys are not only dancers but under 30. I go to the bathroom, I come out, and they're all gone. They're already in the rehearsal space.  The room is small and packed. I find a space in the back to the side. Jerry Mitchell, the choreographer, is teaching the combination. Or so I think. He announces he's going to review what they did on Monday. I turn to the guy next to me and say, "You guys already learned this?" He says, "Yes, but it's easy." Easy for him to say. He's 25 and a dancer. Jerry starts "reviewing" it. I can't see him well so while the dance is happening, I'm winding my way through the guys to get to the other side of the room so I can see better, saying "Excuse me" at least 6 or 7 times as I keep getting hit by arms and legs as the guys continue to dance. By the time I get to the other side, the review is over and it's time to get into groups.

I go to the asst. casting director and remind him I wasn't here on Monday and that I'm game but I wanted Jerry to know it was my first time doing this. There was not enough room to dance along when the smaller groups danced. I just tried to memorize the very first moves, the last moves, and whatever else I could remember that was in the middle! However, it was in these moments, that in the past, I would've panicked. Instead, I stood there almost crying. For joy. Here I was in a sweaty New York rehearsal room, auditioning for a new show written by Andrew Lloyd Webber, with all of the production team there except for Webber, and I was in the running. I hadn't given up. I was still here. I didn't know what would happen when it would be my turn, but I knew in my heart that whatever happened, it would be perfect.

I did the "review," meaning my first time to dance it (about 90 seconds of music, I'd guess). And then it was time for it to "count." In other words, Jerry Mitchell and Jack O'Brien, the director, would be taking notes. Everyone is so supportive at these auditions, applauding after each group finished. Everyone went, except for me. I was called last. The assistant casting director said, "James Wesley?" Me: "Right here." All eyes are on me. He says to Jerry, then me: "James wasn't here on Monday. James, do you want to go?" I say, "Sure, just put a dancer in front of me and I'll give it a shot." Jerry puts a dancer in front of me and beside me who had already danced. I remember the opening, a lot of the middle (after I saw the other dancers!) and I did the big finish--on one knee with arms straight out, palms up, with a big smile on my face. The applause was the loudest for my group. I felt like I had done my best.

We go out into the hall. Several of the guys give me encouraging words. And then we are all told no one will be singing. I'm disappointed but happy with the audition. It is all over in less than 30 minutes.

The next day I get a call. It's the assistant casting director. "We're really interested in you for the show. It's been postponed and we won't audition again until August or September, but we want you to know we're really interested in you and wanted to give you a heads up."

And that's where things stand. I feel good about the decisions surrounding each step of the way--from not letting the lyric foul-up mess me up to being willing to let it all go because I had to go to Texas to not running out of that dance audition, but instead giving it my all. I'd love to get the show and will work hard this summer getting in shape for the next step in the process, but I'd also be content with this being all there is to the experience.

Moving forward. Not giving up. Believing in one's self and holding on to dreams. The reasons I moved back here with Juli after I adopted her. The lesson I wanted to teach her. Am teaching her.

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Reach out to me on Facebook. I appreciate so much all of your comments over the past year and a half and the support from everyone who has read this blog. I'll be back! Stay in touch...

Comments

[mdvk]

As you know James, I am a straight mom, but took comfort in the fact that you were going through the same parenting struggles we were. Seth led me to you and I will continue to keep an eye on you through facebook. Tend your garden and your beautiful young lady! Peace my friend!

[Arq]

I am far from being a gay dad myself, but I stumbled across this blog I don't know how long ago and I've been silently following it since. Your writing has always been engaging and I thank you for sharing bits of yourself and your family with the world and wish you great things for the future, wherever it takes you.

[Jessica]

Good luck with everything. I hope you have a great summer with your family and wish you well.