you know, of a play?

which logically and dramatically follows its 2 predecessors:

first,

act one, which brilliantly sets up what’s at stake for the protagonist.

followed by

act two,

in which the play develops with tension & suspense,

as it builds in “rising” action,

when finally, you have, “act 3”,

the climax and resolution of the play.

if it’s a good/happy ending, the play is called a comedy.

if it’s a not so good, bummer of an ending, the play is called a tragedy.

in either case, act 3,

the “falling” action and… the end of the play.

now being a college theater professor for the last 26 years, i naturally see my life as a… play.

act one: being born upside down and backwards, as only a clown should be, in sub-oiban, jewish new yawk, battling instinctively for 22 years against parental expectation and control.

act 2: taking the road less travelled after not attending college graduation, becoming a dancer-clown-artiste and continuing the battle for the next 42 years against poverty, privilege, and ambition; taking an unexpected turn towards a very late marriage to an indonesian princess while surviving cancer, self-doubt, and insecurity along the way… down the long & twisting road of life.

 

but now what?

act 3: approaching 65 years young, what road do i choose to make my way through my forest filled with memory, success, failure, joy, regret, opportunities taken, others left behind?

should i just stay on the same path as long as possible?

limp my way to the finish line, going through the same routines and habits that act 2 has so deeply ingrained into the crevices of my life?

should i just keep teaching at my comfortable, creative university job, changing the world 1 student at a time, until i slowly peter out in the so-called, professorial saddle?

do i just stay in my rented, paradisiacal home in the old hollywood hills until somebody else (the owner) decides my lease is up? do i stay married? childless? the last of the trules?

or…. do i write a new… act 3? in magical bali? where i met my wife by accident and incident?

act 3… with a new, more challenging ending?

maybe buy and develop some property to bring my friends from around the world to?

maybe a 2nd home in a new paradise, on my indonesian wife’s side of the planet?

do i become a father at 70 years young, like chaplin, and other artist-clowns,

throwing in the towel of daily routine to become a stay-at-home, john lennon-esque dad?

do i?

do i…?

knowing only too well, that all plays, no matter how well they are written…

that all lives, all third acts…

finally do end… the same unavoidably,

cruel and…

beautiful way…..

 

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