There was certainly a time when I dreamed about having a play on Broadway and winning a Tony. I have been watching the Tony’s since I was probably twelve years old. I have a distinct memory of watching when “Into the Woods” won and I hooted and hollered. My dad came down stairs and yelled at me for making too much noise.
And now I am certain that a play on Broadway is not in the cards. And that’s fine. My writing focus has gone down a different path and anyway, the straight play on Broadway seems to be going the way of the dodo.
But when we went to Yale Rep this past weekend I was seriously thrilled when I saw a real live Tony. Not just one, a whole row of them. I didn’t expect to see them, I didn’t know what they had. But when I walked up to the display case my stomach did a flip flop. I was in awe.
What does that mean? I don’t know. Does it mean that dreams never die? That when a door close that maybe it doesn’t really really close? I’m pretty sure that door is closed but who knows? Who knows.