succulent successfullism

5.2.04 The end is come. And gone.

Well, tis over. Done. Finished. Complete. What was once dreadful anticipation has passed by considerably painlessly, in fact quite the opposite, and is now a fond memory.

To those of you who haven't figured out to what I refer by now, tis the play Oklahoma!, just put on for the past three days. Twas indeed a blast and a half.

And my legs didn't sprout dandelions, the fact of which I am thankful.

People simply loved the performance. The music seemed to improve with each show. I guess that's the effect of less nervousness and more calmness while on stage. I just thought, "no matter what happens, just go with it and everything will be all right."

And it was alright. For the mistakes I made, I compensated. For the unsure portions of the music, I boldly played the better portions of the music and sounded secure. Not that I was putting on an act.

But the act in fact was an act of God. Let me explain.

First of all, I never asked anyone if I could play music for William Byrd's play. A friend of mine (whom I project sharp wedges towards) called me up and asked me if I wanted to play the piano for Oklahoma! the musical. I thought for a second. Then it hit me: this is an answer to prayer. You see, even towards the end of last year when high school was nearing its end, I felt the emptiness of not using my talent to its full capacity. And I had been praying on and off for almost a year, "God, please use me in this area, as you have blessed me tremendously in it." And this was the answer to that prayer. I also realized that a ton of work would be necessary. Thus began the some of the most stressful months of my life.

Second, as I didn't get the real music book until a month before the play. Crunch time for dinosaurs. Stress and carcinogens spewing vomit. So I work and work and work and practice for nobody knows how long, and nothing seems to be accomplished. I feel like a total loser. I want to call somebody up and ask them to help me, such as a piano teacher who had played the musical before, but I realize it's too late, and it's all up to me to make it all work. So I work some more, and then this buddy of mine named Newo comes over to my house and shows me how to "fake" songs and go by the chords. A lifesaving decision. And the coincidences leading up to my friendship with Newo are simply too amazing to be coincidence. But writing down all acts of God here or anywhere else would take eternity, so I'll stop there.

Third, after the "faking" method is established, I roll through the songs and am doing fairly good. This is about a week before showtime. Saturday--all day practicing music. Feeling pretty confident. Sunday rolls around--confidence crushed. I am an empty bladder. Rainy monday--crapface (Sorry Barb). But TUESDAY--glorious reincarnation! The songs start putting themselves together. I am improving exponentially by the day. 'Tseems that God is working in this situation.

Performance time--a few mistakes, but overall, phenomenal goodness. Much of the play was just a simple fake method I learned from Newo. I am fruitifully thankful.

"...and there was much rejoicing."

Oh the feeling of rapture and joy when you see the crowds cheering and clapping for you, when you stand in front of an audience whom you had captivated for the past hour, and they give it all back to you. When you know you accomplished something, that somebody that left there left with more than with what they came in. Because I refuse to end a sentence in a preposition. But the most meaningful to me, above all the crowds, above all the compliments from strangers, the real joy was seeing my friends and those whom I love, and seeing their eyes light up with joy that I was using my talent. I used my talent for God. He's the one who gave it to me in the first place, he's the one who owns it. Thank you Lord.

To all my friends: You have helped make this moment in my life a most memorable one.

In utmost sincerity,

Don Townsend