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      I know the first line, the rest is an improvisation . . .
      - Kevin Klein, on playing Hamlet

Showcase Performance Dates: 12.12, 12.14, & 12.15.05, 7PM, Weist-Barron, 35 West 45th Street, New York City.

   Question. Did all the analytical preparation help? These imagination exercises were created on pen and paper, and they certainty helped me "understand" Howard. But how to bring that to the stage . . . can it be brought to the stage, to the set . . . ?

    I hope time and experience will help this transference -- I'm not sure if there is much transference, unless I force it, sort of, or at least parts of it. I'm ambivalent about it -- though I did enjoy the exercises immensely, and I felt, in the end, that I understood Howard, my Howard, very well.
    I suspect it's an intermediate step, somewhere between personal, intuitive, impulsive response (where truth is always found) and the constraints of the text, the special problems of specific moments. I used it as a bridge, a tool to crack open the tough parts of the scene.

    Finally, what is baseball? Really, it's just fundamentals: it's hitting the ball, catching the ball, and throwing the ball. Practice like hell, learn those fundamentals well enough and you just might find yourself in the majors. It's just fundamentals.

    And that is what acting is. Tonight: moment-by-moment. The moment is all I have. Talk to her, really talk to her . . . really love her. Really watch and listen -- is she hearing me? Whatever effect I'm having, take it in, let it hit me . . . and don't think -- trust.

Beat 5. Here it seems it's all about triggers (NOTE 1: these triggers, what Howard hears or thinks, were found in rehearsal -- I didn't " decide" that this is what H thinks/hears.

NOTE 2: in [] are the typical response I had -- most of them I didn't try to have, but they did start to become a habitual response. If the performance went on for more than I week, the triggers would have stayed the same, but the responses would have changed.

NOTE 3: the triggers, H's thoughts are my best recollections of the moments, but they are poor fits to what I was actually feeling/experiencing. I did find a deep emotional logic, a combination of an awareness of being pushed by R, a need to find a way out, and a growing resentment. This needed to happen on it's own, at it's own pace. What I'm writing here didn't drive or control the scene -- what was happening was much faster than thought and language. These thoughts and words are my best recollection of what happened, but what they were in those moments . . . something else created them . . . not me, i.e., not a "me" thinking/planing how it was going to be.

What I want is constant from Beat 4 to end of the scene: I'm not getting married like this, this pressure, this urgency . . . When Rosemary talks, what follows is what Howard hears . . .

Howard.
    Well, can't we talk about this Saturday? I'm dead tired and I've got a busy week ahead, and . . . [Note: I had create a complete thought, though I never had a chance to express it:I've got to get up early to drive back to the courthouse at 10 when it opens...]   

Rosemary.
  You gotta marry me, Howard
   [right now!? We need to get married right now!?]

Howard.
   Well -- honey, I can't marry you now. [Here I found a choice of looking at my watch, i.e., making a small joke, trying to get her to lighten up]

Rosemary.
   You can be over here in the morning.
   [She's not hearing me, not taking the hint]

Howard.
   Sometimes you're unreasonable. [this usually came out as light exasperation]

Rosemary.
  You gotta marry me, Howard
   [She's pushing me. I have to get out of this. She has to teach tomorrow -- what is she thinking?]

Howard.
  What'll you do about your job?

Rosemary.
  Alvah Jackson can take my place till they get someone new from the agency.
  [Great! She's not gonna back down . . . I don't want to do this, this is a huge pain in the ass, this, all this, is so unreasonable, it's not fair, doesn't she see this . . . ? ]

Howard.
  I'll have to pay Fred Jenkins to take care of the store for a few days.
  [NOTE: this "thought"/feeling, fairly complex in the moment, actually came before the line: One more unreasonble thing I need to do, this can't be happening . . . ]

Rosemary.
  Then get him.
  [is there anything else that I can do, say . . .? . . . no . . .]

Beat 6. It's all triggers . . . getting what I want . . . and love and compassion . . .

Howard.
   No.

Rosemary.
  Howard!

Howard.
  I'm not gonna mary anyone that says, "You gotta marry me, Howard." I'm not gonna. (Rosemary starts to cry). If a woman wants me to marry her -- she can at least say "please." [My typical response was to simply use these words to tell her how I felt, about how I felt about her pushing me. NOTE: and now here's a clear case where preparation really helped, i.e., the 11 . 28 . 05 notes, when I asked H about where things stood between him and R after he proposed to her, i.e., he said: "I just feel that when the time is right, it'll come up on it's own, (getting angry) when the time's right, and a man just knows when the time is right You can't push a man into doing something before it's time!" I didn't decide that that's how Howard felt -- that's what he told me (and it completely revealed these two beats to me). Now -- that's not literally true that H "talked" to me, but Howard and I feel or respond the same way sometimes, (acting -- it's almost like character uses parts of me to do what they need to do, and I'm always very happy to lend those parts . . . I NEED to lend those parts). After R started crying, my compassion for her started coming back].

Rosemary.
  Please marry me Howard.
  [I've got to have time to figure out how to handle this...]

Howard.
  Well -- you got to give me time to think it over.

Rosemary.
  Oh God! Please marry me, Howard. Please (she sinks to her knees) Please . . . Please.
  [I've got to get her up and into bed ...]

Howard.
  Rosemary . . .. I . . . . I gotta have some time to think it over. You go to bed now and get some rest. I'll drive over in the morning and maybe we can talk it over before you go to school, I . . .

Rosemary.
  You're not just trying to get out of it, Howard?
  [Yes! . . . but I'm not just going to abandon her...]

Howard.
  I'll be over in the morning, honey.

Rosemary.
  Honest?
  [Yes -- about talking]

Howard.
  Yah. I gotta go to the courthouse anyway. We'll talk it over then.

Rosemary.
  Oh God, please marry me Howard. Please.
  [Ok, just get away now but let her now you're coming back]

Howard.
   Go to bed, honey. I'll see you in the morning.

Rosemary.
  Please Howard!

Howard.
  I'll see you in the morning, Good night Rosemary.

Rosemary.
  Please.

Howard.
  Good night, Rosemary. (Howard exits)

Rosemary.
   Please.

Ok, this is a tough part of the scene for me:

Question: So you asked Rosemary to marry you. Now you regret it, when you think about it, which isn't often . . . don't you want to get married?

        I don't know. I'm so old now. It seems like such a youthful -- foolish? -- thing to do. And I'm not unhappy, I'm really not. Sure, it's lonely, but you get used to that . . . even enjoy it sometimes. I have my store, my business, I'm settled, comfortable. Rosemary is . . . well, she's my friend. We're friends, really . . . we're not doing all that silly stuff that all the young people do, all the running around as if it's all the end, or the beginning, of the world.

Question: Ok, but you asked Rosemary. Now you haven't talked about it since, but . . . do you think she's just going to forget about it? You really can't see yourself married? Have you ever thought about it? What's been your thinking about all this since you asked her. Did you change your mind?

       I guess I just never really have thought about it, about what R really thought. I always assume she's as happy with things as I am. Me? Married? Look, I shouldn't have proposed. I'm happy and comfortable and I don't want to change, I don't feel like changing. Why should I change? I can't imagine it. I'm not sure how or what it means to be a husband, or how to do that. It's scary.

Question: What if Rosemary asks you about it. Have you thought about what you'd say, if you were really honest?

      I guess I would say what I've just said: It's too late now. I don't feel a need for it. I'm happy with the way things are . . . or at least I'm not unhappy, and that's comfortable . . . more comfortable then change.

<NOTE: Have I found enough motivation for Howard? Is it really just this? I do think it is this AND that that fact that Rosemary is pushing for an answer right now. From Rosemary's perspective, it looks like H doesn't love her, at least not enough, and I don't think Howard knows, at this moment.
    I think a lot of "common" wisdom would tell one to build up some huge trauma for H, creating serious reasons why he doesn't want to get married, but even if I did that, how would it really help me? If the above are H's reasons, I can definitely empathize/identify with those. And in this scene (which isn't about H's reasons) it's enough for R and the audience to know that he obviously does not want to move ahead, and this is VERY BAD given that Rosemary so painfully, desperately needs to be married NOW! I guess I'm making choices within or constrained by what makes the scene work and Rosemary's role in it. The scene is not a one-man show about a guy who's so traumatized that he can't get married, so I just haven't tried to create that . . . I'm hoping that was the right decision>.

Beat 4. This seems to be a "technical" beat for me -- there are certain things I want to happen, and I'll need to rehearse/practice them . . . at least we'll see how that works out. At the end of beat #3, I really need to have my attention fully on getting home -- that's what I'm doing, that I've been trying to do . . . and then Rosemary brings that action to a screeching halt.

Technical note 2: Rosemary is doing a lot of talking here -- I need to be listening, hearing what she's saying, and reacting to that -- with the goal of trying to comfort her and change her mind about how she's looking at things, to feel about things the way I do. So, even though R is doing all the talking, I'll be constructing counter-augments inside while R is talking. Both characters, I think, are being very honest about their feelings here . . .

Technical note 3: Howards gets cut off a few times -- know what he would say if she hadn't cut him off . . .

What I'm doing in this beat, however, is three things.

• I don't want to get married for reasons X, Y, and Z, and so I'm simply trying to tell Rosemary that: I'm telling her I changed my mind about wanting to get married, and
• I care for her so I'm 2) trying to comfort her and change her mind about how she's looking at things, to feel about things the way I do, i.e., it's not so bad. This is important because if I can succeed, then she will feel better, we won't be at odds, and I get what I want: I'm happy and comfortable
• the beat ends with more pressure from Rosemary, so again, I'm tying to get away

<NOTE: What I want -- leads to --> action -- leads to --> reaction, what really happens in the scene. What if I got a different reaction, i.e., what if I got what I wanted here in this beat? There's one consistent thing missing in the scene, and that's clear hopes & expectations. Improvising the scene where I get exactly what I want might be a good way to better imagine what I want...>

Howard.
  We'll talk it over Saturday.

Rosemary.
   We'll talk it over now.
   [Damn! Now what? I'm so tired, I've got to get out of here...]

Howard.
   Well -- honey -- I
   [Technical note: I really need to have my attention fully on getting home, and then R says . . . The trick (for me) is that the more attention I can put here, on getting home, then the more I'm taken by surprise, and that starts this whole beat off (for me) on the perfect foot]
   [12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: NOT SPECIFIC ENOUGH! Specifics are everything! (So I'm thinking too much, and worse, it's all general: two basic annoying problems). Before the show, I set my watch to 12:30am. When I got to this part of the scene, I knew exactly what time I had to get up, 8am, to get to the courthouse, and I'm busy calculating how much sleep I'm going to get if I leave right now, and I'm going to tell her/show her how little time I have and -- bam! She hit's me with "you said you were gonna marry me..."]

Rosemary.
   You said you were gonna marry me, Howard. You said when I got back from my vacation, you'd be waitin' with the preacher.
    [this triggers a lie, trying to get out of it]

Howard.
  Honey, I've had an awful busy summer and . . . [I just didn't have time with everything, and ...]

Rosemary.
  Where's the preacher Howard? Where is he?
  [decide to simply tell her the truth. See the above preparation, the question: What if Rosemary asks you about it. Have you thought about what you'd say, if you were really honest?]
  [12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: This transistion always felt awkward. It's easy to imagine him fumbling or building up courage to tell the truth, but ... just try to do 'that'. Instead, I got more specific, in a way, i.e., it really helped to continue, inside, to try to come up with another lie or excuse, try to think of something else . . . and then . . . just give up and decide to tell her the truth. Quite naturally, my shoulders and chest spontaneously relaxed -- trying to lie, trying to get out of it spontaneously got me a bit tense. Just doing these two things -- my body reacted as if I was really doing this, at least most of the time].

Howard.
  Rosemary, I'm 42 years old. A person forms certain ways of living, and then one day, it's too late to change.

<Technical note: Rosemary is going to be doing a lot of the talking . . . sketch in what each section might trigger while R is talking. If Howard reacts, and he does while she's talking, these are likely places]

Rosemary.
  Come back here Howard. I'm no spring chicken either. Maybe I'm a little older than you think I am.
  [H is thinking: did she lie? how old is she?]
  I've formed my ways too, but they can be changed. The gotta be changed.
  [H is thinking/feeling: I don't want to/feel like changing]
  It's no good livin' like this,in rented rooms, meeting a bunch of old maids for supper every night, then coming back home alone.
  [well, it's how you look at it. it's no bed of roses either, but what life is? And ... it's not so bad, really . . .]

Howard.
  I know how it is Rosemary. My life's no bed of roses either.
  [A line reading to myself: end this sentence on an up inflection rather than a down, if I can do it naturally. Given the goal of trying to comfort her while trying to change her mind about how she's looking at things, I'm hearing an implied "but" at the end. That should come out naturally if I'm really trying to do this -- we'll see]

Rosmary.
  Then why don't you do something about it?

Howard.
  I figure -- there's some bad things about every life.
  [another implied but at the end here, e.g., but it's not so bad really . . .]

Rosemary.
   There too much bad about mine.
   [she's really suffering]
   Each year, I keep telling myself, is the last. Something'll happen. Then nothing ever does . . . except I get a little crazier all the time.
   [Now H wants to say something, but he gets cut off after "well"]

Howard.
   Well ...[. . . honey, it's just how you look it at . . . we have very nice lives, each other . . .]

Rosemary.
   A well's a hole in the ground Howard. Be careful you don't fall in.
   [at this point, just reacting emotionally to whatever she's giving me, e.g., angry, sadness . . . I'm just trying to help...]

 Howard.
    I wasn't trying to be funny.

Rosemary.
   And all this time you just been leading me on.

 Howard.
    Rosemary, that's not so. I've not been trying to lead you on.

Rosemary.
   I'd like to know what else you call it.

 Howard.
    Well, can't we talk about this Saturday? I'm dead tired and I've got a busy week ahead, and . . . [I've got to get up early to drive back to the courthouse at 10 when it opens...]   

Question: You asked Rosemary to marry you!? When was this? What happened?

        Well, yeah, I guess I did. It was 4th of July. Great night. Thought Rosemary going to take to drinking more'n me! We were having a great time, and, you know, I was trying to get close to her . . . but you know Rosemary. She would have none of that, and she's so tough, that one. I was joking around, and I said something like you need a good man to make a woman out of you.

She laughed, and started looking around: Really? Where? Where's a good man?
And I said: if you would put on your glasses, o' vanity, then maybe you could see what's right in front of you.
She said: A woman needs a man like she needs a mangy old stray dog.
I said: Oh, you're a woman who don't need marriage?
She said: That's right. I've gone this long without it, and it ain 't done me no harm Howard Bevens.

And then I kissed her. I'm not sure why -- hell, I felt like it. It was our first kiss. I think Rosemary was a little shocked.

And then I said: maybe I should be waiting w/the preacher when you come back from Kansas city in August. How would like that, Mrs. Rosemary Bevens.

And she said: Howard, you'll never go through with it, you're too set in your ways . . .
And I said: when you get back, I'll be waitin' with the preacher . . .
She said. We'll just see what you'll do at the end of summer . . . and no matter what you do, you ain 't getting nothin tonight!

Question: So what's happened since?

Well . . . nothing really. I was drunk. Rosemary was pretty tipsy herself. We never really talked about it. Oh, a few days after she kidded me: I'd better see that preacher when I come back Howard Bevens. And I would say Preacher? And she would say, yes, Howard, after I get back, is he going to be there? And I said well honey, preachers and the end of summer, they're in short supply, but I do my best . . . and then I got quiet . . . and then after a few moments Rosemary started talking about whatever, school, Ms. Owens. I felt bad, but come on -- I was drunk that day, and Rosemary was too.

Question: So where do things stand now?

Oh, well . . . nothing's standing, really. We never really talked about it since. I feel guilty, sometimes, but . . . I'll make it up to her . . . sometime . . . I don't know what she thinks really . . . or wants . . . I just feel that when the time is right, it'll come up on it's own, (getting angry) when the time's right, and a man just knows when the time is right You can't push a man into doing something before it's time!

<NOTE1: fascinating. There's so much subtext in this imaginative-improved dialog. Howard just doesn't think about it, and he starts to get angry if you push him to even discuss it . . . this is best I can do with this whole proposal/marrage issue . . . fascinating.>

<NOTE2: Howard promised . . . and then he spent the rest of the summer trying to get out of it. Howard lacks a lot of courage, but that's not what this scene is about. Interestingly, in the play, we never see what happens to Howard after this scene ends -- it's not in the play. However, if it were, then Howard may wrestle with this issue, somehow. For now, in this scene, he's squirming to get out of it, out of things . . . out of life and living -- how he resolves that? That's another play.>

At the end of beat 2, I just need and want some time to think --or I just want to give this whole situation time, I don't know, I just know I don't want to deal with this, at least not now -- if I have to deal with it, I want it to be later, after I've had some time to think . . .

Beat 3. When I try to leave (again), R gets even more upset. Here's what I'm doing (physically, I'm still focusing on her, trying to pay extremely close attention to her, watching her, listening to her, trying to understand her -- she's acting unpredictably; it's way out of the ordinary. This grabs attention):

• I see she's so upset
          -- reassure her, snap her out of whatever state she's in. I know she's reacting to what happened tonight, but she's starting to . . . I'm not sure. Where is this coming from? What's going on? If I can get her to feel better, then I can leave, and ... hopefully she'll be back to her normal self by next week . . .
• At some point, she seems spent, or doesn't have anything else to say...
         -- OK, let's try to leave it there . . . things will look better in the morning, next week, it'll be ok...

Howard.
   Now look, honey, you better go upstairs and get some sleep. You gotta start school in the morning. We'll talk all this over Saturday.

Rosemary.
   Maybe you won't be back on Saturday. Maybe you won't be back ever again.

Howard.
  Rosmary, you know better than that.

Rosemary.
  Then what's the next thing in store for me? To be nice to the next man, then the next -- till there's no one left to care whether I'm nice to him or not. Till I'm ready for the grave and don't have anyone to take me there?

Howard.
  Now, Rosemary!

Rosemary.
  You can't let that happen to me, Howard. I won't let you.

Howard.
  I don't understand. When we first started going together, you were the best sport I ever saw, always good for a laugh.
  [12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: This line was always strange to me. I never knew what the hell he was trying to say, but it must be some 50's idiom or . . . I don't know, but I finally decided to use these words to communicate to R "it's not that bad, cheer up," i.e., I was trying to comfort her with these words]

Rosmary.
  I can't laugh anymore.
  [OK, let's try to leave it there . . . things will look better in the morning, next week, it'll be ok...]

Howard.
  We'll talk it over Saturday.

Rosemary.
   We'll talk it over now.
   [Damn! Now what? Shit! I'm so tired, I've got to get out of here...]

Howard.
   Well -- honey -- I

OK -- what I've been doing has been good, I think: I take a pad and pen and I write out my lines from memory and then Rosemary's line, and I look at this as a "trigger," i.e., I explore how it hits me. This exercise really helps me to discover what Howard wants and what he's doing -- by focusing on what Rosemary wants and is doing. The writings in this journal have come out of this exercise.

However -- after the pen and pad exercise, what I've got to do is immediately get on my feet and run through it.

What I've been doing is spending too much time doing a 'write-up' of the scene, i.e., beat-scene analysis (see my 11/19/05 and 11/25/05 notes). Now, that analysis seems to have taken me about 80-90% of the way, but to really nail what's going on, I've got to run through it. And as I run through it, I hope things will get more clear, more focused -- I need to really find the essential heart and simple truth of Howard in this scene (i.e., what he wants). Great acting is so simple -- that's what I want: focus, simplicity and clarity.

So -- 1st) analysis, the way I've been working in my workbook, pen and paper. 2nd) run through it. 3rd) write it up here. Goals -- the "beats" need to be SIMPLE: about one thing.

. . . I hope all this effort pays off.

I can't just seem to "decide" and write down "acting verbs" and objectives for each line or two, and then just except/hope/pray those actions happen -- something is missing, and what's missing are triggers, triggers that make those things happen automatically . . . but what is a trigger?

Beat 2

In beat #1, I seem to trying to get certain things from Rosemary.

Here, it's almost all about what I want, little about what I expect or hope because this is all taking me by surprise. It's almost like someone has pulled a gun on you, and now they're making demands on you that you never knew they had . . . What one would do is really focus on and pay extremely close attention to that person, watching them, listening to them, trying to understand them, trying to talk them down because you desperately want to get out of this situation, you want to get away from them without looking like you're trying to get away from them. It's not perfect, but it's not a bad metaphor for what's dramatic about this scene.

Focus on the triggers (i.e., what's Rosemary doing?) -- know what I want, know what I'm going to be doing physically (i.e., focus on and pay extremely close attention to her, watch her, listen to her, try to understand her , try to talk her down). I don't know what she's going to say, and I certainty don't know how I'm going to respond. The responses will be whatever they're suppose to be -- I don't want to think about/worry about/plan responses:

11 . 27 . 2005 (Sunday): OK -- this continues from Beat #1. This confirms this is about sex, about what happened tonight. I know full well now that this is what she's upset about. Beats are about ONE SIMPLE THING. With this is mind, here's what I'm doing:

• I hear she wants to go with me
            -- I don't want this: talk her down, talk her out of this
• She's so lost . . .
           -- I simply can't deal with this. I need more time.

Rosemary.
  Where you goin' Howard?

Howard.
  Honey, I gotta get home.

Rosmary.
  You can't go off without me.
  [is that a gun in her pocket?]

Howard.
  Honey, talk sense.

Rosmary.
  You can't go off without me. Not after tonight. That's sense.
  [F***k! It is a gun]

Howard.
  Honey, be reasonable.

Rosmary.
  Take me with you.

Howard.
  What'd people say?

Rosmary.
  The hell with what people'd say!
  [I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in jail!]

Howard.
  Honey!
  [12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: Here there needs to be a thought, and "Honey" starts it, e.g., 'Honey -- be reasonable' or 'Honey -- you're not yourself to night', but R cuts me off. Not having this was like just briefly putting on the breaks. Having this thought keeps me connected to R and keeps me in the flow of this section of the scene . . . it's much much smoother now]

Rosmary.
  What'd people say if I thumbed my nose at them? What'd people say if I walked down the street and showed them my pink panties? What do I care what people say?

Howard.
  Honey, you're not yourself tonight.

Rosmary.
  Yes, I am. I'm more myself then I ever was. Take me with you Howard. If you don't I don't know what I'll do with myself. I mean it.
   [I hear her say she's so lost. I can't deal with this -- I need some time here to figure out what's going on, what should I do . . .]

<NOTE: the above here is a good example of how to identify/focus on a trigger and on what I want. I haven't planned any response>.

Howard.
   Now look, honey, you better go upstairs and get some sleep. You gotta start school in the morning. We'll talk all this over Saturday.

<NOTE: Bottom line. There's a big difference between knowing what you want and what you're doing and knowing how you're going to respond in the moment . . . I'm not sure if I got it, or if all this work is exactly right, but I'm hoping I'm on the right track and that all this will become easier and more automatic, so I won't have to work so hard to really, deeply, in the most connected way I can, understand a character and a scene. That's my long-term goal and why I'm working so hard).

Since early Nov., I've been doing a lot of Guskin's taking-it-off-the-page, and that's been very good in helping to keep the scene grounded in myself. I've also been doing some preliminary thinking about what Howard wants, rudimentary 'beat' analysis, something I resist for as long as possible in favor of taking it off the page. Guskin says he started out with a lot of scene analysis, 'designing' the beats for maximum theatrical/truthful effect (or at least that's what I do), but then later came to feel constrained by this apporach, and now he seems to stick with just taking it off the page (or that's the primary technique).

I'm starting to suspect that this would only work for experience actors -- Guskin didn't solely rely on this technique until after he had years and years of professional performance experience under his belt. I think for me I definitely need to start and stay taking-it-off-the-page as long as possible, but then, I feel I need to got start "thinking" about the scene: analysis, beats, objectives, etc. -- but without getting into and staying in my head during rehearsals.

I'm hoping this two-staged approach will work to that end.

As the performance dates close in on me, I'm moving into stage two -- scene analysis. Last night, I VERY carefully concentrated on what Rosemary is saying, what she is doing, and then finding (not thinking about, but spontaneously discovering) how Howard reacts to that. This immediately brought up a series of questions (preparation homework as JZ likes to call them).

Right off the bat, I've got to know, in detail, what happens before the scene starts -- and then start the scene with that. If successful, that will start the scene off on the right foot, and the subsequent steps will be much easier because I'll have momentum and pre-existing context -- at least that's my hope. Some of H's early responses raised other questions. These questions came up as I work through the first couple of beats. I'm trying to prepare to work with these beats -- the next step will be to be more explicit about what H wants.

The idea here is to build up connections between the explicit and implicit 'given circumstances' and ... me, parts of me.

Question: How do you see R. How do you see your relationship?

                What's R like? At times she has the personality of a tank, and I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. She's funny -- she can get quite preachy, but it's possible to get her to relax (thought it usually takes a little Jack D); she can let her hair down, but only if she thinks it's safe to do so, i.e., she's sure no one will judge her shallow or inappropriate. She has a fun side -- that's clear to everyone, yet at the same time, she's very proper. Part of the fun of being with R is getting her to let her hair down, and I can usually do that. If I couldn't, I don't know if we'd be together, because she can be a pain. She's very opinionated and independent, and I like that -- at least the independent part.

                 So why do you date her? Well, like I said, she's fun to be with -- but you gotta get to know her a bit before you know that. That's what initially attracted me to her. This smart, independent, outgoing, funny, respectable, proper woman who has a bit of hidden fun streak. If I couldn't get her to give into that fun streak (and I've got a fun streak a mile long, let me tell you), then it probably just wouldn't work. And she's a good friend. She's a good person, and I like that.

                 Do you love her? Well, I don't know about that. She's a very good friend. Ummm . . . I don't think about that question really. It's a little too early in our relationship to think about that. I like her and we have fun.

                 How do you think R feels? Oh, well, I think she feels the same. Look, we're not kids, we have our developed, separate lives. She's a school teacher, I own a five & dime in Cherryvale, just off of S. Liberty street a block up from Logan Park -- it's pretty big, been expending for the last 5 years. Times are good. I'm even thinking about opening another store on the other side of town. During the school year, I drive over to Independence on the weekend (during the summer, like now, I can stay a bit longer: she's not teaching and the summer is usually slow for me so I can close up early or just have Fred Jenken's mind the store for me if I leave early on a Friday or get back late on Monday) -- she boarders with Mrs. Owens and I stay at the hotel in town. I can afford that. Besides, Kansas is a dry state, and I know some boys at the hotel who run a speakeasy in the back. I like coming over to visit R, and we sure have a good time.

Question. What happened after the picnic and before you got back to Ms. Owens?

R was "awful nice" to me after the picnic. Near dark, as the picnic was ending, as people started leaving, R & I, not drunk, but tipsy, gathered up our stuff, picnic basket, blankets, and discreetly moved away from everyone until we found a quite, isolated spot. We had to be very discreet -- Mrs Owens, a very nice lady, but she's the town hawk -- eyes and ears on everything. We took pains to make sure she didn't notice. R looked very beautiful. We laid down together . . .

I feel like -- yes! Mission accomplished! It's a great victory. I really liked (love maybe) R -- she can be fun to be with -- in front of everyday folks, she's quite proper (almost too much), but yet she can let her hair down. Now I have even more reasons to get over to Independence -- maybe even more than 2-3 times/week! But afterworlds, she was ... different. I mean, we were laying there, looking up a the stars. I had my left arm around her. I mean, I didn't do anything. I was the way I always was, and suddenly she was acting depressed or pre-occupied about something. I don't know, but I felt uncomfortable . . . like I was doing something wrong and I didn't quite know what to do that was right . . . I'm hoping that it isn't about that -- I don't even want to think about that . . .

<NOTE: I, the "actor," know full well what's going on, but Howard doesn't. Again, the trick is to focus solely how on H sees things, imagine how he feels, what he wants. If this were a real scene, it would be difficult. It's also possible that this isn't possible. Perhaps I should "use" what I know -- I know exactly what she wants, explore how I/he feels about that and start the scene that way...interesting. My gut tells me that Howard just isn't this aware . . . in the scene, however, Rosemary MAKES him very aware, and that's why I don't want to start with what "I" know>.

So I said, OK -- we better go, get back. R, you know how she is, wanted to stay longer, but it was getting late, I was getting tried, and I needed to get back to Cherryvale. Once R gets an idea in her head, it's damn hard to get it out, but I insisted that we had to leave and R, unusual for her, was not very talkative on the way back -- that was a bit tense, but I figured she was tired or maybe a bit mad at me for wanting to leave, but the park was getting dark, everyone had left. I tried talking to her as we drove back, but something was up, I don't know what. Sometimes she get's moody, I don't know what to say, and so I just leave her alone.

Anyway, I'm really too tired, in fact, really tried, to talk about anything anyway -- Cherryvale's a hour's drive -- whatever it is, if it's important, if it's about what happened tonight, can wait till next Saturday when I get back to see her.

Question. Ok, you're back at Ms. Owens -- what is going on with Rosemary, do you think? How do you feel?

Me -- I'm dead tried, really. It was such a long day. We had been drinking through most of it. I'm feeling pretty wiped out. And R, at the park, was acting a bit clingy -- occasionally she'll get like that, and I can't say as I like it really -- I don't know why. And on the way back, she was tense, quiet, and I just don't want to deal with it. Maybe it has something to do with what happened tonight, and about how I couldn't stay. What's going on with her -- why is she so monosyllabic? Is it . . . (briefly suspecting something deeper going on with her, but pushing that back): Look -- she doesn't want her vacation to end, even though it's over. Summer's over. She's like that. Good grief, it's just a week -- I'll be back in a week. Whatever is going on, either she'll forget about it (I hope) or it'll all be in a different light next week, but the moon fully up -- in fact, it's 1am & it's starting it's descent. The stars are out, it's a beautiful cool night, and I'm so looking forward to the peaceful ride home, the wind, the quiet, smoking a cigarette (something else R does like me doing), and then falling into bed, and then starting the new season, kids going back to school, everyone coming back from vacation, and opening a brand new store for them all. I'm worried about what's going on with Rosemary -- was tonight a mistake? The sooner I can get away, the better, I think.

Beat 1

Pre-scene thoughts/focus: R is acting strange/tense. 1) Is she OK, about tonight? 2) Were we discreet enough? 3) I want to leave and put some distance between tonight and when we next meet, next weekend probably. I feel a strong need for "space."

Wants and hopes/expectations: Reassurance -- is R OK, were we discreet enough? I'm hoping R will snap out of whatever state she's in -- something's different about her. I'm also hoping that NOBODY suspects what happen tonight. It'll be easier to manage, and R is discreet -- in fact, she was insistent about this at the Park: I thought I'd have to wait forever . . . now I'm kind of wishing I did. <PERFORMANCE GOALS: wants and expectations -- this is the only place where my attentions will be . . . I've no idea how R will response. The Key, the GOLDEN KEY, will be to just respond to whatever she's giving me. Of course, H, when he doesn't get what he needs here, this motivates him to leave, but this can't be a planned response -- it needs to be triggered naturally. If I can do that, I'll have started the scene off on the right foot>.

11 . 27 . 2005 (Sunday): The above is too complicated i.e., I'm not really concerned we're were not discreet enough. Beats are about ONE SIMPLE THING.

Starting thought/state: Rosemary is upset about what happened tonight. And she's not talking to me. The subtext here is all I'm trying to do is get her to talk to me about what's going on. I know what I want -- I want tonight NOT to be a big deal. I'm worried: I'm hoping that she's really OK. It would be great to get some reassurance that she is.

(By opening night, 12 . 12 . 2005, I had simplified this beat even more -- so, this is one way I think too much: things are too complicated. Really, I have one simple goal: to get home. True, I'm aware R isn't talking, something is going on, I really don't know about what, really (and that's very Howard), and calling it a night is really the best thing. One mistake I had made was assuming (anticipating really) what R was upset about -- I really don't know, and getting home gets me out of that anyway. The note to myself: my goal is to go home, that's my target. Slow down, relax, let her know I had a good time, say good night, and just go home, that's all I'm doing. Dramatically, this is great because a lot of what is dramatic in the scene are what David Ball calls "forwards," i.e., R starts things, almost out of the blue, Howard never sees it coming, and that's a big forward for everyone, i.e., what the heck is about to happen, where is this going -- it's very dramatic for Howard).

Howard.
  Well here we are honey, right back where we started from.
Rosemary.
  uhh...

Howard.
  You were awful nice to me tonight Rosemary.
Rosemary.
  uhh...

Howard.
  Do you think Mrs. Owens suspect anything?
Rosemary.
  I don't care if she does.
  [12. 12. 2005: This triggers: Ok, that's my cue, I'd better go rather than get into this, whatever it is ...]

Howard.
  Well a business man's gotta be careful of talk. And after all, you're a school teacher. Well, I better be getting back to Cherryvale. I gotta open up the store in the morning. Good night Rosemary.
Rosemary.
  uhh...

Howard.
  Good night. Maybe I should say good morning. (He starts off)
Rosemary.
  Where you goin' Howard?