Gotta Dance

Last Monday I went up to New York for a reunion of my class from the University of Michigan.

Did you know I went to Michigan?

Yeah, University of Michigan, in Ann Arbor. I was a musical theater major in their school of music for two years. Imagine that.

The story of Michigan: when I graduated from high school I was dead set on pursuing a degree in musical theater. I neglected to consider at the time that I was, while perhaps not a terrible dancer, never going to be someone who got paid to dance (not like THAT, silly) or that while I had been singing for years and had some ability--my belt was weak, my vocal break obvious, and my overall endurance questionable.

I'd performed in musicals all of my life, and stubbornly insisted I should continue to do that.

I auditioned and was accepted at Michigan, which actually does have a strong musical theater programs. I think the head of the program thought I was smart and he liked that. I had a really good high school transcript.

Anyway, one year into it I knew that the program was not for me so I spent that second year researching and applying to schools to transfer into my third year. That school turned out to be North Carolina and blahty-blah, it all unfolded from there.

I have stayed in contact with several folks from the Michigan years. Well, one. And a half. Anyhow--this reunion was arranged by a classmate I haven't seen since I left the school in 1995. That was, ummm... a long time ago.

I started having second thoughts about going up a few days before the actual event. BC, who left michigan at the same time I did and also transferred to North Carolina wouldn't let me back out.

"It will be fun" he said.

"How so? These people don't know me! I was a different person back then. What will I have to say to them? What if I don't like them? What if they don't like me? What if they never liked me? Everyone always liked you better, of course you want to go."

BC has known me through pretty much every "different person" I have been since eighteen years old. None of which were that different from the one you know today. He rolled his eyes.

"Come on. It will be fun. You said you'd go. You'll go."

In the end, I went. In the end, it was fun. In the end, I had plenty to say to people and I liked everyone.

BC usually knows best.

The group that gathered (at a bar in the West 50s) included eleven of us, split nearly evenly between gay men and straight women. We had straight men in our class, but most of them have since made their way to LA.

A few are still acting. Laura is the downtown darling of NY and recently made her Broadway debut. Monica is writing some and acting some and producing some, a creative little team with her boyfriend of several years who also writes some, acts some and produces some. She also remains one of the funniest women I know. Greg and Adam both work for big important producer lady. They had fun stories and exciting ideas about the future of New York theater. Danielle has a little girl and a husband and acts and teaches in Allentown, PA (yes, Allentown). Brenda is acting and married to a clown. I mean, really. He's a clown. He travels around and eats fire and stuff. Jason is going to become a therapist. David is tearing it up in tinsel town. And Matt is working to ensure that there is a future for the American musical.

Who did I forget?

Everyone seems (I dare say) relatively content. Struggles abound, sure. Financial, of course. Questions about the future. Heartsickness, here and there. But people are searching, exploring. Everyone looks so much like they did when we were in school.

The same, but better. Healthier, I think.