1776.5

In a world.....where rolling purple prairie skies stretch as far as the eye can see....where be-stockinged men with ribbon bedecked ponytails and resplendent attire hoard furniture and complain about imaginary insects....where opinionated pincushions and pious skunks share the same table....
This is the world of "1776".

Lights up on the antique chair section of the West End Antiques Mall. I am immediately sorry for all the rest of the population of Richmond 2016 and the assorted colonies of 1776 who are obviously without seating in their homes and workplaces.
One by one, every man I know enters the stage. I am not surprised to see Scott, given his Facebook announcement of intended participation in this production back in the fall of 1997. He's got a great wig. Smartly tailored breeches. Two navy tails which he is extremely adept at swishing smartly away from his fanny pre-seating himself on the only bench left outdoors in all of Philadelphia. He delivers a smart, passionate performance and proves that, after all is said and done, he wins the day by whipping out the most prestigious gobo there ever was for his 1:30 AM power ballad. Not once though, did he go get me a soda.
Jason walks in. It may actually have been Ben Franklin. I understand at once why he's taken to sharply sporting fedoras around the city for the past six weeks. Sometimes, in the course of this business, one is called upon to divest certain parts of their person of hair. And then to add it elsewhere. I won't go too far into that-
Except to say that when Andy Boothby makes his appearance, I am reminded at once of a conversation we had in the Novempire lobby weeks ago wherein he pressed his wrist to mine, leaned close, and announced in covert tones, "I'm getting a weave." I chortle. Sure you are. He did.
It's a good weave. Andy's entrance featuring tartan-patterned vest, grey ponytail waterfall, and stick he's snatched out of nature and polished to a pleasing sheen is very effective. He does an excellent grunt near the middle of Act VI. Matt Costello appears in the same costume he wore in "The Crucible" fifteen years ago. He still wears it well. His character also has the distinction of being the only member of Congress with a functioning stomach and bladder and therefore gets to make entrances and exits to visit the bar and the loo, respectively.
Michael Hawke is up center presiding over all of this. He's got a fly swatter and a gavel and the golden opportunity given his blocking to have any piece of reading material down to and including an iPad with which to watch Netflix on his desk to pass the time. He presides and presides, and continues to preside even given the unfortunate fact that he has Ford as his assistant. Ford thinks we don't know it's him because he's wearing hair the color of a Hershey bar and not leaning forward when he speaks. But I cannot be fooled. Once upon a time, you see, I was Ford's assistant. This resulted in a long stretch in prison and the eternal understanding that I am under his purview and required by law to wear an ankle tracker in any and all situations in which I am allowed contact with other human beings.*
Jody strides in. I haven't seen him since we did a kick line downstage center with Emily Skinner, Brandon McKinney, and a jump rope made from hard and painful wooden balls during "Mame" a couple of years ago. I wonder what he'd think if he knew that I looked at a picture of his father in my garage every day from the age of nine til the age of eighteen.**
Ian spends most of the evening gnawing on a metal candy dish- I am assuming in at attempt to vent his frustrations over the ongoing feud between Landon and himself over which of them is actually wearing the authentic Robert Throckmorton Captain Hook doublet from "Peter Pan". Good arguments have been made for both sides, but ultimately Landon starts to question the veracity of his claim and retreats to his home in the treehouse downstage left. The treehouse is under renovation, as evidenced by the painter's tape lining the railings, but it's safely inhabitable, and Landon is quite comfortable there wadding up paper and waiting for Christie to arrive in Philadelphia, which is taking forever. He's almost to the end of his legal pad and the props department is considering putting in for extra budget to replenish Jefferson's office supplies when suddenly Christie appears. She looks beautiful, which is impressive given that we see clearly that she was forced to travel all the way to Philadelphia on foot, jogging, and without a single piece of luggage. She tactfully says nothing about the endlessly ongoing renovation and climbs happily into the treehouse with Landon, where she will likely immediately chew him out for burning through her stationary.
Scott and Jason hang out outside like proper colonial stalkers for a good while and secretly lament the fact that they have stolen all the furniture for Congress because it'd be a lot more comfortable lurking in the street all night if they had something comfortable to sit on. Jason can't take it anymore and exits into the down right box, presumably to get a head start on the score of "Company," but Scott deigns to wait.
He's a little sad- with no benches he has no quality surface upon which to practice his tail flicks- but he resigns himself to the evening with lovely memories of his recent wedding to the stunning Eva and their honeymoon to a beautiful part of the world where one can stand about contemplatively on rocky terrain and have their photo taken, or float effortlessly in a mirror-surfaced pool wearing furry boots and kneesocks. His thoughts turn at some point in the wee small hours to a college pal of Paul Major's -Sarah- who's also in this production of "1776" playing his wife, Abigail. Sarah's thrilled by this because it means she will finally have the opportunity to enter and thusly, to sit down. Frustrations over lack of seating elsewhere in the colonies are spreading, you see. She hangs up Scott's coat and soothes his fears all while maintaining her side of the case in what is clearly an ongoing argument about the necessity of sending dangerous and potentially useless chemicals through the mail.
Off in the distance, the mailman overhears the continuing argument and is relieved when no agreement is reached. As part of his job description, he is required to run everywhere he goes and that's hot enough in leather boots and a jacket, let alone lugging crates of saltpeter. He is more grateful still when, the next evening, Lucas invites him to hang out and have a drink onstage at the Novempire after rehearsal with himself and Mr. Cameron, who moonlights as a camp counselor for children's theater camps during the summer. The guys have a swell time. Kicking back, singing haunting ballads that if one is not careful one can miss on opening night by being in the bathroom that close to intermission.
Serenity reigns. For the moment. Suddenly- bolstered by his hearty breakfast earlier that morning to fuel up for an unprecedented 9-show week, Jody charges in and leads the stage left side of the cast in a rousing rendition of "Poor Unfortunate Souls" during which they all demonstrate their fine posture and dexterity with pivot turns. Meanwhile, up center, Michael Hawke gets in another episode of "Stranger Things."
Alexander's been holding his tongue in his most challenging role to date- that of an incorrectly opinionated and very pink pincushion. He passes the time by crossing and uncrossing his legs in extreme slow motion in an attempt to distract us all from the fact that the back of his jacket looks exactly like a vagina. He displays blatant disregard for any and all of the hoarded furniture by banging his cane against the floor and standing on tops of tables to sing numbers everyone has already voted against him doing in the first place- even to the point of imperiling the life of one older gentleman who's is such a bad way his face is only held together by earmuffs and hot glue.
Steve, who I last witnessed wearing tights in "Once Upon A Mattress," and Craig, who I last witnessed wearing tights in "Into the Woods," are sharing a table with Eddie, who at evening's end, finally brings unity to the group- no small feat at a table shared with a pincushion, a skunk, and Craig From "Into The Woods."
Landon and Ian agree to disagree on the origin of their doublets. Scott is peacefully smug- secure in the knowledge that his gobo, though unseen by all of the other male actors in Richmond who were probably in the rehearsal hall tweeting photos of themselves in period attire- reigns supreme.
Jody alone remains unsettled. But proves the gravity of his emotion by demonstrating again to one and all that when what you have to say in this Congress is truly of import, you develop the ability to walk through walls.


*Ford Flannagan is one of the smartest, wittiest people I know. He also has an extensive collection of envy-inducing M.C. Hammer pants and a chamber devoted entirely to pirates.
**I did not know it was his father at the time.