21 years ago I went to my first non-school related audition (!). I had always loved theatre, I had done some shows in high school – but only one musical. I loved musical theatre but had been told at an early age by my parents that I couldn’t sing. I had worked up a song for an elementary school talent show – I think it was sixth grade. I excitedly performed it for my parents. I will never forget my dad telling me that it was really bad and I shouldn’t embarrass myself. Nice. I didn’t do it. Although I really wanted to sing and I really wanted to perform I didn’t try anything else for years, and when I did I was severely undermined by the voice of my parents in my head. But I so loved theatre, I wanted to go to New York and try for it – I sang in my room with my headphones on, I sang to the records I had. I went to shows that others did and envied their talent and their opportunity to perform. I was a cast album fanatic. Ever since the Sound of Music became the ultimate repeat album during free-listening time in second grade – I devoured them. In high school – Little Shop of Horrors was my obsession. I wanted to be Seymour so badly I could taste it. In my room with that album playing I could sing – I belted those songs and carried on like a maniac. Anyway.

Then it was 1988. There it was. The local semi-professional community theatre group was going to do “Little Shop of Horrors” and destiny called me. Here it was the beginning of the beginning – finally Seymour would be mine. I found the sheet music to a song that I thought would show off my voice well. Plus I knew it cold from singing along with it a billion times while listening to the cast album of Pippin. Corner of the Sky was going to catapult me to Seymour-dom. I went down to the theatre on the Saturday of auditions – nervous as hell and there were the people I so often saw on stage. I am sitting in the darkened room, filling out the audition info sheet, watching, and waiting. Then it’s my turn. Oh my. What a total disaster. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t realize how differently a song sounds with only a piano to accompany it. I was not good. At all. Cringeworthy. They did that thing, where they have you vocalize to scales, that they do when your audition song sucks so bad they can’t tell if you can sing or not so they have to figure it out that way. I read for various parts, did better at that, but not much. I did the dance audition. Ahem. I didn’t get the part and never went back to audition there again.

I eventually went back to college, and fell into theatre again. I had great teachers and great peers and great opportunities and I got to know what I was doing. I grew confident in my skill. Bit by bit I learned how to audition, I learned how to have confidence in what I was doing. I learned that I was really good at it and I learned how to ignore the negative voices from the past or present and do what you do. In the middle of all that ‘Little Shop” came my way again. Seymour was precast, but I auditioned my ass off and got the part of Mushnik, my first solo musical part since Arvide Abernathy in high school. It was a very mixed experience. We had some great times and some heinously awful times. The cast was huge and the director was vindictive and out of control. Racial tensions boiled over. It was a train-wreck and fantastic and a cherished memory of good and bad. I think it was 1996 maybe 97. These things run together.

And here it is – the now: 2009. 21 years after my first audition, and Little Shop is before me again. Only this time, this time I am at the top of my game artistically. I love auditioning, I am good at it. I love acting, I am good at it. I love singing, I am good at it. The theatre that is doing the show is one I know well, I respect the folks there, and they respect me. In the 21 intervening years I feel like the actor and artist within me has really grown up and become an adult.

I had told myself I was too old now to do Seymour – but then I reconsidered that stance. I could do it, I could pull it off – the guy who did it on Broadway just a few years ago is only two years younger than me. I can do this! There are a couple of guys who can do it as well, I know my competition and they are real competition. It isn’t a given that I will get it, but I plan to fight. The intricate casting calculus begins – who else is out there, who would be this part and who will be that part – if so-and-so is Audrey what does that mean for me? Combinations, possibilities, shifting and twitching and sorting and planning. But in every one of those calculations it’ll work! The day of auditions comes and we’re off to the races. First audition is fairly straightforward. Sing a song, make it through to callbacks. Callbacks. Callbacks. Callbacks are where it counts. Callbacks, where we will sing from the show, read from the show, pair up with the other potentials and see how the arrangements works, who clicks together, who will and won’t work. Callbacks are where the claws come out and the serious work happens. I am ready for this callback.

So, we go for it. Right away I see a huge problem for me – there aren’t any Mushniks. Where are the older guys who can do it? They didn’t show. The few that are there aren’t going to cut it. I am very clearly the only guy who can do it. I audition for Mushnik and nail the song and nail the scene. I kill it. Dammit. Then I sit and cringe as the other Mushnik’s go forward and do the opposite. Sigh. One young man goes up and does a great job, but there is no way he will be able to play the age. But then the Seymour’s start auditioning – I get to sing and read for that as well. The folks I thought were my competition do not perform to their abilities. They aren’t connecting and aren’t finding it. I am firing on all cylinders. I act and sing the hell out of the songs and the scenes. I am IMHO by FAR the best Seymour. This could really happen! They sing the Dentists. I read and sing for that as well. Great – there are a couple of guys who do really well with this. They sing the Audreys. We do it again. We read it some more. We sing some more. Three hours goes by. At the end of Callback One I know they have an interesting and worthwhile dilemma. I think they can cast it three times – almost. They only have one Mushnik. I killed as Mushnik and I killed as Seymour. There were a couple of guys who could do Seymour, but my pre-callback competition aren’t among them. Some of us retire to a bar and ponder. We are joined by the Director and Musical director. They share that they are pondering. We share that we recognize the challenge. There are a couple of other folks who haven’t yet auditioned, who couldn’t make this callback who they still have to read. They decide to do another round of callbacks. Whittle it down to their favorites for each part and throw it around again – plus pull in a couple more Mushniks to expand their options.

Callback Round 2 comes on. I am excited cause someone is supposed to show who I KNOW can do Mushnik. Someone else is there who has talent but hasn’t really put it on display, isn’t a superstrong singer but might could be very interesting as Mushnik. The time arrives. Take two, much smaller group. The person I thought was my main competition for Seymour isn’t there – his callback was not good work. There is one other Seymour from the audition list and although not originally part of the Callback Round 2 list they added in the three guys who are up for the Dentist. The major Mushnik doesn’t show – he isn’t auditioning! Curses! But there is still one other guy who could do it, and one other guy who is there to audition for it. Three of us sing the Mushnik song. I kill it. Scenes are read. I kill the Mushnik scene. My competition for Mushnik? Not so much. Could they do it? Probably. Maybe. Yes they could. Not as well as I but they could do it. I get to read and sing the Dentist and I think I sing it the best. The scene goes really well, I don’t really expect to be seriously considered for the Dentist but I give it my all and get laughs so that’s cool. I am the only guy who reads for all three parts. We read the Seymour’s – the other guy who is being considered doesn’t do very well. He is perfectly competent but is pretty much the same as he is in everything else I have seen him do. He would be fine for Seymour but he isn’t exciting or interesting in his audition. He doesn’t click with the Audrey’s. I get a little more intrigued. We read the scenes, I think I do really well. I don’t get to read with who I think will be Audrey so that bodes not well. But the Audrey I do read with knocks the scene out of the park and we work very well together. This could happen. One of the probable Dentists does well as Seymour. He could do it. For me to get Seymour they have to be willing to go with a much less strong Mushnik. Of course I think that would be worth it.

We gather after again. The director joins the small circle and declares it very interesting. He is still faced with figuring out combinations and could probably still cast it three ways. Well two ways for Mushnik. If he wants me as Seymour that is. We go home and the waiting begins. I know I can do this part. I think I did the best at it. There were two other guys who I think could also do it with some trade-offs. One other guy who I will be very very unhappy if he gets it. The interminable wait begins.

I get a voicemail.

Mushnik.

I die a little bit.

I know why it turned out the way it did. I probably would have cast it very similarly. I understand it. I am so disappointed nonetheless. It is not a major injustice or a travesty or anything. I call the director back to let him know that yes, I will do it. I let him know I am disappointed but I will do it. He wants me to assure him that it is okay. I tell him “it is what it is.” Like if it wasn’t okay it would change anything? I discover the cast list was already posted on Facebook prior to my accepting the role. The young kid who was on my short list of Seymours has already posted that he got the role he had been “thinking about for two months” in his status update.

I realize that I have been thinking about this role longer than he has been alive. I realize that realistically this was my last chance to play this role. It realize it is much harder to take than I thought it would be. I realize that I am actually devastated. I twitter that I feel broken a little bit, and I realize that it is true.

In my mind I knew that one day I would play Seymour. It was just one of those things that I knew would happen. Seymour was one of those iconic parts that I would just get to do one day. Through all of these years, through all of the learning and changing and growing I guess it was always in the back of my head, part of my understanding of the world and the way things unfold that I would play this part one day. And this time, this time I really should have.

And this time I realize I won’t. And I also realize that I never will.

Folks are telling me “but you will kick ass as Mushnik!” “You’ll be great” – I even get told I will steal the show. I know the show will itself be good. The cast makes sense. I am not being egotistical here but I know I will do a great Mushnik. I will nail it.

But it isn’t about that. I know. I. KNOW. I would have done a great Seymour. But it isn’t about that.

It is about letting go of a dream, coming to grips with age and mortality, expectations and hopes. Where I am and where I wanted to be and where I see myself. Who knew that this audition, this show, this thing, would cause such tremors and vibrations. Would knock things off shelves and shatter fragile stuff I thought I had put away. I face myself and this casting decision forces me to see things differently. It isn’t the negative voices of the past or present it is the reality that every actor must one day face as they transition through those stages of life. A whole series, a whole segment of opportunities close. Others may open to be sure, and there are still many parts on my list of “gotta play that before I die” but now I get to cross them off not only when I play them, but when I age out of the possibility of playing them. I feel a little bit broken.

I got drunk alone last night.