A promise is a promise.
As soon as Brynn (a young lady who played my son -- she was 10, it was fine -- in Tommy this past summer) was cast in her middle school play (a comedy called The Curse of the Bard), she asked if I would come see the show. She was so intent on my seeing it that I couldn't even think of saying no.
"I'll be there on Opening Night," I told her. "Front row center."
And so, on Wednesday evening, I headed out for a grand night of theatre at the middle school. I even managed to snag a seat in the front row, sitting with (as it happened), the director of Tommy, the music director of Tommy, and her daughter, who was in Tommy.
As the music director was sitting down, she asked if I'd heard from Brynn's mother that day. I hadn't.
"I don't think Brynn's here," she said. A few moments later, the teacher in charge confirmed it. Brynn was home sick; her part would be played by another student.
To be fair, although I promised Brynn I'd show up, she never promised the same to me.
The show was about to begin, and given where I was sitting, there was no graceful way for me to sneak out. Besides, I wasn't about to be the jerk who walked out on a middle school play. Instead, though, I was the creep-o who sat in the front row for a middle school play in which I knew no one. (Well, almost no one. There were a few other Tommy alumni.)
On the up side, the show was actually very funny. There are certainly worse ways to spend a Wednesday evening. And hey, at least they weren't doing Annie.
