Senior Theatrics

From his Shakespearean experience in college to senior theatrics after retirement, writer and humorist Joel Samberg experiences an unexpected callback.

Some people say that the older you get, the fewer surprises there are in life.

I beg to differ.

Let me begin by explaining that at the beginning of college I majored in theatre. Halfway through I realized that what I truly wanted to do was write. So I switched to journalism. But that doesn’t mean that my senior years have been devoid of theatrical drama. They have, and I’m happy about that because I believe that real-life theatrics can only add to the contributions I make as a writer.

Recently my personal drama was quite, well… Shakespearean.

Here’s the story.

I once played Romeo in high school. It wasn’t easy. I had to wear tights in front of kids who made fun of me even when I wore pants. The red hair and freckles didn’t help, either. Juliet was played by a cute, dark-haired girl named Linda, and she and I got along well during rehearsals. If there was any realism at all to our love scenes – and I’d like to believe there was – it sprang from the fact that we treated each other with respect. After all, we were serious young students of the theater.

Linda and I lost touch shortly after we killed ourselves on stage, but soon I met another girl, Bonnie, and she didn’t seem to mind a red-headed, freckle-faced Romeo. Before long, I proposed. Fortunately, our families weren’t at war, and we didn’t have to resort to putrid potions and pointy swords to prove our love for each another. We just celebrated our 45th anniversary.

Recently Bonnie had to take a diagnostic test at the hospital. We met doctors and technologists who made us feel relaxed. By this time I was retired. I didn’t have to wear a tie or shave every day. I worked on books and articles well into the early morning hours, puffing on pencils and pumped up with day-old coffee. I finally felt like the starving artist I had always wanted to be, without actually having to starve to do it.

When Bonnie and I returned to the hospital for a follow-up visit, I was tired, my eyes mere slits. I wore sloppy writer’s clothes. I was unshaven. I fell asleep in the waiting room. Suddenly I was awakened by a doctor. She introduced herself with a smile. I felt bad that I wasn’t in a better state of mind to return the pleasantries. Despite this, the doctor seemed willing to engage in small talk. But with no energy to respond, I simply kept quiet. The doctor nodded her head and went away.

Moments later, Bonnie came out.

“Did Linda say hi?” she said, smiling.

“Who?” I asked.

“The doctor – your Juliet from high school,” she exclaimed. “She came out to talk to you, didn’t she?”

Had I known it was Linda, I could have at least acted halfway normal. That’s assuming I’m a decent enough actor. I’ll never know. I think all I can do it write about it.

Joel Samberg’s work has appeared in Pittsburgh Magazine, Hartford Magazine, Brooklyn Magazine, Moment Magazine and many others. He also writes the popular monthly “Off Ramp” column for Connecticut Magazine, for which he recently won first place in the humor column category from the Connecticut division of the Society of Professional Journalists. He is also the author of eight published books. Recently Joel founded a community theater and performing arts group in Avon, Connecticut, called Playhouse 44, allowing him to continue his senior theatrics.