It has been an immensely gratifying week, and I feel loved, appreciated, talented, and am possessed of goodwill to all.

I am tired, having done four shows and entertained many out of town guests this weekend, great friends who made the trek to a community theatre in Saratoga with love for me in their hearts but also wary as to what, exactly, I was about to inflict upon them. I mean, on paper, this could have been awful. We've all sat through shows for the sake of our friends, and, as Esther will tell you, when it is I who has had to endure bad theatre, I never mince words when asked for my opinion, even by the friend who was in the show. Friends who have known me longer know not to ask my opinion unless they are prepared to have me tell them exactly what I think.

The response to La Mancha has been extraordinary! This is a theatre group where the actors are asked to go into the lobby after the performance and thank the audience for attending (tacky, but like the pre-show announcement urging subscriptions for the upcoming season, a fact of life I'll just have to get over), and our overwhelmingly senior citizen audience (median age 75, I'll bet, particularly at the matinees) makes the most of it. One tries to clear the mind of all response save "Thank you for coming" and "I am so glad you enjoyed our show," in face of wave after wave of Shalimar and Evening in Paris-scented old ladies who, god love 'em, think I am the best thing since John Raitt and Pavarotti combined. My favorite line so far, repeated in various ways: "I saw the original with Richard Kiley and you were better!" Well, thank you, my dears, for even though there is no way I can take such praise seriously, what would live theatre be without you in the audience? And what are we to do as you all die off and the next generation seems uninterested in taking your place?

But the seniors are not the only attendees, and the comments from the less-aged members of our audience are no less effusive, though occasionally flabbergasting. "This is the first time I've ever liked this play" is a common one, as is "This is the first time I ever understood this play." One wonders what woebegotten productions they have seen in the past. I am of the opinion that the script for Man of La Mancha is right up there with GYPSY and 1776 as paragons of writing for the musical stage, but I also am aware of the flaws in the play as a whole. Still, I have seen high school productions and it was at least clear what the "message" of the playwright was.

My old theatre friends would not try to sugar coat their responses to me, so the fact that their praise for my performance ranged from impressed to overwhelmed touches me deeply. Thanks to them, I can now allow myself to be confident I am doing the best work of my life and that, my initial thoughts aside, Cervantes/Don Quixote is a role I was born to play. Who'd a thunk it? How I wish my grandmother were alive to see this! Or that I could somehow get my aunt on a plane to see me do this role. My mother, brother and partner, and son will come closing weekend, along with my close friend Sheldon, who is flying in from San Antonio to see it, spend the weekend with me, and help strike the set! And Thom/Sean comes next weekend, flying up for less than 24 hours before he opens a show of his own--now those are friends! I took a hotel room close to the theatre Friday night and had my friend Dave stay with me, and it was such a good idea I will be doing it for the next two weekends with Thom and then Sheldon, particularly next weekend, when I have four shows in 48 hours!

But the friends that came and saw the show offered me invaluable insight. The comments I got from my nearest and dearest really helped me put the whole show into perspective--much of what I feel is problematic about this production they confirmed, in addition to seeing and pointing out a few things I cannot see from onstage.

Leah was able to point out to me that my transitions from Cervantes to Quixote are no