The Story of Daniel Episode Seven - Part Two - Sophomore Woes

The Story of Daniel

Episode Seven - Part Two

Sophomore Woes

Dear readers, I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this before in your life. Meeting someone else where they’d kept an almost unbelievable depth of principle and conviction to their art. If you have, you know what an incredible experience it can be and how the whole process can take everyone involved to another place.  ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’ was that experience for Susan Myers, Truman Dunahoo and Danny Hanning.

 

Let me set the stage, for our continued journey.  The very last play Pearland had seen was ‘Bye Bye Birdie’. It was flashy, it was loud, there was a lot of movement, and a lot of people. It cost the drama department a lot of money.  So, there wasn’t much money left for our contest play.  Let me set the stage a little for you. In Texas, at the time of this play, a high school department (be they Band, Choir or Drama) would get its budget increased or decreased based on the previous year’s contest results.  Let me tell you, contest results could make or break a high school department’s budget for the next year.  With the financial debacle, that was ‘Bye Bye Birdie’, this year’s U.I.L. contest had to be a home run for Truman. That or he would have no budget, next year, for his very first major school play.

 

Let me try and unpack that a little, as we say in the business.  The last play had spent thousands of dollars, remember this is in 1974, thousands upon thousands of dollars on set pieces that could only be used once. As I learned, from Truman, a high school drama department needs lots of muslin and flats.  These flats are eight foot by four-foot walls made with ¼-inch wood structure with muslin nailed, then sized to fit tightly onto the frame.  Then these panels get put together, and painted, to give you a beautiful photo realistic set.  If you ever seen one of Truman’s plays; be it one of mine or one of the many that came after. Then you, my friend, know what can be done with some ¼-inch wood, some muslin, cornstarch and paint.  The last director, of ‘Bye Bye Birdie’, had invested nothing in these materials. The very materials that we needed to build sets for our next major show.

 

See Truman had to have a winner at the U.I.L. contest or he would not have a budget, no money for building the sets and he would need to have a show.  See, this is why I say what Truman did, was playing it smart and safe.  He also played it cheap. The set, for ‘Lightning Bugs’, was a park bench. Then there were our costumes, and a little pancake makeup. I bought my costume for the play, and I think Susan had her mother make her costume as well. 

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the show you are about to see is about a country that no longer exists.  America was a country of county fairs. America was a country of warm summers, hot dogs, and apple pie.  The play, in short, was about an America that no longer existed.  ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’ was a 22 minute single act duet, between Susan Myers and I, that took the audience for a trip back in Americana.  Moreover, it was a play that; Truman Dunahoo, Susan Myers and Daniel Hanning rode all the way the state. Well, almost, all the way to state.   

          That play was the single most successful production, for Pearland high school’s drama department, in the Universal Interscholastic League competitions, ever.  At district I won best actor, Susan won best actress, Truman won best director, and the play won best play. We flipping swept the awards.  We walked into the regional contest the best one act play team and the best entertainment any Texan could spend their money on, in theater that year.  That play and that show was the single tightest performance I’d ever been in my entire life (to that point). You couldn’t squeeze up playing card in between the lines in that play, it was that tight.  We were the best play, of the time, when we came back from that district contest, and all signs pointed to us sweeping Regional’s too.

 

          We knew who our competition was, that year. As well, we knew the plays we were competing with, for the Regional contest.  See that was the great thing about the U.I.L. Once you get started, in the contest, with a play you did the same play all away from the first contest to ‘State’. Therefore, we knew whom we were competing against and what play they were required to perform.  We had a lock on being the on the stage, that year, at state.  So, two weeks after our fantastic win at district, we headed to the regional contest. 

         There is a lot about this that I’m just now putting together and remembering. This was my first year going to another school and performing.  I remember Truman had to charter a school bus to get us to the regional contest. It was just Susan,Truman and myself. Oh, there was a park bench, and a handful props but not a whole school bus! So, we used the bus to do vocal exercises all the way to the contest site. The ride was a ton of fun, we ran lines from the play, goofed off, made up voices for passing drivers and generally were a nuisance. 

          When we got to the contest I saw where we placed in the contest, in the order of plays.  It has always been my assertion that the first play and the last play are always the best places to be, to win.  Most of the people that were appointed as judges, at regional and state level, had either seen or heard of your play performance. Looking at the listing of the order of plays, we knew this to be true.  ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone’, with Susan Myers and Daniel Hanning, was to be the very first play to perform at this contest.  I remember it’s even clear today, if your play was even a bit weak, you had no chance of getting to be first.  Among other things, being the first play you got to see every play you were competing against perform at the contest.  If they do in a credible advantage in the lane the likely results of the contest.  The only downside, it didn’t give you much time to get prepared once you’ve got to the contest. That was the case today.  Susan and I’d didn’t want to ride in a costumes all the way to the contest.  So, we had dressed in casual clothes on the ride up to the contest location.  When Susan and I got to the theater, for the contest that day, we arrived with 10 minutes before we were supposed to be onstage, ready to perform.  Well, it might have been 15 minutes, but no more than that I am sure.  The point is, Susan and I, we were first. We got excited we were first. Then we realized we were first! We had to run like hell to the dressing rooms.  People even the lock.  Do you believe in fate?  The believe in any oral good fortune at all in this world?

 

Going into that dressing room that afternoon Susan Myers and I felt as though the wind was at our back, and this would not be the last time we would perform this play. We quickly got into costume and makeup, then we headed to the auditorium to find our places.  As Susan, Truman and I are rushing through the hallways of a strange, but very beautiful and nice, high school we could hear the speaker, in the auditorium giving the introduction for the contest.  I remember we turned right, a couple of times and finally found large double doors These large double doors usually indicate you are going into a hall or auditorium, in high schools.  We had found our destination.  Truman opened the first double doors and it led to the auditorium itself.  We walked a little past those doors and we found a smaller single door. Truman open that one and walked through.  Within a minute he came back out then told us this was the stage entrance, and we went inside.

 

This stage, which I walked on to, was like no other stage I had seen to date in my life. There was a fly loft for curtains and flats to be pulled off stage, above the stage.  There are movable lighting racks, and all sorts of lighting instruments I had heard of, but I had never seen.  So…  This is what it looks like when the drama department has money, sweet.  I thought then, as I was about ready to grab our park bench and perform, what a shame it was we had this big fancy brand new stage to perform on and yet all that Susan and I were going to use was the apron.  Honestly, I thought those very words! I had that very thought as Susan and I stood up stage right, waiting to go and perform our show.  Here was this beautiful stage.  Due to form new lighting instruments, accommodations for many sets it wants, and more SP pages baseball footage that I’d ever seen before my life.  And all we were going to use was an 8 foot by 4 foot strip of stage in front of the curtain. Truman Susan and myself are all standing offstage at the district U.I.L drama contest overwhelmed a by the size of this stage and the theater.

 

Therefore any of us did he even do something as stupid as being afraid, it was time for us to hit the stage.  Truman set up the park bench and props and left the stage.  As they introduced the “Winners of District” contest participants from Pearland high school Susan Myers and Daniel Hanning doing ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone’.  He walked offstage and the lights dimmed in the house. Susan and I went on stage, in the dark, found our places waited three seconds, then the lightning struck that stage.  Remembering it now, I don’t think anybody in that audience took a breath for the first three minutes we were on stage that day.

 

That show, that’s crept, power performance was so tight that day even the applause seemed timed.  About halfway through the show my character steps to the very edge of the center the stage the apron and all addresses the audience and looks around.  At this Point I had already been performing about 9 to 10 minutes of this play, saw had been looking up of course looking at the audience as I performed.  However, right there at that point in the play when I was standing addressing the audience one on one I was all struck by just how many human beings were listening to every word I said.  It didn’t show in the delivery of my lines, it didn’t show in my demeanor or in any other fashion.  I was just overwhelmed by the number people I can actually make a laugh; we could make laugh, with those words.  The whole 22 minutes worked flawlessly.  Neither of us missed a line, or a beat, or a hand gesture, or even a nuance.

 

When the play was done, Susan I stood at the apron of the stage; hand-in-hand, side-by-side and arm-in-arm.  What we’ve heard was tremendous applause, what we saw was a standing ovation.  We must have bowed a half-dozen times, bowed to the left, bowed to the right, bowed center. The applause continued and the people stood.  After what was probably 3 minutes, but seemed like 5 to 7, the house lights turned on and the people stopped applauding and sat down.  As soon as we were offstage I turned to Susan and said these words;

 

“We’re going to win this, Susan”

 

I was never as certain about anything in my life, as I was that Susan and I would win this contest.  We watched the other four competing plays, that afternoon.  They were quite good; all in all they were well directed and well performed.  However, not one of those plays had the syncopation, depth of performance, or the social relevance of our play.  Susan Myers won best actress.  Daniel Hanning won best actor. Truman was not acknowledged in this contest, as he was in District. Our play placed third, and we did not proceeding to state.

 

That day, of that performance of that play, was one of the last two times I ever saw Susan Myers in my life.  Susan and I never performed again, and we didn’t have any classes together.  My sophomore, or junior, year of college I do remember going to a small theater in downtown Huston and watching her perform.  However, I have not heard from Susan sense.  That afternoon, the drive back to Pearland was very quiet.  Truman was very supportive, very appreciative and overflowing with compliments. However, Susan and I knew that something had happened. Something unseen, had taken place and we were shaken badly by this mystery. I lived with this mystery for the next thirty-plus years. I will not reveal, today, but late last year that mystery was finally solved.

 

 

End of Part Two ‘Sophomore Woes’

 

Thank you for your support.

 

Daniel's Moving Assistance Fund @ Indiegogo

 

 

Curiosity Update - The Mars Report - August 28, 2012

Welcome my friends, my contributors, my followers and my readers to the newest edition of ‘The Mars Report’ here at The Other Shoe.  We have here today a collection of four photographs from curiosity on Mars.  Our first picture is not the best to start was, but if you click on the image I think you will agree this is a spectacular image.  This is a 360° view around the rover Curiosity.

.

[caption id="attachment_115" align="aligncenter" width="300"] This is a composite image showing a 360 degree view around the rover Curiosity[/caption]

(Click on Image to See Enlarged View of Horizon)

.

Our next image today comes from the camera can OM.  This can camera uses a laser to literally smell rocks.  This ChemCam can discern the minerals with dinner rock from a great distance.  From what we’re being told, they can cam is going to get a lot of work on this mission.  In the shot we see a picture of the area the rock was in, and then a close-up of the rock that ChemCam smelled.

.

[caption id="attachment_120" align="aligncenter" width="300"] This is a image showing a 'target rock' in the distance. This rock is about to be struck with a high powered laser aboard Curiosity.[/caption]

.

This is a picture of the Head Mast from the rover Curiosity taken while it was here on earth.  You can see; the navigational cameras, the chemical camera, and 2 ports for laser sighting.  You will not often see this Head Mast in pictures from Mars.  This is because where most pictures are taken is the Head Mast.  However, NASA frequently takes pictures, from other cameras, to make sure there are no problems with the Head Mast.

.

[caption id="attachment_119" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Head Mast of the Curiosity Rover While on Earth[/caption]

.

Saving the most colorful photo for near last, here is a high definition color balanced shot of Mount Sharp.  This is one picture from a high definition composite made earlier last week.  This high definition picture shows in the area of Mount Sharp where Curiosity is set to ascend.  We will be seeing a lot more of Mount Sharp, in the coming weeks.

.

[caption id="attachment_118" align="aligncenter" width="300"] This is a High Definition Image of Mount Sharp showing the elevation Curiosity will climb, soon.[/caption]

(High Defenition Image of Mount Sharp-Curiosity's Next Destination)

.

Our last picture today is a fun image.  This is another composite image, but one over time not space.  This image shows the front left wheel of the chariot us achieve rover as it we cools in the dirt on Mars.  This series of pictures was taken to make sure that the rover wheel was operating property prior to the rover moving for the first time on Mars.

.

[caption id="attachment_116" align="aligncenter" width="300"] This is a composite shot, several iamges taken over time, to show the front left wheel assembly of Curiosity moving. Looks like Curiosity is trying to dance![/caption]

(Dancing Curiosity?)

Thank you for your generosity and support. 

http://www.indiegogo.com/DannyHanning

The Story of Daniel - Sohpomore Woes - Episode Seven - Part One

The Story of Daniel

Episode Seven - Part One

Sohpomore Woes

I remember the summer of my freshman year, clearly. I wanted to do ‘Summer Stock’ in the theatre with Doc and everyone else, but my mother had another idea for Danny, work. Not only were the Hanning Family Vacations gone for good, they were replaced with Danny working the whole summer. My freshman year has come to an end, and a new year was starting.  ‘Doc’ was not going to be as much a part of this year as the head of the years before.  'Doc' was getting on in years, he’s still held a speech class in the mornings, but had given the drama department to Truman.  Rather, the Schooled District had given the drama department to Truman, but…  The next show ‘Doc’ was giving to someone else. 

 

For the life of ease and your readers I don’t remember this guy’s name and that’s kind of funny. It’s funny because I worked with this guy every day in the theater on ‘Bye Bye Birdie’.  I saw him over at Doc’s house, every night I went over to visit Doc.  He was at the school was the period he was in my personal life.  Yet the life of me, today, I could not remember his name if you held a gun to my head.  I wonder…   Is this because he was such an inconsequential human being …  Or is this a home from the typewriter that dropped on my head.

 

First, and if anybody can tell me is aimed at putting a con man on the other shoe or on face book please.  Second in my humble opinion this gentleman just didn’t make an impression on Daniel.  I had performed well in ‘Sweet Charity’ for Truman and ‘Doc’. I auditioned for a role in the UIL contest for One Act Plays, in 1974, for Truman and ‘Doc’.  Again I got to work with Don Lockwood, she was just incredible on stage.  We did well, in the contest that year, better than the Drama department had it for several years before.  So when it came time for casting for ‘Bye Bye Birdie’, I expected to do well as far as being cast.

 

I don’t clearly remember the auditions for ‘Bye Bye Birdie’, not even as well as I do the auditions for sweet charity.  All I really do remember, is that I was not cast at all. L For this musical, I would be a technician? I was put in charge of the lighting crew, but not even a walk-on in the play.  Now don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with being in charge of the lights, I knew the lights and sound and quite well.  I had heard that this new director had wanted to put two spotlights, in the center of the theater, and he would need someone good to help them pull that off.  I was that good, but I really wanted to act in the musical. I had spent the last nine years in the school choirs, and was in the A Cappella choir at PHS, I just didn’t understand.

 

Looking back today, I understand why I was not cast.  I had been openly vocal about ‘Doc’ taping this guy to direct, what should have been, Truman’s first show at Pearland high school.  The smooth switch, from Doc Springfield’s tutelage to Truman taking over of the drama department, had hit a snag.  In addition, readers, I was not sold on ‘Bye Bye Birdie’.  I was involved, even my sophomore year, with the election of plays at Pearland high school. ‘Doc’ would ask me, during class, what shows I thought we should do and Truman would ask between classes.  I had floated a lot of ideas, my sophomore year.  Here’s a list of the shows I thought we should’ve done; Oklahoma, South Pacific, Westside Story or any major ‘Broadway’ play.  Just, please for the love of drama, not ‘Bye Bye Birdie’.

 

See, my dear readers, Truman had a vision for the drama department of Pearland high school. Truman’s vision was to perform comedy works with interpretive value.  Truman and I both thought that if we could do something lighthearted, but not musical, it would draw more men from Pearland.  The first musical, ‘Sweet Charity’ had good audiences. We thought that we would fill up a third to ½ theater for most performances.  Truman and I knew, with the right play, we could pack the auditorium at Pearland high school.  After many months discussion, during the summer of my freshman year, Truman I had landed on ‘Kaufman and Hart’ plays.

 

These plays, when they were on Broadway, were very popular with a broad demographic of people.  This broad appeal, combined with the lack of music, had the greatest potential for an increased audience in Peraland.  Truman and I both knew we were not going to pack that house with just women.  Someway, somehow, Truman I had to get the man of Pearland to come to our plays.  However, both of us being from Texas, we knew this would not be an easy chore, but if anybody could do it in Pearland it was Truman and I.  The last thing in the world, my high school drama department needed was a musical a based Elvis Presley.

 

However, Doc was emphatic.  This new guy, whose name I still cannot remember, was going to take Truman’s first shot at directing by himself.  If I  remember correctly, and correct me if I’m wrong, Truman was none too happy about this decision either.  See, Truman had been hired as the drama department director.  He had not as an English teacher, but as the director of the drama department at Pearland and high school.  Enough of that…

 

I didn’t agree with ‘Docs’ selection of director.  I’d didn’t agree with their selection of play.  Nevertheless, I was going to be a part of the production, and I was going to do the best I could for whatever production at Pearland high school. This new director wanted to do some revolutionary things, in this play. Revolutionary in that they had not been tried, before, @ PHS. Moreover, revolutionary in that many people were not sure this director could pull them off… them being; removing the spotlights from the lighting booth and putting them on plywood platforms in the audience! Another was building a huge mock-up of a telephone for one scene in the play, wanting to “have the Elvis character fly in one scene…” Yes that is what I was told early on in the production.

 

I told ‘Doc’ and this… this new director, then I wasn’t comfortable designing or building the platforms he wanted to put live spotlights in the middle of a sitting audience. These spotlights weigh hundreds of pounds, and the very center is a several thousand-degree arch of electricity that makes the light. It was kind of like sitting a tiny-tiny sun in the middle of an audience of people.   However, when push came to shove I did help build the platforms that put these huge spotlights out on. I want to say right here, the Pearland high school drama department, the people that came to that show, and the people of the Unified School District, were all very the lucky that year.  What if one of those spotlights had fallen off one of those platforms during the performance? There could have been a big fire, and a lot of people would’ve been hurt.  I told ‘Doc’ how I felt.  He trusted the door judgment of this new director.  I told Truman how I felt, Truman told me he was out of the decision process. I did what I was told, and took his plans and built his platforms for the spotlights.

Now, the production of ‘Bye Bye Birdie’ went on.  I did the best job I could with the lights there were on that stage at the time.  I had two helpers on my spotlights and those two young men and did an excellent job.  One of those young men, that helped me with that spotlight on ‘Bye Bye Birdie’, was Leo Gabriel III.  I had chance to catch up with Leo, recently during the power chair campaign.  Leo told me that working on ‘Bye Bye Birdie’ was some of the best fun he had, in school, in his entire life.  Leo said he’d learn a lot from being in the production, and that was the most fun he’d ever had learning.

 

When I heard that, from a now successful business owner in Pearland, I began to understand just how these productions touched the lives of other people.  Let me explain; see up to this point at Pearland high school I had just been an actor.  I had seen the looks on people’s faces as I performed, I understood what we actors did, in these productions, what we did getting our message to our audiences.  I understood the entertainment value, I understood the social impact, and others just came to ‘just have fun’.  What I have not understood, before, was the importance of everything that went on backstage and offstage.  Please don’t misunderstand; from the very moment I ever walked onto a stage, for a show, I understood that the person pulling the rope for the opening curtain and was just as important as the lead actor.  We all had a part in the play, a cog in the wheel as it were. If any of us missed our role, the whole production suffered. I had deep respect for every single person on that stage, be they an actor or support staff.  I understood, from my very first show, my very first performance ever, that a single line could turn into a cameo performance.

 

That, I’ve got to tell you, is the single most important aspect of theater and the theater process, for me. That is why the theater productions are, to this day, still very important to public school education. Leo told us; “The most fun I ever had, doing something at school” I am tell you, people that has power.  I will never forget the lighting crew of ‘Bye Bye Birdie’ at Pearland high school, in 1975.  What I didn’t know until this year was that I was not alone in my positive remembrances of these productions.

 

I have been sitting here, in my apartment in Cypress California, for the past hour trying to remember…  I am trying to remember the exact timing of the next few events.  If, per chance, I get them wrong please let me now and I will correct some.  Thank you.  As best I remember ‘Doc’ passed away shortly after the production of ‘Bye Bye Birdie’.  However, I just had this nagging thought that ‘Doc’ passed away at the end of the production right before the first night of performances.  If anybody reading this remembers, let me now.  Nevertheless, as I remember, ‘Doc’ passed away shortly after the last show of ‘Bye Bye Birdie’.  This is a big loss to the drama department.  Doc’s passing was a big loss to everyone in Pearland high school.  He touched lives throughout the entire choral department, the band department, the drama department and creative writing departments.  I can’t think of a single teacher, at Pearland high school, more people knew then ‘Doc’.

 

Later this week I’m going to present you with the story of Doc’s passing.  Right now though, I wm continuing with the best times of my sophomore year.  It was contest time, my dear readers. IT was time for the Universal Interscholastic League contests for; Band, Choir, and drama.  Last year ‘Doc’ had done ‘The Red Shoes’ with Don Lockwood myself and many others.  We won several awards, with that play and cast, and did very well to contests.  This year Truman got to pick the play, and direct the play, for Pearland’s drama entry into the U.I.L. contests.  I look back on it now and Truman really did play it safe.  Truman had decided that instead of picking a bigger production, instead of taking on controlling the talents of half a dozen or a dozen students.  Truman played it safe and Truman played it smart.  The show was ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’.  It was a One-act play by Louis E. Catron.  It was a beautiful little one-act play, about 20 minutes in length, with just two actors on stage and a bench.  Sigh.  At this point I had done musicals.  At this Point I had done a fun one-act play.  At this point I thought I had done theater, and I really did think I knew the power of theater, boy was I got to find out how wrong I was. J

I don’t mention the names of many people, in my stories.  I do it for a lot of reasons the most important to me is that I don’t want to offend anyone.  I don’t have contact, right now, with all the people, that were in my life at that time.  Therefore, I triedto mention names as little as possible, but right now I’d like to make a small exception.

 

The play was ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’ this setting was Pearland Texas and the year was 1975.  She person that most occupied my heart and mind for the next three months, Susan Myers.  Ever have one of those people, from your past, you don’t have much of a memory of them  before you started hanging out, and you don’t have much more memory of them after, but the memory you do have is incredible?  I don’t remember Susan being in ‘Bye Bye Birdie’.  She wasn’t in the cast of  ‘Red Shoes’ if she was I don’t remember.  However, when Truman cast Susan Myers opposite me in ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’ and he casts a show of a lifetime.  The play, ‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’ , is a play about innocence.  It is a play presented about the innocence of two young people in love.  In the larger sense, it is a play about the loss of innocence by America.  It is a play about the loss of innocence of our great nation. And, what that loss of innocence meant.

 

‘Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?’ was probably the single most intense performances I ever gave, at that point.  Three years later, in 1978, I would perform ‘The Zoo Story’ by Edward Albee, and that would end up being the penultimate acting experience of my career.  I had never acted before with Susan Myers.  The very first time she and I read the lines, it was just the three of us in the auditorium, the three of us realized… We had a heck of a show on our hands!  Susan and I took to the script very quickly, and very quickly we both realized the other was extremely serious about their art.  Dear readers, I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this before in your life, meeting someone else where they’d kept an almost unbelievable depth of principle and conviction to their art. What a blessing it is to work beside someone like Susan.

End of Part One – Episode Seven of ‘The Story of Daniel’

 

Be sure to come back Friday August 31, 2012 for Part Two!

 

Thank you for your kindness and support.

http://www.indiegogo.com/DannyHanning

Romney's Racism Outed by Chris Matthews

Today, on MSNBC’s ‘Morning Joe’ the host of ‘Hardball’, Chris Matthews, confronted RNC’s Chairman Reince Priebus with Romney’s statements and actions that Chris asserts is a predictor of Romney “playing the race card”. This was a terse exchange, and I think that Chris was taking this seriously and Reince was just laughing off the genuine concerns of a great many Americans.

From this morning's exchange; (Chris Matthews)- "

“I have to call you on this, Mr. chairman. you've been suggesting that somehow Obama's been running a negative campaign, Obama and your guy's been running a positive campaign. That's not accurate. In fact if they both stopped all the negative, I'm not sure who would win. But they're both negative. That cheap shot about "I don't have a problem with my birth certificate..." is awful. It is an embarrassment to your party to play that card. This getting rid of the work requirement for health and welfare. It is dishonest and you are playing that little ethnic card there. Can you play your games and giggle about it but the fact is your side is playing that card. You start talking about work requirements, you know what game you're playing and everybody knows what game you're playing. It's a 'race card'. If your name's Romney one you went to prep school, yeah, brag about it. This guy has an 'African name' and he has to live with it. who was born on third base? This absurdity! making fun of the guy's birth certificate issue when it was never a real issue except from the right wing.”

Below is the video of the exchange, feel free to comment below!

Chris Matthews COnfront RNC Chairman on Romney's Racism

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

The Terrible Truth is Told....

I just now posted this @ the Indiegogo campaign to raise money for me to move. I have been avoiding this.. making this statement for a week. I want ALL my readers to know I am going to do everything I can to keep writing and publishing. I.. will let my post speak...

Hi there, this is Daniel. I, first, would like to thank my single contributor. Thank you, Jason.

Next, I would like to tell anyone that might care, I am well and "rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated". (Mark Twain) I have been in a great deal of pain, as of late, and this has kept me from writing. As well, I discovered today, my ability to 'type' is... waning.

Each and every day that I try to write, I am having more difficulty and spending more time back spacing than writing. This has been a problem, with my left hand, for some time. However, I have had full function of my right hand (least sensitivity to heat and pain). Now, since Monday, I find that my use of BOTH hands is being affected by my condition.

This is not easy for me to talk about, it makes me face the progressive nature of my condition and it tosses my mortality in my face.

I simply must keep working, writing. This puts a BIG rock between what I NEED To DO... and WANT to DO... and what I actually CAN...do. This SUCKS. My neurologist warned me that this "MIGHT" start happening. He told me that slowly, using the use of my peripheral body, most extremities, due to the compression on my spinal cord. But, when he talked about it, I didn't really get the impression this would happen, like, any time soon! This SUCKS.

I am going to TRY to write, I REALLY AM... It is just...

Well, yesterday I posted an article... It had a lie in it... I didn't have a problem THINKING... I WANTED to write... I just, couldn't write, physically. I just couldn't do it, I just couldn't get my finger to work right.

Right now... right now, it is happening again. All the sudden, I cannot control my fingers. I have to stop... I am so sorry...

And that, is the proverbial 'that'. My condition has caught up with me. Like an animal in the wild, I have been trying to outpace my disease for months, but it has caught up with me. Even now, as I write these words, I struggle to make my fingers work... Again, I apologize and will work to write again, soon.

Thank you for your kindness ans support.

 

The Summer of Guns

The Summer of Guns

With today’s shooting, in New York City, this summer has seen deaths from violence clamor to new heights. Just last night, in the city of Chicago, there were 19 gun deaths. July 20^th saw a horrific gun slaughter in the quiet community of Aurora Colorado. August 5^th saw the gun murders of seven people in a Sikh temple in Oak Creek Wisconsin, and the two deaths today. Today, August 24, 2012, America has lost more than SEVEN DOZEN of its citizens to gun violence in just three months.

The United States has had the ‘Right to Bear Arms’ since our Republic began, and I am not here to question that right (today) or (today) advocate the repeal of said right. Today I am going to talk about guns, and gun deaths. For me, at least, it would be irresponsible to talk about this violent summer without talking about guns in America and gun deaths, in America. That is the great thing, about America and our Constitution, that is it s ‘Living Document’. The idea that our Constitution is a ‘Living Document’ has been furthered by greats such as; Oliver Wendell Holmes, Woodrow Wilson and SCOTUS Justice John Marshall.

America, and Americans, owns 275 million guns, or the 875 million known firearms (this was from ‘The Small Arms Survey 2007 by the Geneva-based Graduate Institute of International Studies’). There are seven billion people on this planet, and America has 310 million. We make up 1/20 of the population but posses 1/3 of all the firearms on the planet. (This figure based on ‘personal firearms’ and military and law enforcement guns are not counted). [found here:http://www.reuters.com/article/2007/08/28/us-world-firearms-idUSL2834893820070828]

Americans hold one-in-three personal firearms and yet only one-in-twenty people on the planet live in America this is an untenable situation. IT is no wonder that America leads the planet in gun violence. We lead; Somalia, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel the entire Middle East. Honestly, when I started this article I was concerned. How could I make my case if America was not the most gun violent country on the planet? I worried needlessly.

“So what, we own the most guns of any nation on the planet.”

That is a viable, if not simplistic, viewpoint. These guns do not exist in isolation. Americans own them, and right now it is obvious that America is a little hostile, right now. There is political hostility and anger and social/racial hostility growing in our nation. Hate crimes, in America, have risen by 50% in just the past two years, and the deaths show no sign of abating. This; racial, political anger has begun to combine with the number of guns in our great nation. You have the red-hot fire of prejudice and racism flowing through he veins of gun owning Americans. Yet, somehow, we expect a different result? This isn’t rocket science, people. This is simple reasoning, that I am sure we all posses. There are millions of Americans whose hearts are, for whatever reason, filled with racial hatred, and most of them are armed. [http://www.splcenter.org/get-informed/hate-map]

Right now, this day, in America there will be (a projected amount of) Eighty-One gun deaths in America. Eighty-one Americans struck down, today, due to gun violence. In just one year 31,000 Americans loose their lives to gun violence. One in one thousand Americans die each year due to gun violence. One in one thousand is worse (better) odds than getting AIDS at its height! America did something about AIDS…

Then, if the cost of human life just doesn’t seem to break through, how about the cost to our society in dollars? Will that get you?

In America, each and every year, gun violence costs our nation $100 billion dollars. Now, that is just the cost of the violence. The cost of loss of life, loss of productivity, the human costs well, they cannot be calculated. If I had to put a number on that, it would be in the billions of dollars each and every year. Billions of dollars of personal and property loss each and every year, due to gun violence, and yet we no longer have an ‘Assault Weapons Ban’ because the N.R.A. spends tens of million of dollars on Republican campaigns each and every year. However, it hasn’t always been this way.

In 1977 a fringe group (sound familiar?) within the NRA held a hostile takeover of the National Rifle Association. Before that hostile takeover, the NRA actually WORKED WITH THE US GOVERNMENT to write gun legislation. They worked to monitor their members, being (Then) a responsible group more interested in guns for recreation than guns for gun violence and political gain. That all died in a torrid and ugly convention of the NRA in 1977. The NRA that worked with; President, Congressmen, Senators to write sensible gun legislation now believes that there is no such thing as ‘sensible gun legislation’. They have their ardent members all ginned up that any gun laws are “bad gun laws”. They are the organization behind the delusional conspiracies of the Clinton administration about “black helicopters coming in the dark of night to steal your guns.” ROFLMAO Honest, do they even understand how expensive it is to run one of those helicopters? [http://www.splcenter.org/get-informed/intelligence-report/browse-all-issues/2012/spring/active-patriot-groups-in-the-united-states]

Now, we (America) have a chance. A chance to have a healthy and reasoned debate about the place for guns in our lives and in our society, he have tried one. We have tried the whole; let anyone that can carry a gun have one! It is the wish of our Founding Fathers! Drivel, the Founding Fathers put the Second Amendment in the Constitution because of the Revolutionary War. Drop Washington, Franklin, or Adams into today. Show them, our Founding Fathers, the scenes of gun violence of just the past three months. Do that and I am certain that they would share a different opinion. It is time to talk about guns, again, America.

It is time, now, to start the conversation. Not rhetoric. Not partisan. Not hyperbole. How about facts? There are 90 guns, in America, for every 100 citizens. 31,000 Americans DIE each year because of gun violence. IT costs our nation billions of dollars is damage and lost revenues. Moreover, most important, this will spill over and start killing our children. Why wait? Let us start acting now, to improve gun laws, limit if not stop assault weapon sales, limit or stop the sale of ‘banana clips’  and ammunition that  can not be used in hunting.

We can make America a safer place to live, for our posterity and ourselves. Join me.

We Are Better Than This - Stop Gun Violence

Thank you for your generosity and support.

http://www.indiegogo.com/DannyHanning

Video - 'Two Tales' Special Episode 'The Story of Daniel'

This is the video of Daniel (ME) reading the newest episode, ‘Two Tales’. This is a complete departure from the previous one hundred pages. This episode gives us some ‘back-story’ of the Hanning family. More specifically it is a story of my paternal grandfather and my mother.

The first, is the story of my paternal grandfather, Oscar. Thank you for coming by, and sharing.

.

.

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.

http://www.indiegogo.com/DannyHanning

Two Tales - The Story of Daniel - Special Episode

These are two stories that I wrote  some time ago. They were part of an article I wrote back in 2010. When thinking of 'The Story of Daniel' I wanted to tell the stories everyone would like and relate with well. However, I wanted to tell the whole story about Daniel. I wanted to share events and history that some people, most, would never have heard.

These are two of those stories. I heard both, from my mother. One when I was very young, and she retold it often (the one about the little Native American girl. The other one, the one about my father, I asked him about and he confirmed that what I had been told was true. He indicated that there was “more to the story…´ but he passed away before I ever heard his additions. I am considering a couple more, stories from the past.

If these stories are well received, and nobody is upset or bothered by my telling, I will consider sharing even more of these 'histories' of the Hanning Family. I hope that you enjoy reading them and if you find mistakes… Please leave me a comment. I went over these two stories, but I am very tired of late.

As always, Thank you for your kindness and support.

The First

A young Irish lad, who had just arrived in New York via Ellis Island, was working hard to learn  to speak American. HE was very happy with coming to America, and becoming an American. It was 1929 and opportunity abounded, in the city of New York, for young men willing to work hard. Irish immigration had seen it's difficulties, but most of that prejudice was a part of a past he had not personally witnessed. Life was good for Oscar Hanning, and all that was lacking, in his new life, was a wife and a family of his own.

One spring day Oscar meets a vibrant and educated young woman from Germany. She was not like the lasses that he had meet so far. Her name was Betty Schulemberg, and Oscar planned on asking for her hand in marriage. This is when Oscar's wonderful life in his new home took a turn. A turn that would change his life in unimaginable ways. You see Betty was from a Jewish family, from Germany, and Oscar had been raised, as Irish boys are, Catholic.

In the months that passed, prior to their marriage, Oscar found himself without work and shunned by his family and friends. Evicted by his landlord and frequently harassed and beaten by people he once knew as friends. Betty's life had taken a similar route. Even though Oscar had agreed to, and begun, a conversion to Judaism Betty's parents were steadfast against marriage to an 'outsider'. They insisted that no Irish convert to Judaism could be a good husband for her, or Father for her children. Her Father forbade her from marrying Oscar Hanning, and her mother begged Betty to find a 'nice Jewish boy' from the neighborhood to marry and make her Father happy.

This was paradoxical, because Oscar (through his studies) was actually finding his new faith fit  him. As a boy certain aspects of his Catholic faith always confused him and created conflict. However, the Jewish people came from a long and tortured past, but managed to keep a loving and nurturing home and family. He had found great wisdom and strength in what he learned in his studies of Judaism. Oscar was moved by the story of Abraham and Isaac; the birth of the Jewish people and Hebrew nation, and asked Betty to tell it to him again and again.

Oscar took to wearing his Yarmulke to worship and back. This proved to be a worse idea than Oscar had ever imagined. It was to be dark night for Oscar. He was walking home, from Temple. As thoughts of worship shifted to thoughts of a more corporal nature, his head became lost in thoughts of getting home and sitting down to the dinner Betty was (most likely) making for him this very moment. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in the back of his head and he found himself on his knees grabbing the back of his, now sore, head. His vision was undoubling when he heard a familiar voice;

“Hey, Ooscor, whatcha doin wearing that sissy hat?”

Followed by another even more familiar voice, that of his cousin;

“Yeah, Ooscor, whatcha doin with that Kike hat on your head? Don'tcha know, lill brother, that's a sure way of getting your ass kicked?”

Oscar went to stand up, and 'explain' things to his cousin. He never got the chance. That night two men that Oscar; had been born and raised around, crossed the Atlantic Ocean to chase a dream with, and had loved as much as any good Irish son should, beat Oscar Hanning to within an inch of his life and dumped him on his door step for his wife Betty. For her to find the next time she stepped outside to check on Oscar. Oscar never wore his Yarmulke, to or from worship again, but it didn't matter. This may have been the first beating Oscar survived, at the hands of close friends and family, but it wasn't the last.

How long ago, it seemed, when their lives were without conflict, but also without love. After six months of Oscar and Betty trying hard to make their relationship work, with their families and friends, they decided things must change. Six months of Betty fighting with her Father and holding her Mother's hand as she cried at the thought of loosing her only daughter to a 'Bad Marriage'.Six months of sparse work for Oscar and regular beatings for his betrayal of his Catholic faith. Oscar and Betty moved to Columbus, Ohio. To start life over, and raise their family. They had one son, Kenneth Urban Hanning. Father of Kenneth R. Hanning, Darrell K. Hanning and Daniel L. Hanning.

For the next thirteen years Oscar worked hard to fit into the world his love had guided him to, but even after moving to Columbus his pain and suffering did not stop. Being Irish but of Jewish faith, he seemed to never completely fit in to either world. Yes the Rabbi and the congregation accepted him as one of their own, but he never found his way to acceptance among the Temple's Elders. His love had brought him to a faith that separated him from his family, his identity, and his past. The only place that he felt truly at home? Was when he was with Betty and his new son Ken.

The only place he could find work was making moonshine in tubs in the basement of his home to sell. This new line of work did not mix well with his alcoholism. And soon his marriage, and his relationship with his young son, were lost in the battle. A battle that started with loving a woman of a different faith and ended in a shattered family and dashed dreams.

The Second

The year is 1904. The location is little know place just outside Las Cruces, New Mexico. Known as the Mescalero Apache Reservation. The still, of the turn-of-the-century night, is broken by screams. These are not screams of fright or fear. They are the screams that come with the birth of new life... and the ending of another. On this night a female child is born. Her name is Margaret Nora Gary. Her mother is an Apache Native American (born to the tribe's newest Chief). Her father is a Dutch immigrant brick layer. But all is not as it should be, this night. Shortly after giving birth to a beautiful and glowing baby girl. Her mother, and the daughter of the Apache nation, dies. Leaving Margaret without her mother, and her father without his wife and love. For the rest of his life he can not look upon Margaret without seeing his now dead bride. This taints their relationship for life.

Margie (as she has become known) finds herself a child of two different, and warring, worlds. Being raised by her paternal Grandmother, Margaret is not allowed to visit the reservation (just outside of town) where she was born.  She longs to know of her mother, and her mother's people. To know them, she understands, is to better know herself. Her father is away with work, much of the time, and she is left in the care of her elderly grandmother. Margie is raised as a 'White' girl. She is told not to speak of her real mother, or where she was born. She is made to wear frilly patterned dresses, but she longs to wear clothes like the girls she sees from the reservation. She listens to the jazz and big bands on the radio, but longs to hear the drums and songs of her people.

She, also, quickly learns of the 'White Peoples'  hatred and distrust of the Apache. Margie sees how the Apache people are treated by shopkeepers. How they are not allowed in many stores, and watched and monitored in those they are allowed to shop. Humiliated and spat on in the streets and thought of, by most white Americans, as 'drunken redskins' or 'horse stealing Indians'. At a very young age Margie understands how important it is for her to keep her little secret. People in her town think of her as a white woman, and Margie knows it is best to keep it that way. Still, she deeply longs to know of her mother, her other family.

Then Margie learns, in school (white man's school), of the massacre of her people. The loss of their native lands. As she reads of each victory for the White man, she recoils in pain and confusion. There is no one in her life, but her elderly grandmother, to ask about what she is learning in school. Her grandmother tells her that;

“Them Injuns deserved to die, they were all savages. Didn't believe in God and the Lord Jesus Christ! Best you give it no never-mind.”

This does not satisfy Margie's curiosity about herself, or her people's past. She knows where she might be able to get the other side of the story though, the reservation!

Being the willful and clever girl she is, Margaret eventually finds her way free to explore the reservation. When she is twelve years old is when she first ventures on the the reservation where she was born. It was a day that she remembered as clear as if it had happened yesterday, when she told me of it when I was eight. Her Dad was away on one of his many masonry projects, in North Texas. Grandma had a little too much to drink, after lunch. That would be the time that Margie could make good her escape. She had been waiting for this opportunity for as long as she could remember. She had been given a bike, for last year's birthday. She got on it and pointed in the direction of the reservation. She had put on one of her best dresses, combed her hair neatly and even used her fathers shoe buff to clean her Sunday shoes. Margie wanted to look her best when she meet her Mother's people. for the first time.

It took Margie more than two hours to ride out to the reservation. She passed long stretches of road with nothing on the horizon for miles, just cactus and sand. It was an hour or so before dusk, when Margie reached the edge of the reservation. She was confused, there was just a sign (and a rusty half standing wire fence) that tells you that you are leaving the United States of America and are entering the Apache Nation Reservation. Why were there no guard posts or soldiers posted here? From what she had read, and been told, these were very dangerous heathen people. As she processed this thought, she found herself inside the reservation.

Shock, that is what Margie felt when she rode into the reservation. Her mouth feel open, and her peddling slowed to a stop. Never before, in her life, had she imagined what she saw before her. Yes, there were  people in colorful native clothing, but they were of poor quality and not well maintained. As well, there were shanty houses instead of the beautiful wigwams she had imagined. There was sewage running down the side of the streets and the smell was making her sick to her stomach. Just as her stomach began to toss and turn. She noticed several of the ‘less savory’ people on the street were approaching her. It was Native Americans wearing dirty and worn 'white peoples' clothes.

She starts to back up, on her bike, when she hears mumbling in Apache. Suddenly her regress is halted; someone has come up behind her and stopped her bike. She looks over her shoulder to see a very tall, very thin, very old Indian with brilliant eyes and beautifully adored hair. She was making note of his clothing, native and with many symbols and markings on it, when two things happened. First, she felt the warm and firm embrace of the large hands of the Indian behind her. The second was the dirt clod that smashed into her freshly cleaned and ironed dress.

“Half-Breed! We know what you are, Margaret!”

This yell had come from one of the Indians blocking her way forward. There is more shouting, from those in front of her. Most of it in Apache, and she does not understand what is being said, but she is certain that it is not nice. More clods of mud and dirt strike her, as the crowd in front of her grows closer. Fear and confusion are flowing over her in waves, she falters on her bike, begins to cry when she hears a deep and fluid voice speak behind her.

It is the man that holds her, and she cannot understand his words but she can tell his is reproachful to the Indians in front of her. There are more screams of “half-breed” and yelling in native tongue, when suddenly she feels she is being lifted up,bike and all.

“It is time for you to go, my Little Sparrow. My heart is filled with joy at seeing you, and sadness for what you see and hear today.”

It is the voice of the large Indian behind her, he has lifted her around and back down the road facing out of town. He is very strong, but very gentle. He smells of leather, fresh air, and campfires. Nothing like the Indians she has passed in town, there is something haunting her in this smell. The large Indian has set her safely on the road, as dirt clods and garbage strike his back. Carefully he leans over to her ear, still shielding her for the angry Indians, and he whispers in her ear:

“It is time for you to go, my Little Sparrow.” He says again.

“Do not judge your people by the actions of these few haters, Little Sparrow. There is love for you among your people, just not here... and not now.”

The people that had been in front of her are now right behind the old Indian, and fear begins to grip her again. She feels the Indian gently push her bike down the road, and hears the Indian say;

“Now fly Little Sparrow, fly! Peddle your bike quickly, and go home.”

Margie peddled her bike as quick as her legs could, faster than she had ever peddled before flying down the dirt road. Behind her she hears yelling and arguing, and above it all the deep voice of the Indian that just saved her from a fate she dare not imagine.

 

End Tale Two

That brings us to the end of today’s ‘Special Episode’. I am recording the video, of me reading this episode, as you are reading. I will get it through post and published just as quickly as my upload and download speeds permit. I hope that I will have the video up and ready by the end of the day. 

Thank you for your kindness and support.

http://www.indiegogo.com/DanielHanning

Video - 'The Story of Daniel' Episode Six 'Daniel the Freshman' Conclusion - The Finale!

This is the video recording of Daniel (Me) reading the Finale of 'Daniel the Freshman'. This brings us to the end of 'Daniel the Freshman' and leaves us to open a new episode this Wednesday August 22, 2012. As always, 'The Story of Daniel' continues!

Be sure to check back, often!

.

.

Thank you, for your kindness and support.

.

http://www.indiegogo.com/DanielHanning

‘The Story of Daniel’ Episode Six – Conclusion ‘Daniel the Freshman’ Finale

‘The Story of Daniel’

Episode Six – Conclusion

‘Daniel the Freshman’

Finale

I slept surprising well, the night before our Opening Night for ‘Sweet Charity’. I awoke, in the morning, feeling refreshed and ready for the day and the performance. I breezed through classes, and in-between classes the day seemed charged with invisible energy. I didn’t work, that day, so when I was finished with classes I went right over to the theater. I could check lights and maybe get some instruction on the make-up.

When I arrived, at the theater, Truman was there but no one else had arrived. I asked Truman about the make-up, and he walked me back to the boy’s dressing room. When he brought out the make-up he began apologizing. Not really to me, but more just in general;

“I found out, today, that all we have is grease paint make-up.”

He took out a tube that looked like a toothpaste tube on steroids. He took the top off, rubbed some on his hand and held it by my face.

“Well, you are not playing an Indian, tonight, so that is too dark!” 

Followed by Truman’s deep trademark laugh.

“Let me get another.”

 He dug around in, what appeared to be a fishing tackle box, and pulled out another steroid drugged tube. He squeezed some out on the other hand, and rubbed some on the other side of my face. I, so far, sat silent and apprehensive.

        “That looks much better, turn around and look. What do you think?”  Truman asks.

I turn towards the mirror, look at both cheeks, and say;

        “The last one matches better, but I just don’t like the idea of wearing make-up, Truman. Is it something I have to do?”

Truman laughed under his breath, signs and says;

        “Only if you want to be seen, Daniel.” …and continues

“That theater is a barn. If you don’t project, they will never hear you. If you don’t wear make-up, they will never see your face. You will have a flat face, and nobody will be able to see you act.”

Hum, OK, I hadn’t thought about it that way. I very much wanted everyone in the theater to see me, that is like the whole point… of acting… being seen!

“OK” I said. “I hadn’t really thought about it, like that, before.” Then, for some odd reason, I opened up to Truman and told him something I had never told a teacher or anyone outside my family.

        “I mean, I get picked on enough, I just don’t want to get beat up for wearing make-up.”

 There was a noticeable ‘catch’ in Truman’s breathing, yes he had heard me and understood. He just looked at me, with those huge deep eyes and said;

        “Anyone that picks on you, or makes fun of you, for wearing make-up in a play is just stupid. Ignore them.”

He was right, I had heard similar from my father. Seems bullies just don’t mind being “stupid”.

Shortly after the last bell, everyone started showing up. There was great hustle and bustle, back stage, and there was an energy forming in that theater. As the afternoon wore into evening and curtain time drew closer, that energy became palatable. I wasn’t the only one that felt it, either. You could see the energy in most everyone’s eyes, and heard it in their voices. A mixture of anxiousness and glee that, I soon discovered, was intoxicating.

As people filed into the theater, I was taught some new lessons. First, never look out at the audience and be seen! That was poor form. Second, you never wish an actor before a performance “Good Luck”, it is “Good Show” or “Break-A-Leg”. Good luck resulted in bad luck. Last, and most important, be quite. When you are off stage (during a performance) you don’t make a sound. No talking, no “horse play”, this was serious business.

“Five minutes!’” We hear Truman say, back stage.

No one responds. Actually, for a second, I think everyone froze. Wherever we were, what ever we were doing, we froze. We were five minutes from the start of a show we had all worked on for months. We were in make-up (surprisingly, to some of us), in costume, we knew our lines, we knew our blocking and we knew our ques. This was no dress rehearsal; people had actually paid to see us perform. I wasn’t nervous, but my heart was sure getting loud in my chest.

I stepped outside the theater and into the hallway by the band hall. Just then Truman walked by, with the cast following him quietly.

        “Follow us, Daniel.”  Truman said, as he passed me. He had a smile on his face, that could have lit up the city of New York it was so bright. There was a bounce in his step, a smile on his face, and a power in his heart that (not known to me, yet) he was about to share with all of us. The entire cast was now in the band hall, and we were forming a circle holding hands. There was that darned electricity, again, it was thick with us all in the band hall. I swear I could feel my hair standing on end, like in a lightning storm. The rumbling of Truman’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

“We only have a couple of moments, but I wanted to call you all in here and share something with you.”

We were all feeling it, and small conversations broke out around the circle. Then Truman began, again;

        “There is a tradition I learned, in theater. A tradition that teaches us that, tonight, we are unique. Tonight we are the best at this play in the entire world. We are unique in that no one else on the planet can do this play the way we do. And that uniqueness gives us magic. There is magic, in the theater. And the theater is magic.”

 

OK If there is a single person, in that room right then, that didn’t have goose bumps, and I would very much be surprised! We were all smiling so big, and so hard. I remember, going home later that night, my checks were so very sore. We stood in that circle, now, and repeated after Truman.

        “There is magic, in the theater. And, the theater is magic!”

If we had all started lifting off the ground, at that moment, I honestly don’t think anyone would have been surprised. We, all, felt it now and a lot of us felt light headed. I know I did. We stopped chanting and threw our arms up together in one final “Magic!” Then, we orderly and quietly moved back into the theater and took our places.

        “One minute, everyone, ONE MINUTE!”  Truman’s voice rumbled backstage, yet not loud enough to be heard by the audience now being seated.

While everyone else was filing back into the theater, I ran as fast as I could to the water fountain by the choir room. I drank deep and long, I as 16 and I wasn’t about to have my voice break on my first line of my high school acting career. The water, well it didn’t want to stay. I dashed into the Boy’s bathroom. Urinal. Out.

As I am running (literally running from the glass double doors to the stage door downstage right of the theater) past the band hall, I hear the opening threads of the show! I have about, ten seconds to get in place, or I am going to miss my very first performance que! I pass the last doors into the theater, I can hear the orchestra clearly now, and whip a right into the doors of the backstage entrance.

I am so lucky, two people are standing at the doors holding them open talking. Now, they weren’t supposed to be doing that, but I was very happy. I darted into the double doors, jumped up the stairs onto the stage. Now, I move briskly but quietly into place downstage right, where the apron meets the curtain. As I step into place, I hear it.

My que! Dawn is arguing with the man she is with, and she gets pushed into a (fake) lake. I jump out onto a bench onstage and say;

“There’s a girl down in the lake, I think she is drowning”

 I turn out towards the audience, as I point into the orchestra pit, and I hear the audience laughing. Laughing loudly… Laughing loudly for a long time, and no one is speaking. Everything starts slowing down, now, in my memory and in that moment. The theater is cold, just like ‘Docs’ classroom, it is cold in the theater and it is cold on stage.

Suddenly, I feel… a breeze. Yeah, let’s say a breeze. I feel coolness where, it shouldn’t be. I feel a breeze and my pants are getting cold. I look down. Now, remember, this is my very first line in front of a paying audience.

And I look down, at my fly. And, my fly. Is down. I don’t panic, that’s the rule. So, I look back up, at the audience. I look down at my fly, and I pull it up. I look back up, at the audience, and give them a sheepish grin and shrug my shoulders. Then I turn, back upstage, to the student with the next line. Not missing a beat, budump-bump.

He didn’t have a chance, the boy with the next line, because the audience came unglued. I just stood there, looking upstage left, holding my breath. They laughed so hard, and for so long, and we all just stood there and waited. Dawn was in the pit, and she was smiling at me… really smiling. The boy, on stage, who had the next line was just standing there, smiling. And the audience laughed and clapped.

Shortly, it died down, and the play went on. As soon as the curtain went down on that scene, I was mobbed back stage. I had created quite a stir, going on stage with my fly down and then pulling it up in front of the audience. I was, now, the ‘Bad Boy’ of the play. The attention died quickly; as each person was called on to perform. That night, a hand full of people changed. They touched another reality, one they helped create. The show went without a single hitch, beyond my ‘Wardrobe Malfunction’.

That night, there were ‘Notes’. We didn’t often get ‘Notes’ after a performance, but tonight we were getting notes. I was sweating bullets. I mean, really, I walked out on stage with my fly down. Would I even have a role in the play, after tonight?

We gathered on the apron and the first two rows of seats. A lot of people were pointing at me, and laughing. I would have been embarrassed, but it was just too funny to me. Truman and Doc came down, and sat in the first row.

The first comments were from Doc, for Dawn, something about staging for getting out of the pit in act one. Then Truman had some notes, for people not projecting well enough. There was snickering at each pause, and these two guys just kept looking at me and laughing. Then it was time for Truman’s notes.

“Daniel, in act one scene one, you had a problem with your fly?”

It was like someone uncorked a juvenile genie and the laughter just came pouring out. Now everyone is laughing and going

“Way to go, Daniel!”

I look over, and see that Doc and Truman are laughing, too. I am not bothered; don’t get me wrong, strangely I am not that embarrassed. The laughter is dying down, when Truman speaks.

“Doc and I agreed, keep it. Keep the bit with the zipper.”

 

The cast just breaks into uproarious laughter and kudos. I get slapped on the back enumerable times, and that night, my very first performance? Is a cameo performance. Then Doc spoke to me;

“I remember I told you to speak up and make an impression. I guess that Daniel is listening to my notes.”

Another wave of laughter passes over the cast. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders, and I could feel from the cast, too. I don’t think anyone in the cast wanted me to get into trouble, for my wardrobe problem, they just wanted to laugh about it and share in some of the fun. I am relieved by how Truman and Doc reacted. Honestly, I’m not really surprised, it was a mistake, right?

I had ‘Doc’ ask me that very question, later that year. I’ll tell you what I told Doc. “I’m not saying, I don’t want to get into trouble.” Doc laughed.

This brings us to the end of this episode ‘Daniel the Freshman’.

 

Be sure to come back on Wednesday for the next Episode of ‘The Story of Daniel’.

 

Thank you, for your kindness and support.  

http://www.indiegogo.com/DanielHanning

VIDEO - 'The Story of Daniel' - Episode Six - Conclusion - Part One

Welcome back, my friends, to my story that never ends.

This episode is the lead up to ‘Opening Night’ for the play ‘Sweet Charity’. Daniel’s life becomes more complicated, but he has joined a new family. The days are long, but the rewards are many. Come and join Daniel, as he prepares for his very first performance of his life!

So, here is Daniel reading ‘The Story of Daniel’ - Episode Six, Conclusion – Part One

‘Daniel the Freshman’.

.

.

Thank you, for your kindness and support.

http://www.indiegogo.com/DanielHanning

'The Story of Daniel' Episode Six 'Daniel the Freshman' Conclusion - First Half

The Story of Daniel'

Episode Six

'Daniel the Freshman'

Conclusion - First Half

.

When last we met Daniel was leaving the audition for ‘Sweet Charity’. It was late at night, most likely 10:30PM-11:00PM. I was a freshman, so I didn’t drive quite yet. I didn’t really know anyone from the drama department or the last year’s cast. Therefore, I (Danny) hoofed it home, once again. It was a long walk, even when it wasn’t so late at night, but being as tired as I was this was one of the longest walks ever.

I remember when I had made it past the tracks, how relieved I felt that I was half way home. That night, the walk from the high school to Frances street out by Mykawa road and West Broadway, was a long one. By the time I came up to my neighborhood, the ‘walking on air’ was long gone, and the reality of having to get up in just five hours was hitting home. Little did I know that this late night walk would soon become a regular event.

When I finally got home, my mother had left for work. I unlocked the front door, and did a ‘zombie shuffle’ into my bedroom. I took off the now soaked with sweat clothes, set my alarm for 5AM and fell into bed. I remember, as I feel into a deep sleep, fragments of a dream. A dream of me being in a play, in this play I was on the apron of the stage, downstage right, and all the audience was laughing at me! Then I fell into a much-needed sleep.

After that night, my days now became divided between; a full schedule at PHS, a 36-40 work week at Ron’s Krispy Fired Chicken, rehearsals for plays after work and a long and sweaty walk home, around midnight. That was my routine, for the next three years. Only in my senior year, did I finally cut back my schedule @ Ron’s and have a couple of nights a week off from work. Till my senior year my life was; getting up at 5AM, walking to school for my 7:30AM class, classes until 2:30PM (or 12:30PM my Junior and Senior years), off to work at Ron’s as soon as I left work, I would put in six to eight hours at Ron’s and then off to rehearsals. It kept me out of trouble, and very busy.

The rehearsals for ‘Sweet Charity’ took me away from everything that I didn’t like about my life, and my days. The rehearsals took me away from the drudgery, and to a different place. They took me to a place of hope and understanding, and among people that didn’t judge. Most everyone there was there for one reason, and one reason only, to entertain his or her friends and family in Pearland. I don’t know of a single person, which was on that stage, as a step headed to a sound stage in Hollywood.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, we all had dreams. At least, at that point, I felt that the dreams were all grounded in reality. This first show was really a different experience. Not just for me, for the entire cast. About one-quarter of the cast werenew to the school plays and acting. The other three-quarters were familiar with how to ‘put on’ a school play and acting, but were learning what it was to have Truman Dunahoo as the ‘Assistant Director’. Since ‘Doc’ feel asleep early and often, Truman actually did all the directing, staging and after-rehearsal notes. Hang on, that is not fair, I remember ‘Doc’ often giving notes. He gave me notes about my lines in the first scene. Matter of fact (and this might only be relatable to actors) ‘Doc’ gave me my very first note. “Louder! Much more excited! You have only one line to make an impression, make us remember you!” You might want to remember that note for later in this story.

So, an evening on the set of ‘Sweet Charity’ started with Truman’s vocal exercises, followed by some movement exercises, and concluded with diction exercises. After our warm-up we would either run the show from the beginning (my favorite rehearsals, since I was in the opening scene) or Truman would have a list of scenes that he wanted to run and would dismiss everyone else. However, even when most of the cast was dismissed, I never went home.

Truman had found out about my experiences with; running the projector during the summers and my education (by my father) in electronics and electricity. Truman quickly put me to work on the stage lights. When I wasn’t acting, I was on the top of an aluminum scaffold fixing lights and putting colored gels on them. I had/have a real fear of heights, and let me tell you that fear is not negated when you are just ten feet above a wooden stage.

However, each and every time, I would just climb that scaffolding, get up to the top, and work on the lights.

The lights had been the very first item on the list of parts of the stage to be rehabilitated. The impression I got, from Truman, was that the stage, lights, and flats and costumes had not been properly maintained, in the past several years. This would leave the stagehands (me, and several other people with smaller parts that wanted more involvement in the play) with a very big list of work items to be completed before opening night.

The set flats were in far too bad a shape to be used, I remember Truman telling me one night. We would have to build all new sets, but not for this show. Our current production, being a musical, we could take liberties and not have the large sets, which would come with later productions.

This takes me to the very first weekend set party. It wasn’t really a party, Truman just figured more people would show-up if he called it a ‘party’. It was on a Saturday afternoon, so I took the morning shift at Ron’s and finally made it to the ‘party’ around 2PM. I don’t know if anyone else has this memory of Truman, but I remember (that day, and many set parties that followed) that he had a knack for organizing people and getting everyone working. If you didn’t have a tool in your hands, Truman knew and he would soon find you and put you to work.

It was an essential skill, which Truman had, for the PHS theater department at that time. Because, Truman was shortly proven right, about the sets and later the make-up and costumes, our stores had not been maintained and often ravaged and depleted. People had been taking advantage of ‘Docs’ declining health and mental awareness and borrowing, without permission, and not returning. It took a lot of work, and time, but we all managed to get all the materials we needed to pull off the production.

I, eventually, ended up with; the walk-on role in the first act scene one, a non-speaking role of a guy picking up a girl right before the dance scene in the brothel, two or three chorus parts and I was in a couple of group scenes. In between I would help with pulling curtains and running props. I had managed to find a way to keep myself very busy when I was not on stage. That is one thing I have never been able to do, when not performing, just hang around and do nothing. I just can’t do it. For me, it has to do with rhythm. A play, like a piece of music for singing or instruments, has a rhythm, a beat. For me, plays have a rhythm, too.

If I was not doing something back stage, or performing on stage, I felt I would loose the rhythm of the play. Luckily, I was good at keeping busy off stage, and after ‘Sweet Charity’ and ‘Bye-Bye Birdie’ I would never have to worry about not being on stage. I remember the rhythm of ‘Sweet Charity’ to be very fast and steady. Bump, bump, bump, bump one right on the heals of the one before. Once the first lines were delivered (one of them being mine), I stayed right with that rhythm till the closing curtain. I had never felt anything like that before in my life.

This driving, yet unheard, rhythm. Well, you heard the rhythm when the pit orchestra played.  Oh, please let me side track, for just a moment. High school musicals are a very good idea. I didn’t know many people from the band. Being in choir and theater, well choral people stick together. Seems the same is true for band members, they stick together. This is not entirely a ‘Bad Thing’, nor is it unexpected. However, when we performed ‘Sweet Charity’ we used a pit orchestra made up of members of the band.

The orchestra was right there with us, towards the end, every rehearsal. We would miss ques, and drop lines or mess up, and the band would have to start over with us. Band members would, miss ques, drop notes or mess up and we would have to start over with them. They heard Truman give us notes and corrections, and we would hear them get notes and corrections. Very shortly the members of that pit orchestra and the members of the theater department gained a respect for each other. I got to know some band members, and some band members got to know the actors, singers and dancers.That is what is really god about high school musicals.

Groups of students, with similar interests, getting to work together and overcome division and gain respect instead of make fun. From that point on, I never used the term “Band Geek” again. I know, I got off topic, but it seemed important to relay. Between my ramblings writing and my adlib reading these ‘episodes’, they are going to end up being short novels.

We were rehearsing with the band, so if you are guessing that it is getting close to ‘Opening Night’. You would be correct. J Everything was built, and being used on stage. All my lights were working, and gelled. All I needed was a bit of luck and for no lights to burn out before opening night. Most of us were wearing ‘street clothes’ that looked ‘period’ as costumes. Dawn had several dresses made for her costumes, as did some of the other girls in the parlor.

I distinctly remember walking home, our last rehearsal before the ‘'Opening Night', thinking about putting on stage make-up. For some reason, that was my one personal hang up, make-up. I mean, it is 1974 in Pearland, Texas. Guys just did not wear make-up and I had enough problems getting bullied. The last thing I needed was to be in front of the whole school in make-up! Shortly after I deliver my very first line of my acting career, the whole make-up issue would disappear. Just to be replaced by a much greater fear. ... ... ...

. To Be Continued... Tomorrow!