Movember, Day 19 -- Men's Social Health

Men's Social Health

Wait...what?!?  Social Health?  Men don't need to think about this.  We just do it.  And it takes the following forms:

• Drinking modest amounts of alcohol and watching sports
• Drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, telling our wives (or the police officer) that we only had modest amounts, and watching sports
• Drinking enough alcohol to prevent us from lying about the amount, and watching women
• Watching (or coaching) our kids in sports (and drinking alcohol afterwards)

As boys, our social networks revolve around our neighborhood, our school and extra-curricular activities. As adults, precisely the same thing happens, but it is done existentially through our kids.  Because children have an innate need to go in a direction 180 degrees from the one suggested by their parents, this often takes us on a path we have not traveled on our own.  (Having daughters does the same, but that's a whole other 10,000 word rant waiting to happen on another day).

I had an introspective moment last night, thanks to Debbie Kirsch.  The history of that relationship begs for its own post, but that's a level of typing that's liable to rub my fingerprints off entirely.  I'll hold on that broad topic about one of my favorite all-time broads until I need to crack a safe.

Debbie Kirsch was the President and resident Director of Hexagon Players of Mendham.  Sadly, she passed away at a very young age in September.  She was the singular force driving Hexagon for the last 15 years and no one could replace her.  I don't mean that in the "kind to the departed" sense.  I mean that literally.  She was:

• an experienced performer, so she knew how to spot, develop and manage talent.  
• childless, but loved them, so she built a rapport (hell, a relationship) with about 300 of them (no exaggerating).
• a senior marketing person with AT&T, so she had a strong commercial sense that allowed her to manage and promote a charitable organization.
• employed by a boss who supported her extra-curricular activities.
• a giant pain-in-the-ass who could get people, including strangers, to do things for her (or, more accurately, the company).

When Debbie passed away, many of us thought that Hexagon would as well.  She had a large support cast, but she set and drove the agenda.  Her dying wish, however, was that the company would continue.  In lieu of flowers, the family even asked people to make donations to Hex (it's a 501c3 -- I know, because my wife is the person who incorporated them!  And now, a shameless plug (because there is no longer a shameless link):

Beyond my involvement (and Donna's producing, choreographing, doing publicity or tickets -- no performing...sorry...only enough room in 5 Hope Farm Lane for one giant ham), our daughters have performed in over a dozen Hex shows between them.  

So here we are, sitting in a room in Mendham trying to find a path forward.  Cathy Malmstrom (a long time member of Hex and friend of Deb's) gave a history of the company at the behest of its founder, Les Fredericks.  It gave us all a chance to reflect on the amount of time and number of relationships directly related to this small community theater company. And it occurred to me that it happened to my family accidentally.  Kate El-Kadi's daughter, Tara, was in a show -- Oliver! -- in 2001.  Hexagon needed male performers, so Kate called and said "you're new to the area...we know you have trouble making friends because...well...you know...so why don't you audition?"  I did, got an ensemble part and, when another cast member had to drop out, played a last-minute Mr. Bumble**.  

In the "way forward" meeting last night, the room was filled with people that we consider our friends.  Some are closer than others, of course, but we have had meals with all of them; all have been to our house (at least for a cast party or two); and we are happy every time we see them.  Almost none of them would be in our lives were it not for the existence of Hexagon; Kate's experience with my anti-social behavior; and that PIA-In-The-Sky, Debbie.

But this happened accidentally.  Surely, if I had not auditioned for Oliver! in 2001, some other local activities would have filled our time.  But unlikely to have been community theater (Hexagon is Mendham's only option).  Deidre has such a lovely singing voice that she certainly would have been a musician regardless, but would she be a stage performer?  Alaina wouldn't without Deidre's example.

More importantly, this is an arts and education activity in our community.  Hexagon has done summer teaching programs.  Debbie directed five Mendham Township Middle School shows (she was such an important part of that community that the Principle used the emergency notification auto-dial system to let every family in the school know when she passed so the parents would be prepared to talk to their children...I got chills typing that).  Our floats in Fourth of July and Labor Day parades won awards.  A surprisingly large number of kids who are Hex Veterans went on to Broadway and national touring companies.  And our first-hand experience with this was accidental.

The defining moment in our Mendham community experience was around the show Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.  Debbie directed a free show in the Mendham Borough Park on a Friday night.  We estimate we drew around 600 people.  It was a great cast (I was the Pharoah who, if you know the show, was a thinly disguised Fat Elvis...now it makes sense, right?), a beautiful summer night and a very grateful local audience.  When Saturday night rolled around, we were in jeopardy of losing our only other performance (after two months of rehearsals) to a thunder storm.  As soon as the electrical activity started, the owner of the rolling stage and sound system shut us down as he couldn't risk losing his expensive gear.  We were about to lose a great opportunity, when Debbie had a brainstorm (trust me: inside that gray matter was a permanent, cataclysmic weather event like that 25,000 mile wide storm on Jupiter).  She got permission to move the show to Grace Lutheran Church.  We had no sets or lighting available.  Cast members got neighbors who were planning to watch the show to help carry costumes and props and walk them to the church (which is almost a mile away!)  There was no sound system, so I took another neighbor in my car, sped home and got some gear from the basement.  We set up a bunch of chairs, got the PA set up, loaded the CD with the music and fired away the performance.  The thunderstorm raged outside and the audience perspired inside.  During the emotional ballad "Close Every Door", Debbie shut the ceiling lights so we were completely in the dark.  One of the audience members pulled out a pocket flashlight and shone it on Joseph's face while he sang.  It was one of the most amazing things I've ever witnessed -- truly the "community" part of community theater coming out.

And our participation in this was all accidental (my personal qualifications to play Fat Elvis aside).  

So my Movember thought in the context of Movembering Hexagon forward is that we should actively manage our Social (and Community) Health.  Many of you already do this.  Most of the rest have plenty happening through your neighbors or kids.  But all of us should consider if we're doing enough...and value what these activities do for us.

Movember On!

**--In an odd twist, my last show with Hexagon was in 2012, around the time of Sandy, and it was Oliver! as Mr. Bumble.