The Boys Next Door

My cold has hung on in my throat more tenaciously than our baby schnauzer does to her bone. It may have something to do with the fact that I've been working every day re-shingling a roof in the cold. So today, I'm not working. At least I'm not working outside. I still have lots to do that has been neglected because of the roof. My National Registry exam for EMT is next week; I am behind on my articles for Christian Press; and I have to arrange to go to Texas next month to attend a film festival.

Meanwhile, my cold defies all reason and cough drops.

Looking to the future, I just got cast in a role that shocked even me. We're putting on The Boys Next Door. It's a two act play about four men with mental disabilities living together, and the man who looks after them. I thought I might play the care giver Jack or the schizophrenic Barry but I got neither. Instead, I play what the script describes as a "large black man." I am a man, but I am neither large nor black in any sense of the words.

Nevertheless, the character is incredibly likable and profound. I've never played a man who has the mental capacity "somewhere between that of a five year old, and an oyster." It's going to be demanding and extremely difficult. I will have to visit and spend time with some people who are like the character in order to be as real as possible.

This show isn't just about the mentally handicapped or even people with any kind of handicaps. It's about them and all who are misunderstood and ignored. I see it as a defense of the widows and orphans of the Bible, the unborn babies and the Terri Schiavos of the world.