Act One - Cue Baby

The Kennedy Center, last Saturday night. Cue the lights at the Family Theater. A young man in an untucked dress shirt and jeans sits at on a stool on an empty stage. His name is Josh Lefkowitz, and he writes and performs monologues about life, love, poetry, and other such things.

This show is called Now What? and Josh is giving us a sneak preview before his world premiere next month. Taking a draw of water from the glass next to him, he refills the glass from the pitcher, sets them both on the tabe next to the stool, and begins his monologue.

He is talking about the relationship between his life and his writing and how, because his writing and performing is autobiographical in nature, he is often confronted with the tension between living in the moment and chronicling life events for use as "material." His monologue goes something like this: "As I gaze into Annika's eyes, eating the slize of pizza, feeling that things were Perfect, a voice is whispering in the back of my head, over and over, and it's saying... "

"BWAAAAAAAH!" screams the Baboo. Yes, my Baboo. My Baboo who had been silent all day.

But of course Josh's inner voice was not saying BWAAAAAAH. It was saying "Maybe you should write about this." Which makes alot more sense, if you think about it.

Josh Lefkowitz took a bow and playfully(?) said "Good night, thank you for coming!" and pretended(?) to exit the stage. Muslim Dad, who had the Baboo strapped to his chest in a Baby Bjorn really did exit, and walked around outside the theater for the remainder of the show. In the Baboo's defense, it was his first monologue.

When I was pregnant, several moms mentioned to me that I should go see a movie or two because it would be my last visit to the movies for many months if not years. Why didn't I realize this advice applied to all the performing arts? A lesson not soon forgotten.