I live in my grandmother’s house. My grandfather built the house next door to me in the late ’50s. They had two lots of land and one house. She didn’t like the house. It was too big, so he built another house next door.
This is going to sound cheesy, but in the summertime the trees on each side of my street kind of make a big archway on my street. It’s really beautiful.
You’ve got to go to East Coast Custard.They say it’s like Euclid Beach — I’m not old enough to remember Euclid Beach. It’s not soft serve but it’s not ice cream; it’s frozen custard. It’s delicious, it’s wonderful, you have to go.
Cassidy is a great theater. They did the first nonprofessional production of Cats, and we rented the Broadway costumes. It wasn’t like we had little ears on and whiskers, it was a big deal. It was five-hour dance rehearsals every day. I got to play Grizabella; she’s the cat that sings the “Memory” song. It was a fantastic role.
Being involved in the Cassidy is important to me because it’s my town. I represent the theater.
I always thought that being onstage translates well into any profession where you have to present yourself publicly. You know how to put away your personal stuff or how to mask what your true emotions are. But acting, there’s a genuine side to it. If you believe your characters and believe their intent, there’s integrity to it.
My grandfather used to take me to a ballfield at the end of my street. The street would go and watch the ballgame. It wasn’t just the parents of the people playing ball. We would get popcorn at the concession stand, and the old guys on the street would yell at the ump that he didn’t know what he was doing.
