Tragedy struck my little community this week. The father of my daughter's friend and classmate was gunned down in cold blood on the UCLA campus. It's been devastating to us. He was a kind and brilliant man. A family man. A world class mind, who also coached little league. If you were to try to create a sympathetic figure in a movie, Bill Klug would be what you would hope to cast.
I have been crying off and on for the last 24 hours. I didn't know him very well. We would chat, usually on Thursdays when he had the chance to pick up the kids from school. They were always so excited to see him. I know his wife and kids much better, as I see them every day. This family went out of their way for me earlier this year when I was laid up with injury. They took my daughter to and from school. They brought us food, because that's what good neighbors do for somebody who's sick. He was one that could actually (and accurately) be described as a pillar of our community.
And he was shot and killed by a psychopath.
And I was supposed to have rehearsal tonight. (Thankfully it was canceled). I was supposed to hop into the skin of Iago tonight. But there was no way that I could. For the first time in my life, being onstage was an impossibility. The stage has always been my safe haven. I used to compare myself to Mike Tyson, who could only function within his square. Outside the ring, his life was a mess.
About 15 years ago, my mom went in for a small procedure. "Nothing to worry about." Well, it turned out that they took one of her lungs and she had cancer. That night I had to perform Macbeth. I learned of the cancer about an hour before curtain. I was a mess. But, luckily I had the talented and wonderful Renee O'Connor as my Lady M. She grabbed me onstage and brought me into the moment. Physically and emotionally. I was able to enter the safe space of the stage and escape the horror of my mom's cancer for those 2 hours. I drove out there after the show and was there when she woke up in the hospital. I was strong for her. I sat with her and chatted when she woke up and then read when she fell back to sleep.
I'd like to think that if I had a performance tonight instead of a rehearsal, that I'd be able to answer the bell. But my job as and actor is to not judge Iago. To justify his murders. To play a charming, caring, con man. But as I read accounts of Bill's murder, I am sickened. This psychopath who killed him invented all sorts of reasons too. I judge him tonight. I can't play him tonight.
I don't have much more to say right now.
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