Actors are only given 100 to a 150 word bio in our Playbill, so I asked the actors to tell me a little bit about themselves that wouldn’t be found in their bio. Here is what they said:
From Susan Wands, Mary Ellis in The Best of Enemies:
Most of the time in Manhattan, I am very far removed from nature and the beauty of the seasons outside the city. Driving up the Taconic to come to the Barrington Stage to perform in The Best of Enemies by Mark St. Germain, I was reminded how beautiful this part of the country is and how lucky I am to be in this terrific play and in this part of the country. Most of the time, I get around the city by subway or on our Vespa, which we bought for our 12th wedding anniversary. I was the one who suggested buying the Vespa for our wedding anniversary gift. After hearing my suggestion, my husband said “Who Are You?”, as he didn’t expect me to come up with that sort of gift. But getting around Manhattan has always been an adventure, and I thought rather than a string of pearls that only I use, we would have more fun with a Vespa, which we have since named “Pearl”.
However, I didn’t quite think through all the ramifications of getting a Vespa, one of which was that I would have to get a motorcycle license. That meant going to driving school in Manhattan and taking my final driving test out in the suburbs, a test I did not pass on the first go around. I planted my foot back on the ground when I was doing my “figure eights” around cones, an event not covered in the DMV manual. Flunking the test meant I had to practice my figure eights for several more weeks, going down to the end of my block to a small cul de sac, going round and round late at night when there was no traffic. There was a woman doorman who would come out of the luxury Trump building overlooking the Hudson where she was doormanning and from time to time she would coach me as I circled my imaginary cones. “Slower, Lady, Slower”, she would yell but most of the time she told me I needed more balance, a phrase I think of often.
Learning to drive in traffic in the city could be quite nerve wracking, I remember going up the incline of 10th Ave and all these cabs honking at me and on my tail as I tried to shift and gather enough speed to make it up the hill and through all the green lights. Nothing like having your husband sitting behind you on the Vespa, trying to placate angry cabbies by yelling “She’s just trying to learn how to drive here!” Then there was the police patrol car who pulled me over when I made a solo wobbly left turn across West End Ave; they needed to see my learning permit. The permit that states you’re not to be driving by yourself while you learn to drive. That permit was in the glove compartment of Pearl and I didn’t know where the latch was to open it. I offered to call my husband on my cell phone to find out but they said they didn’t want to get me in trouble with my husband and let me off with a warning and a directive to find out how to open the glove compartment. When I finally passed my motor cycle license test, I brought my woman doorman coach a bottle of champagne and I’m happy to report that the next time the policemen pulled me over was not to cite me but to congratulate me as I opened the glove compartment for them.