I’ve always been a bit strange. I’m the first to admit it and I know lots of folks who’d back me up on that. You have to be in order to get up in front of people and bring them to tears or make a complete fool of yourself. Acting is a very schizophrenic art form, but what more perfect excuse can anyone have? In my theatrical career I’ve gotten to: commit murder, be murdered, be drop-dead drunk, be lightly squiffed, run a whore house, play a nun, various lesbians, several Queens, witches, bitches (more often than not), a pirate, a bag lady, an FBI agent, an inmate in an asylum, historical figures, wear a 300lb fat suit, wear negligees, wear a straightjacket, incite riots, commit suicide, kiss a wide variety of men-not to mention slapping a few and spitting on a couple others, mother a whole lot of great kids (and a few that were pains), be English, German, Russian, southern, play women, play men, play women playing men, play wives, sweethearts, divorcees, an alien, speak forwards (mostly) and backwards (once), chloroform a rabbit (thank goodness acting is pretending!), work with cats, dogs and a goat, not to mention some of the best actors and nicest people anyone could hope to know in one lifetime. I love what I do. I hope I get to do it for a long time to come. As schizophrenic as this business is-I don’t have a clue who I’d be without it.