Final Curtain

The news must already be spreading around my hometown like wildfire. The Crown Uptown Dinner Theatre is closing. Long live the Crown.

Thirty-two years ago, the late Ted Morris and his gracious wife Karen opened a dinner theatre in Wichita, Kansas. To my knowledge, not a week has gone by during those three decades without dinner and a show being served at Hillside and Douglas Avenues.

Hundreds? Thousands, perhaps? Actors, directors, designers, technicians - artists who have found work at the Crown, I mean, and who now must gig elsewhere. If you're in "the biz," I don't have to tell you what a very large loss it will be to the creative community in Wichita. If you're a normal person, however, just take my word for it: this is sad, folks.

My first show at the Crown was in 1979, when I played Igor in "Cactus Flower." Early in the run, I stepped on a nail backstage and wound up hospitalized at St. Francis for two days with a foot infection. Troy and Jack came to see me, a gesture above and beyond their call of duty that garnered them the eternal gratitude of a young and starry-eyed actor, but the details of that visit shall not be repeated here. Let's just say they brought me one unforgettable gift hidden inside another, neither of which are discussed in polite company.

During the ensuing decades my life took twisty-turny detours, and I didn't return to the Crown until the 1990s. From then on, I was hired once or twice a year on average, and each time I'd make the long drive home for a two to three-month stint. Each show meant more new friends, more adventures, more memories. More extra paychecks.

My last Crown show was "Fiddler on the Roof" in 2008, my second try as the Rabbi at the same theatre. During "Fiddler" I met Andrea, Meg, Harmony, Rob, Michael...creative and good-hearted people all, and I do believe they will be a part of my life forever. Show-biz people are flawed creatures just like the rest of humanity, but by and large we do one thing very well.

We love. We love creatively and passionately, yet imperfectly and at times rashly, but we can never be justly accused of living on the sidelines. We invest our intestines into every show and every relationship. We are the most fully alive people on God's green earth! We soar to the moon on opening night and we bid fond farewells every closing.

Then we pack up and move on, richer and wiser for the creative and passionate souls we've met.

I have had the good fortune of working and living with so many remarkable and usually loveable performers at the Crown over the years. For that - and for the extra paychecks - I say thanks for the memories, Crown Uptown.