I've seen Phil perform numerous times, sometimes from the closest vantage point possible: onstage. My view is better onstage, but the performance is better the further from it I get. Actually, that's not true. He's always great. The play is better the further I get it from it. To all of my fellow attendees last night, you're welcome. I've also seen him "perform" offstage, and he's just as sharp, witty, and talented over a glass of wine or bottle of beer as he is onstage. His own material, improvised or rehearsed, is worthy of a stage. He's received several awards for his appearances in more than 60 productions, and I haven't seen nearly enough of them. It's a shame, too. Most of them have been right here in Huntsville, but they may as well have been in Beirut.

The stage is a special place if you have that rare gift. It's a special place for Phil, and his wife Kim. They met through Calhoun theater. They were married in the theater where they performed so many times. Their wedding was staged as a play. I was there. I ran sound. That might have been the last time I actually saw one of their productions live until last night. Kim directed that event as well as last night's play. Among the highest complements I can pay any director is that her efforts seemed invisible. Everything just "worked." That doesn't happen by accident. Someone plots these things out beforehand. The cast executed her plan and Rudnick's script wonderfully.

I'd forgotten how intoxicating this magic can be. There really is nothing like seeing live theater. The institution of theater, and my life, are grateful that the relationships I made lasted longer than my career as an aspiring thespian.