Well, as long as I have it all to myself, and I spent the last two days reading through the Oscar posts (much more entertaining, I am sure, than actually watching the telecast), and I have finally--pant, pant, pant--caught up, I might as well start rambling...
TOD:
Ramble One: When I first began teaching, I would always be terribly nervous the first day of any class. It would begin with the traditional "pedagogical nightmare": can't find the classroom, can't find the building, lecturing to the wrong class on the wrong subject--common nightmares among educators.
Then I would shake with fear until about half-way through class. After that, no problem for the rest of the semester. Once I had been teaching for about ten years, the nervousness abated, although I do have the occasional pedagogical nightmare the night before a semester starts.
Ramble Two: When I was in the BMI Musical Theatre Workshop (was it really thirty years ago? FJL, ask Skip if it was really thirty years ago!), I would get "butterflies in the stomach" on days when my work was being performed. Even though it was always my composer who actually performed, never me. I just had to sit there and turn beet red (a talent my face used to have at all the wrong times, but which rarely happens any more) while the composer played and sang and Lehman tore our work limb from limb.
Then one day, when I believe Herb Kaplan was going to do two of our songs, I got to the city a couple of hours early, and I headed down to Wall Street to a certain "special interest" location for "special interest" activities. For over an hour.
I got to workshop, Herb sang our songs, a discussion ensued, Lehman made some of his usual pointed and witty criticism, and I remained calm as a sleepy gazelle in a poppy field.
I found that the same strategy worked on future occasions, too.
