In preparation for my replacement, about which I continued to pressure Sam, I decided that creating some kind of primer that would explain the elements of the position might be helpful to whomever was going to take over. I wrote an “Introduction” describing how I came to the job, (it was actually through a lot of casual conversations with Sam in his car as he drove me home from Rainbow performances – he was the pit drummer) and how, over a great many years, it had evolved. Setting that down was the easy part. But trying to describe a typical day was impossible because there were no typical days. There were things that had to get done of course, but nothing was routine. I ended up dividing this task into big topics – “Conceptualization” (something Sam was very big on), “The Process”, “The Payrolls”, “The Database”, “Visas” – and then, in a narrative form, I started to break down what each of those topics entailed.

            Oh my God! Thinking about the job was one thing. Writing it down in progressive detail was something else altogether. Trying to explain Sam’s need for “conceptualization” before approaching the “Process” was the first of a great many hurdles. I knew that Sam always had the “big picture” in mind, and over those many car conversations he explained how the details (in theory) presented themselves and how we (he) would respond to them. It was more philosophy than pragmatism and while it established our level of communication, it did nothing to tell me how to do the job. “You’ll figure it out”, he would say, and, to my surprise, I did. But knowing about that foundation between him and me was useless in writing a clear approach to the practicalities. The devil was in the details and those devils led me down some complicated and pretty boring paths. Try though I might, using a chatty format as if this trainee and I were having the kind of conversations Sam and I had didn’t work. It would have to be a point-by-point “do this” approach and that was another hard thing to deal with because everything affected everything else. In my head it worked, but not on paper. I laboured over an outline for weeks, structuring it logically before adding the simplest, clearest, most precise instructions for each of the subtopics in each big topic. It ended up being Five Chapters over 40 pages and represented, as I later realized, the ground zero of my life as it had come to be over the past 19 years! I kept reviewing and revising for the months prior to a two-week “try-out” of the candidate Sam had placed at the top of the Short List, a lady named DeAnn Boise.

            In the meantime, I had managed to get Mom settled into her wonderful new digs in Victoria. Each visit left me chomping at the bit to move there myself. But I was still in payroll or budget mode as “Chitty”, “Chicago” and “Cats” Tours were on the road and a number of regional productions were running or in rehearsal. Not to leave well enough alone, I also found myself working on another “Primer”, this one for our local reps and contractors (and the new “me”) who worked for us in various cities throughout North America and who needed to know how our process worked for them at their sites. That task was a bit easier if only because all the hiring and contracting was done by our office and all they had to do was provide scheduling and personnel updates when and if they happened, hand out the cheques, and keep us in the loop about any problems. Organization! That was the key to everything. By just keeping it organized, they should be able to manage it.

            We headed into “Pride and Prejudice” rehearsals for MTC in early October with a mostly Winnipeg cast. I was playing the very minor role of ‘Sir William Lucas’, a character who pops up in a few crowd scenes, makes a few Austen-languaged observations, and otherwise has very little to do … except when it came to the dances! Ah, those dances! In my halcyon days, I used to cut a fine figure with any choreography handed me. I could pick up choreography very quickly and execute pretty much anything required, solo or ensemble. In fact, I’d even choreographed several shows myself during my time in Portland. But, alas, those days were long gone, and that vocabulary had abandoned my physical memory, leaving me struggling to keep up with what was, at one time, pretty basic stuff. And there were nine dance sequences, five of which required my participation! Our choreographer was Jan Alexander-Smith, one of our cast members and an exceedingly pleasant lady … when she wasn’t choreographing. Teaching very precise and complicated Georgian Era dances to a group of unruly castmates turned her, from time to time, into our own personal “Dance Nazi”. I couldn’t blame her for getting pissed off with us because we were bad children when in those rehearsals … and there were a lot of them. There was a military precision to the dance patterns and her rehearsals demanded absolute focus, which some of us sorely lacked. I felt that my character, a bit of a flake, wouldn’t have all the steps correct anyway and I used that as my feeble excuse when I screwed up the choreography. Our messing up would only result in more dance rehearsals being added to the schedule. I don’t think we (I) ever got those dances completely correct.

            Our Director, Robbie (Paterson), was the essence of clarity in his approach to the material. I had worked with Robbie countless times. He always knew the script and subtexts backward and forward and had done his homework to a T. But he would tell me about there being a touch of fear under the surface. I couldn’t see it. He astonished me with how relaxed he was when he spoke, without hesitation or ambivalence about the characters and their relationships, about the background and style, always and unquestionably on top of things. And this show was no exception. I was impressed with him for being so calm, consistently and graciously in charge of what could have been a complicated process. It was to be our last collaboration.

            The cast was a dream – Torontonian Matthew Edison as ‘Darcy’, Mairi Babb as ‘Elizabeth’, David Warburton and Marina Stephanson Kerr as ‘Ma and Pa Bennet’, Carson Nattrass, Jan Skene and Stefani Wiens, the last three of whom became my nightly Scrabble partners as we were all off stage for very long periods of time. While I could feel the production was good, our Scrabble tournaments tended to remove us somewhat from how the show was actually taking shape. It was during the Previews for the Young Audiences that we got an idea how it was going over out front. These usually unruly kids were eating it up! The piece is rather high-falutin’ with rather stilted language and very little “action”, but they stayed with it, kept still and laughed uproariously in all the right places – a nice change from the raucous, penny-throwing kids in the past. The entire run was smooth, drama free and a great pleasure to perform. And I won a few Scrabble games.

            DeAnn Boise finally arrived to check out The Job. We’d had a long relationship with her as a Production Manager and Company Manager on a great many U.S. Touring productions we’d contracted for Troika Entertainment. Her most notable quality was that nothing, nothing, ever phased her. She was aways calm, very empathetic and never out-of-sorts no matter what the problem or crisis was. I loved calling her about something if only to hear her cheery voice and to gain yet another insight into how to deal with a concern. This was the first time I’d met her face-to-face and we hit it off right from the start. She was incredibly astute, understanding the structure and intricacies of the job immediately, and took great pleasure in how I had organized the description of the job. “It’s all so clear”, she would say over and over again. We’d spend a few hours each day going over details and all the variations, and there was nothing she hadn’t dealt with in some form or other as a Production Manager. She met the ladies in our office and got along with them right away. There was only one thing she had to get her head around and that was moving to Winnipeg. DeAnn lived in Las Vegas and while the weather during her Manitoba visit in early November wasn’t all that bad (for us), it was still a jolt for her. There was no doubt that she could do the job, but it would take her a while to consider the implications of moving to another country and another kind of job. In all honesty, I didn’t hold out a lot of hope.

            It was apparent now that word was getting out about my leaving Winnipeg. I’d not been vocal about it but it’s a relatively small community and things have a way of circulating. So when Kevin Prokosh from The Free Press called and asked for an interview I knew the jig was up. We spoke for a half hour. I had always been slightly wary of Kevin. I had to keep in mind that he was a reporter and would be on the lookout for a “scoop” or tidbit that was newsworthy. He’d gotten me into trouble before by leading me into saying things I shouldn’t have, but this time, we were both relaxed and chatted about the past 18 years and my feelings about “having made a mark” in the city and about leaving. I was of two minds about what he would end up writing, but I just held my breath and hoped for the best. It ended up being a nice article.

            It was at this point that my “Little Shop of Horrors” casting plans began to crumble. While Ken had made all the approaches we’d talked about, folks started to fall by the wayside for various reasons, and I ended up re-casting most of the show. All the potential ‘Mushniks’ bailed, and we finally ended up with Frank Ruffo who would do very nicely, I thought. Peter Huck “couldn’t make it work” so we went with Simon Miron as ‘Orin’, a great singer and a bit more menacing than Peter was, and Kevin Aichele replaced Nick Atkinson as the voice of ‘Audry II’. It was still shaky ground in some other categories, but I just kept harping on Ken to make it happen. The set designs were how I wanted them, but we were now waiting on floor plans. Costumes needed to be confirmed, either made or rented, but until the casting was complete that detail would stay in a holding pattern. I kept telling myself to be patient, but with everything else that was going on, in particular Mom, I was getting anxious.

            As if all that wasn’t enough, Morgan was diagnosed with a luxating patella! He’d been lethargic and not the spritely pup he used to be. He was now six. He’d balk at going up stairs and no longer jumped up on the recliner to sit with me. I’d taken him to the vet a couple of times and the only suggestion was to put him on Metacam or children’s aspirin. That didn’t sound quite right to me, so it was off to another vet, this time, to be told within two minutes of the new doctor’s exam that the problem was with his right hind leg’s knee cap (patella) and that it should be attended to immediately! She suggested a surgeon and I made an appointment right away. The diagnosis was confirmed by the surgeon and by the following Monday, my baby went under the knife! I got him back the following day. When he was carried into the waiting room, he went nuts upon seeing me and started whimpering.  When I took him in my arms he started to “cry” as he licked my face and hands. It broke my heart. The weeks that followed were complicated with all the medication for the pain, the physio I had to do with him daily and the required love and attention, something he continued to cash in on even after the pain had subsided.

            It was just part of what was quickly becoming a new kind of life for me … the rapidly diminishing theatre action that had driven me for so many years, Mom’s condition in Victoria, a sick dog, getting the house ready for sale, sussing out moving companies, preparing for a massive garage sale … all what I imagined to be more a “regular person’s” kind of existence. It also became apparent that my involvement with “Beauty and the Beast” at Rainbow that summer (2009) wasn’t going to happen. My move was scheduled for early June, and I had planned returning to Winnipeg for the show. But leaving Mom alone for two months was becoming less viable. It was tough to let it go.

            Just before escaping to Hawaii for a couple of weeks to recoup, I found a live-in companion for Mom, a real estate agent and a former nurse named Sharone. They had become friends through The Union Club which Mom had joined just after moving to Victoria. I learned that Sharone needed some interim housing before moving into a new apartment, so it seemed a perfect match. She was exceedingly attentive and provided “reports” every few days which put my mind at ease about that situation.

            While away, I got the expected but disappointing news that DeAnn had decided not to take over my job with MSI. Winnipeg is no Las Vegas, to say the least, but I think it had more to do with the fact that this was an office job, and wouldn’t put her in the thick of the show action she was used to. She would have been so perfect. Never one to let the grass grow under his feet, Sam had made contact with a lady named Cindy Hutchinson who had worked for him at St. John’s Music and also had worked in the Winnipeg Symphony offices for a time. So just after I got back, she began the “training” with me. I knew it was overwhelming for her, but I could see a certain mindset in her approach to the job – focused, fearless and very smart. She’d worked with musicians so knew how to deal with them (a big bonus) and caught on to most of the process quickly. She was honest about feeling somewhat out of her depth and got uneasy about how she was going to learn “all this stuff”. I told her that I would still be around for a few months so the transition would be gradual. The fact that we could work together on things that were actually happening in the moment was a bonus – putting together budgets, hiring musicians and creating payrolls “for real” was the best way to learn the ropes. Time would tell.

            Then, things turned on a dime! Out of the blue, a few days before I was to head out to see Mom over a weekend, she called to tell me that she didn’t want to live in the golf course townhouse anymore … it was too “up Island”, as she called it! What? Whaa-at?? Turns out she wanted to be “in town” and to that end, she and Sharone had been out looking at places, and had found side-by-side condos Mom thought “would be perfect” for her and me. Oh! My! God! When would this end? Needless to say, my visit was chaotic. I arrived in my rental car at the address she’d given me, and they were waiting for me at at the front door. It was right across from Beacon Hill Park on Douglas and was magnificent in every way. It was five blocks from the Inner Harbour and two blocks from Mile Zero and the ocean! The apartments were beautiful, and I started to get rather excited about a) the Park environment and proximity to shops and such and b) being right next door to Mom. We walked about the area a little, had some ice cream at the Beacon Hill Drive-In in the next block and, within two days, decided to take both places. Monday found us back at the bank and, after juggling some funds with Ji, our Advisor, the deal was set in motion with some financials still to be confirmed, mainly on the sale of my place.

            I returned to Winnipeg, stressed and out-of-sorts. I hate disorganization and upheaval and now Morgan had developed an intestinal infection which needed my attention. What next!! Well, next was the fact that Cindy didn’t feel that she was up for being my replacement. I had spent ten days, six hours a day teaching her the ropes. On the last day, she told Sam that this wasn’t what she had signed up for and we were back to square one. By now, Rolaids became my best friend and trying to calm myself seemed futile. But then, the amazing Debbie Maslowsky, who I’d worked with on stage many times, appeared on the scene and would be taking over part of my job. Unbeknownst to me, she had great business management skills and, after a thorough explanation of the work, thought that she might be able to deal with some of what I did. It was at that point that Sam suggested that rather than quit completely, I could do a lot of what I did in Winnipeg … in Victoria! I had dealt with remote work when I was on the road for shows, so it seemed this arrangement would probably work just as well. It wasn’t truly retirement, but at least it would only be “part time” and at my leisure. The one thing I didn’t want to do was to find myself sitting at my desk for eight hours a day, looking at the park across the street with paths leading down to the ocean and wishing I was outside rather than in.

            There was a tiny point in time when Mom and I had four houses in limbo between us. But, with the prospects in hand, I felt a bit more “up” and, more importantly, so did Mom. I started getting rid of stuff by selling all my books to Aqua Books. That was a hard thing, but I couldn’t accommodate them at the new place and the thought of boxing and transporting hundreds of books was in no way appealing. Kelly Hughes, who owned Aqua, came and looked at them and offered me $500.00 for the whole shebang. I said “yes” as soon as the number came out of his mouth and that was that. The following day, he arrived with a truck and took every last one of them! This was real now. Deciding what to get rid of (the condo apartment was half the size of my house) was on-going as I tried to imagine how things would fit in Victoria. Gradually, stuff got thrown out, given to friends or donated and some rooms started to get that unfamiliar empty echo sound.

            Teresa decided that the plan of her driving across country with me was a good one and that was set. She would be excellent company, certainly a lot of fun. I wouldn’t have to have Morgan on my lap the whole time and T could do some of the driving as well. I love driving long distances and there would be no one better with whom to share this experience. Things were looking up and I was getting more excited.

            Then, out of the blue, with no warning or discussion, “Little Shop” was cancelled! I found out through an e-mail Sam had copied to me. He’d been in touch with Ken about some orchestra details and it came out that the show had been axed! What?? I immediately called Ken to find out what the hell was going on! I yelled at him that I should have been his first call. Apparently, up to the Monday before rehearsals were to begin, they’d sold less that a thousand tickets for the entire run and 10% of those were to Alan Kliffer’s (our ‘Seymour’) Family!! The Board had decided to cut bait rather than lose more money. Well, they were going to lose even more money because they had to pay off a lot of Equity actors who had already signed contracts … including me! I know that a lot of folks had turned down work for this show and I discovered that some had not taken the news well. For me I was really disappointed. It was going to be my swan song and I was looking forward to working with all the folks I’d cast and in particular, to working with Don Horsburgh, our Musical Director. But I couldn’t dwell on it. There was too much else to deal with.

            So it seemed that my theatrical life was over. All that remained was finding out if Debbie was going to be working with us, when Mom’s house would sell, when my house would sell, when the movers would arrive here, when the movers would arrive there … oh Lord, when would all this end???