Parenting, Broadway, and 'Ragtime'

Fifteen years ago, a Broadway debut kicked off the annual family holiday craziness that hasn't stopped since

Fifteen years ago tonight, our son Ben made his Broadway debut in the revival of “Ragtime.” It was during this journey — Nicholas was 16, Kate was 12, and Ben and Emma were 11 — that I started writing the initial version of “Our Reality Show” in our one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan.

Jill and I were in the audience for Ben’s opening night; the show had formally opened the previous week, but as the understudy, he had not gone on in New York or during the Kennedy Center run that started it all.

At the time, many people did not understand that our son — not us — was leading this charge for him to be on stage. Jill and I were determined to allow our kids to pursue their interests, and we decided to do whatever it took to help them build successful lives.

We’ve always taken the long game view of parenting. Our attitude was to give them experiences, not “stuff.” And raising four children — three born within a calendar year — was certainly an “experience.”

You might wonder what I mean by “long game view.” It’s simple math. As parents, you’re in charge of their well-being for the first 18 years of their lives. At that point, the next steps are up to them. If you take the long game view, keeping at the forefront the idea that you’ll have a relationship that will last at least two or three times longer than those first 18 years, then you’ll be more prone to look at the big picture. That’s ultimately good for all concerned, I think.

It's not a perfect plan. Nothing is when it comes to parenting. I’ve had more than my share of screwups in this arena. But as the familial holiday/birthday craziness begins — Thanksgiving, four December birthdays (five counting Kate’s husband, Matthew), Christmas and New Year’s — we are fortunate to have strong adult relationships with all of our “kids.”

For that, I’m very thankful.

The Broadway debut

Every year, I search through the photos and find the one that John Mara — the child guardian on “Ragtime” — took of our son’s first Broadway bow. But I did not revisit the essay I wrote after his debut for a number of years. This was written on Nov. 23, 2009.

“In 1902, Father built a house on the crest of the Broadview Avenue hill. ... And all our family's days would be warm and fair.” — The Little Boy, opening lines of “Ragtime.”

The curtain opened and there stood my son, opening the first Saturday night performance — not counting previews — of Broadway’s new revival of “Ragtime.” It had been a long journey to this point, and as Jill and I sat on the 7th row in the orchestra section, we were more nervous than Ben was.

Arms interlocked, fingers crossed, tears filling our eyes, we watched as he maneuvered across the stage in the show’s stirring opening number. And just like you see in the movies, I found myself flashing back to that day in March when I took him to the understudy audition at the Kennedy Center.

“And there was distant music…”

At the time, we didn’t know if he had the vocal chops for the part, especially since the role called for performing with a 28-piece orchestra. And precedent was working against him; he had what he thought was a Kennedy Center jinx because some of his worst auditions had occurred there.

“Do your best,” I told him, as we do at every audition. “As long as you do your best, everything else will take care of itself.” I recognize those are clichés, but we say them with all due sincerity, because that’s all we require of him as we make this journey.

That day, we also came up with a new, more straightforward motto: “Kick ass. Take names. Have fun.” Perhaps not the most politically correct thing to say to an 11-year-old, but we say it anyway. And he did and does to this day.

For all of the hard work and sacrifice that this requires on the part of everyone in our family, you have to keep the “fun” part in perspective. After all, he’s still a kid, and this is an adventure equal to any rollercoaster ride you can find in any theme park.

Or, as he says, “You know what the worst part about boredom is? It’s boring.”

This has been anything but boring.

A Short Film

In honor of this evening, I wanted to share a snapshot of how we knew our son was going to be an actor. At age 11, he started making movies with Christopher Cox, who Ben understudied in “Ragtime.”

Most were Nerf War videos done with a point-and-shoot digital camera with Chris writing the scripts and directing. Soon, after learned how to edit on iMovie, Ben started making his own short films, something he still loves to do.

As a kid, most were Nerf War clips (a couple have survived on YouTube), but this is his Broadway “tribute” … I’m still waiting for the sequel.