Greetings Friends of Playback!
Our First Friday theme for June 4 is Facing Fear. Our internal alarm system has served us well, but sometimes Fear itself is our greatest challenge. As a matter of cold fact, Fear, with a capital F, may be the most fundamental emotional background of what we are as human beings.

Do you have a story of a time when fear was front and center? We bet you do. Come and share your story – or just come to witness.
Portland Playback Theatre is just turning four years old and has “played back” hundreds of stories. If you haven’t had your story improvisationally enacted you’re really missing something!
Friday, June 4, 7:30 PM at the First Parish Church at the intersection of Congress and Temple streets in Portland. Still only 5 bucks at the door!

May’s performance “Lost and Found” was a great night thanks to the most excellent audience members who told some most excellent stories

‘Lost and Found’ apparently isn’t just an old box full of winter hats at the front desk. Friday saw that what’s lost isn’t always missed, what’s found isn’t always wanted. The stories included:

Dealing with Karma: to ditch or not to ditch the annoying traveling companion in Yugoslavia?

The Illusive Ring: when will it return?

No Mo in Jo: lost boy in Jordan mall wonders what the fuss is about.

What was your favorite story from the night?

Portland Playback is truly blessed to have some very loyal fans who come every month to listen to others’ stories or–if we’re lucky–to tell some of their own. Jennifer Lunden, one such “regular,” has sat in the teller’s chair one more than one occasion but as soon as she sat down during our April “Before and After” performance you could tell she had a story she had been waiting to tell for a long time.

She told a touching and hopeful story about learning to live, and appreciate, life despite chronic illness. She touchingly recounts her struggles and Playback’s role in reconciling them in her blog.

Here’s a passage from her story …

“I approached the troupe clustered at the front of the room to thank them again. Emily said, reaching her arms around me, “I want to give you a hug.” Marsha thanked me for the story, and said that it opened up the audience beautifully. “We’re always glad to get a Lunden story.”

Again, I was amazed. I had been reluctant to raise my hand, thinking, “They must be saying, ‘Oh, enough already. Put your hand down and let somebody else tell for once.’” I always think they must be thinking that. That I must sit down and be quiet. That I am being greedy, taking up everybody’s time to tell my stories, when other people have stories, too. It is hard to believe, still, that people want to hear what I have to say.

And this time, I told my tenderest story. My story touched people, and their compassion was a blessing to me.”

Read the entire entry here.