I saw the following shows at the Fringe: For Kingdom and Fatherland, Platinum, The Secretaries, Terms of Dismemberment, Viva La Evolucion, The Twentieth-Century Way, and I think one or two others. That was one of the best parts of being at the Fringe — seeing the shows at a discount!

Special thanks to my team: Alex Mark and Sean Lambert. We had such adventures and stories to add to our career-logs of most embarrassing and courageous moments.

Being naked onstage: I was told it was tasteful and was appropriate to the story. Mormon swearing: I probably could have gone further!

I want to do the Edinborough Fringe Festival in Scotland next year!

When I was preforming Mormon American Princess last summer in Provincetown, I attended a special service at the historic Unitarian Universalist Meeting House (which looks quite a lot like the inside of the old Mormon Temple in Kirkland, Ohio built about the same time!). It was the Blessing of the Performers led by Rev. Alison Hyder. The theatre downstairs below the sanctuary has launched Margaret Cho, Hedda Lettuce . . . and gosh, didn’t that Mormon Boy play there once?

We sang hymns like “There’s No Business Like Show Business” and “Everything’s Coming Up Roses”. We read the invocation from The Frogs by Stephen Sondheim. But what I was impressed with was the “Performers’ Litany of Gratitude”. I have adapted it from the program I kept!

PERFORMERS’ LITANY OF GRATITUDE

Leader: Let us come together as performers and producers, as stage crew and writers who love our craft. As we would gain the applause and thanks of those who watch us sing and act, dance and play, so we too, express our gratitude for all that sustains us in our struggles to excel:

Leader: For the great performers whose work first inspired and sparked our dreams:
Performers: We give applause and thanks.

For the composers, classical, layered and profound, who move us with passions beyond words:
We give applause and thanks.

And for the great songwriters: Porter, Sondheim, Cahn and Carmichael, George M. Cohan, Dorothy Fields, and all the lyricists and tunesmiths whose songs create the soundtracks of our lives:
We give applause and thanks.

For teachers and directors, who shape and improve our skills:
We give applause and thanks.

For buskers, mimes, and street musicians, who bring their art to the subways and sidewalks:
We give applause and thanks.

For the diversity of performing art, for dancers, poets, drag artists and comics, for singer-songwriters and classical actors, for musicians, lip-syncers, illusionists and accompanists, emcees, djs, singers and bands:
We give applause and thanks.

And for theaters and performance halls that frame and illuminate our art:
We give applause and thanks.

And for theaters and performance halls that frame and illuminate our art:
We give applause and thanks.

For well-made musical instruments that let us express ourselves:
We give applause and thanks.

For the set and costume creators, lighting technicians, sound engineers, and all the backstage crew: unsung, hardworking, and dedicated to their craft:
We give applause and thanks.

For producers, agents and publicists, for patrons, poster-makers and street hawkers, who get the word out for us:
We give applause and thanks.

For the sunny days when we can flier, and rains that bring the people from the beach:
We give applause and thanks.

For our voices and bodies and creative minds that channel our deepest hopes, for talent and the gifts of persistence, courage, and hope:
We give applause and thanks.

For the sore throats, broken loops and other mishaps that keep us on our toes, for exhaustion and blank minds, and for the adrenaline that give us drive.
We give applause and thanks.

For our comrades and colleagues on stage and off, who support and challenge us to greater heights:
We give applause and thanks.

For Provincetown (or New York City) audiences who come back year after year, and the fans who remember us from “Way back when” and all the fans that spread the word and lift us with their love.
We give applause and thanks.

For being able to communicate the truth through music or motion that we can’t put into words, and express the pain and joy of human life:
We give applause and thanks.

For the opportunity to be our fullest selves, and our great good fortune in the life that we share as Provincetown’s (New York City’s)
performance community, loved and admired, and encouraged for ourselves:
We give applause and thanks.

And always, especially, for the love that flows through us and into the world, and that returns to us in so many ways:
We give applause and thanks.