"No criticisms, please."

Everyone has a story (or ten) they wish they could forget, one that makes them cringe or blush every time they recall it. Here's one of mine. In 1993, when I was living in L.A. and looking for a collaborator for one of my musicals (I write the book and lyrics) I was contacted by an seasoned composer who had once had a semi-successful musical on Broadway. When I sent him the script which was about an early American president, he said rather bluntly he had no interest in writing music for my play and added, "Who would want to see this?" Despite that he and I kept up a correspondence for about a year. His letters, while self-centered, and deservedly so, were very interesting. And at times he sent me parts of other musicals he was working on. When I told him I was coming to New York, he insisted that I come by for breakfast, which I did. He lived with his girlfriend (both in their late 60s) in a rent-subsidized building near the Battery with a spectacular view of the harbor and The Statue of Liberty. While the breakfast was rather a peculiar concoction, the conversation was pleasant and it was great to hear theater stories from someone who was part of the Broadway world. At one point he reiterated that my musical would never get produced because nobody would be interested in such a boring theme. Though his comments were rather rude and blunt, I was not especially offended and even granted that he might be right. When we discussed his one Broadway success, which I had seen years before and had not enjoyed, I mentioned that I was surprised, having seen the play that it was based on, that he hadn't created a song on a special scene in the original play that I regarded as a powerful moment begging for musical expression. Once I said this, all amiability disappeared. He stood up and left the room. His girlfriend followed. Returning, she told me that he was tired and it was best for me to leave. Later, when I called, she made it very clear I was to have no further contact with this talented, but obviously over-sensitive, composer. Anyway, I hate this story and wish I could erase the memory. I am sure everyone has such experiences. For a while I wondered if I had been especially harsh in my criticism. If I should not have felt as free to comment on his play as he had on mine. Did I deliberately wound him? The answer is no. It is just another one of those unfortunate situations in life where a person feels he or she can make completely undiplomatic comments but are suddenly shattered when someone criticizes them. In this man's case it is especially sad because I suspect he would have been a more successful Broadway composer if he were not so sensitive.

Note: Once I moved back to Miami, I did find a very talented composer, John Dusenberry (in L.A. , where else?) to collaborate with me on the musical The Accidental President. We managed to have a very well-received production in Manhattan Beach, California. No one in the audience seems to have found the theme boring and, in fact, there were quite a few wet eyes during the moving last scenes.