This semester, I’m living in New York City for my off-campus study adventure. Every day, I walk past the Empire State Building on the way to work and by The New York Times on the way home. At first, I reveled in this because it reminded me of where I was and the opportunities that I was taking hold of, but after a while, I adopted the true New York way. I stopped noticing the monuments I passed, and I didn’t look twice when a cab would blare the horn. In the same way that we take the beauty of “The Hill” for granted, I began to focus on getting from place to place, just like when I was on campus, rushing from class to class.
I’m interning at Bret Adams Ltd., an acting and literary agency. I handle calls and information from actors, casting offices, and producers. I help with the new website, and I put together submissions that go straight to casting directors. In the evenings, I’m rehearsing for Sweeney Todd. So at 5:30, I run from Bret Adams to Theater Row Studios. As grateful as I am to take part in the business, my life is a whirlwind and I tend to get caught in it.
Several weeks back, I was taught a lesson. One agent offered me tickets to the opening of Lombardi, a Broadway play chronicling the life of football legend, Vince Lombardi. Growing up in Steeler nation, I was thrilled about seeing the show and attending the after party. I expected a small event nestled along Broadway, but I had no idea what was in store.
Rushing out of the subway, I ran to the theater in fear of missing the curtain. I passed through a group of NFL officials to my left and the Lombardi trophy to my right. The lobby was a sight in itself, but the play was incredible. I watched in astonishment as Dan Lauria (The Wonder Years dad) and Judith Light (Who’s the Boss mom) recreated scenes from the lives of the Lombardis, and I left for the party with chills.
I passed over a red, velvet carpet and into a ballroom the size of A-Quad. The room was dim with curtains of crystal and white lights hanging from the ceiling. The silver furnishings were decorated with candles, illuminating the room and each important individual that walked through. I was in awe. I walked along the tables of football-themed cuisine and found a chair to sit in and observe. For the first time in weeks, I took in what was around me. I watched Rachel Dratch congratulate the cast, and I saw Vince Lombardi’s daughter embrace Dan Lauria, thanking him for the brilliant portrayal of her late father. I was surrounded by people who were lucky enough to achieve success in the field that I aspire to. Even with such success, they were still enlightened by what they experienced and their passion emanated.
I felt so giddy afterward because it revived my senses and inspiration. We must try our hardest to appreciate the experiences we are presented with. An 8:30 a.m. class might feel daunting when you were up too late or it’s cold outside, and walking the same route to work every day might seem monotonous, but life is in the details. Take a look around—you’ll see.
Christina Gorski is a junior history major and theatre minor from Pittsburgh.