Pickle Dreams

Last month I had one of the best vacations of my life. I spent a week in Ciudad de Mexico, or Distrito Federal (which, when a friend sent an email wishing me a good trip in the DF, I replied that I was going to Mexico, not the Dominican Republic. Whoopsy.)

And while the food, culture and scenery were all fabulous, what made it such a stellar trip was one of those remarkable women: Megan Elizabeth O’Hanlon Solis. I call her Megs. Or sometimes Weirdo.

Megs and I met in college, and first got to know each other a little bit when she played the doctor in the production of “Shadowlands” that I directed. Megan’s stage presence and terrific timing were crystal clear, and she was incredibly conscientious about showing up on time and knowing her lines. It was a rather small part that she performed with aplomb – except that she couldn’t remember her one piece of business: carrying a chair offstage at the end of her scene.

Megs and I at Teotihuacan. My knowledgeable (and cheap!) tour guide told me that the pyramid behind us was more than a mile away.

As it was eleven years ago (crikey!), I can only visualize short segments of the rehearsals or performances, but one I do recall is sitting in the seats in Eastvold, stopping the scene after Megan exited, and calling her back onto the stage. “Megan, is there anything you’re forgetting?” I asked. The puzzled look that is now so very familiar appeared on her face. “I don’t think so,” she responded. Classic.

I also remember sitting in those same chairs a night or two later, taking notes during a run through, and writing in six-inch-high letters across the page, “STRIKE THE CHAIR!!!!!!!!!” I’m not sure if she ever did it flawlessly in rehearsal, but I learned during the run of the show that Megs is a pro: not once did she forget during performances.

Megs and I didn’t get really close until after I graduated, wandered in the Oklahoma wilderness, and returned home. My first two months back in Washington were spent living in the Hot Box, a house near PLU that Megan’s mom’s boyfriend owned. “We lived together?!?” Megan asked when the subject came up during my visit. “Yes Megan. It’s when we accidentally set Elvis on fire in the bathroom, remember?”