Braeden's UTA conference was a good one. Every night he came home positively euphoric. He had a great time with his friends, had fun in his workshops and learned a lot too.
I loved hearing the stories. It's like Braeden and his friends orchestrated their days just to make me laugh in the retelling.
One person they learned from at the conference was Broadway composer Frank Wildhorn. Braeden roped his friend Claire into going with him and they walked up to Frank Wildhorn after one of the meetings.
(It's the same Claire that I will love until my dying day.)
Braeden said, "Frank, can I take a picture with you?"
He said sure and was looking around for someone to take the picture. Braeden said, "I'd rather just take a selfie."
Frank Wildhorn said, "I guess it is a selfie age."
When Braeden told me the story, I said, "You called him Frank?"
"Yeah," Braeden said, "We were on a first name basis. He had said the day before in a workshop that we needed to be tenacious." Then he admitted, "Mr. Shelley was kind of embarrassed about the selfie."
Poor Mr. Shelley. He's the drama teacher. Can you imagine the moxie it would take to chaperone a group of drama kids? They are afraid of exactly nothing and in fact look for ways to draw attention to themselves.
(I think I'll love drama teachers until my dying day too.)
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