August 9, 2006, was a wonderfully poignant night for me. At that time, I was in an Off-Broadway production. Seven times a week, at the end of the evening, I said goodnight to my fellow cast and crew, walked out the front doors of the theatre, down the hall and out the front doors of the building. I paused where I stood at the corner of 43rd Street and 8th Avenue facing east. Across the street stood the various Broadway theatres with their shiny marquees lighting up the night – one block away from where I performed seven times per week. I smile when I think back to the adolescent version of myself who sat in his bedroom and day-dreamed of something like that happening