By David Shepherd

Scot and I met at a party along with his close friend, Maggie. After an enticing supper by Emily, about ten guests convened in a comfortable living room. Emily suggested we play or perform or sing–whatever comes to mind. I admitted I was building a new improv format for the phone and collecting games for it. Would anyone like to play?

Scot, a social worker and recording artist, said he was game. So I threw him “Week that Was,” which he centered on recent work with a troubled family. He found the nub of his feeling to them and expanded it. I was impressed. You can tell quickly when a new player gets it, and Scot, who is solid but flexible with a thick black moustache, got it fine. He was quick to shift roles, move family members around and keep things going while building his feeling.

I saw that Scot was delighted to be confronted and to reach back in recent time for a personal event. He was willing to take a chance, to explore a situation and follow wherever it led. In other words, he was willing and able to play something unknown.

Next: “Believe It!” Many people cannot imagine expressing with great conviction what they simply do not believe. Scot had no trouble. He found it liberating, in fact.

That same night, while thinking over guide lines for what we’d done, I found myself wondering if Scot would give advice. He had already skipped from the role of player to a potential manager in my mind. When I phoned him, he was willing to take on some responsibility. So, instead of advertising for helpers on Craigs List, I was drawing Scot out of a tiny universe of people that was flowing around me. His joining us was bolstered by Maggie, by Emily and also by a squib on a website he saw when he googled my name.