When We Met Audra McDonald

We were once on a plane to Arizona. My husband was going to watch the Kansas City Royals in spring training; I was going to sit by the hotel pool with an Anita Brookner novel.

Audra McDonald was on our plane. I knew this; I'm not sure anyone else knew this. In my memory, she is just in an up-front row; it's not first-class. My husband recalls things in a different way.

In any case, if you've heard Audra's on-stage banter, you know she is often in the role of a beleaguered mom. "My daughter doesn't like my singing!" "My daughter said I was weak in The Sound of Music!" I find the act slightly grating, and I did note, while on the plane, that Daughter and Mom seemed to be co-existing in peace.

After we landed, my husband said, "We need to say something." Marc has many verbal and political skills I myself lack, and so I opted out. I stood in the lounging area like a wallflower. Audra waited for her child's nanny, by the restroom, and Marc approached, and these were his words:

Ms. McDonald? Please let us carry your luggage. It's the least we can do.

This was ridiculously charming, and Audra was clearly charmed, and also maybe well-equipped for gently discouraging gay men with Big Dreams. "It's OK," she said. "Thank you so much. I have some help."

We skipped away. If I could go back in time, I would have spoken up. (Live and learn.) But I have this happy memory. A major event--at least for me....

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