I admire them all because they do the hard yards of rehearsals, of adopting the art of good timing, of letting mum dress you up as a little garden fairy (tough going when you're an 8-year-old boy, believe me) and then stepping out into the lights, and before an audience of strangers, and reeling off those well-learned lines.
I have only appeared in one stage show and that was at primary school, and my single line was "they are hiding behind the trees".
So, at the required moment I stepped forward to dramatically announce that "they are behind the hiding trees".
No one seemed to notice - except for dear old Mrs Monteith, the teacher, whose face sort of drooped down to meet the rising palms of her hands.
However, that pales against the finest moment of unintended ad-libbing I have seen and enjoyed.
It was an end-of-year show at the intermediate school one of our daughters attended.
There was the singing, the dancing and the little costumed snippets thrown in along the way and, as the finale approached, the children in the leading roles went to the front of the stage ... and one young lad unfortunately passed wind just when there was silence.
Of course the kids around him started to giggle as he glowed redder than the dress his little co-star wore ... and the laughter spread to the audience.
I thought I detected a distant groan not unlike that of an exasperated teacher/director but it was the kid ... he'd let another one go in his nervous state.
"A remarkable show ... unforgettable," I remarked on the way out.
"The sweet smell of success," someone else chipped in and the chortling started again on the way to the carpark.
That young lad left his mark on the audience that night, and probably on his underpants but let's leave it at that.
Repertory theatre is a tonic for small communities.
Large communities, too, of course but it is the small-town productions which stand out because the bloke who works at the local butchery and the woman who runs the small roadside fruit and vege shop morph into kings and queens for the duration of a matinee show and an evening event which is followed by a few drinks and sausage rolls.
Which is what makes Showtime on TV1 this Saturday such a special little part of the Kiwi landscape.
Grown-ups acting up ... being silly and entertaining as they ham their way through remarkable shows which, from what I've seen, are more appealing than many of those the broadcasters pay for.
The small-town shows are tops but put it this way ... they won't give up their day jobs.
Showtime, TV1 at 7.30pm on Saturday: The enthusiasm for and the pursuit of laughter are at the core of this series. Regular people, many of whom have never stepped on to a stage to deliver a line, doing just that. This looks at the thespian effort from two community theatres - one in the big city and one out in the wop-wops. Watching the occasionally exasperated amateur director is at times priceless. And the costuming ... has to be seen to be believed.
