I answered a small-space help wanted ad in the New York Times.
Headline, “Puppeteer Driver Wanted.” 
I had done some hand-puppeteering successfully,
but what the heck was a puppeteer driver?

There was nothing in the ad that gave a clue. 
Just some info on when and where, and duration of the gig.
So I made the call with little hope, but I had to know -
What the heck is a puppeteer driver?

Well, they needed a puppeteer who also could drive.
They were going on the road for the summer,
and leaving in four days time. 
A newly hired member of the troupe, it seems,
couldn’t learn his lines (yes, lines!), or couldn’t puppeteer,
or maybe he just couldn’t drive.
Was I licensed to drive, could I memorize, could I act,
did I want the job?

“Come on in, and we’ll talk it over.”
One thing gave me pause, but it didn’t faze them.
They were “The Suzari Marionettes,” and I had to learn the ropes,
or strings, to be precise. 
I didn’t know bupkis about marionettes, but they didn’t care a bean.
They hired me on the spot, not that they thought I was hot;
I think it was because I could drive.

It was a puppet play, with a wicked magician, ‘Tevan The Great”
(me, on stage, talking to the kiddies in the seats, doing a magic trick), 
and a little marionette who came under his spell, a couple of marionette children,
and, of course, the star of the show, the beautiful, graceful ballerina, stunningly choreographed.
It was crowded up on the “bridge,” where we puppeteers couldn’t be seen;
Someone else controlled Tevan’s strings....and I was an adorable little dog, with a little dog’s voice 
(“Arf! Arf! Arf!”) - a much easier puppet, a snap to handle, and I stole the show with all kinds of doggie antics,
getting lots of laughs (and my partners pissed).
I had a memorable summer, trouping New Hampshire, Maine, and other scenic places,
and I’ve never touched a puppet since.