I've been an actor for nine years. I've killed and been killed. I've loved and lost. I've been freaks and geeks and jerks and sweets. One character I had never been is the title role. That changed for me this month when I began performing Oedipus.

Most people know the story thanks to high school English class, but let me refresh your memory. Prophecy says Oedipus will kill his father and marry his mother. When Oedipus realizes this, he flees from his family and wanders the land until he runs into an obnoxious rich man and his servants. They attempt to bully him, so he kills them all. He arrives in Thebes where the Sphinx is destroying the town. Oedipus solves her riddle: What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening? The answer is man. The Sphinx plummets to her death afterwards, and Oedipus is hailed a savior and made King of Thebes, marrying Jocasta whose husband was mysteriously killed.

Our play picks up with a plague infesting Thebes for unknown reasons, and the oracles say it will not be lifted until the murderer of King Laos is found and expelled. Oedipus vows to find the murderer, and the first murder mystery known to man begins. Sophocles wrote the original irony about 2500 years ago, around the same time as that Bible book. I'll spoil the ending and let all the ignorant know that Oedipus discovers that he is really the son of Laos and Jocasta, who attempted to kill him when he was born but others gave him away rather than killing him. Sound a little like Moses? Coincidence?

The common translation of Oedipus Rex calls for a lot of mouthiness that rivals Shakespeare in quantity but without that cool iambic pentameter quality. The director of our show adapted a stripped down version, and we got the whole tragedy done in 70 minutes. Nice and snappy, and audiences have been appreciative. They remembered the torture of reading that long, drawn-out version in high school, so seeing an hour-plus long tale instead can be much easier to swallow. Much less moaning and groaning as well.

We were very much a motley community theatre lot. Most of the cast was older than me, but I was the one carrying the load. In our version, Oedipus isn't the nicest of guys. He accuses his brother-in-law Creon of usurping his throne. He clings to his wife (and mother) for comfort, and after discovering that he might be the cause of the problems, he tries to find loopholes in people's stories to prove himself innocent.

But it all falls down on Oedipus, and the prophecy comes true. He did kill his father and marry his mother. He had children with her including Antigone, and her story becomes a later tragedy by Sophocles. Jocasta hangs herself after the discovery, and Oedipus stabs out his eyes with her hair pins as punishment.

This sets up the final scene when I come out with blackened eyes, some latex pieces of scar tissue and blood tears dripping down. It looks pretty gruesome. Strangely enough, this is the third play I've been in where my character loses his sight. My eyes were shot out in the other two, but this time, the blinding was my own doing.

After the play was over, I greeted the audience with black raccoon eyes. The spirit gum and black make up created some bizarre tar on my face that took time and make-up remover magic to get off. On many nights after performances, I went out in Albuquerque looking a lot like Billy Joe Armstrong from Green Day. A few strange looks, but people let you do what you want in this town.

The one great danger with being in a tragedy is that tragedy enters your actual life. My alma mater still has not won a football game this year, my fiancee battled with me on a few occasions (one resulting in getting kicked out of the bedroom for a night), the director lost a dear friend during the run, and two dogs of cast members died during the period. Be careful when acting in these tragedies. No one walks away unscathed.

The final matinee begins in three hours, and I will close the book on my first true lead role. I learn many strengths and weaknesses in my acting through the experience, and I still feel my best is yet to come. It's funny how the more I act, the more I realize there is more to know. Reminds of when Sophocles said that the wisest thing to admit is to admit that you know nothing. Or something to that effect.

Chris Jungle is quite sure his fiancee is not his mother and his daughter is not Antigone.