Around about the time I was wading through the lead role of a tragedy called "Oedipus" in a theatre I'd never played, the owner of theatre told me he had a part for me. This is not too uncommon, especially because if you're in a play that usually means you're open to doing another one. Actors are whores in that respect. Since I have a little family now, I have to be much more selective with the roles I take, and I didn't get overly excited about playing a mystery role in an unknown play. Then, he told me the part: William Jefferson Clinton. You might know him as Bill.

About five years ago, I was directing a different play, and my hair was in a that flip stage to where one of the actors commented 'You should play Bill Clinton someday.' It's true, at the right moment I do have the Clinton hair. With a good chunk of my genealogical roots from the South, my round cheek features can pass for our 42nd President.

I read the script which was called "Hillary: A Modern Greek Tragedy With A (Somewhat) Happy Ending." I enjoyed the fresh new story (it was done off-Broadway last year) and saw the whole thing as a woman empowerment piece. Hillary swears herself to Athena who helps her rise to power, much to the chagrin of Aphrodite. As a result, the Goddess of Love counters Athena with her own charming disciple: Bill Clinton.

The story did not portray my favorite president in the kindest of lights. It focused mainly on Bill's adulterous ways rather than any of his accomplishments, but this play is called "Hillary," not "Bill." In a cast of five women and two men, I kiss three of the ladies and fondle the other two. Never had I attempted such a sexed up role, and I knew after reading it that my fiancee would not be pleased.

But I really wanted to play Bill Clinton. Really, really, really wanted to play Bill. I decided it would be worth any fights or disdain from my significant other, and trust me, I received it and then some. The funny thing about being in a Greek tragedy (modern or classic) is that the tragedy has a way of seeping into your personal life as well. Despite the warnings of my half-witch-bride-to-be, I took the role.

I studied a bit. I watched You-Tube videos of the man, but I only watched a minimum of impersonators. I didn't want it to be a caricature. I found that watching Primary Colors with John Travolta playing a thinly veiled Bill was helpful. It's not a great movie, but his take on the president was solid and reminded me to bring myself to the role instead of the other way around. My brother gave me Clinton's autobiography My Life for Christmas, and I made it through the first 250 pages of about one thousand by the end of production. That gave me all the early life background up through his first stint as governor of Arkansas.

But the main thing was the voice and attitude. I spoke in my high octave with a Southern lilt and quick speak. No matter what happened to me in the play, I let it slide off my back like Slick Willy would. Even though I was the pseudo-villain (Aphrodite's puppet, really), I kept my charm and smile going throughout most of the play. My most memorable moment was the Lewinsky under-the-desk blow job scene. Try getting your motivation up for that one every night! Most of the men ended up enjoying my performance and women felt betrayed, just like the play wanted.

A surprise bonus (and one I initially scoffed at) was my playing the saxophone. I played the alto sax for six years as a kid, and the director filmed me playing my horn for a multi-media section of one scene. He also made me come out playing the sax for the curtain call. Now, Bill played tenor not alto, but no one seemed to care. I played like a high schooler with riffs like God Bless America and When The Saints Go Marching In, but no one seemed to mind. They were all amazed I could play at all.

All in all, playing Bill was the most fun I ever had in a production. Not only was I the comic relief, but I also gave the play its most authentic portrayal. There's something about playing a living president from a young man to old age. I started with my light brown hair, and through the course of the play, I added clown white makeup to my locks. By the end, I was the silver haired ex-president.

That's what I feel like now: an ex-president. The play closed last week to quality reviews and praise and half houses. It's hard to pack the house with a new play in a not-so-frequented theatre, but we had a great time doing it. I took my lumps in my personal life for doing things on stage I wouldn't do in real life, but don't worry, all is well again. I went and saw "Medea" last night, a classic Greek tragedy, and thought to myself how glad I was to be in production I chose.

Hey, how often do you get to be the president?

Chris Jungle doubts he will ever portray either of the Bush presidents.