Notice that Ron started writing short stories at an early age. He still likes writing. This was really co-written by Terry and Ron.

Last week over Chinese food, I turned on my trusty tape recorder and started to question Ron about some of the details of his hitherto mysterious life. He was reluctant at first, and he said that he didn't think that a full biography was especially relevant or even interesting to Back Stage readers, not to speak of his shyness and personal reticence. But after a couple of cold beers, I got him to loosen up, and this is the result.

Ron was born in Brooklyn, New York, on Nov. 9, 1949, the son of Arnold and Dorothy Cohen. His mom had been an athelete in her teen years, excelling in tennis and horse-back riding. His dad was a World War II veteran with 9 years in the army. From his Mom, Ron inherited charisma, charm, and a wicked sense of humor; from his Dad, a life-long love of literature and the spoken word, a capacity for loving and being loved, and a tendency to put on weight. In 1953 Ron's little sister, Stephanie, came into the world. They fought like cats and dogs. Ron says it was because she never could forgive him for being born first.

Ron spent his formative years in Island Park and Long Beach, New York, two small towns about 20 miles east of Manhattan. He was a bit of a loner as a child, preferring the company of books and movies to the din of the schoolyard. He read everything from Ayn Rand to Steinbeck to Robert Heinlein. This love of reading also translated into a talent for writing. At an early age, he was writing poetry and short stories. His first experience with live theater was in junior high school. His English teacher, Mrs. Watson, took the eighth grade glass up to Stratford, Connecticut, to see a production of HENRY IV, PART 1. The play was performed in a big barn that had been converted into a theatre, and Mrs. Watson's husband, Douglas, was featured in the cast. This was Ron's first experience of live theatre and his first taste of Shakespeare.

Because of his shyness, Ron didn't actually venture onto the stage until his freshman year at State University of New York at Binghamton. He auditioned for and was cast in THE DYBBUK, a Yiddish play about the possession of a young woman by the disembodied soul of her dead lover. He followed this with THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER, in which he played Eeyore, the existential donkey, and HENRY IV PART 1 in which he played Hal. After this, it could safely be said that he was infatuated with the Bard. Ron appeared in about ten productions during his undergraduate years. He graduated with a B.A. in Political Science, thinking he would go on to law school. But along the way he fell in love, got married, and became a father within the year. Unfortunately the marriage was beset by problems, and it didn't last. In 1975 Ron found himself in Boston with no job, no money, and no roof over his head — all this and a broken heart to boot. Then he discovered the Hare Krsnas. Or maybe they discovered him. In any case, he was attracted to their philosophy, loved their music and their vegetarian food, and he needed a place to crash. Winter was coming on.

So for the next two years he was a full-time Krsna devotee. That meant shaving the head, wearing the "sika" or pony tail, and following the four regulative principles of Brahminical life. It was no cake walk but the Krsna Consciousness Movement was a bonafide branch of orthodox Hinduism, and it had something to offer. Ron says that he never regretted the time spent living and working in the ashram. It was time well spent, learning how to meditate, acquiring humility, and healing some of the wounds he had acquired. At some point he began to chafe at the restrictions of monastic life. When it was time to go he went.

Ron moved to South Florida to visit his parents. He began driving a taxi, a profession that he swears is a great character study for anyone interested in acting or writing. While driving a cab he performed in local plays at night. And while driving his cab one day Ron met the woman who was to become his future wife. Her name was Jennifer, and she drove for a rival company. One thing led to another, and eventually they started to live together. In August of 1979 they moved to San Francisco. Ron wanted to break into professional acting; Jennifer wanted to be near her family who were living in Monterey.

Ron and Jennifer did clerical work through a temporary agency for the next nine months. In April of 1980 Ron auditioned for the New Shakespeare Company of San Francisco. The founder and director was a woman by the name of Margrit Roma. She was a German Jew who had worked with Bertholt Brecht and Max Reinhardt in the 1930's. She was a devout Marxist who believed in doing Shakespeare for the masses, and she was an expert at doing big, broad, outdoor productions. If she thought you were being superficial, she would chew you up and spit you out. Much to his delight Ron was accepted into the company. They performed The MERCHANT OF VENICE and AS YOU LIKE IT in rep, playing at Golden Gate Park in the spring, then moving to Sand Harbor at Lake Tahoe for the summer. In the fall the company went on the road and played various college campuses and high schools in the Northeast and the Deep South.

When the tour was over Ron and Jennifer ended up in South Lake Tahoe. What followed were four and a half very productive years for the both of them. Ron got to play Tevye in FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, and Stanley in STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE. He also appeared in two feature films, "The Loch Ness Horror", in which he was devoured by Nessie, and "The Survivors," a big-budget extravaganza with Robin Williams and Walter Matthau that has the distinction of being one of the worst movies ever made. Jennifer returned to school and got her Associate's degree. In July of 1983 they were married in a beautiful ceremony on the lake.

Which brings us to 1985. Ron, during a period of unemployment, heard about an advertisement in the San Francisco Chronicle for the Monterey TheaterFest. He read the audition dates and saw the promise of some pay. He auditioned in March, got cast in three productions, and returned with Jennifer in April to take up residence in beautiful Pacific Grove. Since that time he has appeared in about 55 productions on the Peninsula. He has worked with GroveMont, Pacific Repertory Theatre, Unicorn Theatre, MPC Theatre Company, The Forest Theater Guild, and Marsha Hovick's Staff Players. He has tried to learn something new from everyone with whom he has worked. He is a believer in the process of building and realizing a character painstakingly and methodically, but he does not endorse any one particular method. He despises dogma, and he believes that every actor must develop his or her own process. He believes, along with David Mamet, that the "Method" is greatly over-rated and over-sold and that actors are primarily storytellers. They must be able to speak with clarity and move with grace.

In January of 1993 Ron lost Jennifer to ovarian cancer. Jennifer had battled bravely, trying a number of different strategies to try to preserve her life. In the end, after 18 months of unrelenting pain, she shuffled off the mortal coil and found peace. The theatre community came out en masse for the funeral service. For this and for the kind support and compassion that he received from so many people in the community, he is deeply grateful.

Shortly after Jennifer's passing, Ron started going out to Karaoke bars to sing. He says it served as an emotional release for him in his grief. It was at one of these bars that he met Louise, the wonderful woman who now shares his life. They have been together for six years and plan to marry in the not-too-distant future.

Ron works for the Monterey Bay Aquarium as a Senior Warehouse Worker. He enjoys the job because he likes physical labor, likes working in a place where he gets all the fresh air he can handle, and loves being able to leave the job in the workplace at quitting time. The benefits are great, the pay is decent, and, most of all, he greatly values the mission of the Aquarium, which is to save the marine environment for future generations. He recommends that everyone visit the Aquarium on a regular basis, especially if they have children.

Ron gives some parting thoughts. On directors: "I like a director who challenges me, but I don't want someone to micromanage everything I do as an actor. Let me do my job and you do yours. I want the director to look at me not as a subordinate but as a collaborator. That doesn't mean that we don't need to empower the director. We most certainly do. And we do that by being willing to take direction. Trust is the key. If you don't trust someone, you really can't work with them."

On local theater reviews: "I would have to say that, in general, theatre criticism in this town is superficial at best. Most reviewers are content to write an extended synopsis of the plot. If I can pick up the paper and get a complete blow-by-blow account of the story line of the play, why do I need to go to the play? Better these reviewers should critique the details of the actual production, the lights, the sound, the costumes, the set, and also, say something about the actors! Most of the time, when I play a character role, I'm lucky to get half a line in the review."

And finally, some thoughts on the mystique of becoming a character: "I never build a character without finding elements of that character within myself. It's a marriage, for better and for worse. I read, do research, rehearse, and generally let things ferment. The imagination is key, the science of ‘what if.’ You must learn to be as open and free as a child when you rehearse with other actors. You must know how to 'play.' Play is the operative word.... Thank you and Good Night!"