Right Brain—Left Brain

Or Possibly…No Brain?


OK, I feel like saying something ugly this morning.

I’ve spent much of the past two years on a desert island—intellectually and philosophically—as I have done my volunteer work in the theater here in the Golden Isles.

The clues that there could be problems and conflict were delivered early and often, but being the tolerant, self-effacing fool that I am, I chose to ignore these signs of dissent in the interest of broadening my horizons.

I can now authoritatively make the following proclamations, and nothing anyone can say will change my mind:

99.9% of the people involved in “Community Theater” are pompous, self-indulgent, ungrateful, mindless idiots that live and die to get their lumbering carcasses and unspectacular faces on the stage in public, at any cost.

The other 0.1% of the “community theater” volunteers are ignorant, yet often highly talented people like me, who are just passing through, providing solid ground and traction as the star wanna-be’s stumble toward their place in the spotlight.

These people, what I call “theater geeks,” act as their own judge, jury, and executioner in the comical drama of their little theater worlds, and the death sentence can be earned in a variety of ways. Thus far I’ve managed to stumble upon two methods.

The first method is rather classic, and it is a well know faux pas in many organizations like private businesses and even church.

Theater Rule #1:

Never, never ever, make the “powers what be” look bad. Your success is their failure, no matter how much your efforts advance the progress of the theater as a whole.

I worked for a year with The Island Players Theater Company here on St. Simons Island, and in that time I managed to piss off everyone that had ever built a set for their productions. They did everything that they could to derail my own efforts, including demanding that I employ the worst incompetent volunteers they could muster, and finally boycotting entirely my construction efforts on Agatha Christie’s “The Mousetrap.”

When I completed the Mousetrap set essentially by myself, expending 350 hours of my time on the effort, they then omitted my name from the playbill and program. I had season ticket holders calling me and telling me that my work was the best they had ever seen in a show, but the “powers what be” were unable to stomach that I—a mere amateur, a man with NO PRIOR THEATER EXPERIENCE—could build sets better than a bunch of ham fisted retired schoolteachers and pawn shop owners. These people, wearing shiny new steel toed boots, crisp leather tool aprons, and brandishing expensive cordless screwdrivers, were about as effective at set construction as I would be going to the Super Bowl stadium wearing a football uniform.

Do you get my drift?

I lasted through one additional set construction effort working for a shallow, ungrateful woman that called herself a producer, under the auspices of another modest woman who had “designed and built sets for twenty years and always won the ‘best set’ award”, and once again when the playbill came out they mysteriously omitted my name as assistant set designer and set construction chief.

“Oh…so sorry, it was an oversight…”

After several other incidents, upheavals, and intentional slights, I assessed my position, and chose to cut my losses last March by terminating my relationship with TIP.

Thereafter I looked across the Torrez Causeway to the mainland and greener pastures, so to speak.

There are two community theater opportunities in Brunswick—The Ritz Theater, and the CAPE Theater.

I wrote about and displayed pictures of the elaborate set I designed and constructed for Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol” here on this blog last December. My experience with the show’s director Heather and the producer Rob couldn’t have been more positive. They outlined the schedule and my tasks, I produced what we needed, the show was a GREAT success.

I’d actually pay money to work with them at the Ritz again.

My soul was healed, and my enthusiasm for the theater January 1st was at an all time high.

Unfortunately, I didn’t make it out of the month of January with the same attitude because, you see…

I WAS FIRED FROM A VOLUNTEER SET CONSTRUCTION JOB YESTERDAY! (and I was the only person working on the set.)

Yes indeed, Ladies and Gentlemen, the silly bitch running the “You’re A Good Man Charley Brown” dinner theater got her thong in a bunch (or her boxers in a bunch—who knows?) and sent me an E-mail yesterday morning telling me to return the theater’s tools and supplies I had been dragging around in my car’s trunk for a month because “I obviously didn’t intend to honor my commitments to the CAPE Theater.”

WTF?

Needless to say I was shocked, but I’ve also developed the attitude that I’m not going to grovel in order to be ALLOWED to work for free.

And what was the hideous crime that I was guilty of that caused me to receive the “Theater Death Sentence”? It’s quite simple, actually…I violated Theater Rule #2 (see below)

Theater Rule #2:

Never, never ever, ignore a female theater geek when she stomps her little (or humongous) foot and demands that you do something “right now.”

You see, I had a little bout with a chest cold for a couple of weeks this month, and instead of completing the set on the unrealistic original schedule that “theater geek lady” had planned for me (but not discussed with me), I was working on a schedule that would have the set components completed in the actual order as the cast needed them, finishing this week—over a week before the show opened February 3rd.

My drop dead date was last Thursday, and I had easily beat the date by finishing Snoopy’s doghouse on Tuesday, with only a little painting and final details to address. Then “theater geek lady” decided that she didn’t like the size of the dog house (something we had discussed in detail prior to construction) and she wanted me to cut it down in size. No PROBLEM, except that the modifications required re-cutting virtually every single board in the structure. Really, it was no problem—just let me revise my drawings and calculations and I’ll knock it out for you, I replied.

Problem is, I couldn’t get it done on Thursday because I spent Thursday afternoon getting a battery installed in the Mustang and by the time I got to the church the building was locked up and I didn’t have a key.

Pesky details aside, when I checked e-mail on my way out the door Friday morning to go finish the set, I learned that I was fired. I even gave the woman a chance to allow me to finish yesterday, but all she could do was rant about how I had their stuff and demand that I return it by noon, else they wouldn’t reimburse me for materials I had paid for out of MY wallet.

Being the insidious incompetent that I am, I notified her that she could keep my $40 and consider it to be my LAST donation to CAPE theater in money or time, and that I would return the tools and materials to the church by noon. By “the church” I meant the Methodist Church where the play was actually being produced, not the Presbyterian Church where I had built the set.

Then she started bitching because I would not return the tools and lay them at her feet, presumably so that she could browbeat me in person and then kiss and make up. "So Sorry" crazy "theater geek lady" but "this Homey don't play that kiss and make up shit..."

I had the tools inside the Methodist Church by noon, and I trust that the CAPE theater will have a WONDERFUL production.

As a post script analysis, I realized that I had yet again actually violated another theater rule in this process:

Theater Rule #3

Never, never ever, let the theater geeks know that you could care less about ever getting your lumbering carcass and face on their stage.

You see, getting your lumbering carcass and face on stage is what the theater is all about, at least down here on the Georgia coast. NOTHING else matters. People pimp each other back and forth, diddling around behind the scenes, waiting until it's their turn to be on stage.

It doesn't matter if you can actually ACT or DANCE or SING--you get to be on stage by kissing ass and earning your place in the spotlight doing all of the crap that needs doing.

Those pesky auditions are just a formality--most of the good parts are already taken no matter how good you do reading for a part. I've seen great singers and exceptional actors turned away, never to return again, simply because the theater geeks "owed" themselves or someone a part in a play. Tit for Tat, once you sell your soul to the devil, you become one of "THEM."

I refuse to be one of "THEM."

Seriously, it would appear that once you make it to a certain level in the hierarchy, you can then sit on your larels bashing all of the new volunteers while you impatiently wait until your turn comes up to bore an audience to death with a mediocre performance.

F**K the Theater and most of the “Theater People.”

Who the hell do they think they are anyway?