Backstaged

I went to a volunteer training session a few days ago for the fine arts department at UT. They've been working to get a student contingent among their volunteer ushers for a while, so for the next two semesters I get to be part of it. I am really excited about this.

Stock photo; this is not from UT.

Part of that excitement comes from being near a stage again. I was in the drama club throughout my middle school and high school years, and while I am far from being an actress, I loved the backstage stuff. Building a set, moving it around, learning every moment of a play by heart... that's the only reason I could see for even going to school when I was a teenager. (My reputation preceded me, even then; I was so clumsy and fumble-fingered that when anything turned up broken, the directors automatically assumed it was me. The problem is that they were right six times out of four.)

So in the course of the tour of Bass Concert Hall, I felt a little bit of my old life tugging at my heart. We were in the auditorium and the house manager was explaining seating and evacuation procedures to us, when someone walked across the stage, and the house manager paused to shout good-bye and assure him that she would turn out the lights when she was done. Sigh... that used to be me who was among the last to leave and who had free run of the auditorium pretty much any time I wanted. For a fraction of a second, I wished that I were a fine arts major.

The truth is, even though I once entertained ideas of being a professional stagehand, I can't imagine wanting that now-- the hours are long (including nights and weekends!), the work is hard, and the position is thankless. Actors and crew were buddy-buddy in high school, and I had the leverage at that time to demand that my crew and I be treated with the same respect as everyone else, but it doesn't work that way outside of educational theatre. Plus, everything is so automated now (okay, it has been for 20 years) that I'd be more in the nature of a technician operating a computer than the hands-on set movement I once knew.

Then the house manager took us up on stage and told us about the nifty hydraulic lift under the front six feet or so of the stage, which when raised makes the stage larger and when lowered makes the pit area (either for the orchestra or for extra seating), and I twinged again. My high school had one of those, as crazy as it sounds for a small high school to have such a thing. We didn't know that we were über-lucky to have it.

So, I'm returning to an auditorium. I won't be backstage, I won't get to touch anything, and I certainly won't meet any of the actors. But it's a long way better than nothing, and a nice way to see an old dream readjusted for a new reality.

Do you have any childhood dreams that needed some serious tweaking as you grew older?