The best job I ever had

It's amazing how quickly I forget things.

An innocuous e-mail conversation with kc brought up something I hadn't thought about in maybe five years: working in the theater. I told you about my worst jobs. Now I'll tell you about the best.

In 2000 I was getting ready to finish my film degree and looking at grad schools. I've said before how bad my grades were in college, but at this point my GPA had been repair to the point were it wouldn't have been near impossible. But there just aren't a lot of graduate film programs out there, even fewer with a screenwriting program. So to increase the odds of extending my school career buy another half-decade, I started looking into playwriting MFA programs. And that led me to volunteering for a theater company.

That summer I worked on running crew for "Six Women with Brain Death, or Expiring Minds Want to Know," a musical by Oklahoman Mark Houston.


It was such a great show. It was fun to watch and so much fun to do, even though it was so demanding. Wearing all black I got to do set changes between scenes, and twice during the show I had maybe 45 seconds to run from backstage to the top of the auditorium to operate the second spotlight. The second time I did it I didn't have to go back down. I got a great viewpoint to watch the finale every night, and even though, including rehearsals, I saw it over a hundred times, it never got old.


The official cast party was held at home of Phil, the stage manager, and Don, the crew chief. The fifteen unofficial cast parties were held mainly at Galileo's in Oklahoma City's Paseo arts district, with the exception of one or two held at On the Border when we were in the mood for margaritas.

And it wasn't until the last show that I found out I was getting paid for my efforts: a whopping $50. I felt like I was stealing. And the bonus: the theater company director wanted me to be sound operator for "As Bees In Honey Drown."

That was an unremarkable show, except that the girl with the blue hair, Katy, was really hot (trust me -- the picture nor the wig do her no justice). I also had less time to enjoy being with the crew; school was back in session and I was also working at the paper. But this shows how much I loved working there: I missed the first two games of OU's 2000 national championship season to work that show.

But I didn't get offered a spot on the crew in CST's next production: "Deathtrap." That was disappointing to be sure. Until I found out I didn't get offered because they had me in mind for light board operator in "Les Liaisons Dangereuses," starring the very cool Alley Mills, whom you all know as the mom from "The Wonder Years."



Yes, for the entire first day on the set during the rehearsals I kept thinking of her as Kevin's mom -- right up until the point she yelled "Oh fuck! LINE!" She really was a nice lady.

And her husband was cool too: Orson Bean, who was so awesome as the boss in "Being John Malkovich." And if I had known then that he was the voice of Bilbo Baggins in the animated version of "The Hobbit" I would have developed a man-crush on him on the spot.

That show was a lot of fun, too. And it only ran one weekend, so it was two weeks of work while OU was on the road or on a bye week, and it paid $100 because it was a Stage Center production.

And what show was next? "Over the River and Through the Woods." But I can't tell you anything about that. When they asked me whether I'd be available, and of course I said no. By that time I had added journalism as my second major; next semester I was to be entertainment editor. I wasn't going to have time.

What disappoints me now, looking back, is that I remember during rehearsals for "Six Women," when we were working well past midnight trying to get ready for opening night, I thought to myself how much I loved the theater. I should have found it earlier in life, but it was lucky I had found it then. I promised myself that wherever I ended up after leaving OU, I would stay involved with the theater.

Obviously, I broke that promise.

That December was when I got the internship in Boston: my mealticket. Which, working nights and weekends as a copy editor, meant the only theater I could hope for was catching a Sunday matinee.

Now, as I take my career path on yet another direction, I think it's for the best I forgot my stage dreams as quickly as I got them. Journalism did take me to three corners of the country, whereas theater probably would have gotten me as far as northwest Arkansas, and I would have made even less money than I would have with film. You can even tell where I am now: I write "theater" rather than "theatre," unless part of a proper noun.

I love "Six Women," but if the show is ever playing near me, I don't think I'll go. There's no way it would be as good for me.

Same with working for a theater company again. I think it would be different now. I'm different now. Maybe someday I'll be called back to the theater, but for now the theatre is dark.


LF: $102.82