Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying

Monday night at Orem High was the senior musical theater showcase. I was going to have a solo as I mentioned in my previous post, but that didn't exactly turn out. I still wanted to support my friends, though, so I grabbed my sister and we headed over to the school. The showcase was scheduled to start at 6:00 pm; we got there at 6:06 to find a small line. The showcase had not even started.

My sister found us a seat while I went up to the auditorium technician's booth. In an auditorium, especially Orem High's, I am first and foremost a techie. I found that they were having the worst nightmare I'd ever seen. All the wireless mikes were limited to about five or six. Out of eleven to fifteen. The rest were missing. There was one wireless god mike that the crew had only recently obtained. No one was ready. Mike checks were going on back stage. Cameron Ashby, one of my best friends and the current light op, asked me to help out. I went down to the stage and headed to the back to find what I can only describe as a herd of headless chickens. Everyone was running around in a panicked frenzy. No one knew where anything or anyone was. I helped some actors put their mikes on and helped organize. Jenna Pinager asked what time it was. I looked. It was 6:20. The show still had not started.

Although I came to watch the show, I ended up doing it. I spent most of the first hour running all around the school to get from one side of the stage to the other doing mike jobs and shutting people up. The thing about the wireless mikes was that they all had to be on. At the same time. Which meant that the actor had to keep quiet or the whole audience would hear the latest gossip about Dick and Jane. Silence was not easily achieved during costume changes or mike swaps. And there was no mike plot. It was nerve-wracking, and it made you feel like you were in a high-suspense horror film.

At one point, a girl with Downs named Andy Phesy had to go on and do her Les Miz solo without her wireless mike. I spent the last thirty seconds of the song before her frantically hunting down the god mike, figuring out how to unmute it without alerting the entire audience, and praying that it would work as I sent her off.

She sang into it and the mike worked beautifully. "There is a God," I whispered.

Suddenly I found myself running into the techie booth in a burst of epiphany to a group of half-Mormons, half-athiests. "There is a God!!! I want you all to know that! There is a God, and He listens to the little people, even me, who have no right to speak with Him, He listens anyway, and He exists, and He is the reason Andy can sing right now!" I was estatic. They looked at me like I'd lost it. Standing there in a damp undershirt, eyes wild, and brain-shot from the constant stress I'd been under for the past sixty minutes, they were probably right.

I turned, seeing the house lights go up for intermission. In many ways, I was suddenly not so depressed that I couldn't have my solo. Then I didn't have to be a part of the madness. And I was a lot more comfortable backstage than on it. Admittedly, I was very pleased with my work behind the scenes. Do your part to save the scene and stop going to shows.

The second hour passed by a lot easier. By the time things winded down to the last two songs, I was completely spent. It felt like someone had hit me with a two-by-four and then a sack of bricks. The last two songs were done only by seniors, until the last minute of the finale. When I realized what was going on, I went into awe-mode. Adam Millington was playing "Will I" on his guitar according to the flow chart.

My first clue should have been that the finale was "Seasons of Love" from Rent. Seniors slowly trickled onto the stage, singing...

"Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?"

I gasped. It was "Finale B". I felt my heart throb.

"Will I wake tomorrow//From this//Nightmare?"

I started singing from offstage, when suddenly I saw Jenna. Seeing the hopeful look on my face, she beckoned my onward. I stepped into the light, taking off my brown overshirt. Brian gave a slight smile. "Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?" I looked into the audience. It was all a blinding flash of light. "Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare? Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"

Before I knew it, I was in the middle of the finale. The spotlights alternated. The voices went up.

"Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights? In sunsets? In midnights? In cups of coffee?
In inches? In miles? In laughter and strife?
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?"

The piano crashed.

"How about looovvvveeeee.......
How about lllllooooooovvvvvvveeeeee...."

We started clapping and swaying.

"How about love?
Measure in love...
Seasons of love....."

Jenna and Dave stepped forward. Jenna began,

Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand journeys to plan!
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes..."

Jenna cracked a bit. I turned to her. I realized that she was holding back sobs.

"...How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?" she finished.

Dave stayed in character as he wrapped her in his arms, and sang Collins:

"In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died..."

Syd. Syd Riggs.

"It's time now," we clapped, "to sing out
For the story never ends
Let's celebrate,
Remember a year in the life of friends...

Remember the love..."

Jenna gave it all she had. Her last, final time. She gave it all. "Oh, you've got to, you've got to, you've got to remember the love! Remember the love!"

I lost feeling in my swaying legs and clapping hands as I lent my imperfect voice to the tearful harmonies.

"You measure in love," sang Jenna. "Know that love is a gift from up above..."

Love... It was too much. Too much. Too much.

"Share love, give love, spread love..." Jenna gave the high note one last belt. "Measure your life, measure your life in love..."

Her shining moment blew me away. We all finished it.

"...Seasons of love....
Seasons of love."

The red curtain--once my red curtain--closed delicatly. It was like a dream. Suddenly everyone except me was coupled in someone's arms crying. Eric Sackett was the guy crying the hardest. Tears were in everyone's eyes to one degree or another (except mine, I don't do crying apparently). In fact, the guys were collectively more emotional than any of the girls. Everyone was hugging everyone. "It's over, it's over, no more..." the air sang. Everyone knew it. Everyone was saying it. "It's over. I can't believe that it's really all over."

I hugged person after person. "Brian, man, you are awesome. Jenna, thank you for letting me come on. Thank you, I love you. Jordon, I love you--in a very...friendly way...you know! Katylin...Eric...Jake...Jeff! Jeff...Thank you. For everything. "

We grasped each other so tightly. "I am a better person to have known you, Jeff Smith," I whispered.

And worse than any two-by-four or sack of bricks, it hit me.

This was really it. This was the end.