Good Grief, John Boy - Part Two
It's a good thing that my friend Boomie is not a crook, because if she were, I'd probably have a rap sheet a mile long. The fact is, I have a hard time saying "No" to her and having it stick. My first stage managing gig was for her, years ago. "Clinton, I need a stage manager. You'd be great."
When performance came, Boomie decided she wanted the show called. [All cues (light, sound, SPFX, etc.) go on the SM's signal instead of the individual operators just doing it.] Since I was both stage manager and backstage runcrew, I ended up calling the show from backstage, savagely whispering on a faulty headset, unable to see any cue that I had just signalled. "Light Cue 14, Go! Did it go? Did it go? Light Cue 15, Go! Did it go? Somebody talk to me!"
In fact, my second stage management gig was for Boomie. She was directing an adaptation of a Walton's episode called "The Conflict" about mountain neighbors of the Waltons resisting the construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway through their home. We did it outdoors, at a Nelson County vineyard, at the end of the summer/beginning of fall. That meant lugging and toting; setting up chairs; wrangling kid actors; fighting bees, wasps, and mosquitoes; and sweating in the daylight before getting chilled at night. On top of it all, I ended up (as well as being stage manager) playing the government flunky, Slim. Yes ... Slim.
(Okay, truth be told, I was younger and thinner then, so it wasn't that bad. Plus I got to shoot John Boy and I got a signed picture from Earl ... I'm pretty sure the two weren't directly related.)
A couple of weeks ago Boomie called me. Peter Coy and Larry Hugo had gotten some grants and rolled up their sleaves and had converted a couple of rooms in the Rockfish Valley Community Center in Nelson County into a small, black box theater. Boomie was directing their inaugural production, a new adaptation of Earl Hamner, Jr.'s The Homecoming, a Spencer family novella. It's Christmas, 1933 and Clay Spencer is late coming home from his job in Charlottesville. It's the Depression and there are almost no local jobs, almost no money, and now maybe no Clay. Is he trying to get home? Is he neglecting his family for drink and other companionship? Will there be a Christmas this year?
So Boomie calls me. "Clinton, what are you doing these days? ... Just working, nothing else? ... well Peter Coy and Larry Hugo; Earl Hamner, Jr. and Nelson County; blah, blah, blah. Everyone thinks Clay's stopped to join this poker game at the local Black church, and there's this wonderful scene in the second act where Clay Boy goes to the church looking for his father and interrupts Christmas Eve service. And there's this reverend, Hawthorne Dooley, who points out to Clay Boy that they all worship the same God, tells him some things he didn't know about his father, and sends him on his way. It's a very touching scene. It calls for a Black man who can sing, and I immediately thought of you. What do you say? You'd be great."
When performance came, Boomie decided she wanted the show called. [All cues (light, sound, SPFX, etc.) go on the SM's signal instead of the individual operators just doing it.] Since I was both stage manager and backstage runcrew, I ended up calling the show from backstage, savagely whispering on a faulty headset, unable to see any cue that I had just signalled. "Light Cue 14, Go! Did it go? Did it go? Light Cue 15, Go! Did it go? Somebody talk to me!"
In fact, my second stage management gig was for Boomie. She was directing an adaptation of a Walton's episode called "The Conflict" about mountain neighbors of the Waltons resisting the construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway through their home. We did it outdoors, at a Nelson County vineyard, at the end of the summer/beginning of fall. That meant lugging and toting; setting up chairs; wrangling kid actors; fighting bees, wasps, and mosquitoes; and sweating in the daylight before getting chilled at night. On top of it all, I ended up (as well as being stage manager) playing the government flunky, Slim. Yes ... Slim.
(Okay, truth be told, I was younger and thinner then, so it wasn't that bad. Plus I got to shoot John Boy and I got a signed picture from Earl ... I'm pretty sure the two weren't directly related.)
A couple of weeks ago Boomie called me. Peter Coy and Larry Hugo had gotten some grants and rolled up their sleaves and had converted a couple of rooms in the Rockfish Valley Community Center in Nelson County into a small, black box theater. Boomie was directing their inaugural production, a new adaptation of Earl Hamner, Jr.'s The Homecoming, a Spencer family novella. It's Christmas, 1933 and Clay Spencer is late coming home from his job in Charlottesville. It's the Depression and there are almost no local jobs, almost no money, and now maybe no Clay. Is he trying to get home? Is he neglecting his family for drink and other companionship? Will there be a Christmas this year?
So Boomie calls me. "Clinton, what are you doing these days? ... Just working, nothing else? ... well Peter Coy and Larry Hugo; Earl Hamner, Jr. and Nelson County; blah, blah, blah. Everyone thinks Clay's stopped to join this poker game at the local Black church, and there's this wonderful scene in the second act where Clay Boy goes to the church looking for his father and interrupts Christmas Eve service. And there's this reverend, Hawthorne Dooley, who points out to Clay Boy that they all worship the same God, tells him some things he didn't know about his father, and sends him on his way. It's a very touching scene. It calls for a Black man who can sing, and I immediately thought of you. What do you say? You'd be great."
posted by - caj at 8:22 AM
3 Comments:
so, lemme guess. You either didn't say "no" or it didn't stick?
Oh no. So now you get to drive down to Nelson county in the snow... you really ARE a theatre slut (as in, you just can't say no.) What would Cville do without you?
Sounds perfect. So, next time I see you, if I want to hear you sing, I should somehow get in touch with Boomie first and get her to ask you?
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