Act 1: The Theatre Is Dark

    May 2014
  School has been out since 22 May. G's graduation was 23 May.
    It is promptly 2 June, and I'm presently aware that it is summer.
    In those 10 Days, Genoa has graduated from high school, I logged in my final grades, pulled my desk out of my office and did the first office purge in 3 years, went over the set design for "Hairspray, Jr.", worried about the set designs for Harvey and Beauty and the Beast, had a sad budget meeting with the department chair, attended "New Teacher Training" at the DCPA, attended the Bobby G Awards, received a phone call from our instrumental music teacher which began with "I can't get the theatre lights on and it smells like something is burning", threw Genoa a graduation party, started lesson plans for both St Luke's and DCPA, checked and rechecked my calendar to make sure I wasn't missing something...and oh ya...briefly wished my husband HAPPY 25TH ANNIVERSARY.

     In the tradition of Gruesome Playground Injuries by Rajiv Joseph, I will tell the story out of order. Broken. Like my memory. And my spirit. ;)

     
      Thursday afternoon, 29 May, as I was cleaning the house and watching Bar Rescue, my cell phone rang.
      "Hi kryssi, it's Don. I'm in the theatre and I can't get the stage lights on. I was wondering if I was missing something."
       EXPOSITION: The dimmers started failing in October. We walked in on Halloween to a completely dark theatre. Many light instruments had melted as it appeared there was a power surge right before the dimmer(s) popped. This event killed our Stage Manager box and three dimmer packs. Since then you have to switch on three dimmer packs, a newly installed "oven switch" hard wired to the house lights, travel to the lights booth to get the stage lights on and flip the master switches for the work lights.
       The dimmer packs are old and the company that built them is out of business. They cannot be repaired except, according to the theatre light professional trying to fix the debacle, by some phantom man who lives in Canada. He is referenced as "There's a guy who lives in Canada who can repair these", but then nothing more is said. Or done. It's neat. And that is the abbreviated exposition.
        Also Note: I am not an electrician. But I play one daily at school.
        I know Don knows this routine, so I suspect he's done everything except check to see if any of the fuses were tripped. This is a thing that happens when the dimmer packs go blooey. "Did you check the fuse box by the dimmers?"
        "Yes, one of them has been tripped. I should reset it. Also I smell something burning."
         My brain is yelling "shit" at this point.
        "Don, it sounds like the dimmers are going again. Maybe you should just leave."
        "I have marching band on stage."
        Okay...
        "Try the fuse box in the light booth, the one on the wall."
        "Right! I didn't try that one."
         "Or, just leave. Something is burning."
         "I'll go try the one in the lights booth. Thanks."
         Don is one of the most positive people I know. He will flip every switch and reset every fuse before admitting defeat. Even if he smells something burning. Not snow nor rain nor searing heat, nor something burning that is likely electric will stop marching band rehearsal.
         "Call me back if it doesn't work, k? See you tonight."

         I did  not hear back from Don, but I did receive an email from our principal entitled "Theatre Lights: DO NOT USE" which began "Dear Friends". It ended with "Let's hope someone in the continental United States can fix this..." Somewhere in the middle of the email it is mentioned, casually, that there is ash by the dimmer packs, it smells of burnt "something", it appears one of the dimmers may have melted and the principal has now locked the dimmer cabinet.

         Now if you recall from the beginning of this post that this issue began in October. If you look at your calendar, it is June. In those seven months we managed to put up a musical, the seniors put up Lend Me A Tenor and we had Choir Pops, Instrumental Pops, Performing Arts Awards and Senior Convocation. We did it by turning on three dimmers, the oven switch, running to the booth, troubleshooting and backup planning when an electric failed, or turned itself on and off...and on again... and buying flashlights as a backup light source. Within days of school being over, the system decided to complete its death throes. Of course I can only hope that the district electricians shut down all power to the theatre before locking the wood doors six inches from failing, melting electrics.

       One of the reasons I had to clear out my office is that my floor is made of asbestos tiles. They must be waxed yearly, and according to the district environmental guy asbestos is misunderstood, and only dangerous if it is chipping, which my floor is, and waxing it yearly keeps the danger at bay. They haven't waxed my floor in three years. I can rest assured that if the theatre burns down, my office floor will be safe.

        So I got that going for me.