The first Music Circus's show this season is a kid's specialty, The Wizard of Oz. Keep in mind, the 'kids' watching the show ranged in age from 4 years to say, 85 years. I'm in the later 1/3 of the range. The musical's music was straight out of the famous 1949 movie, the performances were magical, and there wasn't an un-enchanted theater goer in the house.
Last night I ushered a second Sunday night performance of The Wizard of Oz . I was surprised to be as tickled and happy watching the show a second time as I was for the first. I'm still a rookie usher, being 'on call' and I've been doing this for more than ten years. The 'old pro' ushers have been at it as long as 33 years. Tonight was interesting because for the first time in my experience, something happened.
First off, I was working on aisle 14, which is a big deal as it is a main aisle where props are brought on in & out and almost all the actors leave or enter the aisle at one point or another. So, you have to have an eye out to keep audience members exiting during the show, so they do not collide with Cowardly Lions, Good Witches or the odd giant head of Oz.
Another point is, every musical has a 'hold' time just after the play begins. The entry - aisle - doors are shut and any late patrons cannot be seated. They have to wait in the hall with an usher, then when the blue hall lights flash, the usher can show them in. Holds can be as short as 5, or as long as 15 minutes.
So here we go! As I saw the start of the musical last week, last night I volunteered for the first hold before anyone even asked. The Music Circus is theater -in-the-round, so being in the hall is like being back stage in a normal theater. I love it there!
|And Toto Too? Totos two!|
Because I was in the hall I was able to learn a closely guarded secret of theater puppy magic - there are a pair of terriers that cover the famous role of Toto. So now you know; Toto too? Totos Two!
|Marvel with wienie|
I could tell something was up - a man was in the aisle, squating, holding a kid. The entire row of patrons - adults and tots - were up & down, scurrying within the confines of the row. I gazed at the kerfuffle in horrified amazement, and wondering how they were going to leave - if that's what they were up to, as door 14 was entirely blocked by Professor Marvel's wagon.
I jumped up, and with my flashlight encouraged the family that was rapidly flowing into the aisle, to follow me. As I lead them to a side exit, I noted a teeny little blondie boy just behind me - his face was beet red face and looked like he’d been crying. Figured the whole experience was too much for his tiny soul, & it was just as well they got him out before the witch showed up in a ball of smoke.
As they filed out the side door, one little group cowered just inside the door. I asked if I could assist them, and with her eyes locked on the main stage the Mom said, , ' we don't want to leave, but a boy threw up...'.
Suddenly it was all too clear! Clean up, Aisle 14 - Small child exploded!
Happily, the house was only 80% full, so I lead them across aisle 14 and over to empty seats I'd passed on my way into the theater only minutes earlier. There I left them and returned to my own seat. Whew! It was over for me, but not for the theater. While the play ran on without a single pause or hitch, theater clean up people crawled in and out that blighted aisle, returning again and again with rags, buckets, mops, bottles of disenfectant and 'odor be gone dang you' sprays. It went on right up until the intermission when even more crew, buckets and mops materialized to clean in earnst, without having to worry about the people behind them.
Oh how sorry I felt for all the people seated for three rows behind 'ground zero'.
At intermission, our usher leader asked me to meet with him after the show. I panicked - had I done something wrong? I thought over what happened and frankly, I didn't do anything wrong, but with my brain, why live care free when you can sweat bullets for naught? After the show Aisle 14's ushers met with our fearless leader, who 'debriefed' us on the evening's events. We actually knew far more about it all than he did, as he wasn't anywhere near our area during the big ado. My co-ushers praised my actions for the evening and that made me feel I've made amends for last year's seating bomb.
In a final unexpected theater ado for this evening, one of the theater staff reported an unwanted theater goer marched up and down a doorway leading into the Circus. The staff member bravely managed to convince the littlest theater mavin to go elsewhere with its load o' stink.
[Management wishes to announce, the role of the Music Circus Skunk here on the right, is played by a equally unwanted nocturnal visitor at Auntie Barbara's house a month or so ago. The stand-in was paid in untended cat food.]