Junkies. Bacon. Balm.

For those who have paid visit to Twisty before, you probably know that I’m a bit of a theater hack. Many of my formative years were spent on the local community theater stage, smooshed into an ill-fitting costume, sweating under the amber #9 gels and belting out the hits of Rodgers and Hammerstein. Also, I was lucky enough to do a wee bit of television and regional theater work on the side. But for now, let’s put aside that professional stuff and concentrate on schlock.

I thought I would give you a glimpse into the glamorous world of college theater.

Bring on the Balm

The year was 1997. The setting was my alma mater, a prestigious, little liberal arts college out in the middle of nowhere. I was a theater major. (Actually I was a double major in theater and something else. The something else was intended to help me to ultimately land an actual day job – and to stop my dad from hyperventilating each time he received a hefty tuition bill.)

The theater majors and theater enthusiasts were a small but feisty bunch. Also, despite frequently giving into our desires for beer, raucous partying and all things naughty, we all had a professional aesthetic and an eagerness to present high-quality material. As such, the hard core dramatists were all pretty tickled when it was announced that Lanford Wilson’s Balm in Gilead was to be part of the upcoming season.

For those unfamiliar (I was at the time), Balm in Gilead is a play set in an all-night coffee shop in the big, bad city. It’s the story of one couple’s survival in an atmosphere of drug use and depression, who get kicked in the teeth by life at every available opportunity. (A far better synopsis appears here.) The play is frequently described as “gritty American realism” at its best.

So, naturally when you think of the city's most depraved folks desperately and misguidedly reaching for the American dream, you think of liberal arts students, right?

Thankfully drama professor and the play’s director, David Holt* was a good one -- well known in artsy circles for the daring and quality productions he brought to the off-Broadway stage. If anyone could mold us – the great overeducated -- into a group of soulless, gun-wielding degenerates longing for our next fix, he could.

Baaaaaacon!

I was cast as Kay, the surly waitress. A college drama diva with an unprecedented two-year run as drama club President, I was a bit put off by the less-than-juicy role. However, I quickly put the disappointment behind me, as I was able to do my homework during rehearsal and get more time at the bars. (Yay!)

Rehearsals never ceased to amuse in that performances ranged from inspired to almost laughable. One one hand, one guy’s haunting and heroin-soaked rendition of "Balm in Gilead" (to clarify: the name of the play, a bible passage and a song) gave you chills. On the other hand, another guy’s turn as a crazy-eyed, plastic knife-wielding hit man brought to mind those lame-o horror films peppered with zesty commentary by Elvira.

Very early in the design process, Holt insisted that he wanted the place to feel authentic. To our amazement, our overworked and woefully underpaid set designer came through by building a real, working diner.

Seriously. We had a grill on stage. Actors were served all the greasy toast and butter-soaked eggs they could shake a fork at. They were also treated to coffee on demand and endless supply of smokes.

Soon – vegans be damned! – bacon was added to the list, as the director thought it important to the atmosphere. It was a hoot hearing him yell from the back of the darkened theater, “Gimmee more o’ that bacon smell!” to which the “chef” (also an actor) would toss more piglet parts on the grill.

For a while, it was like heaven. I watched the timing, dished out the food when needed and got to take in all of the craziness around me. Delightful!

It was only a few weeks into rehearsal when things started to change.

Goodbye Goodies. Hello Lavatory.

Now, you have to remember, there is one fundamental truth about college kids – We are gluttons. There’s never enough beer, food or money. If there is a resource, we will damned well find a way to squander it.

Cigarette smoking, though not required, was an option for the actors. Before the rehearsals, actors were invited to take the cigarettes they would need for the course of the show from a large carton or Marlboro Lights purchased by the stage manager. Within days, actors began stuffing every available pocket with the free tobacco booty and the stage became cloudier than Scotland in the rainy season.

As a way to slow down the little chimneys, Holt had the brilliant idea of buying Jacks-brand, at that time the cheapest, nastiest cigarettes you could buy. To his dismay, the chain smoking continued but was now interspersed with fits of phlegmy coughing. (Yum!)

The coffee was next to go. It seems that the power of free java was just too much temptation. The hot beverage was soon replaced by cost-effective, flat generic-brand soda served up in ceramic cafeteria mugs.

Starch was soon on the list of cutbacks, as bread was hard to store owing to mold.

The only thing that seemed to stick was the bacon. There could never seem to be enough bacon. So, most days the actors got served a bacon-soaked quarter slice of bread topped with bacon-accented eggs and an 8-inch pile of hickory smoked bacon on the side.

It was only towards the end of the run did I notice the strange, little handle on our large, flat metal grill.

For many nights in a row I stared at it, wondering about its origins. Finally curiosity got the best of me and I asked the set designer what that was about.

“Old bathroom door. Got it at the physical plant,” he said unceremoniously, then walked away.

So, basically five days a week for three months we slugged back flat soda, chain-smoked cheap cigarettes, clogged our arteries with bacon-y soaked goodness and ate food gently simmered on the bathroom door grill?

Yes. 

And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

* Names have been changed.

Comments

[Mike Hill]

I graduated with a degree in theatre in 1970. Nothing has changed.

Terrific post.

[TJ]

I'm so glad to hear it. I would give just about anything to be back there right now.

Thanks for your kind comment! You made my day.