Canterbury Techies

By Harrison

‘Twas opening night, everyone worried,

The cast and crew, most everyone hurried.

The play would begin at seven-thirty,

The set was built; God willed it’d be sturdy.

Twizzlers were flying all over backstage,

They tasted so sweet; they were all the rage

As the men in black began to devour,

The bag became dry, the clock struck the hour

Of the fateful time the play would begin

But shows always start late, to all’s chagrin.

Tonight’s tale is those of techies in blacks,

No matter the time they have actors’ backs.

There was a Stage Manager, head o’er crew

If there was a question, the answer he knew.

Tall, confident, and so crafty to boot,

He could fix all, no matter how minute.

He dressed in fine clothes the color of night,

Only that color would make the show right.

He deftly called cues with the greatest ease,

Like an acrobat on the flying trapeze.

With great cool and calm, the show would be fine,

Under his keen guide, the actors would shine.

He told all his Techies just what to do,

And, being Techies, they went right on cue.

Like the Deck Manager, running around.

Directing the run crew while on the ground.

Dressed in black and hunched over on her stool,

Her headset proved she was nobody’s fool.

Controlling scene changes was not so easy,

When freshmen can make it look so cheesy.

Managing with class, she had them in line,

All the flats and props moved on and off fine.

Heavy stuff and setpieces were no match

For she will excel whence comes the dispatch

From the Stage Manager in the booth on high,

She moved with a purpose so nimble and spry.

Stage left was her foil, the Fly Captain

He sent up the arbor, down came the batten

Or pipe some say, it matters not really

As long as the Captain can move freely.

Donned in the black regalia of the Tech,

The Captain could keep his flymen in check

As long as his cord was not tangled up

In the rail, on sets, or around a schlup.

Strong and imposing, he bent his tough will

On thirty lines that could easily kill

A hapless actor standing in the way

Or an unfortunate Techie offstage.

Any drops or flats that fell from the sky,

If they moved up or down, he was the guy

Who had pure control over the fly rail,

Smoothly in or out his battens would sail.

In the booth were two Board Operators,

One each for lights and sound, they were brokers

Of the plots drawn up by their Designers

Who gave great thought and care to the minors

That they bossed around with many a cue,

What was their goal? They left no one a clue.

All four of them dressed in at least black shirts,

The Board Ops possibly in jeans or shorts.

Those two at command of their consoles wide,

Designers resting on the couch beside

Their young wards, as now they had no true role,

Their jobs are naught once the show starts to roll,

Lastly, I will speak of the Followspots,

Their hunt of actors clear in the light plots.

They sit in the house, dressed only in black,

Any other hue and they’ll hear a crack

From their peers, who knew only that color,

Not wearing black makes one appear duller.

With nothing to do for most of the show,

They sit on black chairs, the action so slow.

Then their cue comes, and they spring to action.

Their lights could leave an actor in traction

If he pays no heed to the flat coming in,

For there’s a scene change in action behind him.

The actors are drawn to the spots’ lights so,

Like a bug lamp attracts the mosquito.

I have told the tale of the night passed by,

The Techies working as the time doth fly

Off the clock and now the show has ended,

The cues all called, the scene changes splendid.

The Techies prepare for tomorrow’s show,

But the question at hand: Now where do we go?

For it’s opening night and the crew must party

At a place where food and drink is hearty.

The normal spot is T.G.I. Friday’s,

And they’ll go there for the next two days

After tonight, as this is one of three,

But not the last night—that’s the “crast” party.

Rejoice, fellow Techies, your night is done,

Let your value to all never be none.

For without the Tech there could be no play,

Without drama, life’s no fun anyway.

A/N: I did not write this, but I think it was too good to just let it sit on this guy’s computer unnoticed. For any of my Angel readers…this is Tech XD. And as a techie I love this!