Despite the fact that it was late June, depressing clouds had dimmed the usual enthusiastic brightness of the weather, while the humidity remained, resulting in a dull, bland, unexciting atmosphere. To make matters worse, inside the theater, a scene was being re-blocked for the third or possibly the forth time: an intolerably boring process for all not involved in the scene. It was time for a pick-me-up.
Picking up his long bamboo stick which happened to have a rubber chicken attached to the end, one of the bored, leading actors made his way outside and crouched behind a parked car. When he heard the sputtering of a car engine nearing, his head popped up into view from behind the car, bearing his "chicken onna stick" and an expression to disturb any driver. He repeated this process each time a car came by, and as his energy fed on the responses from the poor drivers, he began to go farther into the routine: running out into the street, chasing the cars, yelling and screaming indecipherable phrases, all the while waving his dangerous poultry topped weapon. The director, hearing the screams and cackles of laughter coming from outside stuck his head out and said simply, "Nick, stop scaring the people." And camp resumed.
Such an occurrence was common through out the Impact Arts! acting camps and classes, rather than alarming. Instead of responding with apprehension and fear, the rest of the campers joined Nick at their first opportunity, during lunch, making as many chicken onna sticks as they could, and even crafting a special stick topped with a rubber foot and then taking the whole tribe outside to chase cars and trucks and laugh hysterically at the double-takes and the disbelief of the passing passengers.
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The first day of camp was always a very important one. But then again, so was the last day. And the days in-between.
The first day was filled with mystery and uncertainty and-
"MITCH!!!"
And names.
"IT'S SETH! HI SETH HI SETH!
"OH MY GOD KIERA I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN TWO MILLION YEARS"
"MITCH MITCH MITCH"
"ANNANANANANANANANANANANANANANA!"
The first day was filled with dozens of teenagers pouncing on each other, screaming each others names. Though some names were yelled more often than others.
"MITCH! Hey everybody, HOT POCKET"
"MITCH!!!!!!!"
Once that was taken care of, it was time to circle up. Note cards and stubs of pencils were passed out. Each person was to write things like their name, age, experience, individual talents, and most importantly, two truths and a lie. This was a perfect chance to show off your personality and if you managed to write your statements so that they captured the growing silliness of the environment, they could serve as an ice breaker when they were read outloud. Because this piece of writing was so valuable, you would often plan out your perfect statements months in advance, only to completely forget them when the moment arrived.
"1. My name, translated twice, means Bach." True. This would later be worked into a stand up comedy routine and only the campers were understand why it was funny that he said, "Bach."
"2. I have seen a sign that said 'Support Toast,' on it." True. Giggles.
"3. I have never had a director who, after swearing he would not stop rehearsal unless it was an emergency, stopped the rehearsal 31 times." False. In the previous camp, the director had a reputation for micromanaging and being unable to let the actors rehearse without interruption. When he swore that he would not interrupt, bets were made as to how many times he would stop the show.
"I bet five."
"No way. WAY more than that. I bet 15. " A tally was started backstage. The total came to 31. As half the current camp had participated in that show, the room burst into laughter, the ice officially broken.
Looking around the circle (or the jellybean as it was often called because the campers never managed to create anything that resembled a circle) was a fascinating experience. For the most part, these kids only saw each other at these camps, and then would go months, possibly years, without seeing each other again. Seeing them so infrequently, it was easy to see them grow up, without realizing that you were doing the same thing. When they did see each other again, voices had deepened, hair had been cut or grown longer, clothing styles had changed. You wondered if these were the same people. But they were.
"Let's play 90-second alphabet."
"Laura choose somebody."
"Seth! Get up here."
In 90 second alphabet, the first sentence said must start with an A, the second with a B, etc, the goal being to continue this process to the end of the alphabet in just 90 seconds, which was a rare achievement. The scene given to Laura and Seth was that they were being abducted by aliens. Somehow, the two raced through the easy letters, and even the difficult letters did not stop them. Perhaps because reason wasn't important to them.
"Uh..."
"Vacuum!"
"What?"
"Xylophone!"
"Yeah?"
"Zip!"
They did it! They went all the way to the end of the alphabet AND used the word Zip in the process. Double-kudos.
And so went the games and exercises until lunch time. Mitch and the other interns left the group early to begin micro-waving pizzas and hot-pockets to feed the hungry campers. Everybody grabbed their shoes, their lunches, and headed outside. Through an open window, a very old and out of tune piano could be heard, always played by the same guy, and it was always the same tune. Some people loved it and it drove others crazy. He never seemed to stop. Eventually, somebody made use of the talent and got the guy to play a keyboard before the performance as background music.
Through the same open window, Mitch would stick his head out, holding somebody's lunch.
"HOT-POCKET!"
"MITCH!!!"
"MITCH!!!!!!!"
"MITCH MITCH MITCH MITCH"
Nearly the entire camp ate lunch outside, sitting in a circle on the lawn. Sitting inside was often warmer than sitting outside as the building contained zero air (HOT-POCKET!! MITCH!!) conditioning (except for upstairs where the executives lived). Those who traveled elsewhere for food were secretly frowned upon for separating themselves from the rest. There were no cliques. Cliques meant lessening the time you spent getting to know each individual. If you didn't feel comfortable with each and every individual, participating in a game or a skit or a performance with them would feel uncomfortable. This discomfort handicapped your ability to perform your absolute best, whether it be in front of a group of twenty kids your age, or a group of a hundred audience members. It was to the campers advantage that they be on close terms with each and every other camp member.
"Mmmm... pudding."
"Seth, come climb the tree with us."
("HOT POCKET")
"Hang on guys, I gotta take my vitamins."
("MITCH!!")
"Uh... Seth.... Why are your vitamins in a Healthy Woman package?" Awkward silence.
"Is there something you have to tell us Seth?"
Lunch was also a time to bounce ideas off one another: some good some not so good.
"So for Phantom, we're gonna have Warren sing this awesome song that he made up and then something stops him--
"You should have the Phantom be like, 'Pizza's here!' "
"Yeah! And Madam Giry could say, 'I do not enjoy cheese' "
"YES! LET'S DO IT!"
"Oh, I was thinking, Elizabeth, you should have one of the games you list be Parcheesi. Cause Parcheesi is a funny word."
"And then she could say, 'I do not enjoy Parcheesi.' "
"Haha! Wait... what?"
"MITCH! Par-CHEESE-y. "
"OH WAIT I GET IT HAHAH THAT'S SO GOOD."
But you were never supposed to say no to an idea. It was too negative.
"We should do "the sixth stench" for the movie spoof."
"Uh. No."
"Hey!"
"Oh, sorry. I mean, Yes And.... let's do something else."
Saying, "Yes and" was the positive alternative to no. But that got stale fast when really the director just wanted to say no. Instead he and the interns formed their own way of saying things that had a sort of positive spin on them.
"Ideas for this scene?"
"How about they are in a salad?"
"...Possibly." That meant no.
"They are stuck on a desert island with rabid dachshunds."
"Ehh..... Next idea?" Translation: possibly.
"They are being abducted by aliens?"
".....You guys pick."
" I like the dachshunds one."
"No, pick a different one."
"Richard!!!"
The director, Richard, could be intolerable at times. It was often said that one could tell which jokes were written by Richard by how much physical pain you were in after you heard them. For example, when putting on the show "Socks! The musical," (an eight minute skit, entirely about socks, with no plot) Richard decided that the five actors should wear bald caps and be five toes searching for a sock.
"Wouldn't that be cool?"
"I like it."
"What do you think?"
"No comment."
"Okay, so we're doing the toe idea right?"
"RICHARD! No. Just..no. I don't care if you're the director. I say no. That's final."
Unfortunately, his talent for inventing horrible puns and scenes that made no logical or comical sense rubbed off on the interns.
"Okay, scene."
"But mom! What about the goat?"
"Honey, it was just a goat."
"Oh oh oh, cut! I know what you should say! You should say, 'Remember what the family therapist said, you have to let Go...t. hahahaha!"
"MITCH!
"Baaaaaaaaaaad."
"No! Now I'm in even more physical pain."
Despite his bad jokes and bad influence the kids loved him. He had the ability to find individuals' talents and use them. If someone could juggle to some degree, he'd have them start the show wearing a jesters costume, juggling to classical music, even if it had nothing to do with the rest of the play.
Richard also had a habit of starting all his shows the same way. He was obsessed with the idea of pre-historic beings. One show began with people curled up and then unfolding to strange music, taking on pre-historic characters. In another, animal personas imerged from offstage to strange music. In others, characters came on as fairies, chattering to each other incoherently, or coming on as citizens at a bazaar, again chattering to each other in gibberish, or coming on yet AGAIN as animal personas with strange music playing, saying nothing. The comedy shows were always more effective and understandable and less repetitive as it was the kids who came up with the material.
And this is how afternoons were spent. One could walk from room to room and listen to skits in all different stages of developing.
"Hi! I'm Birch Fergason with the weather and let me tell you it's gonna be so hot later on today that you're just gonna wanna rip off all your clothes....."
"I'm french! Bang bang! Bang bang...."
"But wouldn't that make you jesus?...."
"Uncle Fred, How are babies made?...."
"Insolent boy, this slave of talkshows, basking in my, I mean your, glory..."
"It was a tuesday. The kind of tuesday that came before a wednesday and right after a monday. Any way you looked at it, it was a tuesday...."
"Jimminy Crickets! There's nothing like stuff...."
As nonsensical as it all was, it was leading up to a performance after just eight days of rehearsing, for six hours a day.
The same turquoise chairs were set up on the carpet for every performance. Campers were recruited to be ushers (which only entailed handing out programs). The gigantic fan would whir on endlessly and pointlessly as no amount of moving the hot air around would make it any cooler. And audience members would slip a five dollar bill into the Kyle and Bryan Memorial Scholorship Fund.
Kyle and Bryan, two amazing young men who were once part of Impact Arts! and all that it stands for were killed in a tragic car accident. The event shook the community, the director, the parents. Some campers did not want to return as it was too painful to relive the memories of the lost boys. The founders held a Celebration of Life at the theater, where campers and parents were brought together to share memories. Like of the time Kyle did a scene saying only the phrases, "All my friends are one-legged gypsies," and, "I do not enjoy cheese." Or the time Bryan managed to cut his finger nearly in half as he attempted to get the last of the hair gel out of the container with a knife. Every show after that was dedicated to the boys, and there were always collection jars in their name ready and waiting by the door at the beginning of every performance.
Although the shows were extremely amusing, what was often funnier was backstage or in the cafeteria, where the actors-who-are-at-rest-stay-at-rest were hanging out. Jacob might be showing off his ability to sound like an old Jewish woman. "He was like a slab o' buttah." Or Kaya might be filling her top hat with confetti and putting on her candy-cane striped stockings. Or Seth and Sean might be searching frantically for a prop they needed desperately, only to give up and use a completely different prop to the extreme amusement of the rest of the campers.
During one performance , the Wizard of Stuff, Dotty, the Pillow, the Robot, and the Cowardly Liar carried out their usual interaction.
"Hey wait a second, you're just a guy behind a lawn gnome."
"....PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE GNOME!"
"Can we please have some stuff?"
"IF I GAVE YOU MY STUFF, WOULD I HAVE ANY?"
"No... ooh... we don't want you to have any stuff." Dotty and the others began to sob.
"Wait! stop!" And the Wizard appeared from above, as he was supposed to. But as he began singing his song, "Don't cry for me Target Shoppers," Dotty and the others noticed that there was a rubber hamster tied to his wrist. It provoked the memory of the performance of the younger kids, in which the entire cast had waved these hamsters about singing, "The hamsters my friend are blowin' in the wind. The hamsters are blowin' in the wind." None of them knew what had provoked the Wizard to tie the fake hamster to his wrist, but as a result, the other cast members had a very difficult time keeping a straight face.
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Nick, again holding his poultry-esque weapon, stood on stage, poking the stick this way and that at whoever tried to come near him. I joined him with a similar weapon of my own, yelling Shakespeare into his ear. When he did not listen, I yelled louder. Nick ran through cloth doors, a chorus sounding as he did to signify the holiness of the building he entered, and I began to follow. As I did, a cardboard sun, also attached to a bamboo stick, was bumped and was falling at an alarming speed towards my head. I dived through the curtains and landed backstage on my stomach as Nick and I shook with silent laughter.