The McCollumn - 4/8: "Support theatre, support these kids"

Last Friday, I had the pleasure and honor to once again take part in a stage production with the Opelika High School Theatre Society in a small walk cameo in their musical, “Sweeney Todd.”

I was in the OHTS during my time at Opelika, taking part in six productions of various genre and caliber.

I loved my time with the OHTS. It was a huge part of making me the well-rounded, slightly odd person I am today.

However, Friday night, I was able to look at the show and the theatre program from an outsider’s perspective.

I’m not high school Cliff any more. I’m an adult now, or so I keep telling myself.

The kids were all walking around with an air of nervous energy, fully trying to center themselves and pay attention to their cues and jobs as actors and technical crew.

I was wandering around trying not to get in the way, rather unsuccessfully, I might add.

We have a tendency to mythologize our own pasts, making memories and stories seem much more grandiose and interesting than they actually were.

While I remember my theatre days for the good times and great stories that came from them, I was blown away by the acting skills and talent levels seen in the kids in this production.

We weren’t as good as they were ... well, Patrick Winegar was, but I certainly wasn’t.

They have an air of professionalism and purpose guiding their actions and decisions. Back in my day, I was just there because it was fun and it was something to do.

Colin MacDougall, a dear old friend and fellow former actor, was also a guest actor Friday, making my journey through memory lane thankfully not be a solitary one.

We kept making comments about how we were feeling deja vu and reminisced about old war stories from our days.

We looked around at these kids and realized how old we’ve gotten. We may have only graduated in 2004, but those kids made us feel ancient.

While we were putting finishing touches on our costumes in the dressing room, some of the current crop of actors started chatting with us, asking us about things back when we were in theatre.

We talked about our favorite shows and casts, stories about famous directorial freakouts and the wonder that was Wally Moon.

I was surprised to notice that the kids were actually listening to what we had to say, nodding and grinning, even laughing in the appropriate places.

One of them, Jason Jones, even commented that he came and saw the production of “Fiddler on the Roof” the theatre society put on during our senior year.

“That’s one of the reasons why I did theatre,” Jones said. “I wanted to do what you guys did.”

I’m not normally left at a loss for words, but Jason’s floored me.

We may not have been great, but to a pre-teen kid, we were something to shoot for, people to be looked up to.

I’ve always maintained that people telling me things like that always terrifies me. I’ve never been one who’s wanted to be looked up to; if you’re looking up to me, you need to reprioritize your life and find better role models.

Bad as we may have been, though, a few people got something from it. We touched a few lives, made some folks smile or cry or feel some sort of emotion, a goal for all true artists.

We may not have been perfect, but, I suppose, we got the job done.

This current crop of kids, however - they’re the real deal, folks.

They’re committed, they’re hard-working and they’re trying to put on a show known for its difficult lyrics and music.

In an era of dwindling budgets and proration, programs like the theatre society will probably be first on the chopping block during budget talks.

Support these kids, readers. Go and see this show, even if musical theatre isn’t your thing.

It means the world to these students to be able to put shows like this.

I know it did for me, and I want these folks and the ones who come after them to get as good as what I got, if not better.