A Few Quick Stories

Before I move on to talk about College, I have a few more miscellaneous stories from my High School days.

Back in the Olde Days of the early 1970’s we used powered pigments in our scene paint.
The dry pigment needed to be mixed into a water and glue mix.
The glue was dry crystals of horse hooves mixed with water and heated slowly in a double boiler.
We had no stove near the stage so we used the metal shop right across the hall.
We used the gas burners meant to be used to melt lead or heat large soldering irons.
Not really knowing what we were doing one day when we tried to light the gas jet there was a flash back of flame that burnt all the hairs off the arm of the girl who was trying to light it.
It did not hurt her but scared the hell of her and the others in the shop.
Once our hearts started to beat again we all had a big laugh, although I do not think that Carol thought it was funny.

Years later we would learn about all the bad elements and heavy metals in the dry pigments that we used to mix with our hands.

One of our fun tricks to pull on new crew members was to have them wash one of the colored lighting gels.
Back in those days the gels were really made from gelatin.
We would send out to wash the very important and ”Last” sheet of gel.
They were always instructed to use slightly warm water and rub gently, and of course they would come back with a big wad of melted goo.
Sometimes they would come back in tears thinking they had ruined it, but most times they would just throw it at you and you had to move quick.

There were some perks being on the Stage Crew.
I remember being called out of class by the Principle and asked to meet him on the stage.
What trouble was I in?
What had we done and finally get caught, I had no idea.
It seems that there was going to be some event on the stage and nobody knew how to turn on the light board.
All I had to do was push in the big handle that connected the three blade switch that gave off a nice big spark.

One day I got a cut slip for missing a class and had to go to the Dean's office ,when I walked in the secretary just looked up at me and said: “Oh, you’re on the stage crew” and told me to leave.
I wish I could remember what class I had cut and I what had done, I only hope it was fun.

There are other stories that are only fragments of memory now, maybe they will come back or someone will remind me, but for now I think I will start the telling of my adventures in College.