Sunday, September 7, 2008

Once More... With Feeling

File under: A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing...

After one last photo-op, I left my friends this morning, after making sure they had survived the end of the night of fortieth-birthday festivities. (They apparently stayed up until 4am. I had been asleep for 4 hours by then...) 

I headed south from their place (in Northeast South Dakota, just below that weird notch where Minnesota juts into South Dakota) to my parents' home in Southeast South Dakota (they still live in the same house I grew up in). It was a shorter trip than when I drive "home" from the Twin Cities--only 3.5 hours of driving--so I decided to make a side-trip through Brookings, SD, the town where I went to college from 1985-1989.

Over the past 19 years I've gotten a lot of alumni mailings telling me how much the college and the town have changed, but I hadn't gotten to see it for myself. So this was my chance, and since I wasn't on a schedule, I decided to take it. I pulled off the interstate in Brookings and headed down the streets without even looking at the names. I guess even 19 years away didn't really matter after living there for 4 years. 

I pulled into the parking lot near Pugsley Hall and took a look at the house I lived in for my senior year, then headed cross-country as I walked the campus. I took some pictures of buildings (including the Campanile and Sylvan Theater on the main green), noted the loss of the "Bunny Wash" laundromat, walked through the new Student Union and even circled the new Performing Arts Center, but found myself drawn to the old Admin building. 

I graduated from South Dakota State University with degrees in English and French, but I came into those later in my college career. I had started out in Theater, and the main performing space at the time (and even to this day for many things) is in Doner Auditorium--which is housed in Admin. So I was pretty excited to see someone open the front door of the building and walk right in. 

I circled the building before going in, though. I think I was worried that my memories would lose some of their luster if I went in. I was surprised and a little bummed to see that the old rickety fire escape which comes out off of the stage (one story above ground) has been upgraded and looks completely safe and sturdy. 
What fun would that be in mid-winter when you have a quick change to do and have to exit the stage, slide down the fire escape, re-enter the building on the first floor, plow into the costume shop, and change--all in 3 minutes?

When I finally opened the front door to the building, I was met with a smell that is unlike that of most academic buildings. Admin has never simply had that "musty old building" smell, partly because of the Computer Lab (which apparently still exists), but also because of the smells of paint and makeup and... well... theater... which come from Doner Auditorium. I've worked in other theaters since that time, and there is always the smell of paint and makeup, but there is something particular about Doner--and I think it's the extra mix of the old mustiness of academic halls. 



I swam upstairs through the memories and found myself walking into the back of the auditorium. It was mostly dark, but some of the lights at the rear of the house were on, so I walked forward and soaked it in. 

Before I left I headed up onto the stage for one last look out from that vantage point. It's been a long time since I was on that stage (and I'm not going to lie--I was never a lead in a show, although I did have some "center stage" moments), but it felt great to be back there.
 
I can't begin to tell you the stories that went through my mind. (Well... At least not right now... this post is getting long enough!) What I can tell you is that I found myself surrounded by the memories... and flooded by the friendships. It took me a long time to walk back up the aisle and out the door. But I have to admit that I felt good knowing that it was all still there. 

I guess that's what this weekend has been about--reconnecting with the past in the present. And it was nice to find out that we still get along.

Okay... That last sentence is way too "Doogie Howser, MD" for me to end a post on, so let me just say that there is one other reason I was so happy to be wandering around in Brookings: my cellphone finally picked up a signal again, and I was able to send a text to my partner to tell him how much I missed having him with me this weekend. Yeah. There are times when the past just can't compete. 


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