First off, this is a blog. Just typing words in a field on any particular website does not constitute blogging. If one more person refers to the comments section on the Deseret News website as a "blog" ("I've been blogging on this site for years! Gay marriage is immoral!") or refers to their current flame war below "Letters to the Editor" as "blogging," I will shit enough bricks to build a bomb shelter, which I'll need to withstand the giant explosion that will occur when someone lights a cigarette near me after shitting so many bricks. It takes a shitload of methane to produce that many bricks inside one's colon.

And, now, some gasses coming out of my upper orifice:

First you make it to college and you tell yourself, "Oh now, this is the shit. I'm awesome. I'm gonna do so much acting!" Then, they make you be on the crew several times just to get your degree. You think, "This is no longer the shit, but the bullshit. I'm an ACTOR for God's sake!"

I knew many "actors" who resented being on the crew. They were too into themselves (What!?! Actors can be self-centered narcissists? No!) to realize what comprises theatre. As an actor, it's easy to lose sight of the fact that theatre isn't just about YOU and your craft of hitting your mark, saying your line, singing your song, and getting the hell out of the way. Theatre is more than just acting; much, much more.

I can't even begin to describe how much preparation goes into stage management. It is hard-ass work. One has to anticipate every problem that could potentially happen in a rehearsal or performance, yet be completely prepared to quickly solve any unanticipated problems and, when you solve the problem, pretend you knew it would happen all along. Apparently I'm good at both those things: solving unanticipated problems, and pretending.

And the designer work...Jesus Lord, they work hard! From the detailed understanding of the technology used to the problem-solving of tweaking the design until it meets the aesthetic requirements of the director and actors, designers do some major, important, and indispensible work.

But some actors have a tendency to forget that; I've known them. They think acting is the only element of theatre. Or the only important element, anyway.

As an ancient Buddhist koan says, "If an actor recites the 'To be or not to be' monologue from HAMLET in complete darkness, does anyone give a fuck?" Ponder that one deeply; Siddharta knew what he was talking about.

Acting can happen anywhere, but that doesn't make it theatre. One can assume a character anywhere: at work, in the checkout at Whole Foods, at a stoplight, on a parade float, in the last stall in the men's room at the rest stop in American Fork, anywhere! But, it takes all the technical elements to make it true live theatre. Otherwise, we'd all be like the Greeks, those olive-eating, boy-loving, Parthenon-constructing, Western Civilization-building boobs, getting up at 5 A.M. to get to the ampitheater by 6 A.M. to watch some God-awful drivel about a crazy woman chopping up her children, cooking them into a gyro, and feeding them to her husband because she was pissed he forgot to bring feta from the dairyman on his way home from work at the public bathhouse. And no one wants to see that.

Actually, that sounds kind of entertaining.

It's not normal for me to be backstage and not actually be in the show; quite odd. It's weird to watch a show I'm not in from anywhere but the auditorium. However, this experience has been an eye-opener. Over the years, I have neglected to remember all that goes into making a show a show. I was never an actor that didn't appreciate all that happened offstage to make what happened onstage barely endurable for the audience. I was always very thankful for what my stage managers, designers, the author, wardrobe people, and production team did for me in all the productions I've performed in, but until seeing what goes on behind the scenes from first rehearsal through production meetings, technical rehearsals, and dress rehearsals to opening night, firsthand in a professional setting, I never understood how much they did for me. But I do now, and I am definitely a better actor for it. I rarely complained before (I was just always happy to have a job and, you know, not a friggin' pussy), but I never will again. I will also firmly pinch to the point of painful bruising the nipples of any actor who does. This is my pledge.

Jim, Josh, Brenda, Cynthia, Nancy, Al, John, Brittany, Shannon, Van, Adam, Kevin, Keven, Kevan, Ccevoiuean, Kaevun, Keihvhun, and Quevan have all worked their collective asses off to make SV 2010 a great show. You should really come see it. You're an idiot if you don't. My hat's off to them, and to every person who has ever worked offstage on a show anywhere without the accolades they deserve. Kudos, sirs and madames. Kudos.

Finally, to any actor out there with an immense ego and even more immense stench who thinks they are God's graceless gift to audiences and acting is the only thing that makes live theatre great, never forget this: without the technical elements and the support of every theatre person from the box office agent to the janitor and everyone in-between, acting itself is nothing more than the first, creeping stages of schizophrenia. A costume, a microphone, lights, and a prop are the only things keeping audiences from only suspecting you might be crazy, and knowing you actually are. :)