Blast From the Past! Babes in Toyland, 1990, Or, In Other Words, Realizing My Dad Wasn't As Old As I Thought He Was . . .

Today I spent some time going through folders in my file cabinet, organizing, when I stumbled upon this photo of my Dad, brother Michael and I.  We were posing for a photo for Babes in Toyland, a musical we three were in at Porterville College in 1990.  I was between the third and fourth grade.

Then I did the math . . .

If this was 1990, then my Dad was 34 years old in this photo!!!

34!!!!

That's how old I am now!!

Ah man!!

And I freaked out a little, or a lot.

It's just weird.

I don't feel nearly as old as my Dad seemed when I was eight.

This was the very first community theater I had ever been in.  My brother's first as well.  My Dad did a school play or two when he was at Buena High School, really need to get more information on that, but I don't think he had done community theater.  Anyhoo!  Ah man . . .

I remember so much about this experience.  A flier was passed around at school, which is how I found out.  My Dad took us to the audition, signed us up, and we left.  I didn't even get to audition, didn't really know what that was about, but when we left I saw kids getting up to sing solos and I wanted to stay and sing.  My Dad wanted to get out of there and not deal with the hassle, I guess.  Assuming.  So I got cast as a French Doll.  Because there weren't a lot of boys my brother got to be one of the Piper children.  In short, more scenes.

Back stage, in the long hallway, there were a whole lot of chairs.  Most of the time we were asked to sit quietly on the chairs as we waited for our scenes.  Since I weren't in many I spent a lot of time in that hallway, and somehow I got to avoid sitting in those seats.  I spent a lot of time in the makeup room with the adults trying on wigs.

Fun times.

The next year my Dad and I did Show Boat.  And for that, oddly enough, my fondest memory was going to the cafeteria on campus and getting pieces of Red Vines for a nickle or two.

BYU Beyond Stone-Cold Sober

(A picture of a Picture, but this is me as a BYU graduate)

Everyone knows BYU (Brigham Young University) always gets the top spot as the Stone-Cold Sober school in the Nation.  You can thank our strict honor code for that, but College Magazine now has BYU under two new categories, and it actually gave me quite a laugh, and cringe a little at the same time.  It's true though, even if I fall out of one of the categories.

BYU is ranked #2 as the Best Place to Find a Husband.  I guess it's a kind of merit that I managed to graduate single?  That I put studies and long hours in the Library over . . . yeah.  I tranfered into the school at 21, when most guys get home from their missions.  Maybe I was in the wrong program.  I probably would have met more guys if I spent more time around the computer science building or business school . . . why didn't I do that?  

In the Music Program all the guys that I met were married, and those that weren't married, two guys (I can only remember two guys who were single) were too busy dating 19 year-old's.  I'm not bitter.  And when I transferred I had finished all my general education classes, save a couple.  Nah, I should have spent more time with the French Club.  I actually went to a few meetings.  Could have met a cute guy who spoke French!  Sexy! 

West Point, the U.S. Military Academy, beat us out at #1.  Interesting.  Who doesn't like a man in uniform?  Makes me think of Pride and Prejudice. 

and BYU ranked #4 as most stressful school.  This I believe!!!!  I've attended four colleges: Porterville College, College of the Sequoias, Utah Valley State College (now Utah Valley University), and Brigham Young University.  So I can say I've experienced a bit of an upper education spectrum.  PC, COS, and UVSC were easy fits for me.  I studied hard, the classes were tough, but I was relaxed.  There was an ease in the air.

 

Then I transferred to BYU.  There is stress in the air!  It's true, and you can feel it.  All the students are over achievers with high morals, and freak outs come often.  I'll never forget the time, hanging out with other music students in the HFAC, when one of the voice majors came over eating an ice-cream sundae.  She was going at it, and all our eyes bulged.  She then went on to explain that she just failed a test and needed some solace.  We all had a good laugh then, and suddenly I realized I needed ice-cream too.

 

And we all have that one moment where we crack.  That time came my second year there.  Everyone knows how stressful finals week is.  This one week trumped even that!  5 tests in 4 days amongst a full class schedule, packed with homework, quizzes, and essays.  I didn't think I would survive!  I almost didn't.

 

The testing center is a monstrous room packed with desks going in straight lines and then around the perimeter.  I would like to know the dimensions of that room; I only know I felt overwhelmed each time I entered.  Of course that could be because of the test I was about to take.

 

The testing center is upstairs, and when coming out of the room there is a smaller room where you give your test to someone to scan.  By the time you're down the stairs there's a set of computer screens, and on it you search for your student number to read the score.  This was at the end of the week, having taken other tests I failed.  Then I saw my score: 55%.  I lost it!  On the spot I just started laughing!  And I kept laughing as I walked out of the door, sunset, walking the long trek to my car.  Laughing is good for the soul.

 

MIT ranked #3 and Harvard was #5.  Sandwiched between MIT and Harvard!!!