My time as a stage manager contained my first lessons in managing something bigger than myself. This was during my university years, where I was usually at a rehearsal or work session when I should have been in class. Everyone in the group was a student with three exceptions. We paid for a costume designer, a choreographer, and a director. In my role, I worked with all three, but our director, Milt Lyons, was the sources of the lasting lessons.
It was past midnight and we had just finished a full run-through of the show. The cast and crew were slumped in the theater seats as Milt was about to go through his notes of what worked and what needed fixing. I was on stage with Milt, standing just a little behind him and to his left. I was ready to jot down the notes that I needed to worry about and was thinking about what I needed to do as soon as he finished.
I was surprised by his first note of the evening. Or morning to be more accurate.
Milt deputized two cast members to escort me to my dorm and put me to bed. I handed my clipboard to my assistant and followed them. It was the first time I had left the theater in the preceding 120 hours. Twelve hours of sleep later, I was back.
You do some foolish things when you’re twenty. If you’re lucky, there are older and wiser heads to keep things from getting too foolish. I want the world to be orderly and under control. For all my grumbling about chaos and mess, I prefer to be around creation and creators. But that creative energy can be a distraction from responsibilities.