Scythe DOES matter

Thursday. Snow. Ice. Theatre. That’s how it works. But you probably need more information then that. Very well. I’ll tell you.

As mentioned, it was Thursday. It had snowed a great deal and I had a scythe I needed to bring to campus. It was for the performance of my play Death’s Secret ‘Stache (I’ll include it for you to read). And, no, it wasn’t a prop scythe...it was a real one (borrowed from Krysta Ficca’s Dad via her Grandmother who was smaller than the scythe).

The play was fabulous–Audrey Lauren Wax directed it (she’s brilliant and I was quite pleased to work with her) and it starred Christopher Coursey as Death, Kristin Haller as Mrs. Death and Anna-Marie Hearn as their Daughter. They were are brilliant. Chris was frightening in his white face wielding the scythe. The audience laughed when it was supposed to and I felt it was a great success. But now the adventure really begins...

The scythe needed to be returned to its owner. I carried it from the Kiva to the library (I had to return a movie for Dennis West’s film class). Thinking that walking into the library carrying this enormous farm tool might cause some problems, I was thankful when Angela Gruver (one of my fabulous Comm students) happened by. She and her friend (give me his name and I’ll immortalize him here!–oh, and I’d love to hear YOUR side of the story, too!) were kind enough to hold the scythe for me while I ran my errand. Then I carried it from the library to the Shoup. Where I found out that Krysta had not driven that day and that the scythe was still my responsibility. So, off I went from the Shoup to the TLC building with the scythe over my shoulder.

It’s quite a good psychological study of those around you when one is carrying a scythe. The looks I got as I walked across campus were a mixture of smiles and laughter, to fear and a look that can only be described as “WTF?”. I heard one group behind me talking. “Is that the thing the Grim Reaper uses?” “Yes,” said a voice with the fear and awe about which Death was concerned in my play.

When I got to class...it was only 2:30. I had about an hour to wait. Jessi Lundeen (another Comm 101 student) had gotten there early as well so we decided to play a little joke on Sally Eames-Harlan in her Comm class. Jessi and I waited outside the classroom until the student had finished her speech. Jessi opened the door and I walked in with the scythe.

“Sally...it is time to go.” I said, lowering my voice as far down as it would go.

“No, we still have time.” she said, looking at the clock.

“No...Just YOU.”

We all laughed then Jessi and I left so they could finish their class. Afterwards Sally said that Dean Panttaja’s son was sitting next to her and said, “That’s why I don’t hang out at the theatre department.” It cracked me up.

When class was over I walked from the TLC to home and decided that if I slid on the ice I would throw the scythe away from me to keep it from chopping off valuable body parts. On the walk home I met up with Erik Hayes. He was kind enough to walk with me and not worry about the judgements (not to mention injuries) that may befall a man walking next to a girl holding a scythe.