Intrigued?  It may not sound appealing, but it’s the name of a group that you’d love to be a part of, if only you could. It’s the Facebook group of theater students and aficionados from UC/Santa Cruz, dating from the late ‘70’s for perhaps a dozen or so years. Maybe 50 or so former thespian slugs are signed up from all the country, united in a feast of photos, memories and nostalgia for a very special time: Agamemnon, The Fantasticks, Narrow Road to the Deep North, Midsummer Night’s Dream, Kismet and Major Barbara – just some of the productions that made a lasting impression on many lives.

 To understand, you must appreciate something about the emotional and transient experience of the theater – the magic that happens and then disappears.  Furthermore, you should have some familiarity with the banana slug, the colorful, but gross and slimy mascot of UC/Santa Cruz – a significant choice in so many ways.  Happily, there is a movement afoot to document and record some of the people, events and productions of that time, for those who were there, and for those who were not.  The most powerful and happy part of this experience was the welcoming and encouraging nature of those who took part – those with considerable talent and experience and those who had never been around a stage in their lives.  This was kids doing theater, yes, but it was magnetic, drawing others into its orbit, the very opposite of exclusive clubs and fraternities.  And believe me, that is a very special thing to find anywhere.

I applied to UC/Santa Cruz with two objectives: 1. to get out of dodge (small town Connecticut), and 2. to study with Shakespeare professor, Joseph Barber, who passed away just before I got there.  I arrived at the college, never having seen the place, and without my luggage: lost for four days somewhere between the coasts.  Never to worry. My roommate, Marti, set me up with towels and toiletries. My dear girl, Laura, took me under her wing, clothing me and leading me directly to Performing Arts to get my work-study job underway.  Then I met Marco Martinez-Galarce, who exerted a centrifugal force, drawing in people to take part in a show with his energy, his passion and his talent.  From that point, I was swept up in the theater related world on campus, never to leave until graduation. I entered more or less a scholar, a bookworm, having little experience with High School theater.  I meant to study, read, and write, which I did, as a dramatic literature major. But, before I knew it, I was singing away (I didn’t have much of a voice); reciting a few lines (I couldn’t remember too many); house manager of the Performing Arts Center, and stage manager of a Greek tragedy.  I didn’t understand then, as I do now, that Shakespeare was Shakespeare, not just because of his “little Greek and Latin” and writing ability, but because he mucked around on stage. I had other theater experiences after college (another blog for another day), special in their ways, but none quite as life-changing as this – the setting, the support, the interconnection of art and academics, the long-term relationships, the parties, the fun.

 A couple nights ago, we attended the John Glenn Middle School production of Alice in Wonderland; our younger son was in the tech crew, doing lights. The program listed 170 students involved in the production; amazing there were no injuries on stage, or off.  It was quite good, something to be proud of.  The run is over, props and costumes put away; the auditorium back to “normal”.  But I wonder, how many of them got the “bug”?  And how sad it is that so few of us adults can still find that outlet, that camaraderie, that rush, of putting on a play.