Things I Learned about Prepping from Working in a Theater

I have been working as a manager at a local community theater for almost three years, and before that, my family and I volunteered at that same theater for over half a decade.  The Theater was and is as much a part of our lives as our homestead.

One day, I realized that the two activities were actually a lot more similar than one might think.  In fact, working at the Theater has, in a lot of ways, made me a better prepper.  

Here's how:

1. It is not hoarding if you're going to use it someday.
   
   There's a joke in Theater that The Phantom of the Opera couldn't possibly be real, because any director/theater manager worth his salt would find that hidden cavern and use it for prop storage.
   
   At the Theater where I work, we have a huge prop room with floor to ceiling shelves, and it's so packed with everything from fake flowers and baskets to old books and teapots that there's just a three-foot wide path from one door to the other.  That's just what's at the Theater.  We also have a separate storage space for additional props and set pieces.   Our costume storage is three times the size of our prop storage, and we try to keep everything from custom-made vests worn by the monkeys in The Wizard of Oz production we did to the donated mink "scarves" complete with faces.
   
   In Theater, we never know what we will use, because we don't have a crystal ball telling us what shows we might do in five years, or even next fall, which is why we keep everything we can find a place for, and why we are shy about turning down donations.  Sometimes what someone else might discard can be incredibly useful for us.   
   
   The same is true of prepping. We never know what we might need, which is why we preppers often get mislabeled hoarders, but here's the thing.  I have (probably too many) boxes of old clothes.  I save t-shirts and jeans that are too stained or ripped, or sometimes if they were from a personal, very specific event (like a t-shirt from a dance show my daughters performed in).  I also keep things, like, elastic from panties and boxer shorts.   Every now and then, I will go through my stash and clean things out, but I almost always regret it.
   
   Recently, two things happened.  We ended up in a pandemic that resulted in a statewide mandate to wear a mask in public places.  I work very hard to avoid disposable products in my home.  For instance, we don't use paper towels or napkins.  Instead we have a bunch of cloth napkins, for when we use them, and I have old towels and t-shirts cut into rags to replace paper towels.  So, using a disposable face mask was also not happening.  Not to mention that at the beginning of the Pandemic, we couldn't even buy disposable masks.
   
   We also couldn't buy elastic, which means if I hadn't been a hoarder of strange things, like old underwear, I wouldn't have been able to make masks.  Deus Ex Machina wears his masks with the elastic that says, "Victoria's Secret", and he gets a few chuckles and sideways glances from his co-workers.
   
   The second thing was that in the middle of the lockdown period, my daughter had a birthday, and I decided to make her a quilt for her birthday using old shirts from her dance days.  I had enough shirts that I was able to make a large couch throw.  I even had enough material hoarded … er, stored … to give the quilt a back and some batting in between the two layers.
   
   Sometimes, trying to find something in my house can be frustrating, because I have so much stuff, but those times when I need what I've saved, I am incredibly thankful.

2. Skills can really make the difference.
   
   In Theater we often have to customize things.  For example, we did a show and was having trouble finding a costume that was the right size for the actress.  We needed a costume for her that was from the late 1800s, and we were doing a "Steampunk" inspired version of the show set during that time period.   Having someone on staff who could actually sew was invaluable.  Our costumer/seamstress made a custom dress for this actress in less than a day.
   
   For that same show, we also needed aprons – not just any apron, but a very specific design, because it theater, it is all about making things LOOK a certain way.  So, it's not enough to just put an apron on the actress.  It has to fit the overall theme and style of the story.
   
   But it also has to fit.  So, we made three aprons, all custom fit to the actresses who wore them.  A custom dress from the Victorian Era can run over $300 and the aprons that we made would have been over $30 each, if we had purchased them, and then, they might not have fit properly.
   
   Sets are also custom made for the shows.  Finding a piano that is ornate enough to sit in Mr. Laurence's parlor in Little Women, but that can also be moved off and on the stage by just one or two people would be impossible.  Having someone custom make a piano (not one that actually works, but that's another topic) is what we do here.  Fake furniture can't look fake, and having a talented set designer who is also a finish carpenter is incredibly valuable.
   
   But it's not just the stuff that happens before the curtain goes up.  There are often little mishaps during the run of the show that need attention – like a zipper breaking during a costume change or a button popping off.  Those things do happen, and having someone back stage who can fix them on the fly is incredibly useful.  Maybe it doesn't save the show, but it certainly makes it less worrisome for the people on the stage to know that their zipper is fixed.
   
   Skill building – especially those basic skills that allow us to customize – is essential in prepping.  Above I mention making masks.  Because I can sew, I can repair and make clothes.  I can make quilts.  I can make feminine hygiene products and diapers that are as good as (comfort-wise and absorbency-wise) as the high-tech disposables.
   
   The hallmark of a successful prepper is someone who can be self-sufficient.  Having carpentry skills, sewing skills, cooking skills, and other DIY skills means not having to pay someone to do little projects, and that, alone, is incredibly valuable. 

3.  Most people won't look too close, if what they see at a glance looks real enough

There's this common understanding in Theater that if a thing looks good from ten feet away, then it will be fine.  For instance, stage make-up close up can be startling, but from the audience, it can actually make the actor look better.  It's all about the façade.

I started to call this item something about camouflage, because that's what it's about.  It's about showing one thing, when that thing is actually something else.  In Theater, we have real working doors on our sets that go nowhere.  Well, they go behind the set, and the room into which the character disappears is implied.  A lot of stuff is implied in Theater, but that's okay, because the audience is willing to fill in the blanks and make whatever isn't there, appear.

In prepping, sometimes we have things that look like one thing, but are actually something else.  Hollowed out books for storing valuables.  Pretty flowers that are actually food.  Bean bags filled with dried beans that are actually edible.  Storing supplies right where they can be seen, but in such a way that it's over looked, is a fantastic prepper technique.

4. What's happening behind the scenes is as important as what's being shown.

In Theater the folks on the stage are only a piece of the show. There are about a million things happening in the background that the audience never sees.  When Roger Debris runs off stage after accepting the fact that he's going to have to perform the lead in the play-within-a-play in the musical The Producers, the actor (not the character) has less than 5 minutes to become the next character.  As an audience member, what you will never see is that person who is standing in the wings, holding a wig, a mustache, and a bottle of water, and while the actor is chugging the cold water, that person is tucking pants in boots and fixing wigs.  That person is a "dresser", and for really fast changes, they are an essential piece of the success of the show.  There often isn't enough time for a full costume change without someone to help zip zippers and remember hats, gloves, and scarves, but when the music starts, the actor, fully changed, needs to be on the stage to sing those opening notes.  It's all about timing and stealth.  We can't let the audience know that we're back there holding the wig.  The actor just needs to magically appear on the stage with the wig on.  It's magic. 

There's a kind of magic in prepping, too.  It's not the "show the world this" and "hide this from the world" kind of magic that happens in Theater, but it is the kind of magic that happens when everyone is working toward the same goal and we all know that we can depend on each other.  In Theater, the actors need the stage crew to keep things running smoothly.  The crew assists with costume changes and set changes, keeps track of props, makes sure there is water or other needs met, and keeps the chaos that is backstage in the middle of a play from erupting. 

Every day preps – ordering the seeds, weeding the garden, canning the harvest, darning a sock, tending the flock of chickens, setting up the rain barrels in the spring and emptying them before it gets cold enough for them to freeze.  It's those little things, those unsexy tasks that someone has to do, and for which there is no spotlight and applause, but it has to be done, and when it is all working in sync, when the backstage crew is doing its job, no one, sometimes not even the actors, know they are there.  And that's the magic.

5. Stay calm.

Live Theater isn't like film.  There are no second takes if mistakes are made or mishaps occur.  What happens on the stage, happens.  Live theater is kind of like life, in that respect.  We can practice our lines until saying them sounds like we're talking to an old friend rather than reciting words someone else wrote.  We can sing the songs until the lyrics become our daily soundtrack.  We can sew beautiful costumes and have sets that are so realistic, we want to move into that living room.   And then, it's opening night, and there are people clapping and laughing (we hope), and something happens.  A shoe breaks.  A zipper gets stuck.  A china cup gets dropped and smashes on the stage. Someone forgets the words to the song or the next line.  Things happen.  The key is to stay calm and just do the next thing.

In the decade that I have been involved in the Theater, I have never seen anything so bad happen on the stage that it ruined the show.  One time, in the middle of the show, the actor's guitar string broke.  He and the other actors on the stage stayed calm.  They ad-libbed while he tried to fix the string, but as soon as he got that one fixed, another one broke.  Finally, he says to the pianist (who was also the music director, and so obviously knew the score), "Hey, man, how would you like to accompany me on this next song?"  It worked!  The audience was none the wiser, and the show went on.    

That is absolutely the best ever advice for Preppers, but also just for life.  Things happen, and even after we've made as many solid and sound plans as we can, things happen, and we just have to take a deep breath and get to the next thing.   Improvise, be flexible, but most of all, stay calm. 

 

 

It's funny how much being a prepper has made my work in the Theater so much easier.  Or maybe working in the Theater has made me a better prepper.  Either way, it was fun to realize that these two, seemingly contradictory activities that dominate my life, are actually complimentary.

 

How has your job complemented your prepper lifestyle?