Anything vs. Everything

[thisnewday]

A few weeks ago, I wrote that I'd give anything to be on that bus. The one that follows the "Cornfield Tour" through Iowa, in the early summer, and ends at the DCI championships at Indiana University in late August. The one that carries the hopes and dreams of the Dubuque Colts, the pride and commitment of a small Iowa community, and the spirit and legacy of a bright but tragically fallen young star.

I thought of it, then, as if there were an admission fee, as if once it was paid the ride itself was free. You know, just drop in your token as you get on the bus and then find your seat. Just do what you have to do to get on the bus. Then I started thinking about the difference between "giving anything" and "giving everything." Because "everything" is what everyone who embarks on such an enterprise is, of necessity, expected to give.

The truth is that there was a time when I was capable of that. Back when my two oldest kids, now in their thirties, performed with Syracuse's Studio M, I put in long hours as a volunteer "roadie" and then even longer hours as the studio's paid technical director.

The fun part was sitting down with owner and artistic director Lou Musa to figure out the staging, props, and scenery for the next show. The tough part was loading and unloading the two huge Ryder Rental trucks it eventually took to get it all from storage to the show venues which, over the three years of my involvement, included area shopping malls, the Landmark Theater, and the Mulroy Civic Center.

Back then, I did it all and did it well. From drawing board to fabrication shop to final curtain, I was in the background doing my part to make it happen. There were nights when I worked all night in the shop and sent the last piece off to the site five minutes before the start of the show. And there were days when I hardly said two words to my own kids because they were as busy rehearsing as I was setting up for the show.

Embedded in the wreckage of my spine and shoulders and knees is a more or less permanent record of, among other things, the three dozen steps up the ramp and into the truck carrying the 4'x8' stage sections that weighed about 100 pounds each. (I was 5'8" and weighed about 150.) In the beginning, there was maybe a dozen of them. By the time I left the studio, there were close to four dozen which, in one configuration, could be set up on three different levels with stairs that rolled from underneath for the performers to strut their way down to the main stage.

So, yeah, I know what it's about. Maybe I was thinking that I had it in me to do it one last time. One last time for this very special season with the Colts. Before, that is, I thought about the difference between "anything" and "everything." Which, now that I've thought about it, I know I've already given. And that my "one last time" was, realistically, those many years ago...