A Frigid Tale
The Source
He said he put his underwear in the freezer. At least that’s what the actor claimed. He was a Springfield guy who’d joined the cast of one of my Theatre in the Park shows at Lincoln’s New Salem. It was a summer much like this dog scorcher of a season and for weeks we rehearsed in the early evening heat. Anyone who’s had to work in this guck knows what a toll the temp can take on you, and when you’re wearing a heavy costume plus stage makeup which clogs your pores, you might actually be in some danger onstage. So Tom claimed that he’d put his briefs into the freezer over night then toss them into a cooler on his way to the theatre. He said that just before curtain time he’d zip into the actors’ restroom and put on the frozen shorts, having another pair frozen and ready for Act II. I would hate to have a photograph of your imagination as you read this. I know I don’t even want to recall mine when I first heard his tale of frigid undies. What exactly would be the sensation, we wondered? Did anyone hear him scream? Did he walk funny for the first few scenes? Tom said that the only real drawback was that about 30 minutes into the play he’d experience a bit of moisture as the icy drawers condensed and the moisture began to run down his leg, but even that, he claimed, provided some cooling. Tom said nothing about what this nightly ritual did to the flavor of his ice cream at home, and I think it’s important to note that Tom had no children. The only real drawback was for the other actors. More than one of them said that it was hard on their concentration to know that they were trying to carry on meaningful dialogue with a man whose underwear was below zero. One lady offered to pat him to see if he was making this up. Although I was the director, that was far beyond my jurisdiction and I advised her to confine her patting to the backstage areas. The heat seems to be the topic of everyone’s conversation this summer. I’ve yet to enter a store where I’m not asked, “Hot enough for you?” I once asked my grandpa how people endured summers like this before the invention of air conditioning. He said, “They died.” So it was this summer that my faithful air conditioner chose to give up the Freon ghost, and I came home one night to find a hot house at 10 p.m. No one works on air conditioners at 10 p.m. …at least not in Arenzville. And when the temps get over 100 there are very few repairmen who find themselves just sitting around waiting for a call. The next morning I was waiting on the doorstep of a major retailer, waiting for them to open up and sell me a new air conditioner. Getting up early was easy since I slept very little with a small fan blowing 85-degree air over my body. The salesman said it would take a couple of days. I waited three days in the heat…nothing. So I traveled to Trone in Beardstown and they sent a team within hours. I’m recommending the entire company for sainthood, even if Presbyterians can’t do that. The only drawback is that I’m an idiot and didn’t realize what sort of wiring I needed so the blessedly understanding fellows took it out and brought another one. I would have sent a letter of recommendation to God if I could have found His address. So I sat there as my new window unit did it’s stuff…95 degrees…92 degrees…89 degrees…the pictures on my walls were beginning to assume their original shape. 84 degrees….81…78….my shirt came unstuck from my back. 74…72…71…Nirvana was in sight! 68….67…Glory Halleluiah and may God and Frigidaire be praised! 65! Touchdown! Bingo! Bulls-eye! E pluribus Fahrenheit! I began breathing again! I thought I’d test just how cold I could get the house but then the great ghost of Ameren Illinois reared its hoary head and I nudged the thermostat up a bit. This beat the heck out of frozen underwear any day! I’d not thought about Tom in years until he “friended” me on Facebook last week. I was tempted to ask him about the temperature of his shorts but feared what the inquiry might look like to anyone who didn’t know our history. If I remember correctly Tom was both a good actor and somewhat of an idiot. I told my cast that if they ran an antiperspirant stick along their hairline it would help keep the sweat off the faces during hot nights onstage. Tom misunderstood and used deodorant spray. He nearly shot his eye out.