Since I first exploded onto the newspaper scene in 2007, I’ve had the opportunity to write several stories about drama clubs, theatre troupes and student performances. The latest one about Ogemaw Heights’ upcoming murder mystery show really brought back some memories.

I don’t know why this last brought the past to life. Maybe it’s because it will be 10 years ago this spring when I last stepped up on stage during my senior year at Whittemore-Prescott in the play “’60s Mania.”

At least I think that was the name; I could be wrong. It’s been 10 years, after all, and a lot has happened since then — college, lackluster attempts at jobs I never really wanted to do anyways (door-to-door sales, anybody?), a foray into politics and a brief stay in Los Angeles.

Oh yeah, not to mention I’ve written thousands of stories and taken thousands of photos while working at the newspapers in Arenac, Ogemaw and Oscoda counties.

I digress, though. Back to “’60s Mania” (if that was the name). It was the second time I acted in a play at W-P, the first being “Tangled Webs” during my sophomore year.

Strangely enough, I can remember the name of the first play well, but can’t remember hardly anything about the play itself, other than people laughed a lot during it and I spent much of it in a mock “window box.”

The mock window box had also been used as a coffin during other performances, and if anyone has seen me in person, they know I am not exactly a petite individual. So forgive the fuzzy memories, but I’m sure my subconscious has nearly wiped out the experience of being stuffed in a hot, cramped wooden box, although the prop, and me inside of it, did provide some great comedic gags.

In “’60s Mania,” though, I had my most triumphant comedic gag. I still remember the whole setup. But let’s talk a little bit about the story’s background first.

Basically in the play, the lead female has decided to leave her boyfriend for a peace-loving hippy, who I believe was named Star Baby. It turned out Star Baby wasn’t really into peace, love and harmony, as he took quite a violent turn late in the play, and showed he was more materialistic than your average ’60s flower child.

I can’t remember where my character fit into the plot, only that I was portraying a wealthy man whose “money belt” Star Baby demanded at gunpoint during the climactic scene. That was when it was my turn to show off my expert comedic timing.

My character didn’t know what a money belt was (and to this day, I still don’t know what one is), and finally in frustration, I threw down a wad of money and my belt, proclaiming something along the lines of “There, now you have a money belt!”

Wait, though. That’s not what had them falling out of their seats. As I ripped off the belt, my pants instantly dropped to my ankles, exposing a lovely pair of heart-emblazoned boxer shorts.

It took some practice to get the pants-dropping gag right (and I also had to find a pair of pants with an enormous waistline that would fall as soon as the belt was off), but the payoff, making people laugh, was worth it.

Most of the performances by today’s drama students are just as funny, so check them out. Because without a crowd there to provide the laughs, my pants-dropping gag wouldn’t be a happy memory.

I’d probably get it confused with a doctor’s appointment.

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