Behind the scenes

Tom Pinney

The scene is a large high school in suburban Columbus, Ohio. And by “large,” I mean quadruple Maryville High’s population and about three times the land mass.

Gahanna-Lincoln High School was known throughout the area for being the “arts” school, and there was good reason. There were five choirs, two of which were by audition only, who received top ranks at regional and state competitions every year.

Our marching band and concert band were invited to perform with the Ohio State band every couple of years. They won marching festivals by a lot and performed well at concert contests.

Our theater department was the pride and joy of the Columbus metropolitan area, regularly selling out every production from the fall play and spring musical to the dinner theater performance and the talent show. Led by an audition-only senior group of actors, we held ourselves to the highest standards.

When I became a senior, I would gain admission to that hallowed group. But for this story, I was a sophomore, having just moved to Gahanna from far west Texas, and when we arrived and I enrolled at Gahanna-Lincoln, I was three days late for auditions for the fall play.

I was crushed, but I knew that I wanted to be involved with the production in some way. So, three days after enrolling, I strolled into the “Little Theater” (which was actually set up just like a mini theater, complete with curtains and stadium seating) and into Mrs. Macioce’s office to ask if there was anything I could do to be part of the production.

I explained that I had missed auditions because my family had just moved to town and I just wanted to be involved. She suggested I get in contact with our set designer to help with build crew and, potentially, run crew.

Two days later, I showed up in the build shop and helped to build the set. And I had the time of my life.

The build shop was mostly full of people trying to gain a spot on the run crew, but the actors in the play showed up when they could to pull their weight as well. It was awesome to see everyone pitch in to make the show as great as it could be, and the rest of my time at Lincoln, from when I was a chorus member in Fiddler on the Roof to when I played Bob Cratchit in A Christmas Carol, I always spent my spare time building the set.

Being involved in that theater department showed me two very important facts that I take with me even to this day. First you’re never too good for a job. You could be Sheldon Cooper, you’re still not above taking out the trash.

Second, sometimes the most appreciation you can get is the knowledge that you did something yourself, even when – especially when – you don’t actually receive any credit. I felt better about myself when I was just part of the crew than when I was starring in the show.

That’s why I love being behind the scenes.

Now I know what you’re thinking: this column is going to run with my face pasted prominently in the words. But this is the only time each week where most of y’all even see my face.

And for all you know, I shaved last night and that Van Dyke (which is the proper name for the facial hair configuration I have, and the reason I know that is a really long story) isn’t there anymore.

That mysticism is why I love doing this job. You think you kind of know me, but you really don’t. And it makes me kind of mysterious.

Laugh all you want, but it’s true. It’s even been long enough that those of you who heard my voice on KXCV the last two summers probably don’t even remember what my voice sounds like unless I’ve interviewed or spoken to you personally in the last six months.

At church, I like that disconnect as well. I was gifted with musical abilities, but I didn’t want to make a big deal of who I was, so I just became a cog in the worship team.

Now, I don’t even sing harmonies with a mic anymore, and it’s pretty safe to say that 85 percent of the congregation at C3 couldn’t tell you my name if you gave them three tries. They’d probably tell you, “That piano guy,” or “That drummer kid” or “Seth” (because some people think I look like a Seth).

I don’t do what I do for the recognition, for the money, to get people to know my name, or for the fact that it gives me a viable alternative to being in school which I’m actually starting to like and seriously consider as a career choice.

Instead, I do what I do because I love doing it and it makes me feel pretty awesome.

I pick up the paper each morning on my way back to my desk and think to myself, I wrote that. That’s pretty cool.

But it’s also a great way to keep myself in check as, with all my nerd memorabilia surrounding me, I start to gather news for our next paper. No time to celebrate or get excited about every little thing I do; just push on to the next one and keep going forward.

I’m a news guy because I genuinely love the news and everything about it.

And because, at 26 years old, I have a business card that looks awesome. Not going to lie, that’s a pretty big perk.