OK. Two of the laughs tonight? At the Exit 16 show?
I've got an insanely smart, politically savvy, culturally aware group of teenagers on my hands. So the rest of the year—or at least, until October—will be spent:
a) Keeping up.
b) Giving them ways to express their views.
Hee hee hee hee hee.
ALSO, here's a thing. Exit 16-ness crosses generations.
I hope it's OK for me to mention this. (Since my readership numbers mostly in the single digits, I think it's probably OK.) A few years ago, a Exit 16 alum passed away. He was one of the coolest kids you could ever meet. A few things I remember:
—He taught hip-hop dance to little kids. (And a couple of times, to Exit 16.)
—He volunteered at schools in town.
—He helped raise his younger siblings after his father passed away.
—He was equally comfortable on the Exit 16 stage and with the football team.
—He spent a Second City show sitting next to a guy from Saatchi, and had a business card and an offer for help with an internship by the end of the show. (BTW. I was an ad major. I never got an internship offer. From anyone. Much less a major shop like that.)
—I got the nicest thank-you note from him for a couple of advertising books I gave him for graduation. (It doesn't happen super often. But when I hear from the kids after they graduated, it reminds me—every time—that working with Exit 16 may teach me more and give me more than I can ever hope to teach or give back.)
Anyway. Tony was an extraordinary young man. And the Scriptease guys have decided to dedicate their shows—and their profits—to his memory. That started with Thunderdome. Clay came to talk to the kids tonight about Exit 16 maybe participating, and before he'd finished talking—before he'd completed more than a few sentences—every single one of them said "We're in. Whatever you need."
I don't want to get goofy and emotional about this. But sometimes the things that move you the most come from the places you least expect it.