Message from Mark (Iceman)

Here's an update from Mark, my acting teacher & writer of the Iceward Bound blog. A slice o' Antarctic life, including a bottom-of-the-world theatre production. Enjoy.
============================================
2/12/2005

Looking Up From The Bottom Of The World

Well, I'm rounding the corner and nearing the end of
my stint in Antarctica. It's been a long, LONG season
and while I'm limping home a bit at the moment, it's
been a very good season all the way around.

In sporting terms, I've definitely left everything I
had on the playing field. The gas tank is empty. Two
more weeks to go and I'm really just going day by day
and not counting the time. Mentally, I'm tired.
Physically, I've been ill twice this season, once for
around three weeks, and the current illness has been
with me for about a week now.

We've just finished our vessel offload and backload.
We normally work 10 hours a day, 6 days a week. When
the vessel comes in, I go to 12 hour shifts with no
days off until the vessel loading is complete. In
this case, that meant 13 consecutive work days at 12
hours per day. The day the boat left, I got sick. I
got to spend my one day off in bed with a fever, a
runny nose, a red eye and a hacking cough.

Some fun, eh?

Let's see...what's happened since my last note...

My theater production went VERY well. Long-time
Antarctic veterans proclaimed it by far and away the
best piece of theater ever produced down here, and
gave it high marks for professionalism, the set, sound
and lights, as well as the acting and the overall
experience.

Everyone loved the shows (a collection of short,
one-act plays) and loved that there wasn't anything
about Antarctica in any of them...that they felt truly
transported to a real night at the theater. It was
escapism at its best.

I was most proud of taking a very sterile
garage/warehouse and turning it into a theater with
personality. There were audible oohs and ahhs when
folks walked into the building because they were so
used to seeing one way, and it really looked like a
nice 75-seat blackbox theater with an interesting set,
a good sound system and a lighting grid.

I was VERY proud of the lighting. I had 16 lighting
instruments, which consisted of 6 instruments with 500
watt car headlights for lamps, 2 instruments with 300
watt porch flood lights for lamps, and 8 coffee cans
with 100 watt light bulbs in them.

There was nothing to shutter the lights with other
than where I could hang them off of various plumbing,
electrical and fire extinguisher system pipes or the
steel girders of the building itself. I could
position lights so their beam would be partially
blocked by either a set piece or a railing or another
instrument in order to create lighting areas.

For control of the lights, I had 6 jerry-rigged
channels consisting of home light switches with
rheostats. To make lights go up or down, I'd have to
turn 3 or 4 knobs at the same time which is no easy
task and take a bit of contortion to accomplish.

And it all went smoothly.

It's a geeky accomplishment, I know. Imagine making
an automobile out of a bunch of duct tape, a lawnmower
engine and a shopping cart. That's what it felt
like--a total MacGyver job and the show really did
look professional.

The actors were all wonderful, put in a lot of work
and it showed. I acted in one piece, directed
another, built/painted the set, produced and directed
the production as a whole, so a lot of my sweat and
soul went into it.

It's not the best piece of theater I've ever done, but
it's easily the piece of theater I'm most proud of for
how it came together with the resources we had.

I think there were a few videos of the show that were
made. I haven't seen them yet and I was too busy to
get pictures...maybe someone on station has, but I
haven't seen them yet. I hope to have something to
show by the time I get home.

If not..well..that makes it the perfect piece of
theater, I guess. Alive for only a moment in
time...and in the collective memory of those who saw
it.

That's good enough for me.

After the theater...well...it's been all vessel
offload and backload. I wrote about half of the
articles that came out in our spoof newspaper, The
Moon. (the regular paper is called the Antarctic Sun,
so it's appropriate that the satirical version of it
is called The Antarctic Moon). Copies available when
I get home upon request.

There was some pretty funny stuff in there, I have to
admit. It's a real hoot to see people read your
stuff, not know who wrote it and they're laughing.
The Moon is officially banned by the NSF (who pays the
bills around here) and they seriously go around
picking up copies when they come out and destroy them.

Really. The good folks have NO sense of humor and
don't understand that if we don't laugh at life down
here, we'd all go crazy.

Then again, maybe we're crazy to start with.

Got my season eval today, and I'm VERY proud to say
that I have received the first-ever "5" rating in my
group. Five is the highest you can get, and since our
stated metric is perfection, my boss Michael has been
told that a 5 simply isn't possible.

He had to fight like heck to get me a 4 level last
year. HR was insisting that with our metric, 3 was
the best possible and they rejected my eval 3
different times. A 4 rating requires the signature of
Michaels boss, and HIS boss.

A 5 rating requires those signatures, the approval of
the station manager and a VP back in Denver who has
never met me.

Michael was told last year that "there ain't no such
thing as a 5". It's only there because Raytheon feels
like that have to give the illusion that there are two
performance levels above "meets expectations".

I really set out to get another 4 this year as my
goal, but I also talked Michael into a process for how
to get a 5 approved. That we needed more measureable
metrics to rate our customer satisfaction and the
level of service we give beyond just anecdotal
eveidence.

The 4 I got last year was the first one that Michael
had ever gotten approved from his group. The 5 this
year...well...I'm proud of that. They said it wasn't
possible.

I love a challenge like that.

It HAS been a good year and yeah, I do deserve it. In
a company culture noted for its negativity and finger
pointing, I had 6 written commendations personally.
Our group exceeded the service levels we set last
year. I did a hell of a lot of community service work
that made both myself and my department a lot more
visible on station.

The difference the rating makes in my end-of-season
bonus is negligible--maybe $125 over my 4 level last
year, which was maybe $150 over getting a 3 level.

I'm proud because I really don't like Raytheon and
it's corporate culture that says "there ain't no such
thing as a 5". Well...yes there is. There are a LOT
of 5's around this town who don't get the recognition
they deserve. I just wanted to show that it could be
done.

Maybe I'll grow up one of these days. But that's
still an irresistable urge for me. Tell me something
can't be done and I'll show you how it can be...and
then go do it.

It's the simple stuff I have problems with. ;-)

Anyway...its time for lots of goodbyes now as the
station starts to clear. I'm on the next-to-last
flight again, which means I'm going to a gazillion
farewell parties, made all that much more poignant
because I'm done here. I won't be returning.

It's been a wonderful, grand, interesting adventure.
Something I'll always cherish and give thoughts to
coming back here...but realistically, I doubt that I
will. I'd still love to do a winter here and would
still love to spend time in a remote camp, but I'm
okay if those dreams never come to fruition.

I wanted to come here to experience what it would be
like to live in space...isolated, with a small group
of people, reliant on the resources you could carry
and nothing else.

It's not quite THAT stringent here, but it's close.
There's a lot of scientific research that goes on here
that is tied directly to the space program. They study
how we live down here to build models on how folks
will live in space.

I don't mind being a guinea pig. It's been fun. Hard
work, but fun.

I'll miss the air down here, and the views. Being
able to see for a couple of hundred miles in any
direction is intoxicating...to see the world on that
large a scale. To be able to see a balloon floating
at 120,000 feet and watch a payload be released from
the balloon with the naked eye at that altitude from a
distance of 150 miles is amazing.

To feel this air in my lungs...taking huge gulps of
the cleanest air on earth. It's very
refreshing...invigorating.

The people here are amazing. Eclectic. Intelligent.
Incredibly multi-talented. Interesting. ALIVE.

It will be a few years yet before I get good
perspective in this experience and learn how it's
changed me...how I've grown, but as I come to the end
of it, I realize it's having a significant influence
on me. This wasn't just a job and certainly wasn't
just an adventure.

Just as theater has given me a unique perspective on
reality...and the military has taught me important
life lessons...and being in Silicon Valley at the
height of the dotcom frenzy was an education into
itself...

...being in Antarctica is life-changing. It ain't
just a song lyric...if you can make it here...you can
make it anywhere. The harshness and difficulty of
life down here just makes everything else seem easy in
comparison.

And so...in two weeks...after doing much damage to my
liver from goodbye parties...and much strain to my
heart saying goodbye to a place and people that I
love...I'll be off on vacation. Still not sure where
yet. Definitely New Zealand, possibly Australia, Fiji
or Thailand.

Back home in CA by April 1--my brother retires from
HIS great adventure (30 years as a special forces op
in the military) on April 2 and I wouldn't miss that
for anything. Back to Tahoe by April 5 to teach
again. I hope I'm sobered up from Al's party by then.

With any luck, I'll be producing the Arts & Music
Festival this summer, directing a few shows and having
my own theater to play in...and a community to share
my passion for the theater with.

It's a new beginning. Gotta love those.

I hope to write once more before I leave the ice. I
hope the winter is going well for everyone back in the
States. I'm looking forward to seeing all of you
soon!

Much love,
mark

=====
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.

--Albert Einstein