The second annual RIGZ!, a two-day rigging intensive at LDI 2025, was a huge success. Congrats to all involved, and here is a little ode to toast the holidays...
'Twas the Night Before Opening
‘Twas the night before opening, when all through the house
Not a rigger was stirring, not even a Rouse;
Backpacks were hung by the pin-rail with care,
In hopes that St. Nunnally soon would be there.
The crew were all comfy eating roast-beef and bread,
While visions of chain motors danced in their head;
Uncle Bill in his blacks and Ed in a hardhat,
Had just settled down by the big painted flat.
When up in the grid there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the catwalk I flew like a flash,
Just in time to hear a very large crash.
The lights on the stage took on a new glow,
Gave a luster of LED on objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a motorized gantry and eight riggers with gear.
With a veteran foreman as bright as a nickel,
I knew in a moment it must be Roy Bickel.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
“Now, Elmer! Now, Derek! Now Andy and Jonathan!
On Stephanie and Andy. On Ted, Kris, and Ethan!
To the top of the grid, to the top of the wall!
Now, rig away! Rig away! Rig away all!”
As dry ropes before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the catwalks the riggers they flew,
With their bags full of gear— and chain motors too;
And then in a twinkling, I heard in the grid.
The noise of something loud that had slid.
And I drew in my head and was turning around,
As St. Nunnally came down with a bound.
He was dressed all in black from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A sack full of gear he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a rigger just opening his pack.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the backpacks then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the fly tower he rose.
He sprang to his motors, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Opening to all and to all a Good Night!”