Intersession: Triangle on tour

Under normal circumstances, seeing an old man in a strange orange jacket wolf-whistle at a chorus line of college students in drag would be reason enough to leave the building, if not to alert the authorities. It is to be expected, however, when Princeton’s famous Triangle show goes on tour.

I saw “Doomsdays of Our Lives” in my hometown of Richmond, Va., over Intersession. The audience consisted largely (that is, almost entirely) of Princeton families. They ranged from old men in garish class jackets to more recent graduates who still cared enough about their appearance to keep the orange and black confined to their ties. And, of course, they brought their children, most of whom seemed to be used to seeing all these costumes by now.

The show itself changed slightly to accommodate this audience which, as Princeton-spirited as it was, was still more diverse than the ones that filled McCarter Theatre back in November. For example, Chuck E. Cheese’s was used in place of Quad when the Mayan king says, “You have to plan these things early, or else you end up having it at Quad," when referring to his birthday party. Were the writers suggesting that Quad is the Chuck E. Cheese’s of the street? I’ll leave that up to the reader to decide.

Other jokes were left in but received very different reactions on the road. Some jokes and scenes that were among the most applauded at school flew over the heads of the older audience that didn’t know what a Slanket or a Ke$ha was. On the other hand, the line “Please, no Penn alums” in an advertisement for a post-apocalyptic colony went over especially well. Not surprisingly, the biggest applause of the evening went to the all-male kick-line, a Triangle tradition, beautiful in its own way, with which every Princetonian is familiar.

Some changes to the show were not planned. For starters, a few actors had gotten sick during the show’s stop in Washington, D.C. (during the actual performance, in one case) and were unable to take the stage. As if that weren’t enough, the robot playing the protagonist’s beloved Roomba lost a wheel during the show, leaving it onstage for the remainder of the scene.

Despite these setbacks, everyone seemed to enjoy the show. This was partially due to the fact that everyone loves a good song about nuns gone wild and the simple truth that nobody can keep from laughing when a man does a duet with a Roomba, but that clearly wasn’t the whole story. Watching and singing along as the entire room sang “Old Nassau” at the end of the show, I could see that, for most of the attendees, the night wasn’t about the show at all. It was about all the other Princeton shows they had seen over the years. It was about the memories made at Princeton and the lives shaped by it. The Triangle show brought Princeton to Richmond, but, more importantly, it brought local Princetonians back, for two hilarious hours, to Old Nassau.