Jail Break

About a month before the event, Stephen, my husband, (not his real name) reported on a "Jail Break" held in Cody, WY, at which some LDS kids amused themselves by sneaking from the First Ward chapel to the Second Ward chapel, about a mile and a half distant, while their advisers searched for them with flashlights. Everyone had a good time and no one required the use of municipal support systems (e.g., the hospital emergency ward, fire department, ambulance service, police units, animal control, child protective services, Fish and Game wardens, air traffic controllers, SWAT teams, etc.). The wheels clicked and, after about a nanosecond of serious deliberation, the thought materialized, How can the Psych Club make money off of this?

At my suggestion that we hold a Prison Break, club members went absolutely wild with enthusiasm. A half hour later, after the adrenalin-sponsored frenzies had subsided, everyone had ideas, wanted to participate, and wanted their advisor to do all the work (that would be me). Any professional dealing with college activities knows that the two most important factors to a successful event are beer and sex--but there wasn't much we could do about it so we concentrated on, 1)lots and lots of advertising and 2) work delegation.

Sydney (not his/her real name) stepped right in, "I'll OK it with the Associated Student Body and take care of advertising, prizes for the winners, flashlights for the spotters, Ninja throwing stars for the losers, certificates of participation, the finish line, punch and cookies, the circus tent, loud music, a disco ball, refreshments, and pony rides."

"You're my main dude," I crooned.

Wanting to begin our prison break in a theme-relevant venue, I made an appointment with the Taft Chief of Police. Chief Mac Mann (not his real name), with one eyebrow cocked in obvious skepticism, listened for a half hour as I explained our plans. Then he asked, "What?"

I summarized, "We would like to hold a Prison Break during which some mature, sensible and reliable College Students would attempt to run from your impressive and well-kept prison to the Taft Campus and not get caught by other trust-worthy, safety-conscious and capable fellow scholars."

Chief, "A bunch of kids galloping head-long across the highway in front of K-Mart after dark? I think not."

Me, "What if we promise to get Leona, the crossing guard, to conduct participants safely across the highway at the light?"

Chief, "She's booked. Competent crossing guards are hard to find and she's always in demand."

After conferring with several local agencies and officials, I spent the next month arranging and rearranging our starting point. Among those with whom I counseled where College President, Wilhelm Dunkin; Vice President of Student Affairs, Rock Mac Murray; Department Chair, Chere Eveland; Judge Munch, Governor Schwartzenager; Steven Speilberg, the U.S. Senate; and Gladys Knight and the Pips (not their real names). About a week before the event, I realized that I had not heard from anyone about their assignments--especially Sydney.

Tuesday, Oct. 21: email to Sydney: "As per Jail Break, scheduled Oct. 30th, advertising in critical condition! Please see me stat with proposed flyers."

Friday, Oct. 24: Email to Sydney: "Advertising on life support! Get your buns into my office today or else!"

Monday, Oct. 27: Email to Sydney:

Dear Sydney,

I miss you terribly. Was it something I said? When will I see you again?

Love, Your Dedicated Advisor,

Ms Baver (not my real name)

The night of the event, 32 1/2 participants showed up. Runners included four Taft college jocks, six students hoping to earn extra credit by participation, one high school long-distance runner, his cousin, one mother with a stroller and baby, five gang members who wanted to fine-tune their police evasion skills, 12 off-duty cops volunteering as catchers if they could use their tasers (their help was reluctantly declined), and a cowboy. That left thirteen paying contestants.

Results: The cowboy's horse was too conspicuous for Taft nightlife; they were immediately spotted and disqualified. The long-distance runner won, his cousin came in second, and the mommy and baby came in third and a half. We drew names to award movie tickets and free pizzas to non-winning participants. Then we retired to the Student Union (the circus tent, etc. never actualized) and rifled foam rubber Ninja throwing stars at each other until we got bored.

Next year we will streamline the process, starting preparations in August. I further assert that Sydney is definitely the key to a successful event; we won't let him help. I think it has a chance.