I hit Jesus in the head 900+ times.

It was dark. No light. A big cavernous space. My job is to aim into that void and pinpoint Jesus. And I can’t miss.

In my early twenties, I took a jet to Australia. I was following a friend, another American, who was surfing his way around the world playing guitar. I play guitar too.

My friend met me at the airport, and a guitar store was our first stop. We needed strings. Guitar stores are good places to meet people. That day we met a girl who told us she was going for a job at the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar. I needed a job, so she hooked me up too.

My first job on the show was crawling under the set with a vacuum cleaner. This was what they called a pre-set position. I had to be in place before they opened the house, and then wait for my cue.

My cue was point the nozzle of the vacuum in the air and fill the set with smoke. I waited under the set for the show to begin eight days a week.

That wasn’t my only job. I had to put red liquid lipstick in spears for when Roman soldiers pierced Jesus on the cross. And hand out palm fronds. I loved it.

Show discipline is a whole thing in theater. A show like Superstar had thousands of moving parts. It all had to work night after night; if it didn’t, there could be disasters.