Dealing with LDS cabin fever

The past couple of weeks, a play by Melissa Leilani Larson — a Mormon writer with a musical name — has been playing at the Provo Theatre Company. The little theater is not only off Broadway, but more important, it is off campus.

"Standing Still Standing" is a play about many things — marriage, temptation, friendship and most of the deadly sins. But even though virtually everyone involved is LDS, one thing the play isn't is Mormon. In fact, the topic of religion never comes up.

As I was sipping nonalcoholic champagne and wolfing down cupcakes at the post-play reception, I gave that notion some thought.

After the publication of "Standing for Something," President Gordon B. Hinckley was asked why the president of the LDS Church would write a book that never mentioned the church.

"I wanted to see if it could be done," he said.

But I don't think that was the motive of the young folks of the Provo Theatre Company.

I think they were after something else.

I'm convinced many Mormons — especially young Mormon artists — get cabin fever. They feel cramped, cooped up. They feel emotionally claustrophobic — the way my dad did when he'd leave his seat at the movies to pace around the lobby.

The way my wife does when she throws open a bedroom window in the middle of the night.

When I was at BYU in the 1970s, we'd get an attack of MCF (Mormon Cabin Fever) and head to Steelworkers, a little off-campus dance hall. The lights were lower there, the music louder. Alcohol was never served. In fact, most kids followed the dress code. But like the characters in those candy bar commercials, we just needed to "get away."

We felt stir-crazy.

We needed to feel free.

Was what we did inappropriate — or even sinful?

I don't think that's the right question to ask.

People are people. And since time began they've needed to stretch.

Sometimes it comes out in jokes about the Mormon culture.

Sometimes it comes out in dances in the dark.

Sometimes it comes out in joining little off-campus theater companies that serve nonalcoholic champagne,

So what is the right question to ask?

It's this: How should I respond?

And the right way to respond, I think, is to roll with it.

Don't overreact. Don't indulge in "dark fantasies" about young women drinking fake wine and ending up in fishnets on State Street.

That's blue-nose stuff. Fodder for scolds.

Do kids sometimes get too far out on the edge and fall?

Of course. Most people can tell stories about such things.

But for the most part, people just need air. They need to get up and walk around in the lobby. They feel wrapped in swaddling clothes and want to stretch.

"Standing Still Standing" is a chance to stretch.

Interestingly, it's a very secular play built on a moral foundation. Nobody uses foul language or dresses revealingly. Pretty much everyone in the play behaves rather well. The closest thing to "wickedness" is an unintended mix-up about marital status.

In short, it is a very Mormon play that never utters the word Mormon.

But then I think those kids sipping nonalcoholic champagne already knew that.