Making Mama Proud

by Waites Laseter | photography by Chuck Thomson

A cell phone rings on a battered desk in the office of Wilmot Greene, owner of the Georgia Theatre, one of the anchors of Athens' downtown scene. Greene’s piercing blue eyes move from the real-time tracking of online ticket sales to his cell phone, scanning the caller-ID.

“I’ve got to take this,” he says as he opens the flip phone and places it to his ear.

Greene has owned the celebrated Georgia Theatre for a little over a year, but his office shows the wear and tear of previous owners. The wood paneling on the walls looks like it originated in the early 1950s, and the furniture is a jumble of Office Depot chairs and desks that seem discarded from a dorm room. The walls are covered with posters of past acts and a corkboard featuring legal documents and licenses surrounding a picture of the Pussycat Dolls. The window of this second-story office is parallel with the red, white and flashing-light-bulb accented Georgia Theatre sign. A bit of clear sky and the back of the bright red letters “RGIA TH” shine through the window.

“Sorry about that,” Greene sincerely apologizes with a look of slight embarrassment on his face. “That was my mom.”

The venue itself has the well-loved look one would expect from Linus’ security blanket. Appearances can be deceiving, though, since the Georgia Theatre boasts the same state-of-the-art sound system used in many major Atlanta venues. Thanks to this investment, audiences can hear every note played on stage, from the softest guitar strum to the loudest drum roll.

The Georgia Theatre has a charm that you have to see to truly understand. The concrete floor is chipped and pocked from the heels of countless feet that have moved to the music on it. The tiled ceiling looks like it belongs in a public high school, save for the occasional ripped or missing tile and numerous water marks. The once-black curtains along the wall are now an unusual shade of dark greenish-gray and flaunt a few rips and tears. The maroon curtain hangs over the stage like a set of rounded teeth, with an impressive set of lighting equipment framing the gaping jaws of the stage. Structural improvements are being made to the roof and the electrical wiring, with aesthetic improvements to the curtains and seating expected next year. Throughout the venue, tucked in corners and featured prominently in the center of the stage, white paint and chalk are used to inscribe “Welcome to the Georgia Theatre. Make Mama Proud.”

“It’s kind of our slogan here,” Greene states proudly. “I have no idea where it came from.”

The Georgia Theatre has a long history in Athens. With the foundation laid in 1890 and the building completed in 1894, the Georgia Theatre has been a staple of Athens life longer than Sanford Stadium. Originally a YMCA, the Georgia Theatre has been a music venue since the 1930s, playing host to the likes of R.E.M., the B-52s, the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Dave Matthews Band, just to name a few.

Tonight is no different; one of the biggest shows of the year is prominently displayed on the marquee. Jump, formerly Jump Little Children, will play their last show in Athens tonight. “I think we have a sell-out on our hands,” Greene mumbles to no one in particular as he stares at the online ticket returns.

Running one of the town’s largest-capacity venues is not an easy job. “Money matters can get very complicated,” Greene says with a small grin. “If you make a mistake by paying the band too much, that money’s gone. If you pay them too little, the problem can be fixed, but you start to get a bad reputation. Bands will boycott a venue over that.”

On top of the money issues, there are ticketing concerns, especially on the day of the show. If one record store runs out of tickets, Greene needs to know where to send patrons instead. Then there are issues with alcohol.

“There’s an urban legend that the keg lines here aren’t clean; that if you drink the beer on tap, you’ll get sick.” Greene takes a moment to roll his eyes. “We push the tap beer, which means beer is constantly running through the lines, keeping them clean. And just to put all questions to rest, I had the lines replaced six months ago.”

Jump is running about an hour behind, yet Greene shows no distress. Once they arrive, the theatre crew moves like a well-oiled machine, unloading thousands of dollars worth of equipment casually. As the members of Jump set up their amplifiers and instruments, Greene meets with his staff for the night. He explains that there is an extra $2 charge for the under-21 crowd, and he demonstrates to a few of his personnel the quickest way to take the money: putting five dollar bills on bottom and ones on top for ease. Greene laughs to himself as he notices an obviously intoxicated patron fumbling with his wallet as he pays for his ticket.

“The worst part of my day is when, near the end of a show, some stumbling drunk guy approaches me and says, ‘Dude, you should totally book the Allman Brothers Band,’ or something like that,” Greene says. “There’s no way I can book a huge act like that, I’d have to charge like $250 for tickets to come out even. I make very little money from the door. Most of my money comes from alcohol sales.”

This poses a major problem for tonight’s show. Jump’s fan base is relatively young, meaning very little alcohol revenue for the Theatre. Though most venues downtown charge an extra dollar or two if you’re under 21, Greene tries to shy away from this practice as much as possible.

“My theory is, get them hooked to the place before they can drink, and they’ll come back when they can,” Greene explains. “Realistically, though, with a crowd like tonight’s, I’m almost forced to tack on the extra charge.”

People begin lining up outside the Georgia Theatre hours before the doors open, hoping to secure a coveted spot against the stage. After the doors open, the stream of people entering the theatre seems endless; at one point, even Greene takes a shift on the doors, tearing tickets and collecting money from the minors. The surcharge message did not quite get around to everyone, leaving many patrons with a paid ticket, yet without the extra two dollars to get through. Greene is not heartless; after talking to the occasional “poor college student,” as they label themselves, Greene lets them in. “A positive experience this time means they’ll come back next time,” he claims.

Jump serenades a huge throng of avid fans, but, to the staff of the Georgia Theatre, this is just another night on the job, just another band—number 320 for the calendar year. After the bulk of the crowd has passed through the door, the staff breaks up into small groups; sound and light guys sharing cigarettes and telling war stories of the business, doormen using ink stamps to brand each others’ necks and foreheads.

Greene spots the same intoxicated patron from earlier, swaying off-rhythm from the rest of the audience. “The puke factor’s low tonight,” he says with a sigh of relief as Jump goes into their second encore. The sloshed character trips and falls as Jump finishes their emotional last show in Athens.

Jump’s last notes have echoed into nonexistence, and the fans have left in a state of euphoria. The Georgia Theatre is abandoned, save for the exhausted members of Jump, the staff and a few groupies hoping to meet the band. The sloped concrete floor is a mess of beer cans and drained plastic cups. The sleepy staff picks up an impromptu game of crushed beer-can soccer, kicking the refuse down the floor toward the stage and a grouping of trash cans. Meanwhile, Greene brings in a trio of pizzas from Little Italy down the street for his hungry workers. It’s 3 a.m., and another successful night at the Georgia Theatre is winding to a close.

The Georgia Theatre combines the quality sounds of an expensive major Atlanta venue with the relaxed nature of a college town. The venue’s top-notch sound quality and gung-ho staff allow it to play host both to major bands, like R.E.M. and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and to more independent bands, such as Jump and Bright Eyes.

“The venue is amazing,” says Jim Boggia, who opened for Jump. “It’s like stepping back into the 1930s. I kept waiting for Gretta Garbo and Clark Gable to come up on the silver screen.”

Combine this charm with a relaxed atmosphere, and it is no wonder that, to many Athens residents, the Georgia Theatre feels like a second home. Rest assured, Greene. Mama is proud.