Happy Nightmares

I must be nice. Or at least Kate and Terry must think I'm nice because they bought me a ticket to see "The Black Rider" last night. I'd been looking forward to it for ages. What a treat - a night at a real theatre made out of proper bought things (instead of egg cartons and a splash of orange paint) and dressed up people.

The show was superb. The music bowled me over. What an ensemble. Lots of nice low instruments - bass flute, bass clarinet, baritone sax, double bass. Also A SAW!! Played majestically. [Help - I'm running out of superlatives. I'll just use the word 'elephant' instead of trying to come up with meaningful ones.] It was a creepy creepy show. Tom Waits and William Burroughs in the same spoonful was bound to be past-dentist's-chair part-abalone-three-legged-race, and this elephant production exceeded all expectations.

The inamtes of an asylum/freakshow, led by Pegleg, tell us a story: Wilhelm wants to marry the keeper's daughter, but he is not a good enough marksman to earn her. So he makes a pact with the devil who gives him magic silver bullets. To say any more would give too much away. Suffice to say, it's not a happy ending for our hero. Let that be a lesson to you, kids.

What I really love about William Burroughs' work is that it IS the story rather than TELLS a story. Can't think of any other way to say it. It was elephant to see Robert Wilson bringing those words to life. To be honest, I had unfairly assumed that Wilson was going to be the short leg of the creative tripod. After all, he is responsible (in the main) for at least two generations of young actors being forced to endure hours of slow-walking training, and at leas 20 times as many audience members having to yawn their way through the stuff. There's no theatre like Noh theatre! Although the slow walking did make numerous appearances, I found it a good time to concentrate on the soundtrack, which, in case I haven't yet mentioned, was elephant.

Later I was rewarded with some right-proper nightmares. Woke up with the wind rattling my bedroom door at 4am and I was unreasonably paralysed with fear that some demon was trying to get into my room. Thanks Bill, Tom, Bob.

Should Have Known Better

Inept Salespersons R Us. When working in retail one asks the dreaded question "would you like some help there" with trepidation. Should the customer actually require assistance matching shapes and colours, I'd be up a certain creek. Lucky for me the trickiest question I've ever been asked is "does my bum look big in this?" (to which I should have replied "perhaps Madam would like to try a bigger size of tea cosy).

Anyway, on the way home from said job I stop at the local video shop to borrow a DVD which is about the best no-brainer way to end a no-brainer four hours sorting through large tea cosies. I thought I'd try to find the film where Tom Waits and Roberto Benigni play prison escapees. Couldn't remember the title and the movie didn't jump out of the shelves when I browsed.

Should have known better. I asked the salesperson for assistance.

ME: Excuse me - do you know stuff about movies? Can you help me?

10 YEAR OLD SALES ASST: Not really. (Looks uncomfortable. I know that feeling. Boy, I've been there!)

ME: I'm looking for a film. (After all, this IS a cheese shop)

ASST: Oh?

ME: It stars Tom Waits and Roberto Benigni, it's in black and white and it's about their adventures as prison escapees. I'm trying to remember the title.

ASST: (Looks blank. I feel bad - maybe she doesn't know who Tom Waits or Roberto Benigni are. She's trying to think "what were the names of those guys who produced disco music in the 80s? Waits and Benigni? Finally, after a pause so lengthy it would have driven Harold Pinter to the nuthouse): The Great Escape?

ME: No (What to say?!)

ASST: You could look up the actors in that book there and find out what the film is.

ME: Thanks. (I look up the movie and it's "Down By Law". I report this happy news to her. She looks it up on the computer)

ASST: Sorry, we don't have that one. You could try Dr Watt in Bondi Junction. They often have (pause. What??? Weird? Old??) films there.

ME: Thanks for your help. (Exeunt)

FINIS

dancefloor daze

Friday night saw the three of us meeting at the northernmost Touchwood abode (mine) to drive for two hours to hear Kris Demeanor and His Crack Band play in Newcastle.
They weren't expecting us - hopefully it was a pleasant surprise. It was certainly great for us to see Kris, Diane and Chantal again, and to meet their drummer Peter, making his first visit here from Canada.
There were plenty of people there, though few seemed intent on listening to the witty, incisive lyrics or marvelling at the energy of the band's performance. Heavy drinking, followed closely by frantic interpretive dance, was more the style of the evening.
We grooved away quietly at the perimeter, requesting and being rewarded with all our favourite songs. But some weren't happy with our level of (in)activity, and coerced us onto the dancefloor with varying degrees of subtelty and success. One gentlemanly fellow resquested that he be permitted to escort Christina onto the dancefloor, and then abandoned her as soon as she was out there - cad! Another woman, slightly more ripped, persisted in manhandling everyone within reach towards the sparkle of the mirrorball. God, she was strong. It got a bit scary when she started launching a few karate kicks. Kris and the Cracksters coped with it all without batting an eyelid.
A hearty aussie toast to the band!

Them Miserable Sods

Coogee Beach, new year's day, 2am. Them miserable sods playing Macedonian tunes and cliched bagpipe music was uz. Hurrah! What a way to welcome in the new year. And who was it that said live music was dead and gone in the 'burbs?!

Apologies to any Macedonian or Scottish people who respect the music of their respective cultures. We meant well.