…NOT saying that something is the new something else is the NEW saying that something is the new something else…
Maybe.
Orlando Fringe Crush Videos
During Fringe Festivals we all develop crushes. The folks at Blogging Fringe decided to capture some of these confessions on video during the Orlando Fringe Festival. I’m happy to report that my crush also had a crush on me. A good time was had by all…
And you can listen to an interview that Ryan did with me on his podcast page, Pentecostal Wisconsin (I’m podcast #12). Should you ever get a chance to see this show, you really must. It’s charming and touching and really quite hilarious. Good singing, too.
Road Kill Thrill
Here’s where I’ve been staying while in Orlando – in a house on this cul-de-sac in a very nice neighborhood.
Notice the tiny object in the middle of the road in the above photo? Let’s move in closer…
Yes! It’s a dead snake! This SO reminds me of my childhood growing up in Mississippi! Why would I take a picture of a dead snake in the road? Well, I think I can safely blame the contents of this cup…
…which was, ’til recently, filled with sweet tea. Heavy on the sweet. As in give-a-hummingbird-a-headache-sweet. Yum. I drank the sugar-laden tea down quickly and it got me feeling all nostalgic for the South, which I understand is one of the common side-effects of insulin shock.
Parking Affirmations
If you’re living life to the fullest – really going for it – really making the most of each moment – living life like there’s no tomorrow – etc – then you don’t exactly have time to roll your shopping cart back to the store when you’re done with it, now do you? Hell no…
.
I didn’t park here, I parked in the section where each parking block was stenciled with “HACK YOUR WAY THROUGH LIFE DOING AS LITTLE AS YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH,” which, not surprisingly, was a lot closer to the front door.
Orlando Fringe Tidbits
OK, so I’ve been a bit busier in Orlando than I anticipated, especially as I’m spending all of my non-performing time either pimping my show or doing work to prepare for my summer tour. Or drinking in the beer tent.So far I’ve done 5 of 7 performances of “Jesus In Montana” in Orlando, and each one is definitely getting better. Here are a few tidbits that I’ve been collecting during my time here in the Big O.
From the opening night Orlando Fringe Gala – A guy with a cheese on his head holding the tail of a giant stilt creature. Nothing weird about that, right?
Actually the cheese-head guy is Ryan Paulson, who has a solo show called Pentecostal Wisconsin. Here is his getting a fake tattoo from Rose from Influx Dance.
Now, when you are descended upon by a gaggle of cute girls offering to give you a tattoo, what do you do? Well, you politely refuse, of course, claiming that you’d rather not have a fake tattoo, as you’ve made the plunge years ago for a real tattoo, and that fake one would clash with and diminish the original. Not. You say, “Yes, please.” Then you make a stupid face while someone takes a picture of it for you.
Here’s my theatre – very, very nice.
This is Gina, my technician. She’s awesome and has been a flawless tech from day 1.
My dressing room. Nicest one so far.
I even have my own toilet, which means I can obsessively pee even more times than usual just before a show.
I know, that’s a bit personal, but I’m just trying to be open and vulnerable here…
Readers of this blog will know that I’m a bit obsessed with bathroom signs, specifically the “Must wash hands” variations. But my dressing room toilet has a GREAT sign on it.
The yellow venue is the one I’m performing in. Apparently it makes a really obvious and horrible noise in the theatre if flushed. It hasn’t happened to me yet, which is good. Later in the week this hand-written one was added.
I don’t know…I just like signs in toilets. Nothing weird about that, right?
Laundry Day
First week on the road, and it’s laundry time already.
As I started to empty out the pockets of my shorts that I’ve worn – OK, I’m not ashamed to admit it – every single day, I was surprised at the contents. Like clowns pouring out of a VW. I’ve places the contents next to the pocket in which it was contained for this picture…
I think some close up looks are necessary to really demonstrate the degree to which I live like an 8-year-old boy…
OK, that this one (above) isn’t so bad – there’s my flyers and my little “artist” laminate. Important, work-related stuff.
Car keys, moleskine notebook, pen, “Fringe bucks,” filers to other shows…
Cliff bars, snot rags…
Enough shit for an entire suitcase, all in one of the four pockets…
And, the one thing not pictured, that was also in one of the pockets, is the camera I used to take this picture.
Yes, I do wear a belt.
Orlando Fringe Opening
OK, so my first show at the Orlando Fringe is at 11:15 on a Friday night. Pretty late for a bit of solo theatre, but the way it works is that each performer gets a selection of “on” and “off” times. My second show, which I just finished, was at 11:45 on Saturday night. Way “off,” perhaps, but it wasn’t a bad show, I thought.
The first show seemed a bit flat – I thought I was pretty good, but the overall energy seemed a little low, and many of my jokes were greeted with silence. It’s a pretty intense show, all about being in a religious cult and all, and even though it’s a comedy (or so I like to think) people can sometimes get into it in different ways. Ways that don’t involve laughing, for example.
My first review came from Elizabeth Maupin, the Orlando Sentinel theatre critic. She blogged the following:
—–
Barry Smith is a true believer — to a point.
He’ll follow Jesus to Missoula, Montana, even though Jesus is really a retired chiropractor who wants people to call him Doc.
But Smith doesn’t hang on forever, and his story of how he found — and lost — Jesus makes for a cocky tale that points the finger mostly at himself.
In Jesus in Montana, Smith invents a gullible persona — a guy who drops out of college, drifts around Europe and is ripe for whatever new sensation comes down the pike. He decided early on, he says, that “God is kind of a jerk.” But when a passel of obscure clues points to the Messiah in Missoula, he signs on.
Smith’s story sails on his high energy and a wonderful set of oversimplified visuals, along with a voice-over purporting to be the voice of God.
The seriously religious will find all kinds of things to object to in this comical tale. (Did God really tell Smith to “take some acid”?)
But Jesus in Montana isn’t what it seems: The guy Smith is mocking is himself.
—-
And this, from www.bloggingfringe.com:
Jesus in Montana(yellow venue) is a crazy journey into religious insanity but as Barry Smith starts to really spin his tale, I caught myself thinking “Wow, maybe he is onto something!” Could I be the next cult member???? If Barry were the one explaining it, I too might have been in the basement with Jesus. His style is relaxed and effortless. A great one man show, that keeps you entertained as well as intellectually engaged. Amen
As I make my way around the Fringe I am adding more and more Fringe crushes to my list. I’m up to 5….does that make me a Crush-ho?
The Disney Point
If you live in Orlando, chances are you know the Disney Point. But I don’t, so I didn’t, but now I do. Here is the Disney Point as demonstrated by Disney employee Rob O’Brien, who is directing the Fringe show “St. Kristie.”
First of all, you have to know what the Disney Point is NOT. Here Rob demonstrates:
This is the way a normal, non-Disney person would point, right? Well, an American one, anyway. Index finger extended to make it clear exactly what you are pointing to or at. But apparently in some countries and cultures this gesture is considered offensive, and since Disney attracts visitors from across the globe, well, you don’t want to insult someone while merely trying to show them where the toilet is, right? So…
The Disney Point. Using two fingers. Perhaps a bit less precise, but universally non-offensive. Ahhhh…
Another version of the Disney Point. An open hand; warm, inviting, instructive, non-threatening. This way, please…
More Airport Signs…
I don’t know why I’m so fascinated by the signage in the airport, but I am, and for your sake I hope you are, too…
I flew out of the Grand Junction, CO, airport and took the following pics inside:
The middle part of this is important – if you own a knife, you are obliged, by law, to search your own bag. Now! Who doesn’t own a knife? And, really, isn’t ammunition a pretty loose term? Seems like just about anything can be ammunition if it’s shoved down the barrel of a cannon. Did someone famous say that, or did I just make it up? I’ll ponder that.
Part of me hopes there’ll be a time when this sign will be looked back on the way we look back on those pictures of the white/colored drinking fountains. Kinda like: huh? Seriously? People put up with that shit?
Though I also fear that, once a full colonoscopy is required to board a plane, the shoe removal days will be looked back on wistfully.
Translation: Important Notice – Today’s arbitrary fear-inducing fabricated risk level is “fish.” Please cower accordingly and allow us to fuck with you while you try to take your family to Disney World. God Bless America, and watch your mouth.
I can’t really say why, this just seemed like a strange thing to see on the door of a commercial airline. I’m not saying I DON’T support our troops in the Middle East, of course, it’s just…I don’t know. I’ll ponder that, too…
Thanks For Taking My Bike…
OK, so I spend some time on YouTube. I especially love reading the comments, as I like to be reminded that spelling out the words “you are” is a rare commodity at this point in history, right up there with knowing that the number 2 is not a conjunction.
I was sending a fax (no, seriously) two days ago and as I was feeding one of the documents into the archaic machine I realized that I had written, by hand, the word “its,” when I meant “it’s.” This was unacceptable to me. I’m no proofreader, and consider myself barely literate, but I try to get it right when I can, so there was no way I was going to feed this page into the fax machine and send it off to the Edmonton Fringe Festival and have them toss it into the “illiterate” bin. I scrambled for a pen, the fax beeped like mad, calling for the next page. Next page! I found a pen , made the correction and shoved the paper into the slot, but it was too late. Fax aborted with only half of the documents sent. Of course I had to phone back and complete the 12-page fax, after putting in the absent apostrophe, leaving what must be a great impression with the folks at the Fringe HQ – “Well, he’s incapable of using a fax machine, but he sure knows his contractions from his possessives.”
So yeah, YouTube. I love it. And when I watch, say, a video of a baby being saved from a rushing river by a Labrador puppy, I scroll down to see the comments, most of which can be distilled into the following:
“UR gay retard lol”
But, I think, this is cyberspace, right? It’s not, you know…real.
Yesterday I parked my bike in front of the health club and saw a yellow piece of paper taped to the ground where there wasn’t one before. I only had my cell phone with me to document it, so these aren’t the best quality pics. But, to give you some context, here’s where the paper was.
And here’s what it said.
And, in case you can’t make it out – “Thanks For Taking my Bike you Fuck ing ass whole”
I feel bad for the writer of this note, as having your bike stolen sucks (that’s my POS bike in the foreground, the one with the garbage bag on the seat, so I’m pretty safe from bike-taking ass wholes), but I had to shudder a bit, feeling like a YouTube comment had somehow leapt from cyberspace and landed here in Meat World.
