Edinburgh

I wonder how many blog posts I have written start out with me apologizing to myself (and several close friends and family members who actually read this thing) about not having written an entry recently. At least three I think.

Well I'm back after a bit of a hiatus, for how long...who knows?!

So after my first six days ever setting foot in Scotland, or the UK for that matter, how is it you ask? Yes you. Whoever is reading this must be curious about my experiences. If you are reading this right now and have no interest in my traveling experiences, I have to beg the question why you are reading it? Are you some kind spy? Even then you would still technically be interested, just not as emotionally invested as my family. Hey mom! I love you.

So on Aug 4th, I landed in Heathrow airport at around 10am. I took 200 Canadian dollars and brought it to a money wizard who magically turned it into 109 Pounds, what sorcery! Landed in Edinburgh around 4pm. I walked out of the Airport and couldn't really tell, much like most airports in the world, I was anywhere different than before. Luckily there is a big sign on the top of a building across the street that says "Welcome to Edinburgh" to put me at ease.

I find the apartment that DeAnne and I are staying at, get buzzed in and take the elevator up, stopping at the 3rd floor, the doors open to reveal a dancing DeAnne right in front of me. I have officially been welcomed.

Edinburgh is an old city, spotted with castles and cobblestone roads. There is also a lower and upper part of the city. The lower part being the original 'old city', where the less financially inclined people lived. There's even a place called Mary King Close where they supposedly bricked 300 people in the underground street, to keep the plague from spreading.

The architecture most certainly lends the imagination to believe you are in a land where dragons, elves and wizards once lived. In present day, the dragons are all gone, the elves are in high finance, and the wizards live on the street as drunks and have lost their powers. To be fair, the two people I have actually seen beg for change looked far too well clothed and healthy to be asking for money. There ya go Edinburgh. So far you have some of the nicest looking street people I have ever seen! What else ya got for me?

The Fringe Festival itself is as everyone had told me. Massive (a population of 1 million, Edinburgh doubles to 2million in the month of August), Overwhelming (there are well over 2,500 separate shows, I'll never get to scratch the surface, but I've already seen some wonderful stuff), and dare I admit...fun? (I'm bunking with my comedy buddy DeAnne, hanging with old Canadian comic friends and meeting some wonderfully bright and talented people from all over the world).

People drink here. I have been staying active and cooking with my friend Dana, but the nights are almost always turn into Bacchanalian displays of dancing, drink, and hyper-socializing. This is the biggest comedy market in the world. There are people here who are helping me realize the vision of performing throughout the world, and making a decent living while doing it. The UK is a gateway to expatriate shows throughout the rest of the planet, and I can't wait to get started.

My first show was full, and I killed it. I knew in my heart that there are things I want to work on while here, and even though it felt good I didn't let the first show lull me into some sort of false sense of security. With the new title, comes a completely new format and I'm getting tired of some of the old standup jokes I do. Which can be very dangerous. Aside from a good new chunk of material that I am very proud of and enjoy, I'm in a comedy growth phase, trying to push newer ideas out from underneath so that the older, less desirable material falls off like unwanted tumours.

I realize that 'unwanted tumours' is arguably an oxymoron. Who would want tumours?

I am very excited to see what happens after roughly 24hours of stage time in 24days. I am going to run up Arthur's Seat tomorrow. A place that I will get into in a future entry. I'll leave you with in image of what I can see of it from our bedroom window. Got to go get my show ready.

JFL 2011 show number one in the can!

Last night was a wonderful show. The place was nearly full and the material finally found a room of people ready to appreciate it again. Aside from being on stage, the most fun was goofing off with DeAnne in the green room in that a particular type of giddy playfulness that nervous energy brings before a show. As soon as I decided to join DeAnne in Australia this year, our schedules are beginning to line up all over the world. It's exciting to think about all the places we're going to experience for the first time together, all because of this strange life decision.
It's also DeAnne's birthday today, which is why I will dedicate today's blog to the most hard working and talented person I know. Whether it's about comedy or girls, there are few people I can talk to at such long length with about the two most important things in my life. I am grateful to have someone like her in my corner. A very very happy birthday D.
What else? Well I am also very grateful to have people like Sylvana whose uniquely creative brain has come up with my new website. It's not completely finished, but man is it on it's way. I feel much better now that I have a good show behind me. It always seems to work out that way.

First Day of JFL

Ohhh shit. Tonight I'm doing my first set at Just For Laughs in four years. I'm just opening for a friend, but the pressure is still there. I have been working at 30 to 45 minute sets the last month, and finding the switch back down to 8mins isn't as easy as just picking the material. There's a whole different energy and structure with a short set that differs greatly from a longer one. First one is you don't have much time to get to know the audience, or have them get to know you. With a short set I feel like all I have time for is firing out the best jokes I can think of in some semblance of an order.
I spent the last three nights working out the jokes that have been doing the best over the past month, and they have all but tanked. I know these jokes work. I know that they are funny. But three brick walls in a row and I'm feeling a little apprehensive about tonight. I'm trying to remind myself about the fun part of it. Maybe if I just get as excited about the material as I can it will infect the audience. Maybe if I care less they will care more (seems to work that way in relationships). Maybe I'll just relax, hang with my wonderful friend and do a comedy show. I've done those before.

Oh Canada...

So I've been back in Canada over a month now. Managed to see some sorely missed people and back to some much needed places of rest.
I've been working steadily while in town thanks to the folks over at Yuk Yuk's. Just finished my first headlining weekend at the downtown club on Richmond St. I got a chance to not only work with some great acts that I admire, but also follow them. To get up and do 45 minutes after Tim Steeves and Ryan Belleville just crushed 10 minutes was a good benchmark to convince myself I haven't been wasting the last eight years of my life. I've started developing the 'Speechless' act, which has one simple rule...don't talk. After talking so much, and often too fast, it's been interesting to slow down and not say a word. I got the idea after watching some acts in Australia demonstrate it with amazing effectiveness. I've been working on my own version of it. I don't throw this around, but when I opened with it in Toronto, it absolutely killed, which set me up for a bit of a disappointment in Montreal, when it wasn't nearly received at the level it was in TO. There's a lot of factors to weigh in there. The layout of the Yuk's club on Richmond is one of the best in Canada, and the numbers for the week were much better than Montreal. One of the bonuses of this past week in Montreal was working with friends Kirsten, DeAnne, and Tim. These are all very funny, intelligent people who helped make the week just by being there.
I'm currently sitting in the Comedy Nest condo in my underwear, listening to Friendly Fires, a band who I discovered thanks to James and Karen (my new pals from South Australia). There are two days left until I get on stage again at Just For Laughs. I've got two days to put together what I think is the funniest eight minutes of material I have, in the hopes that someone will notice. Having worked closely with the festival for so many years, I know the reality of people actually getting picked up for anything is extremely slim, but that doesn't mean I can take the opportunity any less seriously. Of course it's a fine balance between getting focused and just enjoying the performance. I hope to find it before Thursday night.
Only two weeks left in Montreal and then I fly to Edinburgh. All the adjectives I hear people use to explain the Edinburgh Fringe festival are; 'insane', 'overwhelming', 'amazing'. I look on the horizon and begin to get excited about the insanely overwhelmingly amazing month ahead.

Back Home

Hello friends and family,
So I'm back home. Have been since Friday. Australia was a successful trip. I now have people there whoa re going to help me out with Working Visas and money for my return to Oz next year which is amaaaaazing. I've also met some friends for life, something I had originally thought ended when you hit your mid twenties. Turns out. Not true.
Getting back to Toronto to see the family and walk down to the beach was much needed. I suddenly feel that the importance of keeping the house that I grew up in within the family has increased, and I have a new found determination to work as hard as I can in order to make sure it doesn't have to be sold in order for my parents to properly retire.
How fucked is that though? That we live in a system that requires most people to sell their home in order to live comfortably throughout the end of their lives.
People should be able to live in a house their whole lives AND pass it on to their family without so much difficulty. Homes should not be seen as commodities, but as the foundation of a family and a community that surrounds it.
I remember Mrs. Adams, who used to live next door to us when I was little. We would go over to her place and she would give us butterscotch candies. There are many other reasons to like this woman aside from her candy supply, trust me, she was an angel. So after thirty years of living in the same house with her husband, until he dies a few years before, what does her community do for her? They allow something called property value assessment to shove her out of her own house.
Property value assessment came in in Ontario under the neo-conservative Mike Harris government and it is a long shit-stain on the underwear of Ontario. Basically it assesses your home as to it's perceived value, not the frontage (amount of actual water pipe and sidewalk the city had to build for you property). So the focus turns away from having a home as something to live in and turning it into something to sell.
When houses in the beach began to go up in value, Mrs. Adams' property taxes went through the roof because of what her house was perceived to be worth. She suddenly had to double or even triple her payments, because a bunch of people whose job it is to buy and sell homes determined that her house was 'worth' more. Of course they would...that's how they make their fucking money! By shoving old ladies out of houses, bravo (clap, clap, clap).
There is no way to interpret these types of policies as anything but inhumane and wrong. It is laws like these that destroy opportunity for the building of a community. By having generations of families living next to each other on the same street, they can forge strong relationships and be there for each other. The more people you know on your street, the less you need to worry about a babysitter. The less you need to worry about food, if you suddenly had a tough year. A lot of worries would go away because the isolated tribe of two (which is what we've become, we buy more redundant items that way... go capitalism!) would be increased to a more sustainable level.
Seeing as it doesn't seem like it's going to change anytime soon, I'm determined to make a bunch of these goddamn dollars so I can ensure a piece of our family history isn't lost. As shitty as it might be, it seems like I'm going to have to make money in order not to care about it. How does that make sense?!
Okay I ranted a bit there. Still with me? It's okay if you're not, I understand.
So I'm back in Toronto now. Will be here for three weeks. I'm headlining for the first time at the Yuk Yuk's in downtown Toronto. Then off to Montreal to headline The Comedy Nest. Not sure what I'm going to do for the last two weeks in July. Normally I archive shows for the Just for Laughs festival, but they canceled the entire archiving program this year. It's a sad day for international comedy. I used to tape 45 shows that took place, consisting of hundreds of acts from around the world at the top of their game. I've been doing the gig for five years now, and suddenly it's over. Man this blog entry is a downer. Okay on to happy things!
I'm heading to Scotland to perform in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival for the first time ever. This is the world's largest festival of it's kind and I can't wait to get out there. Afterward I'll be staying in the UK until mid-November showcasing in clubs and cultivating as much work as possible so that I can return on a yearly basis.
Oh yeah. I just turned thirty on Monday. I hope this doesn't mean I can no longer be silly. I kind of need that.

South Australia

So I'm back where I started this journey. Back to the land of Great White Sharks, 'The City of Churches' and supposedly the murder capital of Oz, Adelaide South Australia. Yes, apparently this is the place in Australia where the most people are murdered, and in the strangest ways. Supposedly more than a few people in Adelaide have been taken from this world, and then had the remnants of their mortal coil placed into small containers.
What I like about this place, (aside from the strange murders of course!) is its proximity to the earth. The real one that we haven't completely covered in cement yet. In the span of three days, I went crab fishing off a pier (or 'Jetty' in Australian), tended bar at my Adelaide Fringe venue the Tuxedo Cat for a punk rock show where the feature act was a Japanese band called 'The Jetboys' (where the lead guitarist got naked) and opening was a Melbourne band called 'Strawberry Fist Cake', went olive picking, fishing, wine tasting and surfing. This is what about love about the region. All you do is say 'yes' a few times and life is just waiting to hit you right in the face here.
First off, I landed in Adelaide and was graciously picked up by Bryan, the co-owner of Tuxedo Cat and his daughter, Scout. After taking almost a dozen flights since I've been here, being picked up at the airport has now become a huge luxury.


My first morning back I get a call from Karl "Thundershaft" Lyons (bitumen layer, Arborist, part-time bouncer at the Tuxedo Cat) who asks if I'd like to join him on the Jetty for some crab fishing. I said 'yes' and within an hour we were on Grange Beach where we tying fish heads to a net and tossing them over the side. After four hours, we had split a six pack of Jim Beam & Coke (I also had a tallboy of VB, which every Australian makes fun of here, but my brother in law loves it and I love him) and caught only three crabs. Two of which were too small, but one was well above size. The excitement of catching it was quickly replaced with regret for having doomed the poor guy to a boiled death. I'm still not quite sure on where you might draw the line between how much living creatures have awareness of their impending death. Crabs arguably just have a central nervous system, but whether or not they actually feel pain is debatable. I would now like to make a formal apology to the little sand crab.
Dear Mr. or Mrs. Sand Crab,
Sorry for leaving you in the kitchen for my friends to throw in a boiling pot. Thank you for being delicious.
Sincerely,
Christophe
Not the most sentimental I know, but humans are pretty brutal at the best of times. I am no different. My heart is as hard as a sand crab's shell.
That night was spent tending bar at the Tuxedo Cat. Like any music show, the bands started 2hrs late. The show was awesome, and had all the trappings of a good Tuxedo Cat show. Tons of booze, nudity, and the night ending when Cass discovered that the poo smell near the front of the stage turned out to be some cabbage.
After getting to bed around 5am, I awoke at 9am to start my weekend of olive picking with James. I stayed with Karen and James my last few weeks of the Fringe and already raved about how wonderful these two people are. They won't be able to house me next year as they are currently in the process of building their very own home in the countryside where they will essentially grow all of their vegetables, have chickens for their eggs, and live in a sustainable house eventually powered by the sun! That is way to fucking do it!
James and Karen's front porch view.

So this past weekend, James and I met up with his friends Damian and Matt, to pick olives in order to have them pressed for their yearly supply of olive oil. I was told this weekend was very sacred, and difficult to be a part of, but seeing as I can't take my share of the oil back home with me, I was a welcomed with open arms.


I had prepared myself for some hard, toiling work ahead, but being out in South Australian wine country, raking away at olive trees as they satisfyingly rained down into the tarp, I didn't for a moment feel like it was work. I'm sure if I had to do it more than two days a year I might feel differently, but it was absolutely gratifying to look at the over half ton of olives we managed to pick by the end of the weekend. Taking a photo of areas is nice, but I highly recommend getting your hands dirty and actually touching the scenery you admire.
We finished early on Sunday and managed to get some surfing in. The waves were coming on hard, and the battle just to get out on the other side of the break was the vast majority of the work. After surfing three times now, I'm amazed at how little time is spent actually catching a wave. So much of the basics is just learning how to get underneath the big waves that you are not catching, and reading which ones you can actually catch. I spent most of my time thrashing around, successfully imitating a wounded seal, but finally did manage to catch and ride one big wave. By 'ride' I mean on my stomach and knees. Standing up is going to take a few more tries.

Monday was spent fishing off an area that looks very much like photos I've seen of Scotland. No real fish biting, but the scenery more than made up for it. On our way home, we stopped by a winery to taste some of the region's best old grape juice, left with a few bottles, swung by a cheese shop and made it home for a great dinner with two of my favorite South Australians. I said it in the last entry and I'll say it again. To anyone who doesn't like South Australia...you're doing it wrong.

Queensland

My first experience of arriving in Cairns, in far north Queensland, was the plane descending into some clouds that looked different. Their shape indicated that they weren’t just hanging in the air, but brushed up against some solid surface. My apprehensions were confirmed when we broke out from the clouds to reveal our proximity to wall of green mountains covering the coastline, leaving only room for a small two lane road known as the Captain Cook Highway.

We exited from the plane onto the tarmac and the wave of humidity confirmed I was now definitely in a tropical part of the world. It was the middle of the night and I took a cab from the airport to a hostel type accommodation where I waited to be picked up by the woman who was running the shows for the next two days.

That day consisted of hanging at her place with the other Australian comedians, Lindsay Webb (a man who ability to associate words into puns, brings it to the level of high art) and Greg Fleet (a comedian whose adventurous past has given him an infamous reputation, but at present day I only found a selfless and considerate man with a tender heart).

Our first show was in Port Douglas, a smaller town about an hour north of Cairns. We did the show in a large wooden boat house called ‘The Sugar Hut’ or ‘Shack’ I can’t exactly remember, but it was formally used to house all the sugar cane years ago.

Next night was at the Blue Sky Brewery in Cairns, another great show. Instead of partying that night, Greg Fleet and I went back to our rooms so we could finish our books and trade them. Rock Stars!

I had a few days in between my shows and the arrival of some comedy pals who were on the Melbourne Comedy Festival Roadshow. So I rented a car, quickly oriented myself with the left side of the road, and drove along the coast and up into the surrounding mountain rainforests. Never having been in a rainforest before, the sheer density of the plant life is what struck me the most. You can start hiking into it, until you can’t see the sky anymore, but for a few cracks of light breaking through the leaves.

I also booked a trip out the great barrier reef to see what all the fuss is about. The boat goes out to three different reef sites. I ended up snorkeling one, and diving at the other two sites. The amount of colourful fish is unlike anything I had seen before in my life. I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a reef shark, which used to be in abundance, but are currently not something you’ll catch a sight of on the reef every day. There was also a large stingray floating by on one of the dives, although he looked pretty battered and worn out. Large sections of the reef were also shattered, and looked much like a forest after a fire. The people working on the boat told me that much of the broken reef was due to the recent cyclone that hit, and not just a result of global warming and ozone degradation. While diving through the reef, what really make me feel like I was in another world, more than anything, were the giant clams. These hundred year old creatures, with bright purple and neon blue flesh, look just like out of a cartoon, but they are magnificently real. The feeling of breathing while under water is most certainly something I will have to experience again. Traversing the reef and being able to control my upward and downward movement, just by how much air I kept in my lungs was such a unique way to manipulate my movements.

That night I met up with some friends at the comedy roadshow in Cairns, we had some beers at the Green Ant Cantina. A funky little bar with a refreshing ‘Green Ant’ brew.

The next day we took a trip to Josephine Falls, just an hour south of Cairns, where a natural rock slide and lagoon, included swinging on vines that actually held my weight.

The beauty of far north Queensland is difficult to describe. I’d never seen fields of sugar cane before, but stopping out a rural road you get a chance to see things which your eyes have never come across before. Like when the sun hits the sugar cane flowers and just beyond that there’s a rainforest covered mountain in the background. That’s close to a double rainbow.

I did make it back to Port Douglas on one of my road trips, to stop in for their Carnivale festival, which I didn’t see much evidence of anything different except several tent shops packing up. However I followed a sign to ‘Fresh Prawns’ off of the boat, and purchased a container of shrimp that I could not finish on my own. Sipping a beer on the docks in the sun, while feasting on shrimp, was most certainly a highlight of the week.

I’m missing a lot here still, but needless to say, Cairns was a great trip on all fronts, and I can’t wait to go back and do a show there again next year. There’ll be more shows to do and plenty more rainforest to cover. Going to bed now. I have more to share on my return to South Australia with Adelaide Comedy, and my weekend of crab fishing, olive picking, surfing, fishing and wine tasting. For those who knock Adelaide and South Australia...you’re just doing it wrong.

Okay...so here's what happened

Hey blog. So it's been awhile. I know I said I'd visit you more, but some stuff went down, and I'd rather not dwell on it. We still cool? Why am I trying to seek forgiveness from my own blog? I guess I have some blogging guilt is all. I might as well explain.
What started my initial hiatus, from what was a fairly well updated account of my trip to Australia, was being more sick than I can remember. After a few days of arriving in Melbourne I was hit with one helluva nasty lung infection. It was bad. I have never really had a headache my entire life, and suddenly, I was hit with pounding one that wouldn't let up until I finally took some Advil. What wonderful temporary relief! The next few days, if I wasn't on Advil, my head was so messed up that even standing up meant several painful spikes in my from the pressure, walking up stairs was the worst.
Finally went to the doc, who gave me some double strength anti-biotics the size of those mega multivitamins. Took those for ten days, and felt better, physically.
What was left in the wake of sickness was a serious case of the Blues (not to be confused with the AFL team, the Carlton Blues, who are currently having a great season).
I think after such a successful run in Adelaide, not performing for several weeks and being horribly sick was too steep of a drop too quickly. For those that know me (which would be all the four people who are most likely reading this) I am normally Mr. Optimism. If I was a Transformer they would come me "Optotron". If someone wanted to challenge my positivity they would have to step into the "Optogon". You get the point. But the month of April was a tough one for me. I was feeling very low. Which is strange because if I was a cold blooded giant lizard living on earth hundreds of millions of years ago, I would have been identified as an "Optosaurus Rex" (okay. okay...I'm done).
I met some wonderful people, saw some world class shows, and in the end tried some things on stage that created a whole different direction for my comedy, that doesn't require me to say a single word on stage. I also took a lot of great photos of pigeons.
So in the end, as it always will be, out of the crucible of loneliness and depression, came some wonderfully creative accomplishments.
I just hope it doesn't always have to be that way.
Enough of the whinging, onto some good stuff.
I arrived in Sydney and was able to perform at a bunch of great venues, which will no doubt lead to greater shows and opportunities next year. Only saw a very small bit of the city, but fell in love with the two adjoining neighborhoods of Newtown and the Glebe.


After a week in Sydney, I went to Tasmania, which is a beautiful place, and had two very different shows, one in a small country vineyard restaurant, where the audience ranged from 30 to 80, and then in a bar called the Lower House. The highlight, aside from a dozen Tasmanian Oysters for $13 that I ate right on the pier, would have to be going to MONA (Museum of Old and Modern Art). Which is essentially 1/3 of the private art collection of one man. David Walsh. I haven't looked up on him much, as getting different stories about him from different people, made him all the more interesting. The short story on this guy (all of it unconfirmed mind you) is that he is a self taught math whiz and made all of his money gambling.
I'm not much of a Museum guy to start with, but going through this place made me excited about what is possible from art. There's installations, paintings, videos, sculptures, and some pieces that blur the lines of categorical description. All housed deep in a 'Bond Villanesque' underground lair, dug out of sandstone. As you walk through the different rooms, you have an iPod with headphones that syncs to your location and gives you information about the art, interviews with the artist and more information that you simply cannot process in one day. For some photos of MONA and some of my favorite pieces, you can check out the album on my facebook page. The place just opened this year, but I am certain it won't be long until it is very well known worldwide like the Guggenheim or MOMA. It is most certainly of that level, if not beyond. Oh yeah...and it's free.
Another benefit of MONA, was some friendly staff member who I invited to my show. They ended up contacting a friend of theirs up in Cairns, and that friend's place is where I am currently writing this blog.
In fact for my entire trip, since February 10th, I have been relying almost primarily on the kindness of strangers and newly made friends for lodging. This has obviously made the trip possible financially, but more importantly it has introduced me to some wonderful people all over this country whom I never would have met otherwise. I will be writing another entry soon focusing solely on the kind and hospitable people who have opened their doors, offering their couches and spare rooms to this hairy six-foot stranger.
Now that I have come back to you blog, I don't want to let you go. There's so much more to cover, but I think I've done enough for tonight. I need to get some sleep so can get up early and drive along 'Captain Cook' Highway to visit 'Mossman Gorge'. If you think this sounds like Pirates of the Caribbean, you're right, and it looks like it here too. Photos of which I will show you in the next entry. Until then, here's some photos of pigeons that made me happy, even when I was feeling down.

First AFL Match of the Season, First Match of My Life

On Thursday I went to my first ever Australian rules football match, which is referred to here just as 'footy'. Spencer, wonderful guy and old school friend I'm staying with here in Melbourne, was kind enough to find another ticket for me. The match was the Carlton Blues vs. the Richmond Tigers at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Grounds). With well over 60,000 in attendance, it was considered a light turnout for the first game of the season. The MCG is a massive stadium, and as we rolled up to the 'Members' entrance (One of Spencer's pals is a 'member', which means you enter on another side of the grounds, must have a collared shirt, and you can't drink at your seat, essentially less 'riff raff' I guess). All that considered it is still very much a people's sport. Our tickets were the most expensive at $30. The first ever recorded game of 'footy' started in Melbourne, which has brought about an interesting element in professional sports, not unlike soccer in England. The city of Melbourne has NINE teams, and they used to have more. While cheering for Carlton, I was actually cheering for the neighborhood I'm staying in. You can literally cross a few blocks and end up in a different team's territory. So with a meat pie and beer in hand I enjoyed an exciting game of Aussie rules football.



For those of you who know me well enough, sports isn't exactly my thing, but when looking around at a stadium full of people, coming to watch what are essentially two neighborhood teams play, the cultural significance of this sport cannot be ignored.
The last time regularly attended sporting events was the Blue Jays in the early nineties. So one thing I never experienced until now was the drinking. The stalls were just lined up the entire game with people buying beer. There was an entire quarter where we spent watching the game from a set of screens next to the bar, and we among many who were doing the same. Spencer mentioned that it nothing like Cricket, where people are drinking all day, so there's an actual song people sing when the cops invariably drag someone away during the match. Something to the tune of "you're an asshole", I can't remember the exact wording of it.
After an early lead, Richmond started to come back in the 3rd quarter, but Carlton one out in the end. Not only are there still nine teams within Melbourne, but every Footy team has their own song, that you get to sing if they win. Of course I didn't know how the Carlton Blues song went, but Spencer, a staunch Footy fan, sang it aloud with joy. I found it on the internet:

We are the Navy Blues
we are the old dark navy Blues
we're the team that never let's you down
we're the only team all Carlton knows.

With all the champions
they like to send us
we'll keep our ends up
And they'll know that they've been playing
against the famous old dark Blues.

Farmers Union Iced Coffee

I've been meaning to talk about this for awhile. And that is how popular iced coffee is here. It is so popular, in fact, that unlike anywhere else on the planet, Farmers Union iced coffee is sold more than Coca-Cola in the province of South Australia. Now that may not seem like anything big, except for the fact that it just doesn't happen anywhere else. Coca-Cola is the number one beverage everywhere. I've tasted it. It is delicious and sweet, and I love it, just for the fact that it is a tarnished stain on the record of a beverage giant.

Comic Expo & Rollerderby in Adelaide

Just a few weeks ago during the Adelaide Fringe festival I was invited by Kate, a friend who worked at the festival, to go see her Rollerderby team. As luck would have it, the Armageddon Expo (Adelaide's own comic-con) was taking place just next door. So in between the Rollerderby matches I went to geek out and get my space laser/dragon fix with another comic, Zack Adams.
As we walked around the stalls filled with swords/ninja stars/and photos you could buy to get signed by the 'celebrities'. There was an impressively accurate R2D2 rolling around, with a Darth Vader guarded by two storm troopers. At the end of the hall, Lance Henriksen, was finishing up his speech in front of hundreds of people. The stalls had white picket fences, leading up to the 'stars', like Renee O'Connor, who played Gabrielle in 'Xena: Warrior Princess,' as well as many other people who you might recognize if you watched a lot of daytime sci-fi/fantasy dramas. Instead of making you pay for their autographs, they make you pay for a photo to get the autographs on. Or you can pay even more to get a photograph with them.
I wonder how much the celebrity autograph/photograph market really counts in the overall world economy. When I watched the eager fans, lining up to get their signed photo of John Rhys Davies, I can't imagine that there is much enduring happiness achieved from getting proof of their fleeting moment with their television and film heroes. I can see them getting home, lining up all their figurines and singed memorabilia, and thinking, wow what an amazing day. But then they wake up in the morning, head off to their job, and are back at square one. Are they going to be sitting there, answering phones for whatever company they get paid to take abuse for , and right when they feel the hopelessness of where they are in their life sinks in, is that autograph of their favorite star going to really make them feel like it was all worth it? For their sake I hope it does, but I'm skeptical. Of course not everyone that goes to comic conventions is this sad portrait of a human being I'm picturing. Of course most folks who go to conventions are intelligent, creative and passionate people who I'd rather strike up a conversation with than anyone else on the planet. There's just someting about the fetishism of autographs that I think isn't healthy or coming from a good place.
For an example of some creative people. Here's some friends of the Tuxedo Cat, Pontip (Master Chief) and Calixta (Cheetara) who have more skills in costume making than I could ever hope for.
As I was walking through the isles, I suddenly heard the sound of a wrestling bell. We ran over to see a Battle Royal. After all these years it took me going to the other side of the planet and attending a comic expo to see some live wrestling for the first time. It was as unconvincing as you would expect a wrestling show at a comic expo to be. You can see the smiles from the audience while this one guy was getting choked out, he's clearly unconvinced.
The Star Wars people put together a life size action figure package. So I introduce to you, the lesser known, discontinued action figure. Sporty Christ!

Adelaide Part 2: The Tuxedo Cat

The Adelaide Fringe festival was a huge fucking success. My last week was basically sold out, and I didn't feel at all sad about it being over as I'm more preoccupied with what show to put together for next year.
Not only was stretching out and performing 18 one hour shows a great exercise, but going to see so much different styles of comedy was fantastic. There was a ballroom with 10 meter (that's right I'm going metric) ceilings, where the main bar was situated. The Tuxedo Cat ended up being a bit of a hangout this month, as when most bars would close up shop, the Tux's permit kept it open a few hours later. This allowed for some particularly late nights. Such as when Amanda Palmer held a secret show after her concert in the Tuxedo Cat ballroom.

The little princess was playing in the background. Cass (Cassandra Tombs, who runs the Tuxedo Cat venue along with her partner Bryan) really wanted me to get a shot of that playing as it's their daughter's favorite.
For the first week of my shows, I would immediately go downstairs afterward and hop behind the bar. It was a great way to get to know other artists and people frequenting the venue.
The building itself was originally planned to be demolished by developers, but was halted as the city declared it a historical building. Originally a Telegraph house, it then became a Life Assurance company, and several other skins, before being abandoned. While transitioning from one place to another I ended up sleeping in the ballroom one night. Having the old spooky mansion to myself was actually a pleasure, as I grew up on Scooby Doo and fucking love old haunted mansions. No luck on the ghost spotting though.
All the staff here were extremely helpful, fun, and laid back. I remember countless evenings where the right moment of the night would hit (normally around 4am) and we'd turn off the music and being to make our own. The place was just comfortable and open. The anti nightclub.
Another special night was when we threw a show together for the fringe staff, many of whom hadn't had the chance to see much, as they were busy working. The mix of talent, from famous to those who will be one day, was wonderful. The sharp witted Marcel Lucont hosted along with me in the back, tending bar with a microphone. The night was magic. Hard to describe. I'll let this photo hopefully do it some justice.
The quiet halls of this place were home for the past 30 days. What's even more amazing is that it was a temporary venue. This place converted from a shell of a building, back up to code so that five different rooms could be used to perform in, where dozens of shows took place in a month, and it was all for a one shot deal. Next year, I don't know where Cass and Bryan will set up shop, but I will certainly be there.

The beer garden was the backyard terrace built by James and his gang in a matter of days. This place ended up being a big hangout during the fringe. The bar was out of a modified caravan, and the only bathrooms (which were port-o-potties) where out here as well. The final night of the fringe, once everything else has closed down, everyone inevitably ended up out here to wrap up the festival.
It's getting late, so I'm going to call it a night. Needless to say this was a wonderful space that will very soon no longer exist. I'm glad I was able to be here for the short while that it was a reality.

Adelaide Debrief Part 1

Finally some photos to go along with these words. I've had trouble writing recently, because I know I've had all these photos to go along with the words and didn't want them to come staggered. So here it is! A final debrief of some of my experiences while here in Adelaide, and pretty pictures to go along with them. The blogs take only 4 photos each I think, so this Adelaide debrief will be in segmented installments. I may overlap some things in previous blog entries, but now with some photos to go along with it.
This city is surrounded by beautiful beaches, and one thing unique about them compared to other parts of Australia is that they are virtually unoccupied. There are just so many of them, and much less people relatively, that you just can't fill them. Just the other day I went out for my first surfing trip in Southport, SA.
It is one of those moments when you are looking at a postcard but it is moving. The waves were fairly mild that day, so it was a perfect time to go out & learn how to read the swell, and get comfortable on the board. The first time a wave picks you up on the board is distinct and exciting. There were a couple of times where I felt I was about to pick myself up, but by then I would be standing on the board in the sand (at least that's my excuse). From what I've heard, Byron Bay is the place to head for surfing and easy enough to get a job near the beach. So the plan is to pretty much spend the month of May there, and finally leave with ability to ride a fucking wave!

There's something about holding a surfboard that just makes you look rad. This might be just me, and it might have something to do with the fact that I still use the word 'rad'.


Here is James Potter. One of the finest humans, let alone Australians, I've met so far. He works with his partner Karen Schiller, an equally amazing individual, under the aptly titled company 'Landscape Construct' and a garden design company called 'Dirt'. I've been staying with them the past two weeks. For those of you who have read earlier blogs, these two are the ones whose back yard has every vegetable you can think of and many that you haven't. Not to mention several fruit trees, including pears, oranges, lemons, grape vines, olives and almonds. Oh yeah, and chickens for eggs. Basically they go to the supermarket for cheese. The dream of a year round garden, to live completely off the land is possible people, you just have to fly to the other end of the planet.
I'm spending this weekend heading out with the two of them to lay some cement on a job out in Hindmarsh, a suburb of Adelaide, which we will hopefully finish up the first two days and have Monday to go fishing. More on the fishing expedition next week.

Two shows left!

Last couple of shows have been full and amazing. I think I'm starting to get more people who have come on recommendations. The energy and expectation in the room just seems to be higher, and in turn has made the shows more exciting and energetic.
Tonight's show is sold out too, which takes a bit of the pressure off. As things wrap up here in Adelaide, I'm not feeling sad about leaving as much as I'm feeling excited about coming back next year. Marcel Lucont (a.k.a. Alexis Dubus) and I put on a show for all the fringe staff in the ballroom at the Tuxedo Cat. The place filled up and there were acts from all over the fringe. Marcel hosted on stage, while I co-hosted behind the bar in the back of the room. The show ran three hours, with over 17 acts, but people were up for it the entire time and afterward we danced!
DeAnne and I then rode I bikes home along the river Torrens as the sun came up. It's been nice to spend some time with such a good friend, as we often don't get to hang out this much, even when we were living in Montreal.
Got another good review. Planning to surf on Monday. I realize the only reason more people don't live here is because it's on the other side of the planet.

Edinburgh Venue Booked

Four more shows to go. 14 shows later I can definitely say I'm comfortable with over an hour. The idea of pushing myself to another hour next year is more exciting than it is daunting.
I found a new place to stay with James and Karen. Two of the most wonderful people on the planet, let alone Australia.
I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but these are the folks whom I'm going to go explore Coffin Bay (yes, the place where two great whites shared a guy two weeks ago) once the fringe is over. James and Karen live in a wonderful home just outside of downtown Adelaide. They have a huge back yard with a massive garden where they grow essentially all the vegetables they need along trees that provide olives, peaches, pears, limes, figs, apricots, oranges, mandarins, to name a few. They have chickens back there to provide eggs. There is very little they need to shop for as far as produce, because their back yard is as close to Eden as I've ever seen. If I wasn't going to be traveling all the time for the foreseeable future, I would want a setup exactly like this.
Something I forgot to mention as far as adjusting to things here in Australia, is the roads. I've never been to the UK, so cars coming from the left side of the road still takes some getting used to. After 29 years on this planet, it's hard not to look more on the wrong way of the road as you cross, only to be surprised as a car whizzes from a direction you inherently don't expect. I've got a handle on it now, but the first week I was here, there were some close calls. Hooray for life!
I've booked a venue for Edinburgh! I'll be in a 70 seater at 8pm (great time for a show) at the White Horse. It's a free venue, which means it doesn't cost me anything to book it, and it also doesn't cost anything to get into see my show. I figure, my first time over, I want to keep expenses low, meet some people, and set up something better for next year.
Tonight I'm going to see DeAnne's full show, and as many other ones as I can seeing as it's the last week of the fest.
I'm going to spend tomorrow at an internet cafe and properly dump a bunch of photos up. So you can see some of all this stuff I keep talking about. There are already some up here on facebook if you haven't seen them already.

Bike Safety!

I try my best to not make snap judgments on anything. Hastily relating an individual experience with a person place or thing, as the definitive on any subject is what leads people to believe that "All racists are lazy", or "Homophobes don't tip," something we all know has happened, but isn't necessarily an accurate description of every xenophobic queer-fearing person on the planet. Stereotypes are a tough one, some general truths can be equated to a cultural, sexual, or recreational group (Live Action Role Players seem to have a fondness for heavy metal music, if I want to know the best vegan restaurant in town, I'm going to ask one of my lesbian friends). Does this mean that all lesbians are allergic to meat? (Settle down) No. But the fact remains, if I'm looking for some awesome tofu, I'm asking my gay friend, because she'll know. All this is to say that there are characteristics within groups that are similar, simply because the same environment and lifestyle will bring about similar experiences, and those parallel experiences can influence one's style, eating habits, accent, etc.
This issue was raised to introduce a characteristic in Adelaidians I've discovered over the past two weeks. It is far less controversial than any of the former examples, but no less serious and that issue is... bicycle safety.
Yesterday I went to put a new tube in a bike that had been lent to me by Mel & Matt (the couple I've been staying with this past week). I didn't bring a helmet with me, as I was walking the bike to the shop. With the bike fixed, I had a few blocks to roll it over to drop it off at Matt's work. No less than half a block down the street I see a group of young guys that can only be described as thugs. As I pass by them on the bicycle, sweat band firmly in place and hair blowing in the wind, one of them stops smoking his cigarette and yells at me from the sidewalk:
"Oye, Rebel. Rebel! Where's ya helmet!"
It felt like I had been spotted in some kind of sci-fi film, and the discerning factor that I wasn't one of the pod people was the fact that I wasn't wearing a helmet. It's true that unlike Montreal, everyone wears a helmet here. I think bicycle safety must have been ingrained at an early age, and effectively too. I just wasn't expecting these group of kids, who looked like they would rob me for my bike, aggressively promote bicycle safety. But the fun wasn't over.
Feeling self conscious after the considerate message from the youths, I went onto the empty sidewalk and rolled along slowly. When I made it to a corner, I stopped and rested my feet on the ground. Seconds later, a man with long gray hair walked right up to me and pushed hard, yelling "Get your bike off the fucking footpath!" Then continued on his way. Now I know that there must have been a lot more affecting this man than his deep consideration of the city's bylaws, but wherever the hate came from, it still ended up all over me in the form of large concern for bicycle safety. All I could think of to shout back at him was, "I'm sorry you're not having a good day!" Seemed accurate enough, he yelled something back I couldn't hear. Angry people hate it when you don't get angry back.
That was all within the span of about 2omins. Then there was a short incident last week. I was driving as the sun was starting to go down, and a crazy drunk took a break from his ramblings to yell "Where's your fucking headlight!" as I drove down the street. In that case, I had it, I had just forgot to turn it on, which I promptly did.
I'm not trying to condone a lack of bicycle safety, all of these people have their points, however crudely delivered they were. It's just that in my 29 years on the planet so far, I have never come across such a strong public enforcement of bicycle safety, or any bylaw for that matter.
This is really not a complaint, just an genuine observation of some extreme examples of several unlikely characters, and their passion to civic duty. So next time you hear someone talk about how Aussies are tough as nails, slightly racist descendants of convicts; don't forget to add 'Bicycle safety enthusiasts'.

New Gigs and Digs

Adelaide, South Australia

Thursday March 3^rd 2011

My review finally came out in ‘The Advertiser’, which is the bigger paper in Adelaide. It was three and a half stars, which is not bad, but annoyingly close to 4 stars, which you use to help sell your show. The review itself isn’t a bad review, but it is a bad review, meaning that it is poorly written. Even a bad review will sometimes have quotes you can pull such as “engaging”, “hilarious”, or “I laughed so hard, I shit my pants.” But I challenge anyone who looks at the link to pull a quote from this convoluted and confusing mess. That is supposed to be from a professional journalist. Luckily some other reviews have come in like this one, which make sense and I can use. They at the very least give you an idea of what the show is going to be like.

Swung by the Adelaide Casino yesterday. Found out the Poker tables are only open at night, so I avoided flipping a coin with any of the crazy table games. I learned my lesson last time at a Casino trip while doing a Yuk Yuk’s weekend with Peter Anthony in Niagara Falls. Let’s just say that alcohol and black jack don’t mix. I definitely will be sitting down at the $1-$2 Hold ‘Em table before I leave Adelaide, and will report on the outcome.

Just got a text while writing this. I’ve been confirmed for the Town Hall Galas both this Friday and Saturday night. It’s a 900 seater, so I’m excited, and nervous. I’ll get some footage of it and post it next week no matter how it goes.

I’ve got to head out of where I’m staying now, and move into the Tuxedo Cat venue itself. There’s no plumbing, but there’s a nook way up at the top where I can crash. Definitely living the artist lifestyle. This will give me a good chance to really cover the Tuxedo Cat as a venue so you can get an idea of what it’s like. Expect a full report on the venue with photos soon.

Well I should be into town. I’ve been sitting in front of the TV watching old American shows like ‘Get Smart’, ‘Here’s Lucy’, and now it’s ‘Green Acres’. I’m out.