Our guest blogger, Gabey Lucas continues her Edfringe journey…
I’m currently writing this in an airport, which themselves are a testament to the triumph of human hubris. Who thought “Ya see that sky up there? That place that God himself has clearly earmarked specifically for birds n’ bats n’ such? That’s human territory now.” Absolute menace, whoever thought that first.
That’s the kind of deluded confidence I want, although no doubt The Fringe will only punt me further away from that internal goal. If there’s anything bound to be less affirming than having your emotional, mental, and physical wellbeing stuffed through the too-small sausage casing that is Edinburgh in August, I don’t know what that could be. (Also, does that metaphor even make sense? Please tweet me and/or yell at me on the street with your answer.)
On that note– Ope, they’re saying it’s time to board. Airplane mode, activated.
*9 hours and then 5 hours of waiting and then 6 hours of training and then 1 sleep later*
Anyways, where was I? Oh, right, airplanes or some nonsense.
Well, now that I’ve been in town for almost a week since writing that first sentence, it feels like there’s a few happenings that have been identifiably either Good or Bad. For my own mental inventory, we’re listing ’em:
Bad: The inevitable knee and hip pain from flying 5,000 miles, killing five hours, then training for six hours while being a very limb-y person.
Bad: Promptly getting stuck in my housing room for two hours because did you know it’s possible for door handles to just stop working? I didn’t either! (Thank you to Uni Edinburgh and local joiner Hayden for saving me.)
Good: Selling 0 tickets to my second show so instead of having to put on a show you can just chill and do some maintenance tweaks which was, genuinely, preferable than doing it to one or two.
Bad: Stomach deciding to stress barf at 1 AM my first night.
Good: Figuring out that asking people how they feel about snakes and then when they say “Don’t like ’em” telling them “Oh wow that’s crazy becacuse this show has almost no snakes in it” is a way to make flyering actually kind of fun.
Bad: Walking over 20 miles over the last few days in your one pair of shoes that maybe aren’t optimal for doing so and ending up with less-than-ideal foot blisters.
Good: Finding a stuffed animal pig at a charity shop and, because my show wouldn’t exist without a very hungry pig 160 years ago, deciding that I must adopt this pig as the reincarnation thereof. I’ve named him Jasper. He’s accompanied my flyering from now on and is a lovely fellow.
Good: Getting a reviewer!
Bad: …On a day where there are three other audience members!
Good: Having a pretty fun time anyway with the circumstances.
Bad: Still getting a deservedly average review, star-wise, which I will absolutely not be reading because I’m a wimp.
Good: Remembering that three stars is a totally fine show.
Bad: But then remembering that non-Fringe participants don’t know that and so to the average person AKA “potential future audience members” there’s now a permanent record of what to them is proof of my mediocrity.
Good: Remembering that, thanks to the enshittification of the internet and ensuing mass information loss, hopefully that proof will be incinerated from the ether by 2044. Or maybe even earlier, if climate change and or vigilante groups can wipe out the right servers for me. Fingers crossed!
Good: Jasper The Pig making his stage debut. He’s a natural host/usher.
Good: The wonderful lads from My Last Two Brain Cells babysitting Jasper in the front row for an hour and not kidnapping him afterward, not that I provided them with a choice.
Bad: Remembering I’m pretty sure there was a reviewer in for that show too and I was so caught up in trying to catch the little tweaks that made the previous show to four people fun even though I knew that was destined for a “fine-not-great” review, that I definitely flubbed this one even with a significantly bigger (by my standards) audience. Ha ha. Whoops.
Good: Well, at least Jasper and I are still having a swell time. And I have no more people in for the rest of the run who can publically confirm my mediocrity for eternity or, failing that, at least until the internet explodes.
Of course, it’d be impossible to not shoutout what I’ve seen so far. And I’m pleased to report that the shows I’ve seen have all been — and this is the Latin term — kickass. Here are five words to describe each with varying levels of accuracy (Sara Pascoe and Sophie Duker not included, because they are certifiably famous and sold out as hell, deservedly so, and do not need me to shout them out):
Ladies Who Ranch: Brazilian parking lot sexual tension.
Mel McGlensey is Motorboat: Fantastically nuts tit/maritime-based fun times. (“Tit/sea-based” is one word, because it’s hyphenated. Checkmate, nerds.)
Ian Lockwood: The Farewell Tour: Save Orbo from the computer.
Alex Kitson: Must I Paint You a Picture: Speedy talkin’ Devon sincere funnies. (Full disclosure, I first met Alex now over five years ago and his evolution has been lovely to watch.)
Jacki Thrapp: Art of Selling Out: Cathartically cheeky algorithm manipulation yes.
Andrew Frank’s Pastor!: Elitely accurate, gut-busting (queery) sermon.
Til next post,
Gabey
