Sometimes I don’t quite believe things that come out of my TV. I’m not talking about nudity, violence or strong language. Those things I do quite believe and I'm usually fine with. A few weeks ago (honestly-I’m not making this up) Maureen O’Boyle was reading the news from a teleprompter on Channel 3 and she spouted out that someone was “seriously killed.” Then the other day I was watching Man Vs Food and the host Adam Richman was attempting to drink 15 (I think) milkshakes. He failed and immediately afterwards said that it was the “Bataan Death March of Milkshakes.” Maybe it was the brain-freeze but considering the commonly known history of starvation and cruelty of what was known as The Bataan Death March, that was an incredibly stupid thing to say. Think about it. If you want, you can click here to see what Wikipedia has to say about the wacky shenanigans that went on. I normally like this guy as we share a love of food but that was a stupid thing to say. I googled around to see if anyone else heard him and commented on it but couldn’t find anything. Ironically I did find this excerpt from the book Bataan Death March by William E. Dyess, Charles Leavelle and Stanley Lawrence Falk:
Our talks about food sometimes drove us crazy. I recall one agonizing session that had to do with chocolate milkshakes. I said if I could have all the thick milkshakes I could drink I would give five hundred dollars for them. This seemed to hit the spot with the others. Our misery descended to new depths.
Boy I do. I’m talking about the Buck Henry character Uncle Roy from the late 70s Saturday Night Live. If you’ll remember, Uncle Roy would babysit (I’m assuming) his nieces played by Gilda Radner and Laraine Newman. He would take pictures of them in provocative poses and they and their parents were too naïve to realize what he was really up to. Good ole fashioned ‘passive molestation’ is guess is what you could call it. The girls enjoyed the horsey rides, digging for presents from Roy’s pockets and sliding down backwards polishing the banister and Roy, well he enjoyed himself too. Usually the parents showed up earlier than expected ending Uncle Roy’s photo sessions. I remember a skit where he was pretending to be a dog and the girls promised to give him a flea bath next time he watched them. Funny sick stuff.
This skit would go nowhere nowadays. Strangely enough, given the sexual mores of the 70s, I think people were somehow freer to do some things then than now. Growing up I remember X-rated theatres everywhere back then. Sexuality was more open and even sexual perversion could be funny. This changed by the late 80s with Reagan, aids and Falwell. Now entertainment in general has changed even more into the yin of politically correct hypersensitivity and the yang of the constant deluge of South Park style, anything goes, edgy, sensory overloaded, shock comedy. If they tried to resurrect an Uncle Roy type character, it would either be criticized to the point of removal or it would have to be made ‘edgy.’ By ‘edgy’ I mean rendered in Claymation, Roy doing unspeakable full uncle on niece penetration with Roy’s impaling clay penis exploding through Laraine’s eye socket and he’d probably make a ‘woman suit’ out of Gilda. Perhaps this would be funny but in a shock valued way only.
I know I know I know! - of course I’m not condoning molestation even ‘passive molestation.’ And if your uncle did something to you that he shouldn't have, well, I'm sorry. I’m just pointing out the fact that in another, more innocent time, Buck Henry made it funny, really funny.
And who was ole Roy really hurting anyways? Then again, who knows what that flea bath would’ve lead to?
I hardly ever get out of the house, but when I do I try to do something special. In my never ending quest to be a renaissance man, I attended what I would call a fringe variety show entitled The Vortex Cabaret at The Boiler Room in Asheville, North Carolina. This show is managed by the Reverend Johnny Lemuria. Aside from his myspace presence, I think he runs the website http://pleasuresaucer.com.
I’m not a very social person, I’m not much for striking up conversations with strangers so I would’ve liked to have gone there with a friend but ended up going alone. As usual, I gave myself way too much time to get there fearing getting lost and showed up way way too early. I ended up walking around town and showing up at The Boiler Room long before the show started. It was a little awkward knowing no one and being older than just about everybody else there. The most awkward moment for me occurred when I attempted to merge into a conversation between who I later found out was Sister Discordia and some guy. She is actually one of my myspace friends although, like most myspace friends, I’ve never communicated with her other than sending the initial friend request. I ambled over to them and definitely got within earshot of their conversation. I waited for a break in the conversation prepared to butt in nicely with some disarmingly humorous remark. It never came. I continued standing there saying nothing. At some point I’m sure it became rude of me but I figured the only way out was to wait for a pause and talk. It never came and they both walked away. My life is made up of these awkward moments, sometimes multiple overlapping awkward moments. I’m used to it. People usually remember the happiest or saddest moments of events in their lives. I, for some reason, always remember the most awkward moments like that time I walked into a woman’s restroom on a business trip to Baltimore 20 years ago. I am The King of Awkwardness. Awkwardus Rex.
When this Vortex Cabaret finally started pulling out of the station. It consisted of 5 acts: 2 musical, 1 standup, 1 puppetry (yes, puppetry) and 1 burlesque. 'Forrest' was up first. This was the first of 2 musical acts. It consisted of 4 or 5 young men playing with some electronic gadgets and singing incoherently while shaking, rolling around or just laying on the floor. I like to think I know something about experimental electronic music. I used to listen to Brian Eno and Kraftwerk when I was in high school. I couldn’t quite appreciate this first act though but I’ll consider this my failure, not theirs.
Next up was the aforementioned Sister Discordia. She was up for just a few minutes and gave a quick drug and sex related rant that the audience seemed to relate to. This is where I realized that only geographically was I a local. She’s apparently a stranger to subtlety and nuance but was entertaining. I liked her. Sister Discordia was a short plump woman who wore a short hound’s tooth patterned dress. During the evening I kept noticing her and finally realized I was somewhat attracted to her. I wanted to squeeze her. Like a zit. A juicy wonderfully plump little foul mouthed sexy zit.
After her ranting was 'Madison.' He was a puppeteer and this honestly was the best part of the show. Obviously this guy put a lot of time into his craft. He had I guess what I'd call 'goth' styled puppets and mingled with the audience.
After Madison was another music act, Elisa Faires and some guy-the act was billed as 'Elisa Faires & Co.' at http://pleasuresaucer.com. I don’t really know what you’d call this. 'Performance art' is too much of an umbrella term but that'll have to do. This is a video of Elisa Faires. They were singing/making incoherent noises and playing some conventional musical instruments unconventionally. Their hearts were into it. I really hate saying something was 'interesting' but it was interesting. I was sitting there during their performance, taking it in and it made me wonder, do you have to have a certain defined appreciation to, well, appreciate this? If you don't/can't appreciate it, should you, just to be polite if nothing else, sit there and stare thoughtfully? No, that's dishonest. Was it symbolic and was I just not getting it? After a few minutes I was really trying hard to 'get it' and then she put on a horned mask and started tap dancing while singing and yelling. I finally laughed-almost orgasmically. I say 'orgasmically' because to my shame, I’d gotten tickled early on and the urge to laugh had been building. I had finally noticed someone else laughing and their domino hit my domino...
After some laughing I had a fun-sized-epiphany. Maybe I was approaching this all wrong. I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings but perhaps laughter was ok and even expected. Why hold back my emotions when they definitely were not holding back their guttural feelings. Seriously. Appropriate or inappropriate, maybe the audience’s reaction isn’t outside the scope of the performance. Perhaps the performance never ended and this write up part is part of it. Maybe I’m still thinking about it way too much. If nothing else you can tell it messed with my head and sometimes it's fun to have your head messed with.
Lastly was burlesque from 'Theatre de Fetiche.' It was funny because this was when I noticed people starting to come back in from outside. It was cute, a little amateurish but classy, no exposed nipples or genitals and no donkeys.
Two or three times during the show the Reverend Johnny Lemuria, read from a good book I don’t pretend to know anything about. The audio wasn't the best so I caught bits and pieces. Evidently a captain of local industry, he's proposing establishing a local currency. I'd love to see those metal drink can tabs become currency because I have a whole bag of them. According to The Reverend's website 'The Vortex Cabaret' is an ongoing bi-weekly event at the Boiler Room in Asheville. The next show is July 29th I believe. Although some of it was a bit amateurish and hit and miss, the performers I saw honestly put a lot of effort into it. I'd recommend attending if for absolutely no other reason than it's different, really really really [ad infinitum] different.
