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Blind Date - High Performance Rodeo with Rebecca Northan

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Theatre

Published: 21 January 2010

Hits: 1739

I woke up from my nap exhausted and half-talked myself into not going.

It would be easier to sit about and drink, there's lots to be done in around in the apartment.

But it's a day off, the last practical day off for a couple of months.

And so I dragged my ass out of bed and took a bath, grabbed a bus and found my way to the lunchbox theater. Where I discover that tickets have been sold out.

Now this was discouraging, especially given the enormous mental effort it had cost me to get out of the house.

Still, it's a night off, and I wasn't going to let it slip away as easy as that. So I popped into the Auburn Saloon next door for a drink. At the very least I could watch the people and the pre-show.

A lot of recognizable faces. People you recognize because you see them about at all the OYR and theater events. The community is small. There's the tall, thin guy with the pale face and dark hair and goatee, somehow associated with OYR. There's the dude with the shaved head and two little "wings" of hair left on his otherwise bald pate, it's a look for sure. There's the red headed guy who looks like James Spader a bit, I recognize him as well, but am not sure where. And Rebecca Northan comes in, dressed as Mimi the mime, and does her pre-show meet and greet, it's all pretty good and I'm damned annoyed I couldn't get a ticket. 

She comes to the bar where I'm sitting. Now probably I should have brought wine and some flowers but as she has sort of called off "our" date by not holding my ticket and I hum and haw while she politely interrogates us ... "Brooding" she describes me, and I launch into a tirade about the "Grab your ticket at the lunchbox theater" that was posted on their website and I misinterpreted (rather naturally I thought) as "Buy your ticket", and she looks a little taken aback, then asks the older gentleman sitting next to me at the bar if we're together and I have another tirade about how we're dating and she better damned well keep her grasping paws off of him.

She wisely gets distracted by another table sitting near us.

Probably I shouldn't have done that. Certainly I should have had something to eat with my drinks....

The gentleman sitting beside me takes the opportunity to introduce himself. He's quite pleasant, civilized, we chat. I hope I haven't demolished his chance for a date with Mimi. And the customers with tickets line up to go to the play and I go to see if there are any returns at the ticket window. The little toad at the window tells me to wait, and at the last possible moment, when the doors have been closed, invites me up to claim my ticket.

It's my lucky night.

Now the show, I won't give it away. If your curious you can click here for a trailer interview with Mimi. Suffice it to say it's 5 star brilliant. Not the kind of brilliant that leaves you musing about the meaning of life, but a laugh-out-loud, gasp, cheer kinda great. And she does it well, Rebecca Northan, better than well, she's provocative, sexy, flirtatious, audacious, she engages the audience, her date, her date's date...

It's highly amusing. I'd give it 5/5 stars. And it's only in town a few more nights, so if you've a chance, catch it. It's very worthwhile.

The Commercial Olympic Torch

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 20 January 2010

Hits: 2033

There are people and noises from the street, small throngs of people are gathering.

It's the arrival of the commercial Olympic Torch.

And because the restaurant isn't yet open and we're curious we go out to the street to watch.

There are lots of police. Vans and cars going up and down the street. Then there's music and more cars, it's like a parade, and a big truck comes by blaring music, loaded with all sorts of youthful dancers "getting down", passing out little Canada-Coke Olympic flags and special "collectible" bottles of coke. As the music fades another truck appears, more waving dancers "getting down", it's the Royal Bank of Canada, who would have thought bankers could be so fun?

Is this a day off for them? Do they simply pick the "cool" tellers and stick them on this van to drive up and down the street for the day the torch is in town? Or are they professional dancers, traveling across the country to promote the good name of RBC and Coke? They don't seem that professional. But they sure are trying to look like they're having fun. Although if you worked in a bank a day spent dancing on the back of a truck might seem like fun.

Do they drive down the highway like this, dancing on the back of the truck in the empty prairie, in the cold mountain passes?

Then there are more police, a squad on bicycles. Police come down on foot, pushing back pedestrians from the street, keeping it clear for the torch.

The crowds, the people, they immediately push back onto the street when the police have left.

More joggers, and finally the torchbearer, smiling and waving for all the world like it's Santa Clause. I'm seized with an overwhelming desire to grab a fire extinguisher, it'd be easy, for all the security and precautions, the millions spent, it all comes down to goodwill in the end; we're Canadians, we have nothing to protest, it's our moment, "lets all get along, shall we", meanwhile the torchbearer, still smiling and waving disappears down the street.

Anticlimactic.

The Haunted Mansion

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Dreams

Published: 18 January 2010

Hits: 1714

It's the standard waiter's nightmare. I'm in the restaurant, serving table, they just keep coming in and in, I can't find the kitchen, get the orders quick enough, and eventually I give up and sit down to eat.

It's the restaurant where I work, only it's not, it's a large mansion, "The Haunted Mansion", that sits atop center street overlooking the bridge and the city and the restaurant is in the basement...

"G", my partner, he finds me sitting and eating and yells at me, it's 6:00 PM, I shouldn't be eating now and I'm fed up, fed up with this working and not ever being caught up and so I tell him to f#$Q%! himself and walk out. 

I'm filled with regret almost as soon as I leave the restaurant. There's a big slide that goes down the hill from Center street, leaves the restaurant, and now I return to pick up my things, final cheque, the owner is there in the center of the restaurant, center of a marble floor in front of staircases that go both up and down, I've never been upstairs, he doesn't speak to me, he's mad, nor does Franco or G, they're all mad at me for leaving and I'm remorseful, this was not how I wanted it to end, and jobs nowadays are tough to find, this is going to be difficult...

I take the slide down from the restaurant, the last table is leaving, they're taking the slide as well, they're a nice family, rich, all our customers are. And I'm wondering how this is the last table, there were so many just a few moments ago when I was inside, I get off the slide at the bottom and looking under it, at the supports that hold it up, and there are giant fossil shark teeth embedded in the stone, and I'm annoyed at having discovered this treasure just after having left my job, and I'm sad as well, having taken the fun slide down the hill, that I'll never be able to take my daughter on it, we're not rich enough, her and I, and I can't afford to take her on it because I'm poor and I no longer work here....

I'm looking at the neighborhood, where the slide exits, trying to remember how to get here so I can sneak back in and steal some more of these shark's teeth....

**Note: this is an entirely explicable dream in terms of daily events, life at the restaurant, conversations with child, etc. Very straightforward.