we can be geeks, just for one day

After missing a show a few months back, I finally got to see some fellow Arts House alumni in their latest venture, a modern-day take on the classic carnival sideshow. Ringmaster The Great Orbax started the show with a demonstration of how to hammer various lengths of nail up your nose without scraping brain cells, tossing aside cheesy jokes along the way. Down front was a crowd of designated hecklers mocking him at every turn. Also introduced was the old carny staple, the Wild Man of Borneo...er...Barrie in this case (though as far as some city dwellers are concerned, Barrie may as well be Borneo). Only one problem faced Orbax and the Wild Man - the daredevil act of prying open a plastic grocery store BBQ chicken container. It would have been easier to bite the head off a live bird.

Pretty Polly wore a china doll mask as she wielded, then lay upon, large knives, withput apparent injury. Psychibilly music from the Matadors followed, providing exercise for my toes.

I managed to get into the act - once directly, once indirectly. During intermission, wandered by a couple of the performers, heard my name tossed off at the end of a sentence...to provide a Moosehead to calm down the Wild Man. Managed to spill half of it on me before it was time to dash out. Thankfully there were no OPP patrols on the highway later on, even after I washed my hands.

As for the indirect...watching Mme. Harpie's critter-swallowing act, noticed the soundtrack was classic jazz. When Lambert, Hendricks & Ross played as critters were being downed, struck me it was the instant jazz library of discs I gave her last year that were being used. Cute set-up - she's in a stylish restaurant, with Orbax serving her various crawling specimens, in a genteel manner.

After she downed the closing goldfish cocktail, it was time to dash out. Could have stuck around for the jello wrestling, but I wanted to make it back to A'burg before sunrise. The ride back was the opposite of the torturous drive post-radio show. Smooth sailing along 401. with no maniacs and no drowsiness. The trip was three times long than the other night, but felt much shorter. Lesson - ya gotta crank 60s garage rock to get you through the night.