That is me and Niko, my venue technician in Australia. My show has seventy sound cues, so a good technician is really important. I haven’t had a bad one yet, but the day I do I’m going to be really up the creek because operating my show is…harder than a technician-less touring show really should be. So Niko being great meant Australia could be great. And Australia was great.
More on that in a minute, I’m going to try to stick to the photo. It is taken at the Budgie Smuggler. (That, in Australian, means a men’s Speedo bathing suit) The Budgie Smuggler is the artist’s bar. Drinks are “cheap” (alcohol in Australia is really expensive, but the Budgie’s better than most bars), but more importantly it’s really just the place everyone hangs out, if people are hanging out. The Budgie is open until 2:00 on weeknights, 4:00 on weekends. It had a mechanical bull the first week, then inflatable jousting thingies. The Budgie is a place to recognize people whose show you just saw. A place to be a fanboy. A place to yell really interesting conversations over really loud music. A place to get drunk.
And this photo is from my last night at the Budgie. I wish I had taken more photos in Australia. Photos of things, photos of people. By the last night in Australia I was realizing this, so hence this photo.
I didn’t get to sleep my last night in Australia before I caught my morning flight (more on that in a minute). But first, let me just that FRINGE WORLD is a month-long festival, but actually it’s like four separate week-long festivals, since most shows run 5-10 nights. So by my final night, I had that weird end-of-semester-dorms-have-been-cleared feeling. Because some of my favorite people who I had gotten to know had already left. And now I was leaving. And other people I was meeting had just arrived. Comings and goings had me feeling all mystical and appreciative of the beautiful transitory nature of everything.
But that didn’t last too long. The reason I didn’t sleep my last night in Australia was on my way home I saw a fist-fight from a few blocks away. It was short, one guy just got knocked out in a punch and when I got there, he had hit his head on the sidewalk from the fall, and there was a pool of blood forming under his head. He wasn’t immediately responsive. I didn’t have an active phone in Australia, so I ran to a security guard. My shirt in this photo ended up being the first thing on his wound. The guy turned out to be fine-ish. I end up standing around for ninety minutes with no shirt before giving a statement to the police. Cold in the Australian night. By the time I got to the hostel it was time to go to the airport.