Today started with a little much needed R&R (or ‘rander’, to put it in Haunted Hillbilly terms), with a trip back out to Markham and Bloor. Successfullly stalked the hard-to-find Green Room, where I had a delicious and cheap b-fast on a goddam lovely patio. I’d love to go back there with some folks and have a blast. If only I knew folks!
Hit the Beguiling and picked up some cool comix, including a saucy collection of PLASTIC MAN creator Jack Cole’s ‘Good Girl’ artwork from back in the day. Jack had an eye for the ladies, I tells ya. Wandered out to Sonic boom then, and oddly spied COUNTRIES SHAPED LIKE STARS superstar Emily Pearlman dashing into Honest Ed’s on my way. I’d have followed her, but a) that would have been TOTALLY creepy, and b) there’s no way you’ll find someone once they’re inside Honest Ed’s. Hell, I just hope she makes it out in time for her next performance!
Anyways, at Sonic Boom I stocked up some more on dvd’s, including a collection of short silent films from DW Griffith, and a classic 70’s Bollywood picture. Nice. Then it was back to the hostel for a bit of a sitdown, andI know i’m rambling a bit but as long as there’s incresed traffic on the site thanks to the Summerworks crowd, I might a well bend your ears a little, yeah? Peace.
On to the first show of the evening! A trek via streetcar (after even MORE shopping at Black Market…new clothes for V!) out to the Lower Ossington Theatre, my first time at this venue. As I waited, I saw a particular actress who I KNOW I’ve seen in something before, but I can’t for the life of me remember what. I’ll scour my archives and uncover the truth, because it’s driving me crazy. Does that ever happen to you? Man.
Anyways we got let in and got treated to BLISS, a perfectly wonderful 4-hander of a showthat was either about Celine Dion, hero worship, brutal abuse, terrible work conditions at Wal-Mart, or all of the above. A terrific show, with rock-solid voices all around. One of the actresses even drew blood right before my eyes, and didn’t flinch. That’s committment to the art, folks. I do hope she’s all right…one always worries when there’s blood left on the stage after the show.
A quick respite after that, and I dashed to the quaint looking pho joint I saw on the way up from Queen. It’s a good choice, and the soup is killer bee. Return with a bit of a walking tour of Ossington, and decide to nip in and grab some yummy-looking pastry from another shop, and who do I find in there? Freaking Emily Pearlman! I swear I am not stalking her, seriously…I could do that shit in Ottawa. But no, she’s on her way in to my next show as well, which is another gooder by the name of MOLOTOV CIRCUS. By a Winipeg troupe, this is a wonderful story about a somewhat struggling family, who just happen to be traveling russian gypsy carnies. The gang goes all out for the portrayal of this odddball clan, with the father doing the entire show on enormous stilted legs, while Mama Molotov chanels Chaney from THE PENALTY and has her legs stashed up into stumps for the hour. Hats off, tho it’s the children who end up stealing the show with a couple of the more…shall we say únexpected’moments of the proceedings. It’s a lovely and amusingly disturbing show with some simple truth at it’s freakish center.
I was feeling a little out of sorts, then…all this time alone in TO is getting to me, so I wandered off into the night. Had a few beers at Michaels bar, and almost instantly made a few low-rent friends who gladly would have chewed my ear off for hours about the Blue Jays and what not if I hadn’t come to a decision. This is a vacation, after all, and I felt like a treat…so, what the Hell, I decided to RIDE THE CYCLONE again. Sorry gang, but a fun time is a fun time. And admiration again to the Atomic Vaudeville crew for putting on such a whip-smart zinger of a performance. You made me go to sleep with a smile.
All new shows tomorrow, I promise…gonna scout Kensington Market a spell, and then I’m off to the Theatre with renewed vigor. Hell, I may even TALK to someone today! …maybe. Wish me luck,