No seriously, read no further. For this entry is full of cheese. But then, if you read me profile then you’ve already been warned and deserve every hive that you get.
Ladies and gentlemen…
“My last night in Melbourne” by Jenny Wynter.
I supported NSW comic Delores in her solo show “Happiness is a Warm Ukelele” in the city. The audience are ring-ins from the bar downstairs and are pretty tough to please but in retrospect, I can see the funny side. Halfway through my ‘pensioner’ bit (where I act out a meddlesome pensioner giving me parenting advice in public – a true story) it struck me that the largest table of people in the very sparcely attended room actually probably fall into that category. They chuckled a little, but at the end when I finished off with the “One Night in Labour” song and launched into the baby-cam…dead silence. I almost laughed as I was performing the ‘baby coming out’ bit, thinking “I cannot believe I’m here in front of these geriatric conservative yuppies, while my arms are busy being a vagina.”
Did they laugh? Nup. Did I care? Nup. Because I’m now Little Miss Too-Cool-For-Comedy. Not really, but doesn’t it have a nice ring to it?
Afterwards had a great long chat with Delores who passed on some advice Akmal Saleh gave her a while back: “Don’t rush it, you’ll find your crowd. And they’ll find you. And then they’ll come and pay to see you.”
It seemed very fitting advice, given the night’s audience – it didn’t bug me because they really are NOT my audience at all, and realising that you don’t need to be funny to absolutely everybody (and surely never could be even if you wanted to) takes the pressure off big-time. I know the best gigs I’ve ever had have been where the audience love me and I love them. We fit.
We continued chatting and got all excited throwing ideas around. We came up with a cool concept for a joint mummy-themed show to potentially tour in November, which Rachel has already flipped out about and is keen to produce the Melbourne leg. I know, I know, madness, absolute madness given my new resolution, but I did make it clear to Delores that I needed to have a big long heart-to-heart with hubby before I could commit to anything at all. But it feels nice to have some semi-solid kind of outcome spring from my time here.
I then took the long way walking to the car and soaked up the sights of the inner city which have become part of my general landscape over the past fortnight. There’s the cafe where…there’s the pub where…there’s the corner where…I could almost hear my own musical soundtrack with credits rolling.
Outside the Town Hall I bumped into Nish and Alan again on their way to see a show. They were so sweet, asking how I was feeling after their pep-talk – see? Maybe comics aren’t completely self-absorbed after all. I almost drooled looking at the line-up at the Umbrella Revolution tonight – Tim Minchin, Eddie Perfect, The Bedroom Philosopher, The Renegades of Folk and more. But no. I decided not to squeeze another back-breakingly inspiring but exhausting night into the tour… now THAT, my friends, is real progress.
Driving home I managed somehow to get completely and utterly lost and ended up near Lygon Street (reprise of credits music here) where I spotted an open foodstore. Desperate to get Rachel a suitably nice pressie for her unbelievable generosity (damn me for leaving it til the last day and only then realising it was a public holiday!) I went in. I found what I needed, paid for it and only then spotted a card on the counter:
Don’t Quit
When things go wrong as they sometimes will, When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill, When the funds are low and the debts are high And you want to smile, but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit. Life is queer with its twists and turns, As everyone of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about When he might have won had he stuck it out; Don’t give up though the pace seems slow – You may succeed with another blow. Success is failure turned inside out – The silver tint of the clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems so far; So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit – It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.
I know it might sound nauseating, but this just couldn’t have spoken to me more clearly at a more appropriate time. With regards to both areas of my life currently under crisis – comedy and family – I feel like it doesn’t get much clearer than that.
Lost in Lygon Street (absolutely NOWHERE near Yarraville where I was trying to get to) I entered a random food-store feeling shattered, and left with a beaming smile. As I worked my way through the city streets back towards the West Gate Bridge, I passed a very fitting sight: a massive billboard advertising Lano and Woodley’s final show during the Melbourne Comedy Festival. It reads simply “Good Bye.”
Goodbye Melbourne. I’ll miss ya.
***
Now onto the Tassie leg of the tour: three gigs over the next three nights, and then six days of rural recovery. Aaaaah. I doubt my net access will be that good, but rest assured I’ll do my best! In the mean-time, please, do try to contain yourselves. I don’t want anyone getting hurt on MY behalf.