surreal
Today's regular Sunday things were shelved, when Josh messaged and said that he was thinking of visiting town, with plans of visiting the Astor for a movie poster sale that they were having. An hour later and we were lining up in St. Kilda with hundreds of others, not sure what to expect but curious about the looks of disdain written on the faces of the early birds. As we got closer to get in, we felt that it was much more like a funeral procession than anything else - especially with what's happening to the Astor as we know it. (Don't get me wrong, it's good news that the Astor will be re-opening - especially for Josh as it's been very nearly his second...er... third home for ~15 years, but he is skeptical of the place becoming something that it is not).
We hoped for 'good, surreal funeral'ish strange farewell party' atmosphere, what we found was the opposite, and worse. Wave after wave of silent, drone-like individuals, all orderly looking for this or that trinket to salvage and call their own, available via a quick and completely impersonal transaction. Orchestrating the thing was an obnoxious, skinny man on the front stage, talking at a microphone in an attempt to sell a handful of cardboard movie memorabilia for prices in the four-figures range.
So, it was all of the worst parts of a distant relative's funeral - the sad somber air; the sparse, echoing silence; the not knowing how to leave; the knowing that somewhere, someone located probably pretty close to you physically was pained to tears with grief and loss at the whole thing. Added to that was an overtone of subtle capitalism - people competing for the purchasing of goods. So easy to loathe, and no reason not to. Josh likened it to the extracting of teeth from the dead - it was like a boxing day sale on Valium.
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After this came a couple of very nice hours seeking refuge in a beautiful forgotten pub in the middle of Melbourne's CBD - the Mitre Tavern, on Bank Place. I really love Bank Place, and everything about it - the Mitre is quintessentially one of those places that give the back alleys of corporate cities some meaningful hospitality and perspective. We ate reasonable pub food here, and caught up for a couple of hours, the way that we do.
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Finally, we arrived at a comedy festival venue (a bizarre corner of a mid-city hotel lobby) - to see John Kearns' show, Schtick. It was the second time that I'd seen the show, and obviously Josh's first... I hinted that he was probably in for the most niche, arty show of the whole festival, and I wasn't wrong. 'Confusing' and 'surreal' were two of Josh's adjectives for it... he's a hard act to explain to people, other than it's funny on an outrageously awkward, 'is this guy going to kill everyone?' kind of a way. it was my second sitting - I still wasn't sure what to make of him from the first, and I'm still not. This second show was a lot more shouty than the first... I didn't like the shouting. Also, I remember feeling insanely tired throughout, but this was likely just because of the run of emotions of suddenly making a day of today, and then the sleepy atmosphere induced by the pub and the early dinner.
So that was today. The Kearns show was particularly weird, and hard to recommend (I maintain that I really like his show on account of how different it is and how unbelievably dedicated to the cause he is... but he's a pretty scary guy). Add to that a quagmire of conversation that comes when your best mate just returned from Iran and is as confused as hell at the moment - even for his standards... a nice day, but surreal.
I've a little running around before bed, organizing boring things for the week ahead, but I'm ok with that. House things don't make good stories, but they are worth it.
We hoped for 'good, surreal funeral'ish strange farewell party' atmosphere, what we found was the opposite, and worse. Wave after wave of silent, drone-like individuals, all orderly looking for this or that trinket to salvage and call their own, available via a quick and completely impersonal transaction. Orchestrating the thing was an obnoxious, skinny man on the front stage, talking at a microphone in an attempt to sell a handful of cardboard movie memorabilia for prices in the four-figures range.
So, it was all of the worst parts of a distant relative's funeral - the sad somber air; the sparse, echoing silence; the not knowing how to leave; the knowing that somewhere, someone located probably pretty close to you physically was pained to tears with grief and loss at the whole thing. Added to that was an overtone of subtle capitalism - people competing for the purchasing of goods. So easy to loathe, and no reason not to. Josh likened it to the extracting of teeth from the dead - it was like a boxing day sale on Valium.
---
After this came a couple of very nice hours seeking refuge in a beautiful forgotten pub in the middle of Melbourne's CBD - the Mitre Tavern, on Bank Place. I really love Bank Place, and everything about it - the Mitre is quintessentially one of those places that give the back alleys of corporate cities some meaningful hospitality and perspective. We ate reasonable pub food here, and caught up for a couple of hours, the way that we do.
---
Finally, we arrived at a comedy festival venue (a bizarre corner of a mid-city hotel lobby) - to see John Kearns' show, Schtick. It was the second time that I'd seen the show, and obviously Josh's first... I hinted that he was probably in for the most niche, arty show of the whole festival, and I wasn't wrong. 'Confusing' and 'surreal' were two of Josh's adjectives for it... he's a hard act to explain to people, other than it's funny on an outrageously awkward, 'is this guy going to kill everyone?' kind of a way. it was my second sitting - I still wasn't sure what to make of him from the first, and I'm still not. This second show was a lot more shouty than the first... I didn't like the shouting. Also, I remember feeling insanely tired throughout, but this was likely just because of the run of emotions of suddenly making a day of today, and then the sleepy atmosphere induced by the pub and the early dinner.
So that was today. The Kearns show was particularly weird, and hard to recommend (I maintain that I really like his show on account of how different it is and how unbelievably dedicated to the cause he is... but he's a pretty scary guy). Add to that a quagmire of conversation that comes when your best mate just returned from Iran and is as confused as hell at the moment - even for his standards... a nice day, but surreal.
I've a little running around before bed, organizing boring things for the week ahead, but I'm ok with that. House things don't make good stories, but they are worth it.