Around
the States in Eighty Days
Being an irregular and erratic account by the
Greedy Bastard himself as he sets out to traverse America on
a comedy tour.
Day
Sixty Three. Fuck Christmas!
Wednesday,
December 3, 2003 - Day Off Seattle
Wow.
Last night was a blast. I don't remember a noisier reaction
from an audience ever. Not even in the old Python days. Two
thousand one hundred people were jammed into the Orpheum Theater
and boy did they have a good time. Huge explosions of laughter
greeted my opening gags, waves of sound like thunder claps
came bounding back from the depths of this old theater. They
almost pushed you over on stage. It was gigantic. I don't
recall anything like it. It was almost scary and this old
house, decorated in Moroccan bordello style, reverberated
with their response. I can die a happy man, with "Remember
Vancouver" on my lips as I expire backstage in some Birmingham
shit hole.
The Canadian Northwest has been triumphant for us. All houses
were sold out by The House of Blues guys, who presented me
with an engraved silver pen in gratitude. I am glad to say
they used the original poster I designed and it was everywhere.
We started out loud and full at Edmonton and built in Calgary
and last night in Vancouver capped it all. They screamed and
bayed and stood and roared. At the end I said I'd like to
try out a new song John and I had just written, and craved
their patience for the world premier of this new song. Well
I could hardly get past the first line.
John
played a soft Christmassey Jingley Bells intro. It was Bing
Crosby time.
"Fuck
Christmas" I began.
Well
I had to stop. The gales of laughter that greeted that line
were overwhelming. We began again, more huge laughs. They
laughed and cheered at every single line. At the end of Verse
One I had to stop them they were applauding and yelling so
hard. We managed to get through Verse Two to hysteria but
the capper last two lines had them screaming. I have never
witnessed anything like it. It was beyond gratifying. John
stood and beamed and we shook hands. We have been working
together for many many years and have got used to being ignored,
unpaid and rejected and yet still we soldier on because we
like each other and we like what we do, but I doubt either
of us will ever forget the reception for that song. It was
like the end of a movie. As we shook hands with tears in our
eyes you could feel the credits rolling. A remarkable moment
in life and one I feel very proud to have experienced. I doubt
even Gilbert in his prime managed to drag such belters from
his audience. I sometimes look at John on stage and feel so
grateful he is in my life. He follows me about on these insane
trips with never a complaint or a murmur. He is constantly
working twelve hour days in unpaid studios turning my sketches
into fully orchestrated music. He is a total joy to be around
and is the wisest and most patient and most professional of
men. How did I ever do without him?
Peter had been against this song from the beginning. Something
about it really upset him, though Jen and Gilli both said
"no it's funny." But at the rehearsal yesterday
he finally and nicely came up and said "I've changed
my mind." Perhaps it was the two street teamers Tracy
and Amanda yelling with laughter from the back of the hall,
perhaps he had realized that it really isn't an attack on
Christianity, but shopping, still I took the precaution of
only trying it out in the encore slot after the main body
of the show with just John and me on stage and with Lumberjack
as an escape route. I needn't have worried. Fuck Christmas
is going to become a legendary song, a perennial, played and
sung wherever disgruntled shoppers gather in super heated
malls. I'm intrigued to see how it will play in the USA tomorrow.
We moved south overnight to some softer markets. San Fran
is looking very thin. Wish we could have brought the House
of Blues guys with us. There is an audience out there, and
this show really rocks, it's just a question of letting them
know we are in town. We have found that posters and street
teams have really paid off. But each local promoter has his
own ideas and we are slightly at their mercy. They should
read the reviews…
Back in the good old USA after a 1.15 stop at the Border.
They made us get out of the bus and present our Green Cards
and Passports. Only one guy was on duty and there was a huge
tailback of trucks waiting to cross. Lish cleverly cut in,
saving us about an hour and a half and inside the guy on duty
couldn't have been nicer. It was another two hours to Seattle
but I couldn't sleep I was so exhausted.
What a clever fellow is Skip. He knows the best hotels. In
Seattle we check into the Sorrento the most admirable boutique
hotel decorated like an Italian palazzo, with white marble
bathrooms and square shaped sinks, and large warm beds with
soft white comforters and three types of rectangular European
pillows in the softest downs. As we approach at 3.15 in a
soft drizzle the hotel shines out welcoming with hundreds
of white lights and decorated Christmas trees everywhere and
hedge bears holding golden balls, kitsch but warm and comforting
and friendly. The carpets are deep and the interior is all
warm woods and leather with an old single person elevator.
Carved gold wood frames on mirrors and pictures. It's like
arriving for Christmas with friends in Italy. Fabulous.
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