Singapore 2002

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day One.


I am driven to the airport, well, he's in the passanger seat, by Mr. Martin Ewen, who, more than the sublime joy of my company, wants to bask in the use of my truck for a month. We arrive at Bradley International without incident, on time in spite of late nights at Motionfest.

At check in, the United Airlines rep pulls Singapore down onto her screen. Lifts an eyebrow. Does a "hmm". Reads aloud to me: "Singapore reserves the right to refuse entry to anyone with the appearance of a ... ... hippy. "

Pause.


Her: "If they refuse, it is at the carrier's expense. I would catch an earful from corporate if that happened. I'm going to let my supervisor make this descision."

Me: "What descision?"

Her: "Wether or not to let you on the plane."

Me: "The plane I'm holding a ticket for?"

Her: "That same one, yes."

Me: (pulling a quick Motionfest lesson from up my sleeve) "My lawyer will be fascinated with this one."


And so, they deliberated. the thought crossed my mischief mind that there could be some real juice in getting refused, but I truly wanted to go to Singapore. I ducked into the men's and changed shirts. Chicken. Path of least resistance. Shimmered through, I walked, tiny black cloud over my head.

Chicago, enter Hilby, Master Lee, Peter Panic, Brendan, and Bob, and it was off to a quick 17 hour flight. I was blessed to find four empty seats, and knew no more.

Singapore. We linger at baggage for roughly 3 days as Master Lee gets the once over in customs. Always thought he looks suspicious myself. Through an obvious oversight, he's allowed through.

Late night party in Kelly's room found me tired but content, loving seing all the faces of this strange family of ours. Desperately tired, massively glad to be not in a plane, elated at my roomate.
It was time to call it a day. Fairly sprinted to my room.

[ 11-13-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Cybele]

Have a wonderful time, and please tell Mike (Hilby) hello from me.

[Brian R Wilson]

Hilby has a first name? nooo....

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Two, prelude...

I dream I am in the back of a moving car, and my rubber chicken comes to life. Really. He is emphatically happy and, like a puppy, eager to chew. I let him nosh on my finger, unable to stand in the way of such joy. As he slowly makes a reddened throb of my gnawed didget, I begin to wonder if such indulgence is wise. The car cruises
on.

I wake, do a double take at the dream beside me, and express gratitude. Time for a glass elevator ride down to the dining room of the Gallary Hotel, our boutique, art deco digs for the duration here. Breakfast is lavish and free, many of us rely on it heavily, skipping other meals in favor of it. Java's good too.

A couple of hours practice with Hilby, and its off to town for lunch with Jewels, where we find a cool curved sword which she buys, knowing it will draw gasps as she swallows it. The girls in the shop are blown away, and want to know all about the festival, and when they can see her. At no point do they ask me, "And you, tall New York stranger, what wild wonder do you bring our secluded city?" Alas, poor ego, I phewed his smell.

Naptime comes and goes, with much jet lag to be addressed. My sleep is free from chewing chicken images, and Phil calls. Time to hit the city, and we do. With the Silly People and Mat and Paul, two musicians from Australia, I go to Orchard Street, where there are blocks and blocks of full on, unapologetic materialism. Its Times Square without the theaters. Someone approaches Paul to talk about his tatoo.


Stop! We see street performers. Locals, the only legal type (just ask Andrew Elliot) and impeccably skilled. As a woman lies on her back, manipulating 5 rugs after juggling a table with her feet, we gape. Their skills are so good. Their delivery is so bad. Silent, serious, they rely on music and a voiceover pitch. They perform to 20 on a street of thousands. I am filled with gratitude.

Gratitude to Marko, who showed me that making them have fun watching it is the skill. Philippe, who proved to me that you can get more out of an unopened box than its contents. To Dario, who ignited my heart with wonder. And Eddie, who showed me so clearly how being quiet can actually shout. (Not that I do it.)

&lt;Editors note... run-on sentance approaching... draw a breath.&gt;

And on the wings of that, once we were able to pry the others out of HMV and I was able to recover my bag, forgotten at a cafe complete with passport, money, tix home, and credit cards, once we were able to guide the cabbie back to the hotel, nearly losing it all in a hairy left and certainly losing a bit of cash in a presumed tip, it was a footless float to the bed and again, unchickened sleep.


*

[ 11-15-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Three:

In a bizarre Lunatique Motionfest callback, my socks take life in my dreams. With little baby shoes on, they cavort about my hotel room, mindless and happy. I wake in the same state. Why should today be any different.

Its a day off for some of us, and the virtues of being a plain old uni fire show come to the fore. Performers who were cast ship off at 1pm to rehearse and wait wait wait, pulling their three minutes at around ten. No great stories of the gig, a sizzling affair in a seventeen star spot, shimmering with swish.
Overlooked for the Presidential Ball, I go to Chinatown with Master Lee, The Sillys, Brendan, Joan, Tim, and (recently divorced from Hawaii Two Oh) Mike.
We find an ornate temple, and its riddled with juxtaposition. Lose the shoes, and walk in, and hey, if you're taking that camera, lay three bucks on us. Gods are everywhere, in every color, more gods than you can shake a stick of incense at. To walk in is to quickly slow down the city street pace. In that regard, the temple works flawlessly. New addition since I was here four years ago are corporate sponsorship banners along the walls. Really. There is a clear sign "please, no tourists beyond this point" which various performers ignore as only we can. An ancient man sweeps the floor with a broom that makes him look young. Birds light on the impeccable lawn. Brendan talks to one.
Electronics everywhere, a computer mall, literally, and Little India with its endless bizarre. I buy a buddah taking a bath. Never seen one before. A swim on the rooftop pool, (from Kim Potter: This would be a great place if you were a sniper who liked to swim.) evening passes, and Hilby joins us for a jaunt to the night zoo. Many a laugh in the tram ride, with impressions of the animals winning my heart from these yummy, playful clown folk.
Tigers, Hippos, and Bears, oh my, and tomorrow, its off to work.

[ 11-15-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[theincrediblelarry]

Karl, thanks for sharing, I look forward to reading more, tell brendan I say hello. larry

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

I fly in a dream, only to discover its on united, and the chicken terriaki meal sucks.

Today the action began. A morning practice session on a stone and concrete floor at the base of giant escalators with Hilby and Phil culminated in a comment. Says Phil: "If I get any more buff, I'm going to have to start buying men's clothes."

Its good on the pitch, and my overly verbal material translates well enough. Master Lee's salad was still green. Jewels goes over gangbusters with her mix of attitude and demure sweetness. Pyromancer flat out blows me away with a ritual turned show. Its applause all around, and time to sleep.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Five:

Wake with the taste of fuel in my mouth, remember that I'm not Pyromancer, and it goes away. Man, he must drink like a gallon a year of that stuff by osmosis alone. I brush my teeth quickly.

An impromptu writing workshop with Master Lee, Jewels, and Ronnie fills the morning hours with creativity and ideas, which form the bones of the reason festivals rock. The deeper cuts I am taking at my character get reviewed and enhanced, and I'm able to contribute to the shows of others. Its an answer to the heat.

My pitch tonight is the "Esplenade", which has ten rows of tiered seating, and contains a capacity crowd. Ronnie warms them up with a Genie act, bellydancing into torches on a slack rope. Add a mischief smile that can't go wrong, and its just the right temperature. Mike Wood kills 'em with a race for a dollar bit and the Once Hawaii Catapult Flaming Cabbage Cap Catch. They are just that happy, and I roll into the show you always want: receptive, intelligent, ready to go with you. Add to it the right kid volunteer, and all of a sudden, I'm breathing right. Ahh.

[Pyromancer]

How could I ever expect you wake up with me in your mind...

Just had a converstation about my actual oil consumption. I estimated, that I may have actually ingested about a litre of oil over the years. Not too much, compared to the thousands that came and went. There's only a very small fraction that manages to stay, if the oil at all comes close to my body. But I may be far away from the truth with my bold estimation.

It's great fun to do a fireshow at over 35 degrees C. with an air humidity of almost 100%. It is very interesting to see how many sweat channels the human skin has per every square inch and how quick each
of them can produce an impressive amount of liquid.

The audience are pretty responsive, but being the lucky bastard I am, I hardly use language anyway, so who cares about a barrier? No sweat baby.

But maybe it's time to sleep...

Pyromancer

[Master Lee]

Saw Pyromancer last night pretty impressive, tribal fire act mixed with Cirque-ish clowning. I wonder about the fuel intake, i.e. Tony Vera and others.
Had a very good writing session with Taxi Trix, Jewels and Rani. AN hour and a half for each act. Not as intense as 8 hours with the butterfly, but he doesn't have long to live. I think he's on fire for the first time since the big pitch at Pier 39. Feel old like I'm talking about Hendrix at Woodstock.
The Master

[Pyromancer]

Today it rained, it rained and it rained. It took a while before the actual decision to cancel all performances -at least at three spots as far as I know - was made, but after all it was.

Funny moment of the day: walking into a rainy pitch, hearing Lucky perform, but not seeing him, while he sees me as he tries to get me in his audience of exclusively other performers and festival volunteers. All the other people stayed in because of the rain.
Shortly after I found him and joined the audience, the show got cancelled, to Lucky's relief.

[Humanoid Gone Mad]

A round of applause to the singapore rain.. what little relief that it brings to a day of heat sweat and satay.

Sounds Great!

Taxi - I like the way you write , you have a zest for words that conjour all the images, sights and smells that I remmember of my adventures in Singapore. The temple in China town is quite a sight though I was told about a temple/museum on the top of the hill behind Clark Quay.. I have never been up there though apparently both the temple - something about the history of singaporer - and the view are amazing. Check it out it is bound to kill some of the hours between dreaming about your odd rellationship with your rubber chicken and naps? Oh about those dreams who ever is sharing your roon perhaps should sleep with one eye open...?

Pyro Dave - The show is sounding good! maybe there is something in the whole sweat factor? You know the Fire and Water ellements of the ritual? thinking about oil consumption if you could get Water Blowing to look as good as fire blowing it may bring some welcome relief to what could be a rather volitile situation with the singsing heat!!

Phil - You make me laugh man!... Youd have to get pretty buff before you start buying mens clothes!!

So Singapore is pretty damn close to Australia! Is anyone coming down this way for the summer?

Love and Laughter <img src="graemlins/haha.gif" border="0" alt="[ha ha]" />

Toby.

www.humanoidgonemad.com (http://www.humanoidgonemad.com)

[The Pretty Good]

Yes I am heading down there after this. I will be landing in Perth on the 26th why can I live at your house?
Just kidding...Sort of. My $.02 this is the most beautiful city I have been in ever. Everywhere you look is something cool to look at. I am having breakfast with an orangutang tomorrow morning!? What the hell?

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Five:

I dream of three monkeys dancing around my pitch. I know them as see no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil, so I decide not to post my observations on early production snafus here, and give them time to sort it out.

Today is a visit to the hospice terminal ward, and I go with some measure of confidence, as I've worked Holland America. (If you don't know it, this is a cruise line for old people and their parents.)

A codger corners me and tells me story after story of his days of youth and dubious small conquests. He scratches his head, and I start in fear that he might peel back a rug.

A second, thin with contempt and under a raincloud of intellect, walks me round with a bad word for my juggling and praise for my acting. He regales me with insulting insight until he falls face first into his bedpan. Good thing he had a leather flight helmet on.

A third, catlike, hushes me time after time, waving her arms about and mumbling about stopping the flames. Singapore isn't so different from home, after all.

[Pyromancer]

Hey Taxi, as you are describng your second day five, just how many you plan to have around here? ;-)

Tobi Gone Mad, you don't really think I want to spit out water, do you? It hurts. I don't mind the sweat as such, but it is a sticky pain around the ass that I cannot get my leather pants dry. I'll probably end up throwing away a smelly pair again when I get back, just as I did after Halifax.

Lots of temples here. The Chinese one is weird, indeed and the Hindu one is great, too. The food markets that are around Little India and Chinatown are very impressive to wander around, from veggies to live stock, it's all there. I wish I could cook my own meal. But the food here is good and cheap, if you avoid the groce and expensive touristy places. Little India is a messy relief, an oasis of relative dirtyness in a sea of sterility. Finally some real humans.

Pyromancer

[ 11-18-2002: Message edited by: Pyromancer ]</p>

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

When I say five, in that sense, I mean six. Glad you're awake.

Hiya Toby. Thanks for the kind words. I'll have a look for that temple, it sounds worth a search.

[ 11-18-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Humanoid Gone Mad]

Hey Pyro

A tip with sweat I learnt off some puppeteers - Sanitary Napkins - Sounds wiered yes but if you get those self adhiesive ones, as thin as possible so they are not too bulky and wear them under your clothes or around your belt line or anywhere under your costume that you are really sweating they will soak it all up. When I was in Singapore and those hot days in Halifax I would put one under my helmut to stop the sweat melting my face paint into my eyes. You move around a lot more than me so I dont know if it would work for you but its just an idea hey!!?

Oh and see if while you wondering around chinatown you can find those people that sell real snakeoil.. Yeah you can watch as they kill chickens with the bite of a snake and claim the medical benifits of the snakes poison its quite out there!


<img src="graemlins/haha.gif" border="0" alt="[ha ha]" />

Toby.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Seven

I wake from a dream that I am a passanger in a car driving very fast backwards, and the cops have just started to give chase.

Many of us blurr over to the zoo for breakfast with the Oranguitangs. (No idea how to spell it.) We have a delicious breakfast not unlike the one we could have had at the hotel for free, but we are surrounded by lush rainforest, and promise. At 9:30, she arives, our raison d'etre, in a golf cart, with a baby oranguitang at her breast. (Being the patient folk we are, we lean over the balcony to watch her backstage entrance.) Shirley Sunflower is disconcerted, and asks the zookeeper if the lady isn't upset this morning. Derek looks at her (the oranguitang's) apparent downcast expression and pipes in "Oh, now I feel guilty". he is being funny, though the truth of it leers at me. I'm taking myself too lightly to go with it, though, so it's a pretty fun time, watching the two of them. The baby can really nosh on that fruit. Its good company, and many a laugh, well-needed after all of last night's persistent grey-inducing rain.

Its still rainy in the evening, but Master Lee manages his goal to hold a croud and kill 'em for half an hour without doing a thing. Brendan also pulls off a good one, as does Scott Free, and Al poles up for the honey of the night. My first show lucks through and draws well. The second is hell on wheels, and is its own shining example of farce. Alakazaam and Brendan join me for the finale: me on a twelve foot uni (ok, ten) passing fire to Al standing on my upturned case, with Brendan standing in the middle on Master Lee's case, making the number of performers roughly equal to the number of audience members. Kinda fun, if you like that sort of thing.

Late poker ruled the night. I was upstairs with my sublime roomate and just stretching out on the bed getting ready to wheel down with coins in hand, when all of a sudden, it was six am. Apparently, the game went till four, with Phil sillying the rest of them into second place, and Kim pulling 2 pots out of the blue at the last minute to come out ten ahead.


*

[ 11-20-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Mark Wessels]

That was simply the most amazing thing I have ever seen. (Old Local Guy)

Jealous at home,

Mark

[Scot Free]

[quote]Originally posted by Scot Free:
<strong>I am having a great time and apart from a number of smooth production suggestions that could be made there is one gripe I need to make. The audiences seem a little hard to get going and I might even venture to say apathetic. I have figured out why. The people here in Singapore have not only seen the stuff we do they are better at doing it. For example Brandon and I did a skateboarding workshop on monday. As we were teaching Kelly M to skate, two kids actually walked out of the mall with skateboards under their arms. We roped them in and with in minutes they showed us up with mind-blowing neo-newschool flippy type tricks. I heard similar stories from other performers like John Higby who was schooled in the art of the yo-yo by a 6 year old. After one of Master Lee’s shows some kid’s 80 year old granny broke 4 flaming boards with her pinky finger. The biggest embaresment of them all was poor Karl’s humiliating experience on the main pitch at prime time. Taxi has spent most of his adult life developing this show and.....well a picture is worth a thousand words.......
click here (http://theprettygood.tripod.com/taxi.html)

P.s you need quicktime to view this-

[ 11-20-2002: Message edited by: Scot Free ]</strong><hr></blockquote>

[Scot Free]

we are all experiencing technical difficulties with the internet, ie no secure access sites without tweeking settings ect.... ie no hotmail, bank, ebay, ect....
not sure of the reason for this. (police state)
the link below should work now.

[ 11-20-2002: Message edited by: Scot Free ]</p>

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Let me say this about that, and that would be this... the old man had an unfair footwear advantage. I want a rematch.

[Master Lee]

Hey Scott Free,
Let me just say this. The old woman was probably an old she-male, and s/he was only about 70. As for the breaking four boards with s/he's pinky it was only 3 boards and it was definetly down with s/he's ring finger.

The Master

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Eight. In my dream, the Manhattan streets are orange, filled to bursting with flowing robes. It is Autumn, and New York is riddled with the silent protest of holy men. It is the Million Monk March.


I saw a monk at my show in Baltimore. I was playing hooky from Motionfest, and there he was, viewable from my vantage point on the ten footer. "Look, a monk! Its good luck to see one... I'll probably make more money now!" It led into a line I've heartlessly stolen, and made it seem spontanious... "I've been studying meditation. I figure its better than sitting around doing nothing."

An anonymous comment heard through a third party... "That's something you don't see every day, four monks coming out of a panasonic store."

Hilby spots a monk on the outskirts of his show, and requests a change in the world. "Let's dispell the illusion that life is suffering. Give me a hug". The monk, not resisting but certainly reluctant, keeps the energy one way. He is clearly attached to his non-attachment.


I am reminded of some time I spent in a small monestary in Woodstock, NY. The mix of East and West was best shown on one of their fridge magnets. An open-mouthed skelaton was depicted there, with the monniker "Screaming Dead Man". He was shouting the question "What was I saving my money for?"

Such questions move me through this, the infinite day.

[Master Lee]

It's a mini-marathon 8th mile, haven't hit the wall yet, but haven't shit in my pants. Feeling what the butterfly felt 5 years ago, I couldn't understand his resigned smirk our his worldview. Not I got it crystal clear.
1-10 years: Get a good street show.
10-20: Try to get off the streets.
20 years: Hit the cement ceiling. Go into retirement. Only do shows if they pull you out of retirement.
20-25 years: Try to break through the cement to the other side. Elvis sightings. I heard Butterfly was going to be in New Zealand. I heard Waldo Woodhead were coming to Halifax, etc...
It's my 20th year. 5 more years and I get the glass trophy from Edmonton.
The Master.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Nine:

I wake, with the worst breath of the day. Taking pity on my roomate, I go in and brush my teeth. Madison Avenue would be so proud.

Today is for shopping and Chinatown. Shirley buys a new camcorder under the gentle tutelage of Scott "has a techno-clue" Free. Rebecca wanders through with John Higby, buying more wooden masks then she ever knew she needed. I manage to talk Jewels out of a new digicam, pointing out her wealth of photos (mountains). One less toy for the scrap heap.

I go to the public toilet and it costs a dime. There is a woman behind a counter, collecting. Inside, I ponder her life, and on my way out, I flash her my brightest lovegiving smile. She does not meet my eyes.

We content ourselves with fruit, oh, and a pair of sunglasses that take half a day to break, oh and shorts, of course, baked goods, and a snappy tee shirt for Phil, and... suffice it to say that at hotel return time, I'm whooped.

I'm at the Merlion tonight, which is a mythical beast rendered in 20 feet of stone at the edge of the bay. We play in a stone circle where water meets world, skyscrapers all around us, fantasy architecture. Life is lush. I follow Hot nuts and Popcorn, who, seeing this massive statue with its 33-foot fountain of water from the mouth, point out for us that spitting is illegal here. They congratulate Singapore for doing a better job of being a citystate than Gdansk, and make it funny. (Gdansk didn't have a street performers festival. Where are they now?) Riding the wave of their manic comic thrust, I have a fantastic show. Brendan follows and it looks like more of the same high energy. Its Friday night, we have a good pitch, and our little world rocks.

After work, we are all invited (required) to attend club Zouk. Hotel, exhausted... shower. I get the treat of helping Jewels into her leather corset, and we're off. Rob Torres delights us all with a clown gogo piece. Shirley makes mischief with a cane and various girl's clothes. Jewels makes 'em gaga, also swallows a sword. Al gets 77 phone numbers with the squash racket bit. Hilby, Panic, Scott, Dan, Kim and I juggle to mild bemusement.

Master Lee is nowhere. Hmm, 20 years... is he being the Old Lee, Skirt Ninja, under a table nearby? Is he home at hotel, soaking his teeth? Is Lee at bar, harvesting free drinks through hidden rubber tube for later use, or in room, rubbing ointment over old, tired bones? Rumors are everywhere.

I'm content, and after the after party party (and a quick look at a sumo match over noodles, while, in a parallel party 2 floors down, Panic and Phil argue the finer points of Elvis and his influence) its well past 4 am, and time to nod off.


*

[ 11-22-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Lynneski]

Scot - thanks for the gift of that vid. Got a guffaw from this gal. Trix-i, maybe you been lookin' for yer Sensei in all the wrong places? Loving the postcards, bro - oh, and more info on the Elvis and William sightings, please. Any sign of Hoffa?

Amore,
L

[Master Lee]

You missed the best and weirdiest party ever. Sat night, next to last night in Singapore. Party in Kelly's room until we get warned by the two biggest security guys in Singapore to keep it down. We're drinking a bottle of the best vodka in the world. We move to Peter Panic's room, he's already hammered. He takes off his clothes and the is teasing us with sticking a bottle of gin in his ass. Hey, it doesn't get much better than this. He got away without a caning-la.

[Mr Silly]

Thought I would mention that this entire thread is a lie!

P.S. Toby...not too many mullets here, quite the dissapointment!

Peace, Love & Latex!

Phil
The Silly Jedi Knight

[ 11-24-2002: Message edited by: Mr Silly ]</p>

[Peter G]

Taxi:

I want to take a moment to thank you and others for making Singapore a great 'on-line' festival experience. It's been a thrill just checking in everyday for an update, no matter how psychodelic and off topic. I think you have given the community one of the best documents of a performers experience of a multiday festival i.e. Days and shows begin to blend together into a cloud of experience, with the parties and the day trips being the only standout experiences. Breakfast with the primates (note how I avoid trying to spell 'orangutan') sounds amazing, but I don't feel like I've missed too much... I've shared food with Master Lee.

Will - Peter Panic half naked, with a bottle of gin up his ass? You know I invented that trick back in 1984. And Gazzo's been doing it for years. Actually when Gaz does it HE crawls inside the Gin bottle.

Here in Boston, things are quiet and I continue to work on my two new projects:

Envyfest , for those people who don't get invited to enough festivals and Inflatathon, for improving resumes and the size of hats.

I figure each will make me around $50,000 and then I'll have some room to maneuver (inside joke for ML).

Bon Voyage to all, especially those who move on to Thailand and other locales exotique.

peter g

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Ten:

We are blessed with holy monsoon, and the mix of relief and anticlimax is everywhere. In spite of the vast number of shows and no day off, we are all admittedly amped for this final night. Face it: we're crowd junkies. So we perform on the steps in our little half-sheltered mall, giving it where they will take it.

Highlight: in half an inch of rain on the mezz floor, to the amazed gapes of Singapore Punters, the "Singapore Synchronized Swimmers" come out, in costumes by Hefty (really) and do a pseudo impromptu routine. Rob Torres, Aiden Orange, Jewels, Rani, and Silly Phil do us all proud, evoking laughter and love.

We wrap it (I get to pass with Peter Panic on high unicycles!!!)
and its off to a little outdoor cafe, where Master Lee runs an open mike night all his own. It starts with some comedy awards we wrote together, and meanders through personal statements from each performer into a mike, to songs, to poetry, to fierce, panic denials and renewed accusations, to monologues, and, irretrievably, to increased affection. Light rain, and a quiet walk back to the hotel. Lee risks it all, taking a piss in public. His psychic bravery pays, and the night hours find him unalone in his hotel room.

Its over, and we're just done packing. Jewels, roomate sent from heaven, bats those baybydoll browns, and tells me we have one hour to sleep before we fly to Thailand, and Cambodia. She's going for a smoke, so yes, if I must, I can hit the keyboard once again. Gratitude wheels in, with chrome handlebars.


Thanks, Peter. Its been a whirlwind, this festival, and I'll be seeing you soon.

[Pyromancer]

It's all done now. What can I say that has not been said already? I had agreat time and meanwhile it's good that the festival has come to an end now. Take a rest, get the oil out of my system.

The Grand Finale fireshow was rained out, but that created a great opportunity to do something else. Firebreathing in the pouring rain, with a backdrop of lightning: a fantasy became reality yesterday.
It started of a short fireshow anyway. It raised some concern amongst some people, as all the shows were officially cancelled. But once the energy is flowing, it can't be stopped. We had some good sponteneous performances and enough fire to satisfy the people that did show up unless the rains.

Off to Thailand now, for some well deserved dirt and dust, in the most literate sense of the world.

Pyromancer

[ 11-25-2002: Message edited by: Pyromancer ]</p>

[The Pretty Good]

So I am still at the hotel I havent been upstairs in a few hours so I hope that I still have a room here. People were asked to move out hours before they were supposed to leave. I was coming back from dinner and some air hockey with Joan(very romantic). When I get back to the hotel there are these 2 Australian oil drillers asking where to go and party so we start talking. I see a rig that looked like a performers' so I asked who it belonged to. They were saying it was the biggest a**hole in the worlds stuff. They pointed to a bag on the top saying there was a $4000 camera in there and I could have it since they hated him so much. Then they tried to get me to buy it for a pitcher of beer. It ended up one of them had a conscience and they decided the guy would flip out and go crazy on the hotel so I didnt get the camera. I didnt think it was such a good idea to take it either because this all went down in front of the doorman who has been a big help these past 12 days. This was a great time. Thank you everyone for all the memories. That will fade once I can light up again. Oh yeah Bikeboy if you are reading this I am planning on being at your doorstep tomorrow night. I hope you are home.

[peterpanic]

oh please. as if.
grow up you immature mutherf**ckers.
never happened.
i can see how Gazzo would have done it- misdirection.
i understand how peter gross did it all those years- he has amazing muscle control.
as for me- i am not that type of boy.
perer spank

[Jim]

I heard there's video of Peter's gin bottle dance. If anyone who has a copy would like to forward me a clip, I'll put it up. I'm sure everyone would love to see it.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Day Twelve.

Its still over. We land in Bangkok, and the champ here leaves his Thailand Lonely Planet guide, complete with contact info and maps for Dick Finkle and Fairy Fire, on the plane. Our one hour of sleep/ immediate flight and desperate quest for more sleep is interrupted by an hour wait for book retrieval. Oh, dopey me.

We get to the hotel, and it doesn't work for Jewels at all. Too dirty. It IS pretty third worldish, but then... We fight like cats, 'cause its where we're meeting Phil, Colin, Mike, Kelly, Derek and Erik, and its down to the street, ready to bite each other's heads off. Grrrrr. And who walks right up to us? Rumple.
Out of the clear blue sky. Ancient minstrel jester energy shift from heaven. We buy him lunch. Eventually, Phil makes contact. (thank you internet) and we sleep for 14 hours.

Today, its get fitted for suits, and off to the Golden Temple. Phil and Colin haggle with the cabbie over amounts so minute as to make a dime seem like a week's salary. I have no stomache for such ritual, and pay like a fool, still paying naught. Quietly looking over Bangkok, all is suddenly right in my world.

*
And now, this recap, if you will...

The funniest take on what exactly Peter did or did not do with the bottle, as far as I'm concerned, which, thankfully, is not too far,
came from Peter himself, on the night of the farewell party.

"Jees, a guy falls and slips on a bottle." I think that encapsulates it fairly well, and, as far as posting it goes, well, I'm as gay as the next guy, of course, but I think the whole bottle sex thing might just go way way over the top here for our little community. I'd rather not see it, and prefer to fantasize about it in the privacy of my own home.

Love you all, and feel your light in me like a dawn.

[Mr Silly]

As an impartial bystander who was not at the actual "Panic bottling party". I must say this...I saw the video with my own eyes the day after and...well...I was a little disturbed. Jim I really do not think you should make this available for everyone in case children see it!

Peace, Love & Latex!
Silly Phil

[Pyromancer]

Spent the night in a slightly dodgy hostel in Singapore. No windows in the room, smell of humid stuff around. Quite a change after a place where they mob the floors six times a day, but it's a little bit closer to life... Was taken to all kinds of places by a good friends father, who happened to be in a business trip here and took me to introduce to his fellow businessmen.
Found out that my costume is being eaten by fungus, so at least I don't have to carry it with me anymore. No more mister leatherpants for me this trip.
One more night here and tomorrow I fly to Thailand as well, landing in Hat Yar - if I remember correctly. My current plan is to go to Kho Pangan - or whatever the spelling is. I heard it's (still) more quiet than Kho Phi Phi and I am longing for some nature and silence.

It would be great to meet some of you there!

David Pyromancer
http://www.pyromancer.nl

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Introducing You to fellow businessmen? Must be a close friend.

We're in Cambodia, and spent the morning touring the ruins of Angkor Wat. Acromaniac Dan hit the handstand in a spot so precarious as to lift the eyebrows of the very monks themselves. He said it was his most dodgy spot ever, and we nailed it all, digicams flashing away. Mike Wood was our esteemed walking library: he had done his homework.

The vast expanses of stone, the unthinkable hours and, literally, many lifetimes of carving, the magnitude of the high work and the steep steep steps you must climb to get up there, all serve to somehow put it all into place. Next to this world in stone and labor, learning five clubs aint nothin'.

[Cybele]

I'm going to echo Peter's G.'s sentiment and thank all of you for sharing your journey. You folks are wonderful, out there doing the work, spreading the joy, and taking a few minutes to toss some of it "here" (wherever here is on the 'net). It is a treasured gift.

Wishing you all love and joy and peace.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Cybele

[peterpanic]

spreading the joy? i dont like the sound of that...
people reading these boards would do well to remember mr. phil silly is a balloon clown who was able to watch tape of Elvis Presley and see- nothing. no talent to speak of, it was all a marketing ploy. now there was a guy too dangerous to film from the waist down.
as for master lee- this is a man who tells lies for a living.
'its my birthday'
'i just became a canadian citizen'
'i had to flee the violence in hong kong'
'i'm a chinese martial arts master'
'i went to a great party'

whatever video they come up with is bound to be footage of me spliced in with some filth picked up trolling thru the sewers of bangkok.they are playing a joke on me because i am a bit green to the festival circuit. thats ok. i can take a joke. if i can take a bottle, i damn well better be able to take a joke!

seriously, the no-fly-zone was strictly enforced. peter prude

[Kim]

A balloon clown he may be, but get a beer into him and he's passionately conversational.
I don't know where it came from, but I've just been forwarded a photo rather supporting the claims in this thread... It's not for the faint hearted, so I won't be posting it up here in a hurry, unless people REALLY want to see it?

There's a New Zealand TV personality (Peter Sinclair) who was reportedly admitted to hospital with a jam jar up his arse. His official line at the time was "I was wallpapering the kitchen, and fell off the ladder...".

By the way Peter, I understand you and Phil both plan to watch a little Elvis in the near future?

-Pierre

[ 11-28-2002: Message edited by: Kim ]</p>

[peterpanic]

watch a little Elvis? what are you talking about? now i know how joan of arc felt.

send me the photo kim- i really want to see it. i know taxi is a cut and paste artist. didn't they use to call him xerox?

i did not break any laws or anything else in singapore (jam jar? talk about your sickos) and i do not appreciate certain individuals insinuating i did. i treated our muslim hosts with respect and did everything i could to have a good time. ok not everything. so i will say now what i said before: this has gone far enough.

[Orange]

damn, i wish i was looking at ancient ruins! instead i am doing shitloads of homework, and trying to readjust to the time. oh, and a warning for when everyone gets home: IT'S FUCKING COLD!

[Kim]

Well, I have the flu, had no sleep (fever) and now have to drive to the other end of the country for a gig in a nasty little hick town where I got beaten up in by the local minister last year...

OK, Peter, I'll mail the image to Jim, but don't shoot the messengers...

Ciao - Kim

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Hoy, mates. Thanks for the kind words, Cybele, and you too, Orange, for the perspective. Glad to have a playroom where we can hang. Peter, I don't think you'll be a greenie to the fest circ for long, if you liked it. I admire your act. Besides, what's a bottle in the bum between friends anyway? (Not that it happened.) I saw the photo down here in Cambodia, and its funny, but it came from an unknown source, and I didn't get a copy. A good paste job, actually, and there are 2 photos. Phil and Mike got em, but not me, Dan, Eric, or Jewels.

Today was jungle day. We went to a magic place. 8 am the van picked us up, an it was off to the "real" Cambodia. Huts on stilts.
Kids without clothes. The classic old man bent beneath a pile of sticks, upgraded now to a bicycle. Pickup trucks with 20 people in the back, and more on the hood.

I see a child just five years old working in a rice paddy, moving water with a pail. I tell myself the kid must be just playing, but my eyes say otherwise. Later, I cannot muster the courage to look a legless, moaning burn victim in the eyes at a temple entrance. Eric's kit kat sweet taste goes bad in my mouth. (No, I mean a real kit kat bar, from Eric. It was gonna melt.) Juxtaposition assails me: I see a kid no bigger than a Barbie doll riding a bicycle larger than our eight passenger van.

We arrive at a jungle path, and in we go. An hour's walk brings us to a river where there are intricate carvings in the stones. Unbelievable effort, untold hours of it. And I mean untold. Like not even whispered into a monk's ear. Not even alluded to in charades. Untold, unfathomed, unthanked carving over days and days: seasons. For the gods. I am reminded that human life is a deep experience, that too much of the life I choose is shallow. Cambodia carves into me.

On our return walk, we write a jingle for Mike Wood's show. (If you don't know Mike, he is formerly of Hawaii two Oh, and catapults a flaming cabbage onto a spike on his head. We've worked a few fests, from Orangeville to Ohio. Rocking act.) Playing on the meanings of "Wood", we come up with a few good ones. I suggested he mention offhand that he won his first cabbage playing cribbage in a carriage.
Phil comes up with a flaming cabbage patch doll idea that smells like a winner.

Tonight, traditional Cambodian dancing.

[ 11-29-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Scot Free]

Thanks for the updates Taxi. Glad to here you all are having a good time in the after-travels, I envy you all.
A bit more on Sinapore:
there was a high degree of varity in terms of what a pitch was like. (there were like 10-15 spots, two of them I would venture to call ’ideal’ pitches and one-The Esplanade ampitheatre- was one of the most beautiful spots I have ever seen. (unfortenatly not all of us got A chance to work this pitch, Some were rained out of their timeslots and others were told on their night that the shows were being pre-empted by a local talent show and we had to work 300 metres down the path.)
There was also a high degree of varience in terms of how the crowds were. Often either due to the weather or the no so ideal location of a pitch there were no people to perform to. But for the most part the fun shows made up for the not so great ones.
here is one not so great show Hilby and I did that was documented. If you look close in the back there were actually 3 audience members, aparently they were very very important coporate types and so the show had to go on.
clicky here for quicktime viewing (http://www.scotfree.ca/thetruth.mov)

[ 11-29-2002: Message edited by: Scot Free ]

[ 11-29-2002: Message edited by: Scot Free ]</p>

[Mr Silly]

Hey Peter,

I may be "a balloon clown"...but how many balloons did I lose in the Singapore River?

Peace, Love & Lost Balls!

Phil
The Silly Jedi

[Jim]

The Beefeater
http://www.performers.net/sigs/beefeater.jpg


The Beefeater Part 2
http://www.performers.net/sigs/beefeater2.jpg


Still waiting for video.

.

[ 11-29-2002: Message edited by: Jim ]</p>

[Confusionist]

Hey Taxi!
Say hi to everyone! I want to be back in Cambodia - a statement unbiased by the snow blowing outside. Your writing is taking me back there which is perfect since my camera broke on the road(?) to Siem Reap and then melted down at Ta Prom. I am going to past your posts into my diary (editing out the Jewels bits of course).

This will probably catch you in Thailand so . . .

You can email Jacob and Sophie through
fairyfireworld@yahoo.co.uk

Their Thai number used to be (in the weeks prior to the Singapore fest) 062783914.

Hope this helps. Give em both a hug for me.

As per previous postings about the Panic - it was my fault - He asked how to do the vanishing bottle trick - I lied.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Hey Thom. Good to hear from you. I'm told by Martin we've had our first snow, and that the food I left out is turning interesting colors. Thanks for the Jakeso info... we might head down there Wednesday.

Cambodia touched me. Driving through miles of road, the jungle reaching right up to the pavement, not a power line to be seen. I flew off with more than one look back, vowing to return before Disney moves in.

Thailand.


I'm walking a tiny street in Hua Hin, happy, with Dick Finkle. Jewels and Wan are getting Thai massage, and I've just walked out of a fitting at Dick's tailor. (I got two "Taxiwear" suits made in Bangkok, and the work was so good, so reasonable, that I wanted stilt pants and a new tux done, too.) We're headed to an internet cafe, my heroine-level addiction, when who should appear but Mike Wood, Erik, and Acro Dan. We'd left 'em behind in BKK to attend to their affairs, and boof. Like a bag of bad nickels, there they were. Now its me off this keyboard, to the bar, and a night's revelry.

[ 12-01-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[The Pretty Good]

Thats the Greatest! Best I have ever seen!

[ 12-06-2002: Message edited by: The Pretty Good ]</p>

[Butterfly Man]

Brendan,
I felt the same way when I saw "your" fire eating routine!
Robert

[Pyromancer]

Arrived a at Kho Pangan a couple of days ago. It was a bit of a contrast after the overromanticized images I had in my head, partly inspired by my sister who was here some years ago. I felt trapped in the ever expanding global network of tourrorism and felt predator and prey at the same time.
But after a couple of days in relative solitude I got Singapore out of my system and was able to relax. Now I don't want to go home anymore.
I did some fire already, will make my first busking experience in Thailand tonight at a beach party.

Peter, various objects and and human organs - mostly male - have been shoved into various arses - both male and female - over the years and I bet some of the performers around performed some tricks in the privacy of their homes. To be fairly honest, I don't get the whole fuzz. Even if it did happen.

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

[quote]Originally posted by Pyromancer:
<strong>I felt trapped in the ever expanding global network of tourrorism and felt predator and prey at the same time.
</strong><hr></blockquote>


Nice writing, Pyro.

Now, speaking of funny gaffs in the Singapore line, and bottles/jugs ect, do you want to "Spill it" about your moocho kero splasho? Thats a good tale, guy, especially given the risks you take, and your flawless performing record.

We're breathing deep, preparing to say goodbye to Hua Hin, to Thailand, to timelessness, to tee shirts and tenpenny tailors. Today found seven of us crammed into Dick's car, pushing the weight envelope along ocean roads. Watching a man laying squid out to dry, caught between love of the quiet simplicity and repulsion at the smell.

Tonight, its the night market, a midnight ocean swim, and dreams unknown, by a cheshire moonlight smile.

[Confusionist]

Hey Tax Man,

This morning with wind chill it was minus 29 c - that translates to very %^$#ing cold farenheit. Enjoy the midnight dip and take one last kick at the tan, sense the skin and maybe get a bathing suit bronzed, but in the back of your mind play The End with full Jim Morrison reverb.
I am in full frozen envy here but seriously - suck it up - gather yee rosebuds - carpe sol.

Yours truly
The Frozen Chosen

[Brian R Wilson]

Today I awoke to a sunny crisp clear day. The sun was gleaming off the snow, and it looked beautiful out. I stepped outside and immediately felt my testicles shrink, the exposed skin on my face freeze up, as it was -26degrees celcius outside.

Quickly I ran back inside to the comfort of my humble abode. I hopped online to glean comfort from the warm tales of tropical adventures shared on p.net

[Mr Silly]

Singapore to Bangkok, Bangkok to Siem Reap, back, Bangkok to Tokyo, Tokyo to Chicago, and finally Chicago to Toronto.

After all that it was so great to be home. Even thought the weather was in the minus, the air was fresh and the beds were not Asian sized.

I would like to personally thank Eric, Mike, Karl, Jewels, Dan, Colin, and the rest of the Singapore cast for making my life a whole lot better. I can't wait til the next journey!

love you all,
Super happy fun sparkle lucky man Phil

[Kim]

Hi

Just wanted to say thanks for the stories of the journey I began with you all, and which I left too soon.
As much as I love being home after 7 months on the road, it's strangely nice to feel a hint of jealousy each time I log in here...

I can't wait to see you all again next year!

Behave yourselves - Kim

[Pyromancer]

Ah, the fuel splash... Now I remember. In the car back home after some lush firebreathing in the pouring rain and the other shows that followed I was quite excited about the whole night. So I was in a playfull mood and wanted to pretend to drink a huge container of dodgy, smelly kerosene. It wasn't lit properly, so I literally poured a huge amount of kero all over me. Shouldn't be too much of a fuzz for me, but damn the stuff was stinging in my eyes and on my skin.

Did a couple of days of fire at a quiet beach here in Thailand. No show, just seeing those flames move for myself. Yesterday night party on the beach. Did some fire in my own environment. Pyromancer grew up at raves, informal squatting type. No nice ultrapure lampoil around, so I had to stick to smelly third world kerosene. Yesterday night I just couldn't resist and decided to put the stuff in my mouth anyway. I'm glad I did.

David Pyromancer

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

We feed catfish as big as my arm in a temple with some food a monk gave me. They point us over to a baby bear in a cage. We walk over, and there is a monk with the little guy. They are clearly friends. The bear grabs his hand, pulls it to his mouth, and sucks the monk's finger. The monk allows this for awhile, and after showing me scars on his arm from where the bear has scratched him, and a nasty eye injury, invites me to play. I do. The bear cub is about up to my chest. Scared but curious, I reach out. He pulls at my hand, but his claws don't rip. I held his hand. For a good while. Jewels played with his foot. He lied on his back, sticking limbs though bars, liking us. Never in my life.

Today was also another parting. Acrodan and Erik went off to parts south to try to find Derek, and Mike Bangkoked his way home. Its down to me and the lady, and let me say this about that.

Jewels Rocks.

Today, she came up with the ultimate idea. We are three or four days from flying home, and its closing in on us. "Why don't we rent a motorcycle?" she shimmers, and its off to market for that. With the Finklini guiding us, we secure a Honda 750 Magna without so much as a business card for ID. I flow onto a sidestreet, swept into traffic as Jewels returns to Dick's for pants. I wheel by a cawing crow in a massive brass cage, and feel rather than see village life around me.

At Dick's, we fuel up with sugar, and get direction (down to "watch out for dogs on this stretch", which is accurate, as we later see zen dogs all over the place, as if summoned to bear him out on this)and float away from this little city and up to a mountaintop, overlooking Hua Hin, and beyond her, the ocean.

As we prepare to quit the bike, I am thinking of what a brilliant invention the motorcycle is, how I miss mine, and how I love motion on wheels. I am deeply grateful for the huge-brained lady behind me who came up with the idea to rent, and am ready to salute her intellect for the 4th time this day when, on her dismount (this after logging hundreds of bike hours) she gives herself the full-on, mercy-free inner leg pipe burn. The payoff comes when, after sunset and our feeble attemptss to cool the leg, she looks over at me quizzically, and asks, "Why do III... have to be the schmuck?" Affection grows on a Thailand mountain, and our laughter lingers.

[Pyromancer]

After a party somewhere on the beach, I wake up when a heshe taps my leg. Heshe looks female, but Heshe feels very, very male so I am not interested in hisher services and try to wave himher away. Heshe lays her hand on my leg and now I'm convinced, if I wasn't already. Only a man can lay his hand on your leg like this. I tell himher that I want to sleep, heshe doesn't move. Heshe is pissed off at me and the only way to get rid of himher is to go myself. So I do, back to party to have some more fun.

I'm on my way back home now. I had a holiday with a big capital "H". Not quite the spiritual experience I fantasized before I went to Kho Phangan, but it was the holiday I needed.

David Pyromancer, who relentlessly turned into a tourrorist for seven days.

[Pyromancer]

Taxi, one question is bugging me and as I have four hours to kill in a dead sleepy town, I might just ask it now: what the hell did you do with your luggage? I felt like a complete moron while taking my humongous Samsonite suitcase to a backpack infested Island, so it's hard to imagine you taking all your gear, including some Thai made suits all the way down to the killing fields... There must be an easier solution, I reckon? Some luggage storage in Bangkok?

David Pyromancer - who survived lots of fire, a load of kerosene into the eyes but is now getting more or less worried about a tropical infection that hit him right on his right heel - exactly the point where the genital pressing points are located, as he learned during an extensive massage in Singapore. Sensitive stuff... man...

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Yo Phil, thanks right back at ya, in more ways than one. How's the puppy?

Pyro, yes. We did store luggage in BKK. Thanks for posting that story, I've gotten some good laughs telling it, but that might have been because I was in a Thai home and told it straight from midships in the bathroom, walking out with a full face of shaving cream to lay it out.

Its the King's birthday today, and monks gathered this morning to pray in the streets, rows and rows of people watching and offering food. The king here is well loved, and universally liked.

We buy 4 boxes of the best handmade sweets from this old local woman. She makes them in the morning, right there at the market, and always sells out before five, starting work on the next days batch. I resist the urge to think in intrusive capitalist productivity creation, and smile, handing over my 100 bot.

We celebrate quietly, opting for lazy, sleepy time and Thai massage. It was funny hearing the tiny but strong woman who had the dubious task of doing me grunt and groan under the burden of it all. Done properly, Thai massage involves a fair deal of lifting and stretching, and when it comes down to it, especially from the average size here, I'm a handful. She was working, man.

Now its off to a late dinner, and more motorcycle. I fear the end is near, and I hear the distortion you spoke of, Tom. Sigh.

[Pyromancer]

Anger is not an emotion that deserves to be preserved...

[ 12-12-2002: Message edited by: Pyromancer ]</p>

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Long day motorcycle joy.


We went south, to Pusharri Kua Kii, which I am dead certain to be spelling wrong. On the way, we got nabbed for no helmets in the city, and paid a ticket/bribe of 200 bot, or about five bucks US.

Highway, and quiet hills grow around us. We saw a fire on a mountain, and I thought I was in a Grateful Dead song. We made it into a small, wall-free roadside eatery just in time to watch a full-on thunderstorm from a warm dry table.

We get to the place, buying bannanas, and climb long stairs, meeting many monkeys, none of who are above nabbing a yellow grin off of us, and a few who actually plead their bannanaworthiness by clinging to our pants, a dubious honor, as we're both in light colors to fight the heat. Up to the temple, and its sky and city, and a 360 view. I love Thailand.

I kinda want to be a monkey. Which, come to think of it, presupposes that I'm not.

[ 12-06-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Well, its almost last day, and Finkle comes over in the morning for a motorcycle ride. He leads me to a temple with a huge ass Buddah, many lesser dieties and, in the back, and elephant farm where we can overlook the care and feeding. He knows an amazing amount about these gentle giants, and we sit silent awhile.

Scoping how the other half live, we glide into an ultraposh country club, and have ice cream poolside. Being white and roughly presentable, we are served with deference: its just assumed we belong. Then its off to my favorite stop, a little community of cabins just off the ocean, where Dick explains how I can rent one for a month at a crazy low price. We do some math together, and I soon understand that, with an effort, I could seriously spend February here. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. But god, miss out on Girl Scout Cookie season? I take a photo for inspiration.

Jewels and I watch the sunset from an old old temple on a mountaintop, and have the whole place to ourselves except for the obligatory temple dogs, and a monk, who teaches two ladies down at the gate.

Late night its ocean walking and gathering shells for my new bathroom back home. We pick over a certain pile for about 20 minutes while a kid watches us quietly. After we leave, I learn what he was about. He swoops into the pile. He had been waiting for us to finish. This culture really works for me.

[em]

Oh god i'm jealous as i hoover up the crumbs in my rented house in urban bristol and shiver by the radiators....

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Narita Airport, Tokyo. Popping Yen into a pixel purveyor.

Its over. I'm zombified.

Early morning found me up with the dawn and tearing through a paperback which belonged to the guesthouse but I was NOT gonna leave unfinished. Ocean waves and fresh-squeezed oj. Rice soup with prawns, served without attitude by the same pretty lady for the third morning running. I could get so used to it. This would serve no use, however, because today its Yank... back to your life, kid.

We say our goodbyes to Dick and Wan, and its up to Bangkok, where we linger at Kaosan road. Hikers mecca, traveller's bottleneck, hippy ghetto. Electric Trustafarian Homeland. Pierce palace mothership. Tattoo town. You get the point. We have 3 fake student and press pass ID's made for two bucks apiece. We are led through back alleys and up flights of poorly lit stairs to where sleaze meets efficiency in an illicit cd store of vast dimension. We buy and buy.

I know I'm getting the hang of it when I barter three or four times over a stack of books on Thailand and Thai, happily batting baht back and forth. I win the books and all the weight that that entails.

We meet Derek and Kelly, and find our evening's entertainment in Derek's response to the loud music at our restaurant. A baby elephant walks by, and takes a ten-gallon piss. Really.

Three am and its goodbye Jewels, and off to the flight. Its a goodbye of global dimensions: Sweden, New York. I miss my home, but I have so enjoyed my travel. My travel mate. The journey, but for the arduous travel and interior landscaping, is over.

I am very very happy. I am very very sad.


*

[ 12-09-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[Julia]

So, I guess I am the one taking over, taxi is now on a 37-40hr flight to NY, me well this is how today went 9i have 10 minutes to write before my ride to the airport.

1. Waking up alone - not fun, almost unusual...
2. reakfast with Kelly and Derek, getting my head together.
3. tailor, shopping all that crap.
4. bump in to Eric go to see the largest reclining Buddha ever, i mean ythe dude is large, following that we discover a fairground, everything is te same appart from the colours and the food. Colors pastell green and pink. Food - well, alot of things we wouldn't really eat, bugs, lots of varieties.
great walk.
OHH and one more thing, Rumplestiltskin is alive! He made it back, bumped into him today - crikey!
5. farewell thai massage with kelly.
now off to the airport.

I would like to expres gratitude to first of all Kelly, who made it all possible, thanks Kelly...
Taxi, --- you rock, you know that (birdfish)
Cambodia crew - Eric for being funny, Collin for being quiet and humble, Phil for being a responcible leader smile.gif , Dan for handstands, Mike for knowing everything about most things and Taxi well you know for being a great compannion.
Singapore you all know you rock!
i am off to sweden, its -10. then off to london for a couple of days.
Love to all
Jewels

[Mr.Taxi Trix]

Sigh. I just re-read this thread, attempting to cultivate a strong finish for my comments on this Asiatic trip. Thanks, Jeff, for the two videos here. I love the one in the rainstorm with Hilby. Brendan, what about your skateboarding vid? That was pretty funny. You get the "best use of the editing button" award, by the way, for this one, which I just caught:

[quote]Originally posted by The Pretty Good:
<strong>Thats the Greatest! Best I have ever seen!

[ 12-06-2002: Message edited by: The Pretty Good ]</strong><hr></blockquote>

I don't know if I've seen editing done to pisstake other posts contextually. New ground there. Clever lad. Say hi to Joan.


Three am Monday morning December 9 and its off to Kaosan road for my cab. I get smiled at (and partially devoured) by a woman who, with her lady companion, is, I believe, in the make guy feel good business. The street is still a bit of a bustle, food vendors still making sales, and cafe's still serving on the street. A man missing half his leg crutches by with an amp strapped to his belly and a woman walks behind him singing Kareoke mournfully. Even the dogs raise an eyebrow at this one. I catch myself searching for dwarves.

The driver takes my bags, and its off, through Bangkok streets. "Tuk Tuks", three-wheeled motorcycle cabs, cruise around us at the speed of light. Motorcycles pass them. Couples walk arm in arm. Doesn't anyone know the weekend is over?

Attempting to get my bags out of storage at the airport, I see I am out of baht, and sidle up to the ATM. It declines. So do three or four others. There's money in the account, but this just happens sometimes. But now I need money. I walk the mental cliff edge of action options, and finally recall some US bucks I have stashed from Motionfest Hookey shows, and exchange. Whew.

Bangkok Seattle Denver Chicago Hartford. (What, no Philly?) My bags are thoroughly searched, and I find myself oddly calm, even while at my wits end and tired beyond belief. Buddahist by osmosis, maybe.

Martin is on time at the airport, and my bags have hung in through the connections. He's had the truck a month, and, being of dubious liscence, has politely, lightly danced through the streets without so much as a single viol. I am pulled over within 20 minutes. Failed to stop, 50 in a 30. Grr. Copper vanishes with the liscence and reg as Mart and I align on how he was not driving when picking me up.


Here he comes.

"You still clean? Officer Laurento says hi." Jesus, that was seventeen years ago. He lets me off with a warning. I'm truly home.


Goodbye, Jewels. Kelly. Derek, Dick and Wan. Phil, Colin, Erik, Dan. Rumple. You've made my trip; our laughter stays with me.

Whoo. My cat Skyler doesn't think I'm petting him nearly as much as a month away would warrent. My daughter is glad to see me, and needs laundry done.

Sigh. I can do this.

[ 12-11-2002: Message edited by: Mr.Taxi Trix ]</p>

[mommaK]

Alas, I am back in the office...it's Friday Dec.13. Plowing through my mountains of emails and mail that has piled up on my desk. Sorting through some pictures from Singapore and Thailand...my heart sighs.
I didn't have a chance to read through all of the posts while Derek and I were on the island, now after reading them all it's brought back some wonderful memories...
To all of my Singapore performers, thank you...I couldn't have had a better team.
Thank you to those who managed to make it through the parties in Rm.940 - thank you to Derek who offered up my room as Party Central. Thank you to William for bringing my favorite vodka and Rob for replenishing my depleated gin. Peter, I love Elvis and even though I didn't make it to the after party in your room - no matter what anyone says, you are still a wonderful performer. Thanks to Thom for topping up my Pez supply and those crazy Germans for bringing me my favorite gummie bears! Thanks to the Acros for giving me more photos of Brett's butt for my wall and for celebrating our 2 years anniversary, Thanks to Aidan for the Singlish jokes, Thanks to Tim for the wonderful massage and listening ears, Thanks to Al for being my official picture taker at the parties and not buzzing Derek's hair before Thailand, Thanks to Brendan for teaching me some skateboarding(say hi to Joan!)and I think you are more than pretty good, Thanks to Carlos for the music and teaching me the proper way to do a kiss-greeting, Thanks to Daniel for being a wonderful shopping partner in Bugis, Thanks to Senji and Senmaru for the japanese heavy metal, Thanks to Hilby for giving Derek the liederhosen and for being you, Thanks to Eric and Derek for all that you are, Thanks to Jeff Hill for making sure that everyone knew he had hair from the 80's and not the 70's, Thanks to Jewels for letting me touch her tongue, Thanks to John and Rebecca for teaching me some yo-yo tricks, Thanks to Karl for being my supporter for everything, Thanks to Nathalie and Catherine for the colour they bring into my life, Thanks to Lucky for your patience, Thanks to my William...for your friendship, Thanks to Mike Wood - I don't know what for because he really sucks...NO! You EAT IT!, Thanks to Matty, Stu, and Chris..for making me feel like part of their tribe, Thanks to Mike and Mike thos crazy Germans - who else would carry a six-pack of beer with them into a club and say that it was part of their props?, Thanks to Peter - you aren't so green after all, Thanks to Kim, my little Billy Crystal, Thanks to David...I would have let you not wear pants to ZOUK, Thanks to the beautiful Miss Ranie...I swear you will never have to listen to show tunes again!, Thanks to Jeff(Scot Free)..for also teaching me some skateboarding and for being a great listener (I think the hotel still has some engine oil left over), Thanks to my lovely Tamara...you are my sunshine, Thanks to my beloved Phil and Colin..we finally got to eat brekkie with the orangutans! and celebrate where we first met, Thanks to Thom for keeping me laughing and sending dirty jokes to me even when I was sitting next to him on the computer, Thanks to Rob - loving, licking, and swellings, and Thanks to Martin and John....John, I guess no one got their $50?

Thailand companions....firstly Derek...for being you, Eric,Karl, Jewels,Dan, Phil, Colin, and Mike....thanks for fun times. Somethings you will never forget.....

[The Pretty Good]

[ 11-07-2003: Message edited by: The Pretty Good ]</p>