It takes us roughly five hours to drive from Capella to Mackay. The blue of the sky is so beautiful that it resembles a young child’s over zealous colouring skills, a blue crayon that takes you out of the of day. We look for food along the way and in the end settle on a little pastry place entitled “Gobble and Go.” Somewhere in Melbourne an inner city hipster giggles to himself. The pies are disgusting and in no way delicious. Fail.
We arrive at our hotel and when I enter my room a lizard standing in the middle of the lounge pokes it’s tongue at me before scurrying into the cool of the shadows. I spend 45 minutes posting yesterday’s blog, my Internet coverage bordering on the feeble and absent minded. I do an interview with a Darwin paper about Class Clowns and why it is important to work with kids. There is nothing better than seeing pure imagination at work. Kids have no idea about the rules and therefore perform with a lack of inhibition. They create and bugger the consequences. It is good to remember where you came from and how you started out.
I watch the last episode of Matt Smith’s first season of Doctor Who. It is one of the few shows on television whole generation of families can watch together. Big ideas collide with understandable motivations. Who doesn’t want to save the universe and therefore be considered important? Who doesn’t want to be remembered forever? Who doesn’t want to do great deeds motivated by romance? This last episode has everything and I can feel it influencing my next project.
That night we eat well. We eat in a Thai restaurant that eschews a bad pun for its name. Unfortunately because of this I can no longer remember the name and would revel in that irony if I weren’t writing this while cranky about something else. To find out what I’m cranky about read the next blog. The meal is delicious and I eat not only an entrée and a main but also dessert. Bob, Mel and Bridget eat fried ice cream but I order the banana split. I’m 7 years old and content.
Before the gig begins I have a little jog backstage. I am too full and ready for a snooze. On the other side of the curtain the audience builds to just under a thousand. They have no idea that the guy about to host their show is a child who gets too excited by good food on the road. It is a crapshoot every time you enter a new town. You never know what you’re going to get when you enter a restaurant and hitting the jackpot does inspire some diabolical Western gluttony.
After the gig I ride back with Bridget, Marina and Mel. I declare that the gig was a scorcher but the girls aren’t so certain. They enjoyed the night before in Capella because it was more like a pub gig. This one seemed a bit too much like a show in a theatre. I have a think about it and end up agreeing with the girls. I also learn something about myself. I like the theatre gigs and would prefer to do more of them. It is one of the reasons I love performing on the Road Show. The youngster in me enjoys the big theatres. It is the closest I will ever get to know what it is like to be a mega famous performer.
That night we have to get to bed straight away as we have a 6.45am flight to Brisbane and then onto Mt Isa. The smooth flights will not bear any relation to the time in that town but that is for the next blog. In the meantime I hop into bed and turn on the TV. On the screen an NBA game between my favourite team the Los Angeles Lakers against the New Orlean Hornets begins and I watch until I get the nods.
That night I dream I am a young boy, shooting hoops down the road from my old home. I’m re-enacting famous games where I play an important role in the Lakers winning the championship. When I wake up five minutes before my alarm is supposed to sound at 4.45am I am surprisingly chipper.
It was a good dream.
30th of April, 2011