Did you feel the shaking earlier this week? Yeah, that was Chris and I jumping up and down on opposite sides of the country after finding out that we are officially off the waiting list and into the Edmonton Fringe!
That last show Chris and I did together was at the Edmonton Fringe in 1994; it was called Selling Pyrogies to Gerard Depardieu (shut up, I was 17 and long titles were cool) and oddly enough, it too hinged on the death of an eccentric grandmother. We got into the Edmonton Fringe off the waiting list that time as well; fortunately, we'd been rehearsing the show for a post-Fringe event, so when they called us one week before the festival to tell us that some American company had dropped out after being stopped at the border for trying to bring in "oranges" (a likely story), we jumped at the chance to take over their spot.
The problem was that because we were last minute addition, our show wasn't listed in the Fringe program (or on their website, because I think this was before the Fringe even had a website - I know for sure it was before I even had an e-mail address) AND it was in a new venue - the McCoy building, which I don't think they've used since - where there was virtually no walk-by traffic. Keen to get people to actually show up, our little company (Chris, Paul, Trish, Cheryl, my brother and I) tried to wallpaper whole buildings with our posters and handed out flyers to anything that moved. My dad convinced his shopping mall manager friend to program the mall's scrolling outdoor lightboard to include our show details. My mother called everyone she had ever met. Twice. Her sisters came up with their kids and their "I'm Rose's Aunt" sweatshirts. It was awesome.
We also caught a real break that year in our quest for last minute publicity thanks to a show called The Happy Cunt. The provocative title set prairie tongues a-waggin'. There were discussions over risque Fringe titles - had they gone too far? Could they say "cunt" in the paper? Were senior citizens outraged? One night on the news, a roving CTV reporter was doing "man on the street interviews" to gauge viewers' Fringe title disgruntlement. You could tell she thought she'd hit the jackpot when she cornered an elderly gentleman in front of a wall of Fringe posters, The Happy Cunt among them and possibly also the poster for the show where the girl advertised she would be "masturbating with a knife".
Reporter: [indicating The Happy Cunt's poster] Sir, what do you think? Do you think these Fringe titles have gotten . . . OUT OF CONTROL?
Old Guy: [totally ignoring where she's pointing] Well, this one looks good! Selling Pyrogies to Gerard Depardieu. Heh heh. That sounds pretty funny. I would see that.
Reporter: [visibly annoyed at his lack of fury] What about these other poster, sir? Are you offended by these titles? Do they . . . INFURIATE you?
Old Guy: [still reading our poster] McCoy Building. Oh, look, their first show is tomorrow at 7. Yep. Looks good to me.
HA ha!! We ended up having quite a successful Fringe that year. Thank you, old guy, whoever you are. Thank you.
