Some things I’ve learned about thanks to the 2013 Minnesota Fringe Festival (so far!!). Note that what I took away might not match the intent of the show. The point is, no matter how much you loved or didn’t love any particular show, there is going to be something — or many things — in each show that you ponder, Google, or talk about.
How to turn a penis into a vagina (do not try this at home).
What participating in the Occupy movement was like.
How to not make assumptions about people based entirely on appearance.
How not playing well with others will catch up with me.
How to tell a memoir. (Swoon.)
One way or another, we’re doomed.
Having a mom with multiple personality disorder.
How morbidly attracted I am to dancers that kill each other.
The sensation of stretching my mind around concepts just at the precipice of my ability.
How to be supportive of a spouse and cast even if I don’t think pee is funny.
How hot Brant Miller is in a bikini.
Donating my body to science and a really good undertaker joke.
Just how slimy lawyers can be.
Incorporating strange talents into sketch comedy.
My evening ended at the Woman’s Club with who would become my latest Fringe crush, Paul Strickland (photo above). Maybe it was the afterglow of a day of really great shows that I got to see alone, by myself, with no need for hurrying people along, and the fussing, wiggling, and let’s face it, breathing of companions. Maybe it was the bar upstairs, maybe it was sitting (although alone) in an audience with so many of our lovely and talented performers from out of town. Or maybe it was the sheer beauty of the amazingly fanciful, lyrical story Paul spun so effortlessly. Absolutely gorgeous. Flawless. Perfect. I’ve challenged another of his devotees to a Jell-O wrestling match over him. We’ve decided it would be better to just include Paul from the start. It would be the basis for next year’s Fringe show: A Belfast poet cum teacher in Mexico vacationing in Minneapolis, naked performing Fringe blogger and twinkly eyed mesmerizing storyteller walk into a vat of Jell-O…and hijinks ensue. It will be a blockbuster. Go see Ain’t True and Uncle False at the Woman’s Club TODAY (Saturday) at 8:30.
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