Strepped of my Dignity

August 11 2004

  Soul-Mates and Acquaintances,

  Edinburgh sprung itself on me like a bear trap pretty much from the moment I landed, all mobbed narrow streets, forests and castles and festival scenes with bright colours at ground level and dull colours above. The Fringe was just gearing up when I arrived and I had a few days to pull together the usual strings, size up the venue, meet the management, get to know the city, get my flyers and posters, meet up with Erik and get accommodations settled. This time I even went one step further and sprung to get some T-Shirts printed up, so we now walk the streets with O.G. Chaucer's impassive face displayed prominently on our chests. These we sell along with CDs at the merch booth after shows.

  Erik has proven every bit as brilliant a salesman as we all knew he would, at least when it comes to chatting people up and handing out flyers. He spent the first few days on rollerblades, which put him at about 6'6", not counting the svelte hat complete with ostrich feather. This has him inevitably catching everyone's eye, as well as provoking laughs as the blades constantly threatened to dump him on the cobbles. If this weren't enough to convince people to give the show a chance, he also uses them to prevent passers-by from passing by so easily. He just rolls backwards along with their brisk strides, flyer in hand, pitching the show until they take a flyer or he crashes into something or someone. It adds up to one devilishly effective publicity man.

  Day one of my twenty-five-day run was last Friday, and all was in order. The theatre space is ideal: small and intimate with seating for about 65 so my voice can easily fill it. Erik is also my sound and lighting technician, as well as my usher and merchandise salesman, requiring him to memorize a number of cues, seat the audience, control the lights and sound, and then rush to the lobby to catch them on the way out to sell them stuff. The first show drew about 9 people, which was good considering we had hardly promoted at all due to a late delivery, and it went off smoothly and without hitch.

  This is where the music swells and tragedy strikes our idyllic scene. After the show I found myself feeling a bit dizzy with an itch in my throat, and by the time we got back to the flat I was coming down with a fever. I could only hope I was in for a quick 24-hour flu so I took a bath and downed a bunch of Echinacea and vitamins and went to bed. What it turned out to be was one of the most intense illnesses I've had since I was about twelve, complete with raging fever, hallucinations, and a half-dozen other symptoms I will mercifully spare you the details of. At this writing I still haven't had any solid food in more than four days, thanks to Strep throat.

  Needless to say, I had to cancel shows. My arrangement here was to perform every day from the 6th until the 30th, so each night I would go to bed hoping to wake up to find the fever broken, and each morning I would phone the theatre to call off the show, and issue refunds. I heard a couple of guys from the States showed up three days in a row hoping to catch the show and finally had to fly home last night unsatisfied - the worst. On the second day Erik escorted me to the hospital and I got an antibiotic prescription, which I generally try avoid, but the doctor chided me for even waiting 24 hours. Apparently the infection had begun to spread from my throat down into my left lung and my tonsils had swollen into a couple of golf balls, craters and all.

  Ironically, there was actually a paramedic unit at our flat the first night of the illness, but not for me. This was the worst for fever and delirium - I was certain that each position I could lie in had somehow been patented by "sleep corporations" and they were trying to persuade me, all at once, to favour their pose, on one side, or on my back, now curled up, strictly on a promotional basis of course...at least for now. This kept me restless all night, and at one point I heard excited voices in the other room, clearly, the fast groaning of a woman in labour, and the supportive words of doctors and friends, some kind of climactic resolution and then the voice of Karen, our flatmate, thanking the doctor and seeing him out. Inside I was thinking "Come check on me!" but I didn't have the strength, or the certainty, to cry out, so I kept tossing, and soon after the fast groaning resumed...curious.

  In the morning I found that Karen had come home from the bar with some friends and one of them had alcohol poisoning so they had called paramedics, sure enough, to come check on her, and the groaning was over the toilet. No one thought to send them in to me though, mostly because I had gone to bed saying my bug would probably be gone in the morning, and I had deteriorated in a few hours into a pool of confusion and sweaty blankets. With the antibiotics in effect, however, I finally did start turning it around. This morning I woke up after three days of the worst physical weakness and misery I have felt in a decade (and for this I am grateful), to find myself ten pounds lighter (seriously), hundreds of pounds poorer from lost ticket sales, but with no fever and only moderate swelling and pain in my throat. Best of all, I have my voice back, which before was completely disabled by the swollen tonsils (each day I would try a few lines of rap before phoning the venue, just to check, and it was useless).

  Even though I hadn't eaten yet, and still couldn't really, the show must go on, so I downed some protein smoothie and guyusa tea and prepared for show number two. Amazingly, twenty-three people came to see it, and I managed to struggle through the whole thing without collapsing. I felt like passing out a few times, probably more from hunger than illness, but I don't think the audience really noticed, and Erik hit his sound cues perfectly. He was my guardian angel during the entire ordeal as well, drawing me baths and making me keep up my fluid intake, even putting up with the disgusting sounds and smells produced by a sick person (and the room we share is not large). The past few days haven't exactly boosted his confidence in this trip as a big money maker, but they sure have convinced me that having him here has been my salvation.

  So there you have it, I've been here a week today, and it's been pretty different than I intended. Still, with the schedule I've been running for the past three month I should have expected a crash, and it could have been a lot worse... well, that's pretty hard to imagine, but it could have lasted a lot longer for sure. At this point, however, I think we've at least got a good buzz going for the show and there are still three weeks ahead to build it. We depart the day after tomorrow for an overnight stay in Newcastle to rock a show with Jonny Quality (if my voice holds). I hope you are all well and taking your vitamins. I'm going to get something to eat.

  Love from Edinburgh,

  Baba