Plans are fickle. Unless you’ve got some obligation, some incentive, or some motive, they can and will change. This weekend was a summersault of sorts – of going to Scotland, of going to Camden, of going to Bath and Stonehenge, and it all fizzled out for one reason or another. Plans changed just like the indeterminate weather – long stretches of sunlight speckled with rainy patches. Saturday and Sunday were subdued around the Maltings, attempting to read more of The Cider House Rules, and prepare a satirical sketch for the critical eye of Mary Walsh.
Basically, that means checking Facebook intermittently and watching Friends clips on YouTube.
Like this doozy
Before the rain came on Sunday, I went for a run through the nearby park – I’m not sure what side of the path you’re supposed to run on here, but no cane-wielding, pipe-smoking, tea-drinking codger (inevitably named Mr. McGregor) tried to chase me down.
This morning, we had another satire seminar with Mary, where we went through some of her old CODCO sketches. Back in the day – the ’70s, through to the early ’90s – Mary and some of the big names in Newfoundland comedy (Tommy Sexton from WGB, Greg Malone and Cathy Jones who would go on to do This Hour Has 22 Minutes, and Andy Jones, who did everything) put together a sketch comedy routine that celebrated and brought Newfoundland humour to the rest of Canada. We read some scenes from “Das Capital,” a play that first ran in 1975 and that focussed in on what life in St. John’s at that time was really all about, casting a sharp, witty eye on bigotry, poverty, and the scandals happening behind closed doors in the Catholic Church.
Our major project, over the course of the next 12 weeks, is to rewrite some of the major scenes from that play, basing it around Sin Jawns in 2011. Once we split off in little groups for the sole purpose of ranting about shit we can’t stand about the capital city – from the overall feeling of contempt Townies have for everyone outside of the Avalon to trying to walk around the city in the winter without getting soaked or splattered on the road – it’s obvious there’s enough fodder there for something pretty angry and funny, the integral keys to satire.
Plus, we’ve got Mary Walsh helping us and legitimately encouraging us. Just need to reiterate that.
If nothing else, the whole point of this trip is to be cool alongside
Mary Walsh. Merci to Julie for the picture
For the second part of the class, she brought in improvisational actor and teacher Sean McCann – not to be confused with Sean McCann from Newfoundland (and Great Big Sea). He was spot on and knowledgeable, and was actually the one who put us through the ranting exercise; he’s also going to be hanging out with us for a bit, stopping in on a few more classes, going to a scatter show with us, and we’re also checking out his performance in Showstopper!, an improvised musical in London’s West End next month.
Anyway, I said that plans fall through if you don’t have an obligation, an incentive, or a motive. I’ve got a train ticket to Scotland for this Friday morning, so there you have it. No specific plans yet – why bother? – but it should be a cool adventure, escaping through the English countryside to something totally untested. Looks like there are about a dozen people going as well, so I don’t have to worry about going mysteriously missing because Nessie eats me.
Cheers,
rb
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