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Subject: {ASSM} The Ride (Postscript) By Katzmarek (Nosex)
Date: Mon, 3 Mar 2003 05:10:05 -0500
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<1st attachment, "The Ride2.doc" begin>
The Ride (Part 2)
By Katzmarek
Author's note:
This follows on from 'The Ride', and blocks in a little more
detail. It's based on fact. The cranky old 'Duke' was an old
model I used to own, not my present 998R which is infinitely more
reliable, and sophisticated.
The mid-eighties saw a sea change in NZ. We shifted from a
heavily State-regulated economy to a market-driven free-for-all.
I spent 3 years at Teacher's College and was paid a salary by the
Government. Now it's 'user pays' and you have to take out a
Student Loan for all Tertiary Education.
Telecom, Railways, Postal, major Banks, Airlines, public
Transport etc were all owned by the Government in the form of
Corporations. Now they are all in private ownership, often having
been scooped up by large Multi-Nationals for a fraction of their
book value.
All this occurred through the policies of a supposedly left-wing
Socialist government and caused the usually fractious left wing
in our country to split itself into oblivion. It has recovered a
little through the emergence of the Green Party.
The days of the big amateur touring shows are just about over.
Economics is killing them in favour of slimmed down, sleek
professional theatre.
In those days you could get rehearsal space, props and equipment
for next to nothing, care of Colleges and Repertory Companies.
Nowadays, no-one gives away anything for nothing, making it too
expensive to put those shows together.
The only people that got paid were the Director, Musical
Director, Lighting and Sound. And that wasn't much at all. We did
it for the love and experience and a few cross-credits in Drama
104.
We took these shows to the country. We did a lot of rural venues
and matinees for schools and Geriatric Hospitals.
I started doing shows for the College of Education. At first the
gear was primitive but in three years the Government bought us a
full, modern rig.
The first show I remember was 'Streetcar named Desire'. The
lighting box was cramped and hot and I was stripped to the waist.
We only had a 'junior 8' mixing desk, which featured big
rheostats operated by sliders. We had to keep the sliders greased
during the show or they'd squeak when operated. They gave off an
incredible amount of heat and were nicknamed 'heaters'. In fact
they were nothing more than 4 kilowatt bar heaters. The director
would pass up 'six packs' of beer during the show to keep me
cool.
During 'Carmen' one time, I nearly fell off a tower into the
audience having cooled myself too efficiently.
When we took delivery of a Selecon 48-channel 20-megawatt mixing
desk we happily tossed the 'heaters' in the bin.
After our stage manager, Pete, dropped 'snoopy' on his arse,
there was a big meeting the next day with a representative of the
Trustees who administered the camp. There was a veritable chorus
of complaints about, 'spot checks' late at night and excessive
harassment. It was explained to us that normally, the camp
accommodated Christian youth groups and such like and it was a
new experience for them to have such a group as ours.
They agreed that we were bringing a lot of joy in the lives of
children and the elderly and were 100% behind what we were trying
to do. They consequently agreed to relax some of the rules for
us, but stressed that many on the Trustee board would be outraged
if there was too much 'liberal behaviour'.
'Snoopy' sought me out afterwards and apologized for his
intrusion. He wished my 'wife' and I well and told me 'of course
we could share a room'. Evidently someone was 'bullshitting' to
him.
At 27 I was newly divorced with twin 3-year-old boys. (They're
now 22, with 4 degrees between them. They were 'fighting elves'
in LOTR the Two Towers. Yeah! That's them, 240th and 241st from
the left.) It would be another year before I had a steady
girlfriend again.
Claire and I would only ever get together when we were on tour.
For the rest of the year we moved in different orbits and only
had a casual acquaintance.
She was in every subsequent show and we'd hook up at rehearsal
and she'd pillion with me around the country. For a month or so
we'd become 'two peas in a pod', always hanging out together.
She'd help me set up, getting me out of bed at 5am with a tickle
in the ribs, following me up ladders, bolting, shackling,
plugging and taping.
For a month we'd be essentially 'married', but she never talked
about her boyfriend, ever. I never even knew his name. It was the
damnedest thing but it's true.
If there was any gossip, and I'm sure there was, not much got
back to me. Claire and I were not great mixers and didn't hang
out with the cast much. I like to do my own thing and I'd only
network when I needed it.
Claire was brought up by 'hippie' type parents and seemed to have
an individual take on most things. She certainly observed few of
the conventions normally considered 'proper' for a 20-yr. old
woman.
My Ducati Desmo 900 was the only thing I took out of my marriage.
My ex-wife took everything else, house car, furniture and kids.
It was my pride and joy, and a fucking expensive one too. It cost
trailer-loads of money to maintain and required monthly tune-ups
to keep the valve gear working properly.
But it was absolutely worth every hard-earned penny. A beautiful
handling machine and incredibly fast. Also quite the prettiest
machine I've ever owned (Except the 998R, of course), all red
except for a red-white-green disk on the fairing and DUCATI Desmo
in white lettering on each side of the gas tank, it had 900 in
white on the side covers.
'Last night' would always end up with a 'booze up' and improvised
concert at the camp. 'Snoopy' was eventually trained to stay
away. The cast would go out 'wine tasting' all day at the local
vineyards and return with the bus baggage compartment, well
stocked.
Pete would do his B52 songs, even though he could barely play
guitar. He would gather together a rhythm section that could play
and would carry it off through sheer audacity. Being completely
crazy helped. I would do my English Folk songs a la cappella
because I held no illusions I could play well enough for the
public. I have, though, a good Welsh singing voice.
At some stage Claire and I would slip away for a moonlit ride and
eventually wind up down at the beach where we would spend most of
the night. A kind of long 'goodbye' as we would be heading back
home the next day.
In all three tours I was involved in it rained steadily on the
way home. All three occasions I returned Claire to her boyfriend
soaking wet. I dropped her at the gate, said goodbye, then went
home.
Rain soaked the electrics of the bike that would then go all
grumpy on me. HT leads would short circuit themselves through my
knee, lights would fail and the alternator would stop charging.
The conclusions to some of the most-fun times that I've had would
often be utterly miserable.
The End.
<1st attachment end>
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