A lot of you Fringegoers know Myron Blattner, who saw as many Fringe shows as I did and wrote about them besides. And some of you have been looking for his accounts of the Fringe. Here they are, unedited and as only Myron could relate them:
Sunday was a very long day. Saw 7 shows. Had a lot of fun. Had time to sit on the LAWN OF FABULOUSNESS. Met many people that had never been to the Fringe before. Mostly older people. Saw a little woman wearing a funny flowered dress, and her face had a lot of make-up. She kept hiccupping. Spoke with a totally totally vivacious woman wearing a cheerleader’s outfit. All of a sudden a very tall man with sparkle all over his face walked by. Strange. Heard someone call a “penis” a WATER HOSE. Heard someone call herself a BAD BAD RELATIONS ADDICT. Saw a little red haired girl slit the throat of four or five people. Had someone ask for a donation for sheltered animals. Saw two men play ping pong without a ball. Weird things are happening. Had to wear funny glasses on the way to the moon. Saw dancers at a circus. Only at the FRINGE FESTIVAL can these things happen. I’ll let you know what happens on Monday.
Monday, Day 5: More strange happenings at the Fringe. I heard, please don’t tell anyone, that there is a skinny guy from Chicago that dances on the stage naaaaaaaked. I hope they don’t raid the place. And I heard that there is a chief that wants to kill a poor bunny. And there’s a guy whose name is Lazer Wolf. I thought Lazer Wolf was in “Fiddler”. Copy “wolf”. There’s another skinny guy who took a long trip on a bicycle to find some LSD. Isn’t that illegal? Boy can he spin a tale. Did you hear that a man by the name of Winthrop Carlson got murdered? Keep it quiet. I heard there’s a porn show about somebody named “Debbie”. Shame, shame. Did you know that when a bird looses it feathers it bleeds? There’s this old nasty old codger walking around with this gorgeous girl named Didi Panache. He shoots birds at everyone and sure doesn’t like “whim… whim …cycles or something like that ???” Not a nice person. I heard he had a “bitch” for a first wife. I think her name was Fred or something like that. There’s a guy who can play guitars, six of them. By the way have you tried all of the good food on the green patch of grass? Food for vegan’s, and for people who don’t care what they eat; that’s me and you and you and ……. Orchids anyone? Be sure to leave a tip, for the Fringe, at the beer tent. How about a massage? Come see for yourself all of the exciting things. Good night. I’ll see on day 6.
Tuesday, Day 6: While spending time on the fabulous green grass, I think that’s what it’s called, I saw some almost naked men fighting with balloon swords. You would think they were Trojan soldiers. What are they doing in Orlando? Hey, I heard about a lady whose name is “Peg” and she knows people like Adam and Cain, and Romeo and Juliet, and, and ……. She must be very old. Someone told me about this woman who sings like a bird, a fag hag bird, and she has a man servant who wears very, very tight pants. Do you know that 53% percent of marriages end in divorce, and the other 47% end in death? That’s food for thought. Does it pay to stay married? And the guy, I heard that from also said that if you look into your rear view mirror and only see dark clouds you need to look ahead of you and you will see beautiful shades of blue. Nice! Back on the green grass, I saw people eating ribs, and gyros and collard greens with corn bread, and caramel pop corn, and snow balls, and frozen coffee drinks, and and … I’ve got to go now; I’m starving.
Wednesday, Day 8: Did you know that Gloria Swanson or maybe it’s Joan Crawford, which ever had a bitch for a daughter that wrote a nasty book about her mother, is residing in Hell. Hitler is there and of course the devil, and believe it or not the devil’s mother. What a “yenta” she is. I heard that the devil takes credit for forming the IRS. And someone heard that Gabrielle, from the bible, blew more than just a horn ???? Did you see the guy that must be 20 feet tall who has a broken heart. He’s a scary looking character who steals people’s cell phones. And I heard that he had a dog that got shot at the Fringe. Very sad. Theirs this lady, with red glasses, who throws these great parties. Someone, who was a guest in her home, said that she saw the hostess drop a tray of carrots on the floor, pick them up and put them in her shoe, and then put them back on the tray for people to eat. Disgusting. Someone was there with a red beret, someone from Ireland and someone ……… I don’t remember what they told me. Then they played a kid’s game with balloons. And she thinks she’s a “lady”. Back on the field of green grass, I saw someone eating a great looking sausage sub and french fries. And plenty of weirdoes are drinking beer. I heard the frozen coffee drinks are great, as is the vegan triple layer cookie filled with chocolate and white stuff. How about some summer rolls, or fake meat, or baklava? I’m tired and very full from all of that. See you on Thursday.
Thursday, Day 9. Well I’ve now seen 39 shows, some great – some not so great – some ……. I don’t know if I have the strength to write anything today, but Ill try. I think that I have gained 5 pounds, grazing on the grassy knoll. I ended up doing more grazing last night and gaining more weight. Do you know the vendor with the collard greens and beans and rice now has corn on the cob. It’s good! Try a slice of watermelon or pineapple for only $1.00. I hear that one of our favorite people, you know the short fat one (not me) that puts on shows at that famous gay place in Orlando, had a run-in with one of the vendors. Not a pretty picture. Last night, I saw this man with a long black coat, black hat and curls hanging down his face. I hear that he has had a bad life and that people make fun of him. No wonder, the way he dresses he looks like a fool. I hear theirs a husband and wife, or ex husband and wife, or something that sing in a cheesy motel. If you’re lucky they may invite you on stage and give you a free drink with VODKA. How about this lady that talks to a statue of the Virgin Mary while drinking up a storm. Not very respectful is she. I hear theirs a porn show that if you’re in the audience you may get whacked on the ass by some nuts. Be careful of what you see. Well back to the green grass for a little snack. See you tomorrow.
Friday, DAY 10. Something weird happened at the Fringe Festival late Friday afternoon. The lights went out. I bet that that lady with the red hair, you know the one that rides around on that funny looking scooter, the one that has tattoos on her boobs, was scared s_ _ _tless. And her assistant, that pudgy guy, had to try and solve the problem. It’s about time he did something this week. Every time I see him he’s out on the green pasture eating, and eating, and eating. Well were they lucky, the lights went on, and everyone said “The Show Must Go On” and they did. Later I heard about a woman who lives in a garbage dump. They say she was pretty smart and when she talked she spoke like Maya Angelou, you know everything rhymed. That’s pretty hard to do, but I heard she was good at it. What’s your lucky number? I heard about this man that thinks his lucky number is 9. Why? But I heard someone say that he isn’t very patriotic and that he hates the Olympics. He talks about a convention of Tax Attorneys. I hope they kept receipts for everything they spent. Also, I heard that theirs a show about dirty junk or stuff or something. They say this guy is really funny. He has a strange way of talking. Every few seconds he sounds like another person. I hear he put on a fashion show in NY and had all prissy men wearing ladies clothes. Only in NY. Before I left the Fringe, I saw a man dressed like maybe he was from Viet Nam. He was good at talking also; he thinks that he has been reincarnated and returned to earth to make soup. He keeps changing his voice, like the guy with the dirty stuff, and plays a lot of parts. I bet he is really good, but he lives outside in a red tent. I bet he gets really hot some days. Well, it’s about time to go home. I’ll stop at the food lawn for a piece of bread pudding, or maybe some cotton candy; can you believe they have fried peanut and butter sandwiches, I think I’ll try that. See you early tomorrow.
Saturday, DAY 10. Boy, things are getting busy. The shows are packed, the taverns on the green are very busy, but unfortunately the rains came. Thankfully the lights didn’t go out again. Some creative minds are at work. They talk about the homeless, there’s a violin player who breaks his violin at every show, (that must get expensive), and this big robot that tears down buildings. The robot has a teeny tiny dog with him, and while this is all going on they play the weirdest music. Creepy. I heard about this guy that has the audience pla ing with balloons. The guy must not be very good because I heard that the audience members come up and do the show. They must be frustrated actors. There’s this kind of older man who must be so poor that he wears a moth eaten sweater while he tell stories. Did you know that he was electrocuted once; he lived to tell his story, and one time he did a dance in a morgue. He must be a weirdo? And I heard he had a horse whose name was Cinnamon. The horse must have smelled like a bakery. There’s a detective, at the Fringe, who talks funny. Everything he says either rhymes or he uses words that are spelled the same backwards; there’s a name for that but I can’t think of it. He and this woman must love Broadway shows. The have a contest to see who can mention the most shows. They’re good at it. I did a lot of people watching last night. Lot’s of weird looking people come to Fringe. And they all have something in common – they all wear the same type of badge button. Twice I was at the food court. I saw people eating home made potato chips, and some type of corn cakes with cheese melted in the middle, and hot dogs and hamburgers, and gyro sandwiches, and big big Greek salads, and sausage subs, and ribs, and and and. After eating all of that, I sure was full. I’ve been watching the beer tent, and not many people leave a tip for the Fringe. Come on people, the Fringe needs bucks so please, please help them. I’m going home. Goodnight!
Monday, Day 12. Of course, all of the winner’s, of the various Venue’s, put on their final shows. Nice crowds. The vendors packed up their food and wares, and moved out of the green swamp. So I guess it’s time for the “FAT MAN TO SING”.
I’m not going to sing right now, but I’ll be serious. Thanks to John DiDonna for asking me to write the “Myron Blattner Dairies”. Hopefully you found them to be funny, stupid, weird, stupid and stupid. I purposely used bad grammar, run on sentences, fragmented sentences’ and spelled a word incorrectly when talking about Julie Bunny; that was not intentional. Spell check didn’t pick it up because it was a good word; I called the chef a chief. I know that at least one person read the Diaries, because only one person called my attention to the error. Thanks Ed. I wasn’t trying to be a critic; I was just having fun. I would write them 3 or 4:00 in the morning. If you noticed, I didn’t mention any show by name.
I thought the Fringe was fantastic. Lot’s of new patron’s faces, lots of new artist faces, fantastic shows, and lots of good shows, and some so-so shows, and a few what ever. I saw 51 shows 21 of which I thought were fantastic or very, very good. But the piece de’ resistance was the benefit Monday night. All of you were hilarious and everyone loved it. Thanks to the three of you. What talent.
Thanks to all of the volunteers who worked long hours, were most helpful to the patron’s and a special thank you to the ones that had the dirty job cleaning up after all of us. To all of the artists, thank you for a wonderful 12 days.
Thank you to all of the wonderful people, patron’s, volunteers, artists and staff , who have become my Fringe Friends; you treat me as if I were someone special. Without you, the past three Fringes would have been so difficult without my beautiful smiling darling Adrianne. I love you all.
WE ALL ARE INDEBTED TO ALL OF THE STAFF OF THE ORLANDO INTERNATIONAL FRINGE FESTIVAL, but especially to GEORGE WALLACE and BETH MARSHAL. THANK YOU. WE LOVE YOU.
Now I think it’s time to sing. I hope no one can hear me.