And So To Sum Up…
So you’ll note that we missed a few things while I was away. Those being the odd Podcast chat with Darcy. The show update upon my return, and if nothing else the great big gaping hole in blog postings between me shutting the laptop in Melbourne and then reopening it when I hit the still-yet-warming rolling hills of Toronto. Reason for that? There’s two things I never pay for in life; sex and internet. I don’t care what language it comes up on on my screen. $9.95 for an hour of texting just ain’t going to play for tva. So to all you airport lounges across the land…stick it. Unless you buy me dinner first. “But,” you may ask, “why didn’t you find a coffee shop that had internet access and blog there?” Well, two reasons. One being my card for my laptop that I bought SPECIFICALLY for that very job decided that it didn’t like any of the interwebs that were available in Hong Kong. Another being that we’d only have about three-to-four minutes before we were not buying coffee and off doing things…instead of typing about doing things. Easy trade off I suppose.
In a nutshell, Hong Kong was astounding and the 24 hours in Tokyo was as mindboggling as it was exhausting. The hope that the staying up would force me to sleep on the flight home from Tokyo was ill planned. Truckers driving a load of Ikea furniture through the Prairies in a night got more contiguous hours of sleep than I did. But sleep is something you can always get later. So I got it later. And it eventually came. Of course so did the monsterish-looming-you-sure-you-didn’t-juggle-dead-birds-while-you-were-over-there cold that I probably got from the middle-aged germ cannon sitting behind me on Air Canada Petri Dish 002 non-stop from NRT to YYZ.
Here then are the highlights as they come to me:
Amazing. What helped was having a guy with you that spoke Cantonese. That way him and the two Whiteys could let him decide the menu and we would graciously accept. Not one thing was really odd outside of the preserved egg which comes out tasting like a very rich hard boiled egg, but looks like an egg that has been sitting around for waaaaaaaaay too long. Because it is in fact an egg that’s been sitting around for waaaaaaaaay too long. Slam on a bit of ginger and it was fine. Man of the Match as far as restaurants go, topping even the place that was famous for roasted goose was a restaurant outside of the tiny village of Tai O outside of Lantau. The place was found in the heart of what I assumed was “White Trash Town”, since it was found at the end of a road with houses that had rusted-out cars on blocks being used for storage, known where I’m from as “Chevy sheds”. Glad to see Whitey still has a presence over here. The restaurant had no walls, but see-through plastic sheets billowing in the breeze. We entered and sat at one of the huge round tables that was empty. The food came instantly and was dirt, dirt, dirt cheap, as was all the food we partook of. Three ate like kings for $30 CDN. Take THAT, Kelsey’s!
Not only was the food at Tai O fantastic, but the view going up the gondola to the Giant Buddha defied descriptions. Pictures to follow, but it’s pretty cool seeing planes take off and being able to look down at them doing so in the process. The Giant Buddha? It’s pretty much that. A big Buddha. It delivers what it promises.
WEIRD BRUSHES WITH PEOPLE WHO KNOW PEOPLE I KNOW:
Meeting 1 – Melbourne:
Flyering for my show, ran into a woman who used to live in Mississauga. She was, and currently is, the aunt of Zoe Randall, the woman who books me for the AltDot and SketchCom shows at the Rivoli.
Meeting 2 – Hong Kong:
Watching the match before Man U v. Arsenal, a guy from St. Louis settles in and finds out I’m from a comic from Toronto. Asks if I know Chris Locke, and upon me telling him that I did a show with him not too long ago, he states Chris’ dad has something to do with his company. Fairly big wheel, him.
Meeting 3 – Tokyo:
Upon finding out I was a comic from Toronto, this ex-pat Canadian asks me if I know a lesbian comic named Dawn. “Dawn Whitwell?” I ask. “That’s probably it,” he states. How many lesbian comics in Toronto named Dawn can there be? Yeah, she’s his former niece (connecting marriage dissolved…I had to ask as well).
24 HOURS IN TOKYO:
In the same way that 24 hours can’t do that city justice, a spot in a blog can’t either. The pack of folks I hung out with from England, France, and Germany made the night special and the day harder. You try saying goodbyes at 6:00am and then staying awake on a 9:00am tour bus. It’s hard. I look forward to doing that town again.
Loaded with pubs and restaurants, this street in Hong Kong goes nuts and is completely crowded with folks, most to all as friendly as you liked. Found a Canadian place called The Keg, that unlike the franchised steak house here at home served up several ex-pat Canadian beers…well, Molson Canadian, anyway…and had the walls dressed with framed hockey jerseys and pictures of Bobby Orr and Russ Jackson. What’s not to love? It had no kitchen that we could see so it looked like orders were placed and then brought over from one of the neighbouring kitchens. You’d be having a beer and suddenly a plate of wings would come through the front door and land on a table. Well, a server brought them in, they didn’t just get in there themselves. Technology is somewhat advanced over there but it’s not as good as hovering server plates. It was fun watching local girls attempt to eat a plate of Buffalo wings with a fork. You try it if you think it’s easy.
Most everyone was cool on the street but there was a few stuck-up ones. A trio of over-dressed ladies were across the street from us and I got dared into getting the one with her back to us to turn around so the others could see it. I immediately took off my watch and bounded across the street. Tapping her on the shoulder, I asked for the time, expecting her to turn around. A bonehead play on my part but what the heck, it’s a dare. Cue her to do nothing but arrogantly flash a bling-loaded watch into my face without unfixing her gaze. Huh. No movement there. Completely shot down with her feeling she put me in my place. I returned to the table in defeat.
As we got ready to leave, I noticed the ladies hadn’t moved, the one whose face we’d yet to clock still fixed in her previous position.
“Hang on a sec, guys. I have some unfinished business.” I bounded over to the trio once again.
This time after talking to her, not only did the guys see her face, but saw it go white, then red, then stare back at me in utter shock as her friend bellowed at me to be gone.
The conversation went something like this:
tva: Hi. Look, sorry about that whole stupid ‘what time is it’ thing. Bad play on my part.
FaceChick: [silent and smug still not looking at me]
tva: So, what I meant to ask you is this. How much?
FaceChick: [silent, but now taken aback and staring at me]
tva: I just wanted to know how much it’d cost to…oh wait…unless I’ve totally misread this…I’ve misread this…I am so sorry…
FaceChick: [pale and going red with embarrassment] You should go…
tva: Look, I didn’t realize…I’m soooooo sorry…but you can totally see where my problem would be…
FaceChick’s-Fat-Friend-That-FaceChick-Hangs-Around-To-Make-FaceChick-Look-Even-Better: Look! My friend said go, so go!
Obviously FCFFTFCHARMFCLEB’s years as a guard at a women’s penitentiary worked well for her.
Damn it feels good to be a prankster.