Ginger Geezer


Creating posters for the shows.



Meanwhile, Vivian had decided he would do all the posters for all the shows that came our way. Since, over the course of the Old Pro's life, we had over two hundred get-ins and get-outs, plus assorted bands from jazz to gunk to moments of sheer terror, plus cabaret, plus poets (and as Mark Twain said, "Poets who read their work in public may have other bad habits."), plus art (with a capital F) openings, plus hiphops and weddings and a truly memorable Hell's Angel Weenie Roast consisting of the whole pig, this was a lot of posters. I honestly don't think he finished one of them before the very day of the very show they were meant to advertise. What the hell. They were beauties... and one of them became the album cover for the re-release of Bonzo Dog's Keynsham (Edsel label, yes?) That's the one where he drew his out-of-body experiences.

You can see him here working away on one. I have no idea which one - though his Skin the Peeler effort is on our bed. (I must have also been on our bed in order to take this picture.) Vivian and our bed were about all that fit in the captain's cabin. And me, I fit in the captain's cabin. After all, were I not the cap'n?

Vivian also took on the running of our 'Art Gallery'. What this meant was that local artists would wine & dine him in the hopes he would show their stuff on our walls. And also so he would do them a poster. Going into this in the high expectation that there would be lot he would have to make posters for, he soon learned that most of the time he had to say 'no'. Better him than me. A disappointed painter is a bitter painter, and a bitter painter is more likely to cut off your ear than his own.

And so... time passed on the 'river' - not like Alice's sleepy Summer's Day, but like a conga line.

Considering, and such, this could be bloody endless - after all, the life of a fully-floating fully functioning theater/art gallery/music venue with a fully floating Vivian in the middle of it, plus all our friends, was rather eventful. And it all led to the Comic Opera, STINKFOOT, which is the subject of another section... called, oddly enough, STINKFOOT .

In time, and not such a long time from now, I believe I'll attempt to recall some of the delicious people who 'trod our boards'. I bet the list will surprize even me.



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