Friday, June 26, 2020

Horizontal therapy


Flowers to celebrate a rare, somewhat spontaneous sexual encounter with my husband of 5000 thousand years last night -- that's the marriage of 5000 thousand years not him, though he could be younger..., as could I...
This is NOT us having sex

I've been meaning to bring in the new season pink-white camellias, but it took a little horizontal therapy for me to finally do it...

I reckon sex brings out the 'femininity' of a person of the female disposition, just as it affirms the 'masculinity' of a person of the male disposition, at least good sex does, bad sex is something else entirely. It probably brings out the worst in people; the worst of man, the worst of woman. I'm lucky I don't  much about it personally.

But at this point in time (30+ years married) we both need a bit of preparation ('warning'), though not always, and not last night. It's so much better without warning! Hence the celebratory flowers. They're the coda... and the entree...

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Killing Comedy


'Ding-dong the witch is dead, the wicked old witch is dead...'



... is a celebratory song lyric written by a couple of musical men in the 1930s for one of the most popular films of all times, The Wizard of Oz. And for fans of this song, film and character – the Wicked Witch of the West, whose death they so joyously celebrate, a character widely voted ‘the best witch’ and female villain of all time – you will be pleased to hear that they have been resurrected recently by a bar in central Auckland called Ding Dong Lounge that hosts a regular Thursday night open-mic comedy gig known as Dead Witch Comedy. The witch may be dead – ding dong – but she lives on every Thursday night in Auckland.

As it happens I do a bit of stand-up comedy and performed fairly regularly at this open-mic venue last year, but that was before it was renamed for 2020 as Dead Witch Comedy. Then it was more innocently known as Comedy at Ding Dong, and on those occasions, standing up under a green light, with my big nose and pointy chin (and mic stand for broomstick when needed), I was probably the closest thing to a witch in body if not name, living or dead, on the premises. Probably; one never knows for sure with witches. But I was certainly the only woman over 40, the minimum age for witches ‘real’ and fictional in these line-ups that were routinely young-male heavy.

But with the re-naming to Dead Witch Comedy to bring in the new year and decade, along with a new logo depicting a young naked woman on a broomstick in rear view, I decided I was not comfortable performing there anymore and got in touch with the man who runs the gig, telling him that I would not return while this new name and logo were in place and requesting that they be removed. He replied that he had no control over the changes but defended the naked woman logo by telling me it was taken from a 1910 painting. Oh, so it’s art. That’s alright then. 

Except by my reckoning it is not alright. Art has come a long way since 1910, but it needs to come further still. And so I have not been back to do my funny dance under the green light at Ding Dong since these changes – their loss. Only it’s my loss too of course because comics need as much broom time as we can get.

The NZ Comedy Trust and Guild have just received a chunk of money from Creative New Zealand, some for Covid relief and the rest, they say, for working to make our comedy industry more diverse. But the Guild has regularly advertised this open-mic gig on its Facebook page, as has the Auckland Comedy Community online group, a gig in name and logo that brazenly panders to the juvenile and sexist sensibilities of some straight men, especially young straight men, the dominant comedy demographic by far, while sexualising young and demonising older women, the most underrepresented demographic in comedy by some measure. And sure enough the line-ups for these DWC gigs that comics volunteer to take part in continue to see far more men than women signing up, with the average line-up being 10 to 2 men to women, as well as a male MC. 

And these numbers are repeated across the vast majority of comedy line-ups for rookie and paid pro gigs in Auckland and beyond, because the problem of male bias in comedy is of course not only at Ding Dong. They’re just the most brazen and, you could say, honest about it. But the problem is global and in my observation increasing, not decreasing, as it should be with more women every year trying to break into the industry and ‘killing it’ on the comedy stage when they are given the opportunity.  

It does not help that our physical safety is at risk in this industry, as recent, and not so recent, sexual-harassment and abuse complaints by women comics here and in the Irish comedy communities attest to, as does the tragic 2018 rape and murder of a young Melbourne comic on her way home from a gig and the penis graffiti mocking her violent death that was drawn at the site afterwards by an established male member of the Australian comedy community. This is already more than enough to put women off turning up to perform at open-mics and other comedy gigs, without us having to do so in the name of dead witches and naked women on broomsticks.

I would like to end on a joke but I am a little out of practice. Also, I don’t feel exactly amused by this situation, not least because I have already had a previous complaint about it publicly mocked and shut down by men and women in the NZ comedy community. But if we are serious about making the industry more diverse and spending public money wisely and fairly, my two cents worth (I’m not making a lot of money here) is that we need to take active measures to ensure we have more inclusive and less abusive ways to ‘kill’ on the comedy stage than with bare bums  and broomsticks.  Ding dong. 

Published in 'Scoop' magazine today here:   https://www.scoop.co.nz/stories/HL2006/S00167/killing-comedy.htm




Monday, June 8, 2020

Mall withdrawal

So... it's June already and I've only blogged once this year, way back in Feb, before Covid (BC), at least before the globalisation of this worst pandemic since anyone living can remember, even my mother, who is 96 . Admittedly, she doesn't remember much (except for my loooooooooong list of crimes, of course).

Apologies to anyone out there who might have missed me, I have been neglecting you a long time now and cannot blame any virus for that. So I would not blame you in the least if you have long since given up on me and moved on. Indeed we have all 'moved on' since those deceptively innocent times in Feb, some, tragically, not of their own volition. And so no one can blame anyone - well except HIM (and him, and...) for anything.

As I write, the Covid death toll has topped 400,000 and the number of cases this morning reached a staggering 7 million across more than 200 countries, which is most of them, though a handful of countries are now - for now - Covid free, including NZ almost (we have 1 active case), numbers that just a short time ago no one would have imagined possible, except of course for the many experts who predicted the very thing and told us to STOP LIVE ANIMAL MARKETS and various other precautions in an attempt to prevent such an outbreak, but we did not listen. Instead, we went shopping, in our various live animal markets...

Until we didn't.

And you know something has changed at the heart of the capitalist world when the malls are closed for business for whole weeks and months, as they were here for 2 months and are still elsewhere closed, a totally unprecedented occurrence. Oddly, though we thought we couldn't live without malls, it turned out that we (the lucky ones at least) could and did - everywhere except Sweden that is - and survived, with a little or a lot more cash in our pockets and fresh air in our lungs.

They reopened their many doors here on May 15 but we only capitulated to their bright-lights lure last weekend to get emergency shoes for two of our crew of three, one a birthday present (one pair not one shoe. We're not that cheap). And the small, mid-range shop we ended up favouring, according to its manager had done more than $2,000 in sales that day, and it was only mid-afternoon, which she informed us was a lot! A lot of work! It wasn't our fault, we didn't spend that much, we only bought two pairs and the second was half price!

But never mind shoes. The queue for the makeup shop shamed all the other shops, even the shoes, and suggested its customers might have been suffering a degree of mall withdrawal during lock-down. Suffer no more, the mighty mall is back, with its many lovely lures. Just beware those live animals, they are not all as lovely as they (we) may seem and look, with or without makeup -- and heels.