I probably wouldn’t have lasted this week except for the fact the Grand Beaver (GB) has been away since Tuesday in Sydney. He’s there to host an information evening for people interested in the Ultimate Beaver Campaign which as far as I know has zero attendees. It probably didn’t help that all the invites had Gouda’s email address to send their RSVPs to and since she left last week nobody can access her inbox.
The straw that broke this beaver’s back was tossed last Thursday. The GB and his underling both approached together as I was in the middle of a long chat with my own mobile phone, a trick I’d picked up from my dim dark days of working for the Wineclub California, where ‘you can end your membership anytime you like but you can never leave.’
He had been thinking hard about how to increase voting from the public and had come up with a novel and revolutionary marketing approach that had never been tried before.
It was an, “exciting new challenge” and would offer, “stimulation and a fresh work environment.”
We were going to hand our flyers.
He cast his gaze in my direction and said, “You can use your acting skills for this Greg.”
I can’t believe that anybody anywhere wanted to punch anyone anymore than I did at that moment.
What a cock-knocker. He then returned to his desk to shout out how many ‘hits’ some video one of beaver contributors had whipped up was getting on YouTube.
“Hey guys, the video’s only been online for three hours and it’s had 32 hits!”
I considered telling him about ‘Standing Cat’ and ‘Chocolate Rain’ but decided he didn’t deserve to see such genius.
He watched the video two more times.
“Wow! It’s up to 34!”
Jesus wept.
So, Tiddly Tee and I spent yesterday wandering around Melbourne handing out flyers. All I can say is thank God for car window wipers. The flyers are trying to get people to pay $0.55 to vote for the Ultimate Beaver and ultimately win a trip for two to Singapore. There are mystery and weekly prizes as well. The mystery prizes are Nandos chicken vouchers. The weekly prizes are luggage. If you won all three you could eat chicken as you packed your new luggage to go to Singapore.
We’re spending our final day handing our more flyers so I thought I’d use my last afternoon at Beaver Central to share with you some confidential clippings from the comments column of my spreadsheet of many colours, just like Wikileaks. This is but a brief glimpse into the five weeks of rejection and ridiculousness I have been party to. UTC stands for Unable to contact, LM left message, EM…email.
Before I finish I would like to give a big ikky ikky kia kaha to all my family and friends having to deal with the quaking earth under Christchurch. I have seen some truly terrifying and shocking images of the devastation that mother nature has wrought upon my home town. None more so than this.
This one however comes a close second.
That is what is left of the facade of the Repertory Theatre. The Rep holds a special place in my heart. Some of the first shows I ever acted in were staged there; Carousel, South Pacific & Animal Farm, as was one of the best shows I ever saw, When Did You Last See Your Trousers?
The star of that show is now the current mayor of Christchurch and by all accounts is handling the crisis rather well. Maybe the experience of being chased around the stage in no trousers by a man in a gorilla suit prepared him to cope with just such an event? I had heard rumours that The Rep had reached the end of its run and would have to be demolished but then I read this from Rozena Hallum.
"Of course we await a proper inspection, but Charles Luney knew how to build for posterity so we are hopeful. After 83 years of continuing activity, the show will go on!"
As long as there is Repertory, there is hope.
