Make-a-Circus So. Cal Tour, 1999



7/16/99 - Friday

Drive to LA. Van leaves 3 1/2 hours late due to problems with the original van. The van is cramped, poor ventilation. We arrive after midnight. Others have arrived first and are in a festive mood. Sara Moore, the lead female, is in the advanced stages of a good mood, making toasts. Large bottles of Corona are being drunk. I stick to Bushmill's and retire to my room, where I have my first (and one of very few) conversations with Phil Hampton, the stage manager.
 
 

7/17/99 - Saturday

I take a cell phone call by the motel pool. As my phone is battered, and I'm in a Motel 6, I feel like a low-rent movie mogul. Hot, clear weather, but with a breeze. Play a gig in Lake Forest. Nice park, the neighborhood is a neatly kept up tract with a mix of races. Nice crowd. The show starts at 5 PM, which makes for us striking in the dark. During setup my bass cabinet slides of the bass riser due to uneven ground. In frustration and anger I find myself kicking the cabinet.

We check in to our Motel 6 in Westminster. The floors are dirty enough that I never walk barefoot. The rooms stink of disinfectant. Ottavio smokes a cigarette (rare for him) and starts doing a sleazy clown but which is punctuated by a hacking cough - sort of like Crusty the Clown but even sleazier.
 
 

7/18/99 - Sunday

We go to Carlsbad in San Diego County - it's out of the way, as we are now staying in Westminster, east of Long Beach. It's a tough start after working late the night before. The show is in a prosperous area. Seems like we're doing fewer shows in low-income areas compared to other years. It often makes for easier gigs but I wonder if the circus is losing its mission.

Sunday night we go to The Derby on Los Feliz. There is a fairly good swing band, but with electric bass. The crowd is pretty suburban. Lots of polo shirts and shorts. Also a lot of folks who look like they bought their swing duds last week. I'm in my black flat cap and black Dickies jacket. I'm sitting at the bar next to Shelly Kastner, the aerialist. When she gets up, a guy tries to take the seat. I tell him it's taken, pointing to the unfinished drink. He says he wants to stay there until Shelly comes back. I tell him that's fine, but the seat is taken. When Shelly comes back, he gets off the chair so fast that Shelly asks if I threatened the guy. Afterwards we go to the Drawing Room, a dive bar recommended by Javier, a friend of Megan Kilian, the ASM. The bartender appears to be a tall Latina goth girl. I have a drink at the bar and can put my feet up on the neighboring barstool. When Prodigy comes on, the bartender becomes very animated, sitting by me to tell me how much she loves Prodigy and Marilyn Manson. I decide not to pursue the conversation further.
 
 

7/19/99 - Monday

Get up in Westminster - Jaron Hollander is hanging out outside his room. Turns out his roommate, Don Paul Swain, the tech director, is practicing sword-swallowing. To master it, you need to stifle the gag reflex, so Don Paul is in his bathroom making awful guttural gagging noises. Good example of the downside of circus roommates.

I like Don Paul - he is sweet, but has the soul of a real carny - he has a gag with a cup of chemicals that turns water into a fizzy semisolid, so you can appear to spill . He also has an alarm clock in the shape of an Islamic temple that has a choice of five different calls to prayer. the clock is pretty horrid sounding anyway, but Jaron, being Jewish, finds it especially unnerving.

In the afternoon Dawn Smith, Blair Williams, Jaron, Sara, Shelly, Brian Zalewski (the drummer) and I all go to Santa Monica. Jaron drives us, which we all find frightening. He nearly hits a car pulling out of the lot, and nearly takes out a car door when we park. The car we almost hit when parking beings to a guy who is pinned in by us getting out of the van. After a while he is in disbelief as he continues to see people spilling out of the van. He says to me, "How many people are in there?"

We eat at The Promenade at Cafe Matisse, where they are very nice to us despite our being a rather motley bunch. We go to the Pier - the perfect crowd to go to the amusement park with - real connoisseurs of the art. We ride the roller coaster, which is quite tame but has wonderful views of the ocean. As I look down from the roller coaster I see Sara making wonderful fretful clown faces. I notice that Sara and Ottavio often seem to be as clowning offstage as on. What a hilarious bunch of people. I can't recall ever having so much fun in a group.
 
 

7/20/99 - Tuesday

We play at Lafayette Park near downtown LA. Tough show. At first, Phil Hampton, the stage manager, tried to cancel the show, as the site had a competing act from the local women's pro basketball team. We also have a palm tree right in the center of the edge of the ring. Apparently Randall had put a notice on some circus memos about this site saying "WARNING: Possible incomprehension." The kids are good, though. We got our own back at the end of the day, when the folks who put on the basketball event asked what the kids liked the most during that day, and a big chorus of kids said "the Circus!" The gig turned out fun, although miserably hot. After a chilly winter, spring, and early summer, I never thought I'd feel too hot, but all I want after the show is a cold soda, a cold shower, and a dip in the pool. I luxuriate in the chill from cool air on my skin after the dip.

The evenings are surprisingly beautiful. Clear, mild. Went to dinner at a souse Mexican restaurant that served weak Margaritas. During dinner Dawn started to cry, be cause she realized she would be leaving everybody when she moves to New York this fall to go to school. I said that I'd never seen her cry before, and she surprised me by reaching out to hug me and crying in my arms.
 

7/21/99 - Wednesday

Played an evening show at Lake Mission Viejo. Very posh place, lots of fancy houses. Got a chance to go for a quick dip in the lake prior to the show. We get some arcing in the PA between the speaker cables where they go into the power amp, blowing out a channel on the power amp. We wind up having to do an emergency kludge. Brian realizes that we can piggyback the cables, so we make it through the show. The stage is sloped so steeply that I play barefoot, hanging ten on my riser so I can keep my balance.

Afterwards we went back to our hotel in Westminster and walked to a local bar called "C'est Si Bon," where we drank quite a bit and played pool. Sara mugged it up, pretending to start to play on the neighboring table, which is being used by some local women.
 
 

7/22/99 - Thursday

Day off. People are very slow to rise. All who were at the bar seem hung over, not too surprising when I find that many outrank me, and I had four bourbons. Do laundry. Don Paul talks of seeing his friend Chuckles, who is a stripper clown.

In the afternoon I drive to Venice with Jaron, Billy, Bobby, and Brandy. Prowl Venice for a bit, eat at The Broadway Deli, and hook up with my buddy David Javelosa at The Pier, where Los Straitjackets and Chuck E. Weirs are playing. Los Straitjackets are a hoot. They wear black turtlenecks and black jeans, wrestling masks, and play surf music - very well, too. Between songs their stage patter is in Spanish, although they appear and sound Anglo, and they have some stage choreography. the band sounds great over the PA. Chuck E. Weiss, the subject of Ricky Lee Jones' song "Chuck E.'s in Love" is doing a adventurous music stylistically. It's a mix of blues and jazz, with some spoken word stuff, but At first it seems sort of messy and doesn't always work on a big stage. Los Straitjackets has some wrestler masks for sale. I am hoping the red sequined number could fit me, as my red goatee could point out the open chin. I muse how the mask would look on the circus gig, but the cool masks aren't available in my size.  Kinda funny to think that the wrestler masks are too small.

We go to Bob Burns (apparently named for the poet Robert Burns), a classic style steakhouse with a booths and a piano bar, which has a a black woman featured as the singer pianist and a woman bassets. It's a beautiful warm night.
 
 

7/23/99 - Friday

Lenox Boy and Girls Club. this show is in a tough location - Unglued, by LAX. I am riding with Brian and Shelly. We stop for coffee and Shelly starts to take a hop and nearly lands on a passed out drunk. There is a store with a neon sign that says "Cerveza Fria Para La Raza Mia," which roughly translates to "Cold Beer for My People." Below is a sign in Spanish from the LA Sheriff's Department advising why firing guns in the air is a bad way to celebrate an event.

The gig is at a school on 111th. The area is tough enough that access is controlled with a big gate.

This has been a really good show in the past, but the kids are not as well behaved this year, although they pick up after themselves.
 
 

7/24/99 - Saturday

Paramount

Turns out the show is kind tough for the performers - the crowd is not very responsive. Very hot day.
 
 

7/25/99 - Sunday

We play in Torrance. Not many black kids, but lots of Asians. Johannes has been making a bit of mentioning my name repeatedly during the show.  Finally, he asks the crowd, "what's the bass player's name?" and they yell back "Kurt Ribak!" Johannes then asks, "What's my name?" Puzzled silence in the audience. Johannes complains jokingly that there's something wrong with this. I reply that I see no problem.

Don Paul introduces me to Chuckles, who has acne scars, thick glasses and bleached hair, as well as a clown T-shirt. One of Chuckles' arms is heavily scarred - I wonder if she was a cutter. She mentions having done referrals for plastic surgeons, and she sports a truly unnerving tattoo on her calf. It's of a smiling clown whacking off his hand with a machete. The clown is already a double amputee on a skateboard. Chuckles mentions another clown friend, Knockers. I say I can guess her major attribute, but apparently her specialty is sitting on cakes, although I don't learn how she is distinctive as a cake sitter. I later learn from Don Paul Knockers also has a gig writing a sex advice column, possibly for Playboy.

We are having more PA troubles. After the show we have the long drive to San Diego.
 
 

7/26/99 - Monday

After laundry, Brian and I haul the PA to the pro audio shop. I go with a group to the beach. San Diego beach is remarkably crowded on this Monday. I rush the group back to the hotel so I can pick up the PA, but it's still in pieces.
 
 

7/27/99 - Tuesday

I rise early so I can get the van. we are short on vehicles, and I need to pick up the PA, so I ride to the early call with the teens and then drive back. Brian and I get the PA after an espresso stop. We pull into the Chula Vista gig with moments to spare, Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" blaring from our van.  I keep that riff as a them for Brian during the shows, so that I play that as his intro music.  We have also been using "YMCA" for Johannes' introduction.

The site appears very sterile suburban, with new tracts marching off into the desert. The kids are great, though. Most of the kids have been brought in from daycares and are a wide mix of races. The kids are rowdy enough to have fun, but pay attention. Afterwards kids are practicing their new skills. A kid comes and says to me, "Hi, Mr. Ribak!" , the result no doubt of Johannes plugging my name. Another kid comes up and offers me his popsicle, which surprises our keyboardist Billy, as he says I am the meanest-looking of the band (which may not be saying much).

that night we drive into Encinitas to see a private screening just for us at the La Paloma Theater of Sara's movie "Homo Heights." It has a score by Evan Lurie and features Lea de Laria and Quentin Crisp.
 
 

7/28/99 - Wednesday

We play Coronado, a beautiful town. A bit like an resort version of Alameda - lots of cute houses, big Navy presence. The audience seems very ready when we get there - lots of circus costume on the kids, etc., but they are remarkably subdued. We recognize some folks that came both days, though. A woman comes up who was at Chula Vista - I remember her as not being from a daycare, but having a wide group of kids with her of various races and types whom she calls her children. Turns out she is a foster mom, and wanted to tell us how one of her kids was a crack baby and was typically apathetic and hard to reach, but the circus had him fired up like nothing else had. He was excited by what he had learned, and was showing it off. She wanted to thank us for reaching her stepchild. It's so wonderful to hear stories like that - it's a big part of why I do the circus.

Afterwards we load the truck, and discover we need to partially unload it so that Ottavio can retrieve his keys. Eventually we load the circus truck, a daily routine, and drive 276 miles to Lost Hills. We check in at 11 PM, and are the first to arrive. In the parking lot we see some cottontail rabbits and a toad.
 
 

7/29/99 - Thursday

Drive home from Lost Hills. Sleep, eat, sleep more.
 
 

7/30/99 - Friday

Novato. Beautiful summer day. I lounge briefly beneath an oak tree, feeling completely content. Some woman comes with a bunch of kids and does a Chinese ribbon dance with the kids. She then does an interpretive piece which is accompanied by New Age music which makes the band flee the stage. Good audience - responsive, attentive. After truck pack Ottavio thinks he has lost his keys again, and wriggles in to open the costume box, which is in the truck. Groans all around, Ottavio is left to his own devices. At dinner that night he confesses that the keys turned out to be in his backpack.

The Artistic Managing Director, Dan Mankin, invites us over for a barbecue. The food is great, but few people attend. We are all tired and soon leave, as we have an early call the next day.