Tonight, I was the person that you might spot when you’re out and about, making bizarre hand gestures while laughing. You would have probably wondered what the hell I was doing, and what I was trying to communicate. I was at Lizotte’s in Newcastle, a fantastic venue with awesome acts and food, seeing Gretel Killeen and Jackie Loeb. It was during the twenty minute gap between Gretel and Jackie that I was describing something my brain had just cooked up, and for one reason or another, the describing involved me grabbing at my boobs and making “hooter” gestures. Nice. Classy.
Now, my beloved is well-versed in me attempting to recreate different ideas or images that my brain has produced, and knows to wait patiently until I get to the point that makes sense. She usually waits, giggles in anticipation, and is generally just bloody lovely. To someone who was watching? Well, it would have been two women in a romantic corner, one of the women smiling and nodding while the other makes the universal gestures for breast grabbing while speaking in a voice that becomes louder as it is fuelled with ideas and imagery.
While I can’t remember the finer details of why I was partaking in public self-groping, I very clearly recall that moment when I realised I’d taken hand gestures way too far. It was reminiscent of the feeling I had when I was performing my sexy crutches dance to my friend as she drove towards me, and then realised that it wasn’t actually her car, or her in the car, and that I was gyrating and shaking my crutches at a very confused man. He didn’t seem all that impressed by my dancing. He certainly didn’t offer me transportation.
Anyway, Gretel and Jackie. Seriously funny women. Gretel made me laugh. So, so much. My beloved thinks it’s the everydayness of her comedy that makes her hilarious, I’m leaning more towards those throwaway lines that have been such a trademark – but maybe it’s both. Either way, it was worth the ticket to just see Gretel.
But then out bursts Jackie. Now, it was either the opening performance of Happy, or the closing performance as Beige (the alternative to Pink) that won me over. Jackie started well and ended well. The stuff in between was great, too. Particular highlights: waiting outside the toilet when an audience member popped to the loo just before the show finished; the elastics performance (as opposed to Pink’s silks performance); the kudos to female hip hop stars – and the real surprise – she plays a mean guitar and keyboard! Holy crap. I was stunned.
So, if you get the chance, go and see these comedic gems.
It was when Jackie was talking about being gay that I became a little more reflective. She asked an audience member what it was like to be normal. This question stuck with me.
Because being gay is my normal. And the normal of many, many other people.
Which is why this article is such a freaking outrage. But I have a hunch Mrs Woog is going to tackle this particular breast…
And by accidentally typing “breast” instead of “beast”, I’ve taken this post full circle.