Tour Whore, July 22, 2012

“Hey, have you been out to see <world-famous local museum> yet?”

by Cameron Moore

“Hey, have you been out to see <world-famous local museum> yet?”

“Why don’t we check out <scenic nearby region> this weekend?”

“So, what do you do for fun?”

Answers: no, meh, what?

You look at the map where I’ve been on tour, and it looks amazing, right? I’ve probably seen a lot of great shit! I mean, 34 cities and more in this sprawling loop around North America, passing through or by some amazing natural wonders of the world and major centers of art and culture and civic importance and obviously I would have taken it all in!

the things I “do for fun” almost always involve people, even while on tour

Except I haven’t. I’m the girl who lived in St. Petersburg, Russia, for a year and a half and never once went into the Hermitage Museum. When I visit Bangladesh, my favorite thing to do is get out of the car and walk through a market. I have not travelled anywhere for any reason other than politics, performing, or family. Ever. I think I have a personality that doesn’t gravitate towards scenery or attractions. There’s always another purpose, I’m always multi-tasking. 

And the things I “do for fun” almost always involve people, even while on tour. Hell, especially while on tour. I’ve written before about dislocation and rootlessness, and how I’m constantly torn between craving the tour and craving domesticity. Home is where the keys fit, and where you know where things are, and where the people love you. I don’t have a stable source for that, but I’m constantly trying to create some approximation of that experience. So, given the choice, my down time includes other people, doing something that maybe isn’t terribly exotic, but feels comfortable, it’s kinda normal, and it’s better for doing it with friends.

thrift-store shopping

party at someone’s house, mine, when I can!

Group ice cream date

Boggle or Scrabble at a bar

Hanging out at a coffeehouse with other writer friends, working separately but taking occasional breaks for chat and re-fills.

Out on tour, though, really, my instinctive response to “what do you do for fun” is “I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR FUN, YOU DAFT FUCK”. Like, I know I could prioritize, I know that many other Fringe artists go out and do things and take pictures of each other at museums or at bars, I see photographic evidence of this fun happening and I get a little envious. Not of their doing it, it’s not that. I could go and stand ironically in front of a major civic monument if I wanted to, it’s a free country. No, I’m envious of their apparent ease of doing it. They are all successful at various levels, it’s not that they are losing out by going to that statue and therefore not flyering at the Fringe. They feel comfortable stepping away. I don’t. It’s a bit of a neurosis for me; I worry about failure. I get stressed when I think about absenting myself from the Fringe campus for any time at all.

instead I choose different ways of having fun at the Fringe

So… instead I choose different ways of having fun at the Fringe. Sidewalk Smut, where I interview strangers about their sex lives and fantasies and then type custom pornography for them on the spot. Or the thing that I’m organizing with a friend here in the Winnipeg Fringe, a Backyard Campout installation, with s’mores and pillow fights and mini-performances taking place in a tent.

The thing that I think most people don’t get when they ask me that question—“what do you do for fun?”—is that I receive strong, authentic enjoyment just from Fringing. Like, it’s kind of enough. Flyering people is fun (except on days like today when I’ve lost my voice. But even then I have fun thinking about the perfect sign and interactive component to help me go out and flyer the lines and protect my voice at the same time). Meeting new people is fun; flirting with them is even more fun. Sleeping in is fun. Eating at a restaurant and running into other performers I know, that’s fun. Going out to see other people’s shows and having my mind blown is fun. Strolling around in some wack-ass sexy-time outfit during the middle of the day and making non-Fringe audiences’ eyes bug out, that is totally fun. (Hmmm. As soon as I finish this column, I have to figure out what outfit I’m going to work today.)

I guess the things I like aren’t really suited for photographic documentation.

Reading this, I wonder if it maybe comes off a little… one-track. Really? Only Fringing and performing and creating new stuff and hanging around with other people who are in the same boat? Wouldn’t I be a better, more well-rounded person if I, well, I don’t know, if I were obsessive about roller coasters? Or liked to stroll through botanical gardens? Or did yoga or flew kites or played Dance Dance Revolution? 

I don’t know, I’m pretty well-rounded. I guess the things I like aren’t really suited for photographic documentation. I like to splash around naked in large bodies of water. I like to dance to reggae and dancehall, dirty-dance, if I can find someone who is good and can keep up. I love to cook. I like karaoke. I like orgasms and Brie with crackers and the new Sherlock and the whole Bourne trilogy and watching good modern dance. I like to do all this with friends. And some of my best friends are on the Fringe. 

So yeah, I don’t think I’m one-track. I’m just highly focused in time and space.

Cameryn Moore is at the Winnipeg Fringe July 19-29

camerynmoore.com