OH THOSE WACKY
12 February 2003
It must get lonely in the Outback. Boring in the Bush. What's a bloke gonna do?
What else? Scrunch up your dangly bits until they resemble the Loch Ness Monster. Or
the Eiffle Tower. Or a sea anemone.
Yes, my life is complete. I have been to The Puppetry of the Penis. What's
even better--I didn't have to pay to see it.
The first interesting thing about this show is that it was playing at Sacramento's big
classic old movie-theatre-turned-legit-theatre, the kind with the big marquee and gold
gilt and all that good stuff. If you hadn't read ahead of time that this show was playing
there, you never would have known it. The marquee blared the title of movies being shown
on some of the smaller screens and in a teeny sign at the bottom of the ticket window was
a message about Puppetry of the Penis.
Yet all the people milling around were there for that show.
Second interesting thing--this was not your typical theatre going crowd. There were no
blue-haird ladies with their cane-supported husbands, there were no dress up clothes, no
society types. No, this had the feel of a night club crowd. When we were seated, Walt made
a sweeping glance of the audience and said "well, somebody has to be the
oldest person here, and it looks like that's me." Which made me the second oldest
person in the 1,000+ seat house.
And they sold popcorn. I'm not sure why I found that odd, but who sells popcorn to a
Except this wasn't exactly a "legit" stage show.
The show opened with their "favorite fluffer," a Latina comedienne named Debi
Gutierrez, who was very, very funny. She warmed up the audience for half an hour and then
the lights came up so people could go get more popcorn before the main event.
And then there they were: Simon and Daniel. Standing there in their velvet capes and
not much else. I'm sure when they were young lads their mothers told them it was wrong to
play with themselves. Well...shows how much you know, Mom...
The boys did things with penises which you've never dreamed were possible (and which
would never enter your head to ever think of in the first place). The whole thing was
filmed by a guy in front of the stage so that it could be projected up close and much too
personal on the big screen for those in the back to see every detail.
The "art form," if it can be called that is the "Ancient Australian Art
of Genital Origami." Like I said--it gets lonely in the bush. So to speak.
Each bit they presented to the audience was called an "installation" and
there are some 40 or so of them of such wide variety that they included a boomerang
(they're Australian, after all), a hot dog, a wristwatch, a turtle, a frill neck lizard, a
didgeridoo, a circular fan and lots more.
One thing you can say for these guys--they are very...uh...limber.
It's all in good fun and, despite the "full monty," you get past the whole
nudity thing very early in the game. It becomes a "how in the world did they do
*that*" sort of thing, and a "doesn't that hurt"?
When it was all over the guys went out into the lobby to autograph copies of the book
of photographs which were sold at the souvenir stand. I hardly recognized them with their
pants on. I passed by one guy who had just spoken with Simon and was walking away saying
"I'll never wash this hand again...."
I dunno...if I'd just shaken hands with a guy who'd been playing with himself for an
hour, I think the first thing I'd do was to go wash my hands!