THE FRINGES OF EXISTENCE (PART TWO)

In the late 1970’s I volunteered clean-up at this structurally sound but cosmetically depleted “LITTLE THEATRE” on Charing Cross Road in the West End of London. Managed (possibly owned?) by a woman whose name I forget but who has reincarnated herself at various points in my subsequent fringe theatrical careerings*… It doubled as rehearsal space for “professionals” and proffered affordable venue for anybody and everyone else who sought to explore their raw theatrical / artistic potential. Including a couple of guys who dubbed themselves “BALLOON AND BANANA”. Part clowns, part musicians, part comedians, part dramatis-personae, more parts than seemed to justify their whole being any more than a rag-tag hodge-podge of un-apologetical willingness to exhibit themselves. With their obligingly bosomy-bodiced show-girl high-heeled fish-netted “assistant” Dot, who would un-speakingly deliver on a push-cart appropriate props at apparently appropriate times, offering visual relief to their often incoherent banterings and dubious musicality. BANANA was the somewhat overweight bearded unruffled put-upon stooge who specialized on piano and in philosophical shrugs. BALLOON was the angry, bullying lead who specialized on the trumpet and in bitter diatribes about not being fully appreciated as a talent worthy of being reckoned with and duly rewarded. And this was their act.

They never once made me laugh or feel like anything was going on that wasn’t really going on. And I had no idea what was really going on. They seemed to be making it up as they went along. In hindsight I wish I’d caught their act again, if only to convince myself it might really be an act. They did become legends in my own lifetime. And inspired me to write a one-act a few years later, which I co-produced at a couple of “fringe” venues, without seeking any copyright permission, I titled it “BALLOON AND BANANA”. Fortunately I never heard from their lawyers. Eventually I transposed it into a solo performance, now available on audio on YouTube : “MAN IN PAJAMAS VISIBLY DYING”. So I owe them a debt of gratitude, and hope they had equally fulfilling “careers” just making it up as they went along, at least in the spotlight of their own being alive at the time and willingness to make a theatrical exhibition of themselves no matter the sparsity of an appreciative audience…..

** viz. Edith O’Hara at 13th. Street Repertory in Greenwich Village, Crystal Field at “Theater For the New City: on the lower East Side and Amy Seham at “Performance Studio” in New Haven, Ct.