The Sunday Morning “Nobody-Asked-Me-To, But-Here-I-Go-Anyway” Concert Review – Dame Edna.

(or, Why I Will Never Be A Professional Concert Reviewer…)

There are plenty of shows to see here in San Francisco. During our many tours of the city, we learned that most shows debut here, before they ultimately end up on Broadway. There’s a run of Grease playing right now, with Taylor Hicks from American Idol, plus Wicked, one of the big Broadway hits in recent years.

Seeing as how we were in San Francisco, we thought “when In Rome” - why not see Dame Edna, arguably the most famous cross-dressing performer in the world? First, we both enjoy her/his comedy, and the chance to see an icon in the historic Post Street Theatre just sweetened the pot.

We did wonder if a full show might be a bit much, but those concerns were quickly thrown out the metaphorical window – Barry Humphries, aka Dame Edna started the show with a mockumentary video, alleging a dark side of the Dame. When he/she arrived on stage, it was hilarious from the get-go – plenty of planned routines, but loads of interaction with the audience as well, allowing Edna to berate and heckle her own audience. All good-naturedly, but funny as hell.

She put on a lengthy show as well, over two hours with a brief intermission. Too many highlights to list, but a second-half “pilot” talk show with “real people” from the audience was quite the vehicle for Edna’s humour, as well as an audience participation segment with fresh gladiolas that had been tossed into the audience. Really, you had to be there. We’re glad we were…

San Francisco 08 – Day Five

Our day started with breakfast at the retro-diner Johnny Rockets. Quite a view of the bay and Alcatraz, whilst we digested our eggs and toast. Made me wonder if the inmates had as good a view of Johnny Rockets.

From brekkie, we set off for Pier 39, the third-most popular destination in America after Disneyland and Disney World. We were looking for the resident sea lions, and it didn’t take long for us to both hear them, and then see them. Lazy buggers, all they do is lounge on the pier. Not a one of them was juggling a ball on his nose, or clapping – just as sedentary as couch pillows. We still took a few pictures though, just to say we saw them.

We wandered up from Pier 39 to Boudin Bakery, to watch them make fresh sourdough bread. In the shape of alligators, crabs, and even a Canadian Maple Leaf – probably because they had heard we were in town. That was awfully nice of them.

From the bakery, we finally took a ride on one of the famed cable cars, a mode of transportation as efficient as Fred Flintstone’s jalopy. It’s something you have to do when you’re in San Francisco, but between being jammed in like sardines, and moving as slow as an oak tree migrating to Bemidji - I won't rush to do so again. Happily, we did make it in time for our show (reviewed above, in case you’ve already forgotten).

We ended the day by having dinner at Fisherman’s Pizza, a concept that in my many years of sport fishing I had never once considered trying to land – a mushroom pizza. You learn something new every day…

On a side note, the bonk I took to my forehead early on in this vacation left three distinct marks. A dash, and two dots. I wondered what that might mean in morse code, and was flabbergasted to learn that dash dot dot stands for “D”, as in Delta Echo Charlie. I somehow managed to temporarily tattoo my own initial on my forehead.

This folks, is my life. Please send your sympathies to Mrs. That Dan Guy.

Chow(der) for now(der)!!