Children’s performers get a bad rap.
I know, I used to perform shows in schools for kids.
At best?
We’re seen as frivolous fops who add little value.
At worst?
Some dudes would joke that I was a pedophile.
Unkind?
You betcha.
In order to perform and work as an artist in schools I had to go through the same process that I did to be hockey coach. I had to get a criminal records check, vulnerable sector check AND my name would have to be checked against the national child abuse registry.
All of these checks proved that I had not yet been a criminal, hurt vulnerable people or had been a child abuser…
Yet.
No dear reader this is not the kind of confession one would expect from a Catholic Priest in some remote village filled with poor orphan boys. I’m not Jimmy the Diddler.
I’m a fool. I spent my years in schools always on my sorta best behaviour.
I mean I was never mean or abusive to kids.
Sure, I sat on the laps of some teachers and perhaps I may have squirted others with a water bottle but 1: they weren’t paying attention to me and thus setting a poor example for how to behave in the theatre and 2: it was all part of the act.
Despite this there have been a couple of occasions where, despite my best efforts, my trollishness got the better of me and I let my tongue slip unawares.
Again dear reader, this wasn’t a big deal and the memory still haunts me.
I did a show at a school - more of the normal shit, get parked, unload, meet an annoying school ‘office manager’ who thought she was Napoleon - side note dear reader, why is it that so many school receptionist office managers are short, squat, ladies with poorly shaved mustaches and a sense that maybe invading Russia could work - perhaps not for others, but with such unwavering faith in their own righteous purition, who knows what could happen.
Anyway.
Everything went swimmingly. The principal and I hit it off. I had convinced her to perhaps book me in again. Her reply was professional: let’s just see how you do now before we go putting the cart in front of the horse.
The show was brilliant. I was brilliant!
They were laughing. They were crying. They were begging for moar!
This more of me they wanted?
Well, I was more than happy to provide.
I did this by taking questions from the audience.
Now a school show Q+A is about 5% information and 95% playful entertaining. It’s a great place to let lose while being all hopped up on goofballs and the glow that comes from making peple laugh.
They wanted moar?
I wanted MOAR!
So without knowing it, my little troll, that stand up comic prick within me was lurking just nearby.
Now dear reader, I’ll have you know the key to a good school show Q+A is to make sure the children stay seated.
You wouldn’t want them running around licking the electrical plugs or chewing the wires in the gym. As a seasoned pro, I knew my job:
I’ll only take questions from people sitting flat on the floor, Flat on your hind quarters.
Hind quarters?
One kid didn’t know what that meant. He piped up:
Where are my hind quarters?
Before the words left my lips thinking didn’t really happen.
It was more of a game at that time - a game of free association - quarters? Dollars? Dimes? Right. Got it. My response was loud and clear for the WHOLE school to hear:
Where are your hind quarters? Right next to your nickels.
Time froze. The place was so quiet you could hear an ant fart.
Then?
Then the eruption of laughter.
The roar shook planes at Stanfield Airport thirty miles away.
My host?
The principal?
She was glowing red like the navigation beacons you’d find just off the coast.
And sour?
Yeah she was sour and biting her lip so hard it was bleeding.
They thought I was talking about the kids balls.
Instantly I went from saintly playful goofy uncle to pedophile in their minds.
Just from a slip of a tongue.
So I learned something that day.
A troll can’t trust his tongue.
Not in the principals office.
Not on a date
And certainly not in a room full of bonkers kids just dyin’ to hear a dirty joke.