the Way of the Showman

7 - the Showbiz Devil

July 21, 2020 Captain Frodo Season 1 Episode 7
the Way of the Showman
7 - the Showbiz Devil
Show Notes Transcript

The circus, the cycles of life and of the year all come together in todays episode. The very first of my Carnival Cinema blog posts influenced the very first Way of the Showman podcast, which again is one big swirling mirror of the tumultuous relocations in my own life. The times they are a' changing and we showfolk are still struggling to find our feet in this new liquid reality. This is a show about beginnings and ends and how it is hard to tell them apart sometimes. Is this the end? or is it a glorious new beginning? A great leveller.

show notes: (not so many today)
I talk about
my dear friend Søren Østergaard from Zirkus Nemo

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The Showbiz Devil

When I became a Showman I clicked “I agree” without reading the terms and conditions. I was too young to know that one must always, always read all the terms and conditions. I said yes to doing shows as my life and my living. Every choice has consequences. You say A, not realising B and C are part of that decision.


Showmen with novelty acts travel. To stay novel we move on at the end of a season. If the novelty is gone, we are but acts. We are not big enough attractions for Crowds to go out of their way to come to us. We must go where Crowds are. Such is the Way of the Showman.


I am now forty two years old and so far down the Way I doubt I’ll ever stray. I am a showman, but I am also a husband and a father. Almost six years ago, after an emergency caesarean, I sat alone with a tiny, 2.3 kg girl, for the first two hours of her life outside of my wife. I had been waiting for her for so long. Then she decided to come early. I was in the middle of directing my friend Tom Flanagan in his Kaput show when she announced her imminent arrival. The love that grew between us under that blue hospital blanket, as I held my new born baby against my bare chest was the most powerful bond I have ever experienced. A love that comes with great responsibility.


I am on the road on a different continent than my family. That happens a lot. I just Skyped with my daughter and she said she missed me SO much. Behind her I heard people jumping in the pool. Good friends whom with we both share history. She loves swimming. I have taken her swimming since she was three months old. Water fun is something we have shared on four different continents and more countries than I can be bothered trying to mention. Despite the pool and the friends behind her, I hear a particular sadness in her voice. A sadness I have been hearing too often over the last year.


Up until one year ago the paramount concern for our family was being together. For all gigs I said yes to we would factor in that all three of us would travel. Then something changed. My daughter got older. We wanted to put down roots. Let the little one go to a kindergarten and then school. Let her develop sustained relationships wiht groups of friends. We bought a house. I took her to kindergarten. As I dropped her off I could feel how normal this was for everyone else. Whilst for us it was strange and new, and very, very nice. Our house is in the Byron Shire. Frodo in the Shire. It was almost too sweet. I worked so hard on that house everyday from I woke until I went to sleep in our own bedroom in our own house. The clown made plans and the world laughed.


Last night I went to sleep with a sore throat, blocked nose and a raging jet lag, which is not as fun as it sounds. Then I and woke five hours later finding a Whatsapp message saying my daughter had been crying for me since six am. My wife only managed to stop the crying by playing a video recording of me reading “The Incredible Story of the Giant Pear.” I knew my daughter’s sadness, because I felt it too. Like an icy hand around my heart. This cant go on, I thought. There has to be another Way.

In the pre dawn dark of my hotel room my tears mixed with snot and made my moustache droop. I turned on the kettle and realised I only had decaffeinated sachets of coffee left. With the blue light from the little kettle illuminating the dark I contemplated Goethe’s Faust who made a deal with the Devil, whilst scrolling through the “Terms and Agreements” of my own deal with the Showbiz Devil.

Studying the legalese of the contractual obligations I found a loophole; the devils playground. The place the Showbiz Devil forgot in his Terms and Agreements. A place where the fun never ends. Where slot machines are plentiful and shows have more glitz and glamour than any international arts festival. Sin city. Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. 

The Las Vegas Strip is like an enormous cruise ship that’s stranded in the desert. Its got all you can eat buffets, ferris wheels, pirate ships, and Circus. Lots of it. This desert ship wreck is so big and so amazing people come from all over the world to see it. Crowds fly in from every corner of the globe. Its a place where Crowds come and go and novelty acts stay. 

In the dark I say yes to the invitation in my inbox. Vegas a place along the Way to settle down. Where my girl can go to school. Where we can live in a house, maybe not as nice as our own, but where I can put my daughter to bed and then jump in the car and drive fifteen minutes to the strip. The Shipwrecked cruise ship. Where I, Captain Frodo, can be Captain of the greatest and most influential ship of all time: the Showmanship and be a present dad and husband.

Vegas here we come.


See you all along the Way.


Captain Frodo