Tour Whore, September 16, 2012

Hardcore
by Cameryn Moore

Hardcore Fringer. Any artist who has more than one Fringe city under their belt falls into this category, in my mind.

It means that you have been in at least one city where you don’t know anybody, where you are sleeping in a stranger’s house. It means that you have had to take special steps to unplug yourself from normal life, asked for time off from work, possibly had issues with cell phone access, been apart from your lover for at least two weeks or more, and you have modified your life seriously in many other ways—expectations, planning, supplies, wardrobe—to accommodate your Fringe tour.

I am not saying that companies or artists performing only in their hometown are not having an awesome and legitimately challenging Fringe. I’ve never had that experience, though. I find it much easier to get along with other artists who live or have lived through that same rootlessness, for however long; they have had that same experience of being out there alone and not alone at the same time. I can bond better with them, because we have many of the same experiences. We are Hardcore Fringing.

What else goes along with that? I asked my cohort of touring Fringe artists for their thoughts (credit given where appropriate). But you know, a lot of these came up on their own, in my tour-fevered brain…

You know you’re Hardcore Fringing when:

• You have to check the color of your pee to know whether you’re properly hydrated—as they say at Burning Man, PISS CLEAR!--because you have so much going on that you just aren’t keeping track of how often you’re drinking. Water, not beer. Beer doesn’t count for this.
• In one summer, you gain 100 - 200 new followers on Twitter, due to Fringe tweets. (Elizabeth Blue)
• When someone asks you “how was your show?” and you have to clarify whether they meant artistically or financially.
• When you ask for your receipt at the coffee shop, for just a coffee. Hey, that shit adds up.
• You have flyered one or more of the following: a bank teller, a grocery store clerk, a barista, a bartender, a server, a tow-truck driver, an on-duty police officer, a parking officer.
• You stop and silently ask yourself, "What city am I in right now?" (Kurt Fitzpatrick)
• You walk onto the Fringe campus at around 2 or 3pm and the first 10 people you meet, you greet with a "good morning!" IT IS MORNING, YOU FUCKERS.
• When you have to make a major life decision mid-tour and the first thing you think is “I can make a play about this”. (Benjamin Wert)
• The first few line-ups of any given Fringe you have to double-check your patter to make sure that you are pitching the right show (because you have more than one in rep).
• Within three days of arriving at a Fringe, you can give detailed, accurate directions to the following resources, from anywhere on the Fringe campus: your venue, publicly accessible restrooms; the box office; free wi-fi; sources of drinkable water; the beer tent (if applicable); the food trucks; the cheapest beer; decent coffee; the photocopy shop with cheapest copy prices
• In one summer, you lose 100 - 200 followers on Twitter, due to Fringe tweets. (Elizabeth Blue)
• When you search the name of your show on FB to get to the event listing, and three events pop up, one each for the next three Fringe cities. But you forgot to put city names in the titles. Fuck. Better fix that.
• “Going home early” means leaving the Fringe club or beer tent or King’s Head or Steel Wheel any time before 2am.
• “Clean clothes” mean “clothes you didn’t wear yesterday”. (Jeff Leard)
• You have put your stage makeup on in two or more of the following places: a Starbucks; the beer tent; a picnic table; the bathroom of a bar; the bar itself; the bus stop.
• You interpret any other artist’s greeting to you at the first encounter of the day on Fringe campus –“what are you up to?” “how you doing?”, etc.—to mean “what lines are you here to flyer?” (The fact that that is in fact an accurate interpretation 95% of the time just means that they, too, are Hardcore Fringing.)

camerynmoore.com