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Dr. Penguin and The Local Boy
ARTICLES, SPEECHES AND OTHER READING
CAVEMAN'S MEDIA
DR. PENGUIN AND THE LOCAL BOY
John "Caveman" Gray
I first met Dr. Penguin in Vietnam's Ha Long
Bay. As the TV crew walked down the pier there was little doubt who he was -
top hat, big red star Vietnam shirt, penguin waddle, and wide enough not to
be missed.
A smile and a handshake make instant friends with this Heart of Gold. We had
a great time, shot a nice tidal caving show for Star-TV and hooked up again
in Bangkok a couple of weeks later. The Penguin wanted me to see his Magic
Circus, as Penguin put it, "a loose assembly of children's magicians, street
performers, vaudeville holdovers and outright lunatics - that's me. The
other guys are pretty stable."
Penguin, a Moroccan of Southern California background, assembled his Magic
Circus in Bangkok for a Children's fair sponsored by SAS and the Rembrandt
Hotel. The Funny Ones flew in from all over the World on Penguin's promise
to show then Thailand, including Phuket. I came up with a fundraising idea
for one of my favorite charities, Phuket Child Watch. The Magic Circus'
Southern Thai Swing was born.
It was the perfect quid pro quo. With spontaneous lead-time to promo the
show, Child Watch needed a week-long break before their fundraiser (without
hotel bills), Penguin needed a trip, and SeaCanoe needed guinea pigs to test
the Local Boy, a travel concept as bizarre as any Magic Circus. Penguin's
strange assortment made convenient models for photos, and the
"personalities" were naturals for an eventual TV show.
We devised a plan that took the ten Clowns and all their gear to Hat Yai by
train, where we would run the Local Boy in reverse, finishing in Phuket a
day before the Child Watch benefit. I took the idea home to Phuket.
"Ten people on the first trip, and in reverse?" questioned my Local Boy
project manager. "And what is a Magic Circus anyway, and how much gear does
a Circus carry?"
I explained that a large group run in reverse would certainly expose any
mistakes, and we needed to finish in Phuket for the show's continuity. There
wouldn't be too much gear (except for the electric piano) because the Circus
used Magic to pack everything small. Best of all, the trip was free, so the
guinea pigs couldn't complain.
"You still didn't explain the Magic Circus."
We hooked up in Hat Yai, Penguin's Circus arriving on the train, my team
driving from Phuket in Don's Thai traditional wooden "Songtail" bus and me
flying in straight off another trip. . A strange-looking group in a strange
looking machine, our conglomeration of craziness brought the old "60's Magic
Bus concept into South Thailand for the New Millenium with more "penache'
than any group since Ken Kesey's "Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test".
Somehow, gear, staff and Circus all squeezed into the Songtail, where we
were mystified with Magic tricks and Magic personalities. My guides soon
discovered the definition of a Magic Circus, and immediately understood why
I couldn't describe one. Penguin may claim to focus on kids' comedy and
magic, but people of five generations laughed everywhere we went. Nobody was
cut in half and there were no chain saw jugglers, but the multi-angled
sleight-of-hand was timeless.
Dr. Penguin's assistant is Mario the Almost Magnificent, a former
advertising exec from Perth Australia. Mario is neither Italian nor almost.
Hundreds of tricks materialize in his hands, from cards to small balls and
flying cockroaches. Mario also knows the Magic required to manage a pack of
ten children's clowns - perhaps a greater accomplishment than his tricks.
Francisco, Spain's answer to Humphrey Bogart, is Mario's sidekick. Francisco
had some talents - we just never found them between his 1,000 faces. Backing
up Francisco was Mario's son Adam, a refugee from some weird Ozzie punk
band.
Speaking of punk bands, "Good Night" Irene and Bernie added the sounds, with
Irene bursting into opera at every rural intersection. When he wasn't
paddling, Bernie was composing on his hand-held electronic whatever. I've
worked with many big name musicians, but I've never met anybody as consumed
with music as these two Swedes.
Ian the Englishman is a Great Spirit, but no outdoorsman. A Muppets refugee,
this versatile puppeteer broke into finger-generated drama in the strangest
places - and was always chasing some strange talking bird. If Ian's
spontaneous puppetry didn't stop an entire village, Kenny the Bulgarian
clown took up the slack with his unending balloon sculpture selection
including every animal on the Ark - and more. Kenny is clown like Bernie is
music.
Om the videographer had previous experience with this group. Penguin trained
Om well. We never knew when a camera might be sticking from our ear, always
with a mischievous smile. Om told us in quiet Thai that his package included
a soundman, but except for a few glimpses, we never found the phantom.
The chemistry was great - the Magic Circus blows minds until they ooze out
the ear, a perfect fit with the my mentality. The guides immediately caught
the spirit and led the group like ringmasters; one took notes for his
daughter while Nick shared his own tricks with the Pros.
We shared more than Magic. Local Food is a Local Boy theme. After settling
into a lakeside bungalow at Thale Ban National Park, we descended upon our
favorite Satun local market for dinner. As we disembarked the songtail and
passed by the food stalls, it was immediately obvious these folks don't see
many Farang - at least in their market. As we passed each stall, everything
stopped but us - forks frozen in time, mouths wide open.
Mario walked up to a kid staring over his soup, wiggled his fingers, and
pulled a rubber ball from the kid's ear. Instant laughter was everywhere,
and the food was great. That night we discovered roti with curry, Southern
Thai style, and ate it straight for the next three days.I lied - in between
we did have some of Thailand's freshest seafood.
Seven Turn Cave, normally the climax, started the adventure portion of this
back-assward trip. It was mid-October, and Satun's mountains were drenched
with monsoon rains.
A big question was how low season rains affected the Local Boy, and we
wanted to find out. The Songtail slipped up a dirt road to the Peninsula's
spine, and we found Ali's cave in the thickest jungle I've seen in Thailand.
Fortunately, in eons past a huge rock fell across the cave's upstream
entrance, blocking the water so we could paddle upstream against the
current. A kilometer long and fifty meters high, the majestic cave quiets
even a Magic Circus. Awed by Nature, none of us clowned around inside the
cave.
After exiting the cave, the current was strong but not fierce. We took a fun
and easy 10K shot downstream to the songtail rendezvous. Paddling within the
thick pristine jungle wilderness inspired Irene to song, and while hitting a
high note, she capsized along with Bernie. We could hear her soprano
underwater. Mario and Francisco rocked their boat in a failed attempt at
swimming, and got so frustrated that I pushed them over out of pity. The
river experience was filled with fun, awe, appreciation and inspiration, and
the songtail appeared all too soon. The Local Boy is great in rain.
The next few days were brilliant - more markets and spontaneous magic,
mangroves, Hot Springs, limestone and birds - real specimens and Ian's
endangered specie.
In the old seacoast village of Chao Mai we found a local beach house. The
family is poor, but owns an idyllic beach, and wanted to learn how to make a
bungalow resort. We supported these good folks and enjoyed the best beach
between Krabi and Malaysia. The all-wood bungalows are rustic and clean and
the owner is a fisherman - order your dinner in the morning, and he catches
it in the afternoon. Best of all, these villagers feel comfortable. Many
locals wandered by, and we made plenty of new friends that afternoon.
A hard-fought after-school soccer game unfolded in the flat wet sand.
Penguin asked if we could drive the songtail onto the hard sand, and I
didn't see why not. "Then let's build a stage and invite the village to
tonight's special Magic Circus performance, right on the beach," said the
Penguin. "We can perform by the lights of the songtail."
The word traveled like wildfire, and at dusk, the "Theater on the Beach" was
packed, giving the kids of Chao Mai a night they will never forget. Even
Magic clowns had difficulty keeping a straight face because the kids loved
the show so much. Excited squeals and waves of laughter swept across the
sands of South Thailand until everybody was sore with laughter at the
encore. With no sense of "encore", the kids hung around for another hour
playing with balloon animals and magic tricks
"I hope they don't think all Farang are like us," said a deadpan Mario,
pulling a scarf from his nose.
After more hongs, mangroves, markets, tents, monkeys and magic, we found
ourselves in Krabi's boardwalk night market, hawking sleight-of-hand for
pizza and Thai desserts. Thai and tourist alike thought they were in Candid
Camera, a scene so crazy I flew off to Bangkok the next morning for a
different kind of work.
The Circus headed for Ao Luk's caves, hongs, petroglyphs and mangroves. They
ended up at our Koh Yao Noi camp, where they gave another magic show for the
kid's of that island with similar results.
But the most rewarding show of all was the Child Watch fundraiser. I
returned from Bangkok to witness The Songkla University-Phuket Campus
Theater packed to the rafters. Kids marveled, screamed and squealed... and
the show after the show went on forever. (Well, actually 90 minutes.) Kids
overran the stage, transfixed with Kenny, Adam and Ian's balloons,
Francisco's impersonations, Penguin's Magic Balls, Mario card tricks and
Irene's non-stop soprano.
Behind this Fellini movie Bernie sat high on-stage, pounding those
electronic ivories with the perfect "Fill' to this surreal scene. Audience
and entertainers all left exhausted, and Phuket Child Watch was richer in
more ways than one.
Thanks you, Penguin and assorted crazies. Stay young forever. |
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