And then there was a week of really not sleeping very much. As Helen rightly remarked around thursday,
'This is getting pretty stockholm syndrome.'
We did have some very helpful visitors.
'Finn you're about the same size as James. GET IN.'
And somehow it all got done. We arranged for a car to take a star across town, and come the fateful night…..we should’ve seen it coming. Alex turned quite pale.
'Um, so, I didn't even consider that this might happen.'
'We probably should've thought of it.'
'It's a TRUCK! I thought it would fit!'
'What if we take the LED galaxy cloth out?'
'Doesn't help. It's a dimensions issue.'
'Well, what are we going to do about it?'
'There's one method of transport we know works, at least.'
'We're actually going to take this on the ferry?'
'And the bus.'
'Let's hope those ominous rain clouds don't start fruiting.'
'God I'm tired.'
So we dispatched Fred and the truck back to the city
At this point mum appeared again.
'You can fit ANYTHING in a hatchback!'
I knew this was one promise too far, but we took a tape measure out to the honda to check. This probably shows how loosely we were playing with sanity. Turns out you can fit a lot of things in a hatchback, but a two metre plus star costume made of pool toys, chicken wire, dacron and gold fabric isn’t one of them.
To the ferry. The sky looked more and more like squid ink the closer we got, and then we got a call from Fred. Fred is very french, so his end of the conversation, as quoted by Alex, went like this:
'uh, Alex, I am on ze kay road, and, ah, I just thought I would let you know, that it is…..it is pouring, over here? Very very wet.'
We picked up speed down the road until we were crossing the carpark at full sprint, star jiggling along with us, under fat drops. It was story-like, the way it poured the second we got inside. Forty minutes to wait until the next boat.
'What are we going to do if it's still pouring like this on the other side?'
'Let's worry about that then.'
'I'm really THIRSTY.'
But by another miracle by the time we had to walk it up Queen Street the rain had stopped. Some drunk australian tourists have a photo of themselves with it on a phone somewhere, and a really hammered guy walked straight out of a brothel, took a look at us ant-humping a star up a hill and started yelling
'STARLIGHT. STARBRIGHT. STARLIGHT. STARBRIGHT.'
We went to a bar after. Little bit of sorrow drowning, in that Dre
and the National had been in town for three days and none of us had been able to go to the shows because we were too covered in paste and paint. The lengths we go to. Honestly. This rock star business, its not the glamourous life you dream of when you sign on.
Back to the garage for one more night before shoot proper.
'OH GOD THE MOONSHINE BOTTLE. I HAVE TO MAKE THE MOONSHINE BOTTLE. WHY ARE SATURNS RINGS STILL SO DROOPY.'
It ended at 2am with my new job offering to give me saturday off so I could go watch the magic happen (thanks new job) and a three hour nap before the serious work of the entire thing started. Which I think I’ll tell about tomorrow. Saw the finished product last night though. I like it.
3:26 am • 28 January 2011