17 Things I Learned in 17 Shows at This Year's Fringe

1. Teachers do a lot more than run through the pages of a textbook. (Pardon My French!)

2. Joe Mauer is very forgiving. (Two Truths and a Lie)

3. Making a deal with the Devil will leave you smelling of rotten eggs. (The Damned Audition)

4. Ghosts are cool. (Rachel Teagle Believes in Ghosts)

5. Jack Chick is an underrated comic genius, even if he probably doesn't realize it. (The Jack Chick Plays)

6. Native Americans really are portrayed exactly like the mentally challenged. (Sad Carousel)

7. See You Next Tuesday is not a good last thing to say to somebody. (See You Next Tuesday)

8. Dancers are cool. (O(h))

9. Ikea is the new cruising spot. (Naked Yoga and Other Gay Love Stories)

10. Henry IV is the first Star Wars prequel. (Kill Will)

11. Taking your clothes off can be good for you. (Kathy Jensen is Pretty)

12. Cell phones are annoying. (That Sara Aziz!)

13. Whether you realize it or not, the world will keep moving forward in your absence, and you will never return to a place and time you've left behind. Also, chicken cacciatore is not always easy to come by. (Amaretti Angels)

14. Shel Silverstein is a dirty motherfucker. (An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein)

15. Bowties are cool. Actually this one was from Doctor Who, but one of the 17 shows I saw had nothing to say about anything and I had to come up with something.

16. You may only get one chance to make the leap... don't miss it. (Standing Long Jump)

17. The glam rock, heavy mascara shredded everything look is coming back, or at least it should. (Garage Band)

Rufus Gets His Hair Cut (one show only)*

After letting my frighteningly agitated and sometimes violent friend Dewdrop cut my hair, I thought there should be a way to capture that drama, and there are certainly worse things being performed out there. So before next year I'll have to grow my hair back and my mountain man beard, and then at show time we'll put a few things in place: me, Dewdrop, a pair of scissors, a pair of clippers, a chair, a hand mirror, a roll of gauze, and a giant drop cloth.

Through the process of ever sillier haircuts and abstract chunks shaved out of my beard, and her attempts to sell me on her artistic vision mixed with threats to stab me with a pair of scissors, and my attempts to escape before things get worse will test our friendship and our will, as we each struggle to define our role and decide with what standard of grooming we will live or die. One performance only, since I will obviously have to grow my hair and beard back, and allow the probably quite painful scars to fade.

It might be terrible, but I guarantee a few good reviews for offering the audience a something real, which can't be reset and replicated for the evening show, which is one of the promises of live theater: the anxiety and the haircut will both be real. Now I just need a $50,000 grant to develop my script, and to finance all the shampoo and conditioner I'll need to use all year to prepare my mane.

(*-Kathy Jensen is Pretty and Rachel Teagle Believes in Ghosts have definitely sold me on the marketing value of putting my name up front. Also on the value of offering weird southern groceries as a promotion, but that's another story.)