Ten More Sleeps!

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Save the date and make a date for the next Teen Angst Night!

Saturday, March 11, 2017
Fox Cabaret, 2321 Main Street, Vancouver, BC
8-10 PM
$10 in advance, $15 at the door

Facebook event
Reader signup – Only looking for men now. Any brave dudes out there?

Teen Angst Night is a comedic reading series I have produced since 2000.

Readers at this verbatim storytelling night can share anything (poetry, songs, letters, journals, diaries, essays, stories, plays, lists, etc) so long as it follows these rules:

1- The work must be your own.
2- You must have written it between the ages of 10-19.
3- You cannot be proud of the work you share; it’s best if you’re super embarrassed.

Sorry actual teenagers, this event is in a 19+ venue.

REVIEWS

“But is it real comedy? It most certainly is. People love to laugh and there are many routes to arrive at that destination. Is it traditional? It most certainly is not. It’s not what the average person envisions when they think of comedy. But regular shows would kill for these kinds of laughs.” Georgia Straight

“Teen Angst Night is a good time” CFOX Radio

“It’s high time the rhyme-crazy juveniles of the world are celebrated as the poetic prodigies we truly were.” Nylon Magazine

“I like it when the definition of “theatre” gets stretched. That’s what Sara Bynoe’s doing.” … “I gut laughed the whole evening. So did the rest of the audience. It was a full house. It always is. – TJ Dawe in the Charlebois Post

Thank Goodness We’re No Longer Teenagers!

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Canadian Thanksgiving is just around the corner.

Meet me and some fantastic readers at the Fox Cabaret on Saturday, October 8 at 8 PM to celebrate our ridiculous youth.

Let me be the excuse you need to avoid your family for an evening. Or better yet, bring your folks and show them that you weren’t really all that bad, at least not compared to some of us.

What you’ve never been to a show and you don’t know what happens? OMG, it’s delightful! Brave people get up on stage and read parts of their old teenage diaries and notebooks verbatim for your entertainment. You’ll laugh with them, at them, and at yourself.

Tickets are on sale on Eventbrite $10 in advance or $15 at the door.

“But is it real comedy? It most certainly is. People love to laugh and there are many routes to arrive at that destination. Is it traditional? It most certainly is not. It’s not what the average person envisions when they think of comedy. But regular shows would kill for these kinds of laughs.” Georgia Straight

“Teen Angst Night is a good time” CFOX Radio

“It’s high time the rhyme-crazy juveniles of the world are celebrated as the poetic prodigies we truly were.” Nylon Magazine

“I like it when the definition of “theatre” gets stretched. That’s what Sara Bynoe’s doing.” … “I gut laughed the whole evening. So did the rest of the audience. It was a full house. It always is. – TJ Dawe in the Charlebois Post

Public Service Story

Sure this couple looks adorable in their matching outfits as they cycle around Bruge, but they should be wearing helmets if they want to be able to enjoy fruit beer and chocolate in their years to come.

Saturday night I was biking with my friend Michael on East 10th Avenue when our quiet night took a turn. We’d been biking past a guy and his girlfriend on our way to East Van; the girl was pedaling slowly having difficulty with a hill. When the hill switched to a down slope the guy suddenly whizzed past us. His bike swerved, I think to avoid a manhole on the newly repaved road. Then his bike twisted, fell and he skid along the road into a parked car. He was not wearing a helmet.

As I got off my bike I watched him. His body lay still. There was a moment when I thought he was dead or knocked unconscious. I held my breath. Then he moaned in pain. His legs were tangled in his bike and his head was turned to the side. When his girlfriend reached him we saw that he was bleeding from his head and nose.

Moments earlier I was telling Michael that I am nervous on hills now because I flipped over my handle bars three years ago. I still have the sense memory of that accident and cannot ride down that road anymore. Back then I was not wearing my helmet. I was very lucky. I landed on my face, only scrapping my chin and lip. Since that day I always, always wear a helmet.

When we saw the bleeding Michael called 9-1-1. The next five minutes were full of questions and worry. Home-owners came out to see what was going on. Someone grabbed a towel to apply pressure to the still bleeding wounds. The man who owned the car that got smashed into checked for damage while the cyclist lay on the ground waiting for help.

“People go down this hill too fast!” the car owner complained and mumbled about calling the city about putting speed bumps in.

When the fire-truck arrived we stood to the side as our worst fears were realized.

They asked him simple questions.

“What’s your name?” That he knew.

“How old are you?” He couldn’t decide if he was 21 or 22.

“What month is it?” He did not know. He also didn’t know what year it was.

We stayed until he was taken away in a stretcher, wearing a neck brace. I don’t know how he is doing now and I have no way of knowing.

That night Michael and I rode slowly knowing that we had nowhere to be and that fun and speed was not worth our health or our lives.

Because of my accident three years ago I now exercise extreme caution when biking. I learned my lesson the hard way. Please learn from me and this stranger; wear your helmet. It can’t prevent all injuries but it’s better than what happens when you don’t.

Observations in VanCity

What I Learned from Hanging Out on Commercial Drive this Weekend

Photo I took on Northcote Rd in South London of a tattoo I thought was fugly. Eyes on your calf? Why?!

I love people watching. This weekend and friend and I gawked on Commercial Drive; a street in East Vancouver that’s the epicenter of drumming circles, poetry slams and devil sticking in the city. Well, that’s not entirely true, over the years in between Italian specialty markets it’s been gentrified by sport bars and coffee shops filled with macbooks.

As we sipped our americanos watching everyone and their dog wearing a bandanna walk past we noticed that 90% of ‘young’ pedestrians had tattoos. I wondered: has the city had enacted a law stating that all people under the age of 35 within a 5-block radius of The Drive must permanently brand their skin with a symbol that epitomizes who they are? A snake. A forest scene. A Looney Tunes character.

It should be noted that I do not have a tattoo. There are many reasons for that: they’re expensive, I don’t like being repeatedly jabbed with needles and I’ve never found an image I wanted on my body for all time. I consider myself lucky; I strongly considered getting a crown tattoo on my lower back when I was 22. Yeah. That’s what happens when you know your name means princess… and you’re a bar star.

Another reason I’m thankful for not getting that tattoo is that the me of today would be mortified to have a tramp stamp. I’ve come to the conclusion that whatever I like today I probably wont like ten years later; that’s how growing up as worked thus far. I used to dye my hair every three weeks (pink, orange, platinum blonde). I used to wear army boots with dresses. I used to date a guy who rode a recumbent bike. I would never do any of those things again, so what’s the point of spending $200 on something that I can’t grow out, give away to goodwill or delete from my facebook friends?

Of course, many of my dearest friends have tattoos and I don’t judge them like I did all those fauzhemians on Commercial Drive this weekend. I understand what their tattoos mean and where they came from, but when I see a youngish girl walking down the road with a jack-o-lantern tattooed in blue ink just above her knee I cringe. Or shudder – like I did when I saw a girl with a large tiger face on the top of her thigh! What the hell does that mean? What does a knee/thigh tattoo say about you?  That you’ve run out of space on your arms? Or is the knee/ thigh tattoo the fashionable body part of today, like how barbed-wire armbands were in the late 80s, celtic knots were in the 90s and sleeves have been since 2004?

However one thing I do enjoy about these tattoo trends is that they help to identify what generation a person is from and how old they probably were when they got it. Guy with a Tasmanian Devil on his shoulder blade- he was 18 in 1992.

Based on our informal survey this weekend my friend and I concluded that tattoos are the new way of conforming. Years ago getting one was a way to stand out from the crowd. Today having clean skin makes you different, a freak even. Which is good, because I’ve never been someone who likes fitting in.