Postcard from the Fringe

... Back in 1997, Robb and I were living in Baltimore, and running a small theater company with our friends. Things were going well, we were doing exciting work, and we decided to take one of our productions to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival . We raised (what was for us) a lot of money. We came up with ingenious ways to scale down our show so that we could ship it to Scotland. We prepared to install, perform and strike our show every single night. We rented a flat in Edinburgh. We bought travelers' checks to pay the rent on our performance space and flat. We hired a promoter. Then the big day arrived. Everyone who was going to Scotland headed off to the airport. And things started to go wrong. Our travelers' checks were left in our office. Our scenery, which we had shipped ahead, got stuck at the docks, because of a customs snarl-up. Our baggage was broken into by the airline's baggage handlers, and our tools were stolen. But the worst and scariest part of