Originally posted at One Second.
Well, the latest One Second installation happened last night, and I must say it went absolutely nothing like I had imagined!
The aim of the installation - like always - was to provoke One Second of new thought in people that will spring to the front of their minds when it comes time for them to make their One Second count. The method this time involved a steel hospital table and a body bag, and asking people whether they trusted their friends enough to let them zip them up in the body bag - for just One Second.
We arrived at a popular Surf Club shortly after 6pm and decided to bring the table through the back entrance so as not to scare children out with their families. People looked on with interest as we set up the table and the body bag in the bar area.
By 7pm the club slowly started to fill with people, and an invisible barrier began to form around the table. People were hesitant to go near the body bag. Most were intrigued, but kept their interest for quick glances from a safe distance away.
As 8pm came around - with a few drinks under their belts - people started coming forward and allowing their friends to zip them up in a body bag. There was a lot of nervous laughter and most people made their friends promise, over and over again, that they would unzip them. People were nervous and many spent more than just One Second deciding whether or not they would get in the bag.
By 9pm, an abundance of liquid courage saw a constant stream of people being zipped and unzipped in the body bag. There was much laughing and joking and many profanities were exclaimed as people experienced laying on a hard steel table and having a body bag zipped closed around them.
As the evening progressed, the experience appeared to become more novel than thought provoking. People started requesting to be zipped up together, some pretended to fall asleep inside the bag, others wanted to know if they could borrow it to play a prank on someone, and I started to doubt the effectiveness of the installation.
Then a little before 10pm, someone went too far - They zipped up their friend and would not let them out.
At first, the persons muffled protests and awkward movements from inside the bag made people laugh. This laughter, mixed with a large amount of alcohol, spurred on the person responsible for keeping his friend in the body bag, and he continued to hold the zip closed.
Then his friend started to panic.
People stopped laughing and began telling the man to let his friend out, but the man seemed oblivious to the turn his prank was taking.
With all eyes on the body bag, the man finally released his friend, who emerged pale and shaky.
Breathing heavily, the friend's terror was replaced by rage and he unleashed a scathing attack on his 'friend', which ended with, "You can't screw with people's lives like that - It's not f***ing funny!"
I couldn't have said it better myself.
Nobody wanted to get in the body bag after that. Suddenly, putting themselves in the hands of their friends - after their friends had had more than a few drinks - didn't seem so funny.
They didn't trust their friends with something as simple as unzipping a bag, and I can only hope they valued their lives as much when it came time to getting home.
Showing posts with label One Second. Show all posts
Showing posts with label One Second. Show all posts
One Second for Twitter
Thanks to the suggestion from Trish, One Second has joined the world of Twitter! It's quite new to me and I must admit, I don't think I've quite wrapped my head around it yet, but I'm told it is a fast growing form of social media and communication, and anything that gets people thinking - even for One Second - is a great thing as far as I'm concerned!
You can see the One Second Twitter profile here.
And the One Second blog here.
A big thank you to Trish for getting behind One Second and helping spread the thought wave!
You can see the One Second Twitter profile here.
And the One Second blog here.
A big thank you to Trish for getting behind One Second and helping spread the thought wave!
Cheers!
Last night (Sunday) I re-entered two worlds that I haven't been part of for quite a while, and I entered for the first time, a new world that is waaaaaaay outside of anything I ever thought I'd experience...
I went to a bar.
I ran a performance installation piece (no - I'm not really sure what 'performance installation piece' means either).
And I spoke to a bar full of total strangers about the last moments of Daddy Kewl's life.
To put that all together (partly for my benefit as I am still not sure I understand exactly what I was thinking or doing!) - last night I went into a bar where total strangers were eating and drinking, I cut the lights at 20 minute intervals, and during those black outs I told the story of Daddy Kewl's last day with us.
It started off as a bit of fun - the black outs had people curious and the beginning snippets of the story were light hearted and fun. Right before the last black out I handed out free beers to everyone. Naturally, this was very well received.
Then for the last time, the lights went out and I began speaking...
"One second... he said. He sounded distracted. Worse - He sounded serious. There was screeching. Then crunching. Crackling through the phone line. Then nothing. Oh no."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the bar. The lights came up slowly as I continued speaking - getting voicemail, putting the children in the car, driving, the rising panic, seeing the flashing lights, the crumpled metal, finally, seeing M and finishing with the words, "He is gone. He is dead."
Once I stopped speaking, I took a moment to compose myself, then the lights went down again and a spotlight came up on a small stage where I was now standing. I explained that the man who killed my husband had been drinking, but decided to get in the car anyway. He relised his favourite TV show was about to start, so he put his foot down. He was one block from home when he ran a stop sign and hit M's car.
M was killed instantly.
He did not get to see our twin daughters turn one.
He was not there for the birth of our youngest.
He will never be here for birthdays.
For Christmas.
To hear the "I love you"s.
See the smiles.
Give the cuddles.
He'll miss every second.
The other guy was physically unharmed.
But he did miss his TV show.
I went on to mention the free beer people were holding, and the split second it took them to decide whether they wanted it or not.
I asked them to hold the bottles up and look underneath.
To the people with a black dot under their bottles - I'm sorry - You were just hit by a drink driver. But don't worry, you didn't suffer. You were killed instantly.
To the people with a red dot under their bottles - Opps - You just drove drunk and caused an accident. But don't worry, they didn't suffer. They were killed instantly.
To the people with a white dot under their bottles - Congratulations - You have just won a $50 Taxi voucher, and you won't kill anyone on your drive home tonight.
Finally, I asked people to remember how easy it is to make split second decisions without giving them much thought.
And I asked that next time, when they have to choose, they make their second count.
There was a round of applause that was hesitant, as if people were not sure whether they should be clapping or not, then without me even realising what was happening, people started emptying their beers.
They tipped them down sinks behind the bar, over the veranda, down drains and gutters and into toilets.
As I watched the people around me emptying their drinks, I felt as though all of the emotions that had been bottled up in order to put together and present the installation were being released. I exhaled, for what felt like the first time in weeks, and just like that, it was all gone.
When the last bottle was emptied another round of applause erupted in the bar, and this time it was packed with energy and intent.
Tonight, I am absolutely exhausted... But I feel better than I have done in months.
One last thing... To everyone at the bar last night, and to everyone who helped make the installation successful, and to everyone who has put up with me while I've had my head so far up the proverbial backside of this new world -
Cheers!
To making every second count.
I went to a bar.
I ran a performance installation piece (no - I'm not really sure what 'performance installation piece' means either).
And I spoke to a bar full of total strangers about the last moments of Daddy Kewl's life.
To put that all together (partly for my benefit as I am still not sure I understand exactly what I was thinking or doing!) - last night I went into a bar where total strangers were eating and drinking, I cut the lights at 20 minute intervals, and during those black outs I told the story of Daddy Kewl's last day with us.
It started off as a bit of fun - the black outs had people curious and the beginning snippets of the story were light hearted and fun. Right before the last black out I handed out free beers to everyone. Naturally, this was very well received.
Then for the last time, the lights went out and I began speaking...
"One second... he said. He sounded distracted. Worse - He sounded serious. There was screeching. Then crunching. Crackling through the phone line. Then nothing. Oh no."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the bar. The lights came up slowly as I continued speaking - getting voicemail, putting the children in the car, driving, the rising panic, seeing the flashing lights, the crumpled metal, finally, seeing M and finishing with the words, "He is gone. He is dead."
Once I stopped speaking, I took a moment to compose myself, then the lights went down again and a spotlight came up on a small stage where I was now standing. I explained that the man who killed my husband had been drinking, but decided to get in the car anyway. He relised his favourite TV show was about to start, so he put his foot down. He was one block from home when he ran a stop sign and hit M's car.
M was killed instantly.
He did not get to see our twin daughters turn one.
He was not there for the birth of our youngest.
He will never be here for birthdays.
For Christmas.
To hear the "I love you"s.
See the smiles.
Give the cuddles.
He'll miss every second.
The other guy was physically unharmed.
But he did miss his TV show.
I went on to mention the free beer people were holding, and the split second it took them to decide whether they wanted it or not.
I asked them to hold the bottles up and look underneath.
To the people with a black dot under their bottles - I'm sorry - You were just hit by a drink driver. But don't worry, you didn't suffer. You were killed instantly.
To the people with a red dot under their bottles - Opps - You just drove drunk and caused an accident. But don't worry, they didn't suffer. They were killed instantly.
To the people with a white dot under their bottles - Congratulations - You have just won a $50 Taxi voucher, and you won't kill anyone on your drive home tonight.
Finally, I asked people to remember how easy it is to make split second decisions without giving them much thought.
And I asked that next time, when they have to choose, they make their second count.
There was a round of applause that was hesitant, as if people were not sure whether they should be clapping or not, then without me even realising what was happening, people started emptying their beers.
They tipped them down sinks behind the bar, over the veranda, down drains and gutters and into toilets.
As I watched the people around me emptying their drinks, I felt as though all of the emotions that had been bottled up in order to put together and present the installation were being released. I exhaled, for what felt like the first time in weeks, and just like that, it was all gone.
When the last bottle was emptied another round of applause erupted in the bar, and this time it was packed with energy and intent.
***
Tonight, I am absolutely exhausted... But I feel better than I have done in months.
One last thing... To everyone at the bar last night, and to everyone who helped make the installation successful, and to everyone who has put up with me while I've had my head so far up the proverbial backside of this new world -
Cheers!
To making every second count.
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