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Showing posts from April, 2017

"It's Late in the Evening..."

I’ve got into the habit of writing my blog too late in the day recently, which can leave me disappointed with the results. The process has certainly changed over the years. When I first started it as an exercise to improve my writing ability (with the hope it would be a springboard for stand-up material), it would take up a lot of my time each day. It just so happened I wasn’t working much at that point, so I was able to devote the time to covered topics in more detail, while perhaps agonizing too much over getting the content as tightly composed as possible. As with anything you stick with, it can veer in and out of being easy and / or fun. Once I’d got a few months into writing every day, there were times when it would loom like a weight over my head if I hadn’t yet posted something. I was particularly strict with being daily for the first year, which was an achievement that teetered on an obsession, and a self-imposed pressure that could sometim

Rushed Diagnosis.

I hope no-one informs whoever owns the rights of seasons five to eight of Diagnosis: Murder that they’re currently available on YouTube as, if they do, I could be scuppered when it comes to watching the latter half of my favourite hospital-based sleuthing series. (Quincy comes second, due to pathology being pretty grim.) I’ve written here before of my frustration regarding the airing habits of various channels with the programme. For a long time, Five USA were the culprits for constantly looping back to the first series instead of going past the end of season four; now CBS Action are facing my wrath, for doing the same with just the first two seasons. It’s as if they think no-one’s watching, which is a defeatist stance to take; how else is a highly-strung person like me supposed to relax without my daily dose of Dick Van Dyke? I can’t even buy the DVD Box Set, as it’s (1) stupidly expensive and (2) I’d need to invest in a multi-region DVD player; t

Paint Pop.

I'd have liked the guy shouting Rick Astley's 'Please Don't Go' at the top of his voice whilst decorating the flat next door me today to go himself, if given the choice. It’s not uncommon for people to moan about noisy neighbours, but this was the limit. The guy wasn’t singing, he was yelling, and he wasn’t shy about it either; he didn’t care that he was subjecting anyone within a two-mile radius to unconsenting Astley, or that he sounded atonal and unpleasant; he wanted the listener to know he was begging them to stay. I hope there's no truth to the Stone Tape theory that some rooms store traumatic events and then replay them when the conditions are right as, if so, a future tenant could be subjected to close-encounter Eighties pop on a wet Spring day. Even Rick’s biggest fan wouldn’t want to hear his songs that loud, even if Astley himself was doing the decorating; to paraphrase one of his other hits, I thought he'd never give up. Hopefully th

Petered Out.

My mood brightened considerably today when I read that Peter Lilley is standing down at the next election. I have a natural dislike for politicians of the Tory persuasion - or politicians at all for the most part - but Lilley's a particularly unpleasant example, even when taking this into account. Just a quick look at his voting record reveals some particularly distasteful allegiances, having consistently voted against Gay rights, against raising welfare benefits and measures to prevent climate change to name just a few. He's a staunch supporter of leaving the EU and for a stricter asylum system that plays right into the hands of the Daily Mail contingent; in fact it’s hard to find anything he's done or the common good. This was no surprise to me, having crossed paths with him briefly when Glyn and I reluctantly appeared in a sketch with him at a Hitchin Rotary event in 2008.  I’ve covered it here before so I won’t go into too much detail , save to say that

Webshite.

The Mostly Comedy website is about to have a massive overhaul, and not a moment too soon, I say. The redesign was done by long-term Doggett & Ephgrave colleague and ex-Mostly doorman James Hingley, who’s done an excellent job of tidying things up while making it more interesting to look at. For a long while, we’ve let it slide (though not as much as the D&E site, which hasn’t been updated for years), so it will be nice to be back in action, making the most of the database of photographs we have since the club’s formation while also making it easier for us to sell more tickets; I’m amazed we’ve consistently sold as well as we have, when our website is often people’s first port-of-call and yet the last place to find the latest information. The best bit about the website’s reworking is it will enable Glyn and I to update information easily from the comfort of our own homes without much additional effort. Previously, Glyn would have to do it, y

The Man With One Brain.

According to Headspace , I’ve meditated 272 days in a row, which is no mean feat. I’m proud of myself for sticking with it and, while I was practising most days anyway before downloading the app, its been an invaluable addition to my life, helping me train my mind to healthily approach any challenges I may be faced with from day to day. I admit I was reticent to opt for a subscription-based service once my free trial had elapsed, despite finding those first few sessions useful. It’s funny how differently you can view paying for something that's slightly out of the norm; I wouldn’t flinch at spending a fiver a month on luxury or superfluous items such as chocolate, alcohol or magazines, yet committing the same amount to something that might benefit my well-being seemed too much; there was a sense of ‘would it be worth it?’ to the whole thing. I can now state categorically that it was . Headspace has a huge resource of guided meditations

Jobsworse.

Spare a thought for the producer who dreamt of working on a multi-platinum album, yet records the page-turning sound for an e-paper instead. Surely no-one sets out to be responsible for that, yet someone has to do it. It’s like the people who photograph food for menus or zoom in on the winning lottery numbers when they come out of Guinevere; they provide a service of reasonable value that isn't something to aspire to. It must be hard to work on something so utterly mundane. My ex-flatmate had a couple of jobs when we lived together that served a financial purpose, but were amusing in their dullness; something we both used to joke about. The Top Three were: 3) Packing mushrooms (he's allergic to them). 2) Stacking toilets. 1) Ironing snooker tables. The top job was by definition the best. It was a door-to-door service, which meant driving from pool hall to pool hall, asking if they needed anything doing. I hope it was

Beautleful.

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One thing I like Paul McCartney for is his b-sides and his lesser-known work. Sadly, a clichĂ©d view of his solo material has formed over the years that does no justice to his huge back catalogue. At best, people tend to rate Wings 1973 album Band on the Run as a near-return to form of his unparalleled Beatles period, but after that, critique tends to fall silent, save the easy - and unreasonable - allusions to twee granny musak made by Lennon during the bitter early Seventies. In reality, the last twenty years have seen a surprising array of top-quality albums that are regularly described as “his best work since Band on the Run”, whilst forgetting this same comment has been applied to nearly every release since 1997’s Flaming Pie. It’s normally his choice of singles that cloud the water, by not always being reflective of his current output. While there are many songs I’d site as favourites, one popped in my mind that’s worth a mention: the

Mainly Mostly Me.

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I enjoyed tonight’s Mostly Comedy, and had fun doing my work-in-progress set. Me, after they told me I'd have to do an hour at tonight's Mostly The turnout for the gig was considerably less compared to our recent run of sold out dates; a point that elicited a negative reaction from just about everyone I spoke to. “Oh,” went the standard refrain. “You usually have a lot more than that,” as if I didn’t know. The point is though: that’s fine. You can’t sustain high numbers every time. The fact we do as well as we do consistently is pretty astounding, but that’s not to say that there isn’t room for the odd quieter date, particularly on a night like tonight, where the line-up were trying out new material. What made this evening work as well as it did was the fact that people seemed to know what they were coming to see (as regards the event as a whole) rather than being enticed in by the headliner, without considering it’s a show with a

Commute-y Comedy.

I had my first casting in months this morning, which I enjoyed, despite having to get into Central London first thing. There’s something distinctly dissatisfying about buying a peak-time train ticket, only to have to stand the whole way; what you have to do for a discounted rate: a journey-long headstand? I managed to meditate for a bit whilst on my feet, but it was hardly the most relaxing way to do it; I also dropped half of my tablets on the floor when I pulled out my pillbox; as long as any passing dogs have similar health problems to me, we should be okay. The casting was the sort I prefer, as there was no dialogue, so I didn’t have to cram lines into my head when it came in yesterday with little notice. I just had to react subtly to a comedic situation ( which pretty much sums up my life). It was over in a flash and I was on the train back to Hitchin, seated this time, ready to get on with what I’d planned for the rest of the day. When I got home, I ran my set

Hard Pressed.

I’m a little frustrated by the lack of interest in this month’s Mostly Comedy, both in the local press and in general. Despite the fact the club's gone from strength to strength, there’s a sense that Glyn and I don’t get the credit for what we’ve built, and when we occasionally shine a light on our own work - as I am this week, by doing an extended work-in-progress set at Thursday’s gig - the local papers (whose job it is to run stories of local interest) - don’t cover it at all. For nearly nine years, I’ve written press releases for every show and sent them to the papers, and as time goes by, our shows have been covered less and less. I know lot of this is no doubt due to cutbacks across the industry, with fewer journalists available to specialise in any given field, but I also know that good content is good content - yet some of the biggest names to play our club (whose coming to Hitchin constitutes a story ) have been a secret outside of our

Getting Dry From the Bath.

It was nice to be able to treat myself to a proper day off today, after the success of this weekend’s shows. I didn’t expect the reaction to be so positive so soon, or for the running time of the material to be as comfortably long; that’s not to say that there won’t be big changes before it transforms into what I take to Edinburgh, but it’s heartening to already be at such an encouraging point; at the least, I felt allowed to take a bit of a break from it today, after working so intensely on it for the past week. I’m not really sure what I’ve done with my free time today. This evening was very television led, what with finishing the Mel Brooks’ film Young Frankenstein (which we started watching the day before I went to Bath) and the last episode of Broadchurch. I hadn’t seen the former before, but really enjoyed it; it’s shot beautifully and is full of brilliant comedy performances from every one of the cast. The latter was enjoyable too, even if it almost universally pa

Get Out of the Bath.

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Tonight saw my last show in Bath, which I’m pleased to report went well, like the first one. Me, contemplating the meaning of life, pre-show. As is often the case when you have a long day with a gig at the end of it, it got to the stage where I almost hoped I wouldn’t have to do it. Signs literally seemed to point that way when I arrived at the venue to find I’d been missed off the blackboard outside; it’s disheartening when you’re booked to do a show at 6:00pm, yet the sign outside the pub suggests there’s nothing on until 11:00pm; how many people would see this and turn away? This negative feeling was compounded when the act before me overran by over ten minutes, which meant I got into the space late and had less time to deal with a sound issue that came up. Thankfully, I managed to fix this, but the stress of the truncated get-in didn’t put me in the best mindset to talk for an hour; I could have done without the agro. Ultimately, I was glad things went ahead, a

Bath Brewings.

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I did the first of my two Bath Comedy Festival dates today, which I really enjoyed, despite a slightly frenetic lead-up. Live and in CHALK. My wife and I drove down this morning (she did the steering and I did the pedals), and while the journey was pleasant, we arrived with only just enough time to park, drop our things off at the hotel and get to the venue. The show before me came down at 4:00pm with mine set to start at 4:30pm, yet we only walked into to the building at 3:45pm-sh. Consequently, I didn’t have much chance to look over my notes before I began, which could have been fraught when most of the material was new. Thankfully, the get-in was swift and unstressful (largely thanks to the excellent tech staff), which was a relief, as you never know if there’s going to be an issue when you go into a new space, particularly when running AV to an unknown projector and desk. Despite the rush, I settled pretty quickly once I’d begun,

Pre-Bath.

I’m pretty much all set for my shows in Bath this weekend . I did a couple of runs today, to get the general shape of what I’m doing in my head, and it seems to zip along quite nicely. There are points I’ll definitely address in the coming months and other bits that need writing, but it will be nice to at least get some of the ideas out in the open, even in their early state, to start seeing what works. Some of the material I do this weekend may not make it to Edinburgh, but hopefully a fair amount of it should - and it’s encouraging to have the beginnings take shape. My only concern is whether the tech set-up at the venue will be as I need it. It should be, but there’s always an added element of stress when you’re unable to get into the space until half an hour before the show. The start time for tomorrow is 4:30pm and then 6:00pm on Saturday, which is a pain as it would have been more helpful the other way around, to give more of a window to drive to Bath tomorrow and an

Po(o)sh.

Today, I unwittingly stumbled across the most middle-class response to a lack of toilet roll in a public convenience in Hitchin's Caffè Nero, that somehow managed to be both grim and aspirational in equal measure. The gents’ there are awkward enough as it is, consisting of just a single cubicle with a small vestibule area that's akin to a airlock with just a sink and barely anywhere to stand. Once you’ve discovered it's engaged, you feel trapped, unable to walk straight out into the coffee shop so soon after walking in, yet also feeling too uncomfortable to stay. You’re too close to the theatre of conflict, so to speak, with no way out; it’s an exercise in social embarrassment. I walked in with trepidation today, sensing before I was anywhere near that someone was already in there, about to leave me in limbo (I was right). I stood, waiting for too long in that loo lobby, from where I could hear an ominous rustling on the other side of t

Eurolder Disney.

I’ve noticed #DisneylandParis25 is trending as a sponsored hashtag on Twitter to mark the park's twenty-fifth anniversary; I was there for its first birthday: I’m older than Steamboat Willie. I remember three things predominantly about that holiday: (1) it rained a lot, (2) my mum wouldn’t go on any ride except The Adventures of Peter Pan (which was the tamest option there, save a park bench on Main Street), and (3) my dad and I kept going on the Haunted Mansion repeatedly every day because it was great. People might knock Euro Disney, particularly in its early days when it was a lot more basic, but I loved it. I was so excited to be there, having always wanted to go to Disneyland as a kid. There was no way the bad weather (or the fact it was in France) was going to ruin it for me. It’s testament to how much I’d wanted to go that so much of it is still so vivid in my head; it was my first experience of a theme park and was a pretty good initiat