Birthdavid.


I spent the morning of my thirty-fourth birthday (which is today) walking my mum’s dog.

It was a nice way to spend it. He’s always pleased to see me and he’s good company. I tend to walk him most Thursdays, but I haven’t been able to for the last few weeks, due to other commitments. I think he still remembered me, though he’d probably give the same enthusiastic reaction to anyone who turned up at the door. He’s not much of a guard dog, that boy.

I began the day by running for the bus. This is always a good way to start. By the time I sat down, I was sweating copiously. I was surrounded by teenagers on their way to school; all far more comfortable in their own skin at that moment than me. How can this be the case, when I’m in my mid-thirties? The more I tried to control my perspiration, the worse it got. I looked like a human water feature.

I managed to get my secretory glands in control by the time I got off, which was a relief. I didn’t want people to think I had a problem. Not that problem, anyway. No one likes a sweaty Betty.

After I completed my dog-walking duties, I caught the bus back to Hitchin. I went into the office to tinker with some stand-up material, ready for a gig I’m doing next week. My enthusiasm for it has waned a little over the last few days, which is probably a combination of a natural come-down from my Brighton run and frustration with my Chortle review, which felt like an attack from every angle. I know it’s rubbish, and I know I’ll get past it, but it adds an unnecessary background noise in my head when I’m working. How easy it is for one person to flippantly affect the mindset of another, and in doing so, unwittingly unravel months of hard work. Shame he didn’t proofread what he said before he posted it.

(“Donut?”)

I listened back to bits of March’s Soho Theatre gig to help me decide what to put in next week’s setlist – and lo and behold, I heard laughter. That’s the thing to hold onto. If people find Citizen Khan funny, there’s still hope for me.

P.S. I spotted this magazine on my mum’s dining table today.


 Surely that title's an oxymoron?

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Image
Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...
Read more

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce...
Read more

Hoo-ray and up She Rises.

So much has happened since my last post in March that this blog risks sounding like an itinerary. The main news is that Hitchin Mostly Comedy will return in the summer at a new venue, the Queen Mother Theatre . The road to this decision was convoluted, though enough fell into place en route to leave me optimistic about this new start. The catalyst was a survey I ran via our mailing list a few months back, in which I asked, "If the club returned in the current climate, with tickets still around £15 (and with similar line-ups), would you still attend?"; the response to which, in simple terms, was a resounding yes. Nearly 250 mailing list subscribers responded in a single week, with around a hundred also taking the option to leave some feedback. And only two people were abusive, which counts as a win when you consider they posted their comments online anonymously. Imagine how many more insults we would have received if the comedy club was a woman. Particularly if she was Diane ...
Read more