My Day (in Reverse).


I listened to this evening’s In Your Inner Ear when it went out, so I could tweet the relevant pictures along with it, as per usual.

I laughed quite a lot at the content, which is always a good sign. I sometimes got a little annoyed by my tone, but I guess there’s nothing new here; everybody suffers from the old ‘not liking hearing a recording of their own voice’ syndrome from time to time, though as a performer, you get over it pretty quickly, otherwise you’d never do anything. Seeing and hearing yourself goes with the territory (unless you’re Roger Daltrey in Tommy, that is; *rock opera reference*).

Today was also one of those few occasions in my life when I felt the urge to catch up on some housework. First off, my budgies’ cage has needed cleaning out for an embarrassingly long time; so much so, it had got to the point where I could barely see the birds for the pile of birdseed shells. I also took out the recycling and the food bin and vacuumed my flat. That’s possibly the dullest sentence I’ve ever written, but it describes the makings of a tidier household, I can tell you.

Prior to all of this housework activity, I popped into the office for an hour or so, to run through some of the material I’d been working on this week. I made a point of not hanging about, as I’ve spent far too much time there on my own lately, which has made me a little cabin-feverish. Time seems to disappear rapidly when I’m in there, so it’s good to escape before another day flies by. The only setback today was that nothing seemed funny, though this was probably just the mood I was in, rather than an accurate reading of the content. I’m my own worst critic and, like with the radio show, I sometimes tire of my own voice. Hopefully things will look better tomorrow on fresh ears. I hope so, otherwise I’ll have to employ a ghostwriter for my forthcoming shows; I hear Ewan McGregor’s pretty good it, apparently, considering what he did for Pierce Brosnan. There’s nothing like an obscure reference to a Roman Polanski-directed film of a Robert Harris novel to round off a blog-post.

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