Get Your Own Page.
There's little that can
match the unbridled joy of discovering you’re next to Dave Benson Phillips in
the Brighton Fringe brochure.
Dave Benson Ephgrave. |
I wasn’t aware of
this strange quirk of fate until I flicked through the copy I picked up from
Brighton Station last night, on arriving in town to do a spot at a comedy
night. On balance, it isn’t that
bizarre an occurrence - this is how alphabetical listings work - but it’s
still a moment to savour; anyone who thinks I'm not a success will now be laughing on the other side of their face (which isn't healthy).
It’s not the first time I’ve rubbed shoulders with celebrity in a festival brochure sense. In 2008, Glyn and I had an advert in the Edinburgh Fringe brochure on the same page as one for a show featuring the drummer from Dodgy. As a low-level fan, I’d noticed this instantly, but had it neatly underlined when I happened to bump into him flyering on the street. He spoke to me like he knew me and I played along, though I suspect the only reason he thought this was because he’d seen my face next to his in the programme and had stored it away subconsciously; the fact he even did that - to use a pun - was Good Enough for me.
Funnily enough, I once met Dave Benson Phillips at a mutual friend's 30th birthday party at Elstree Studios. It was a busy affair - so much so, it took a long time to track my friend down to pass on a happy return or two. He happened to be talking to my Brighton Fringe page-sake at the time; Phillips turned to me as I chatted with my friend as if he was trying to work out who I was. Or so I thought: he may have been having a sixteen-year-early premonition.
It’s not the first time I’ve rubbed shoulders with celebrity in a festival brochure sense. In 2008, Glyn and I had an advert in the Edinburgh Fringe brochure on the same page as one for a show featuring the drummer from Dodgy. As a low-level fan, I’d noticed this instantly, but had it neatly underlined when I happened to bump into him flyering on the street. He spoke to me like he knew me and I played along, though I suspect the only reason he thought this was because he’d seen my face next to his in the programme and had stored it away subconsciously; the fact he even did that - to use a pun - was Good Enough for me.
Funnily enough, I once met Dave Benson Phillips at a mutual friend's 30th birthday party at Elstree Studios. It was a busy affair - so much so, it took a long time to track my friend down to pass on a happy return or two. He happened to be talking to my Brighton Fringe page-sake at the time; Phillips turned to me as I chatted with my friend as if he was trying to work out who I was. Or so I thought: he may have been having a sixteen-year-early premonition.