mostly david ephgrave

Today, I voted for my local Lib Dem candidate, Sam Collins; the first time I haven't voted for the Labour Party in a General Election. That's not to say I've switched allegiance - I still want Labour in - but I'm thinking tactically. And locally, as Sam would be an absolute asset to Hitchin as our MP. I put this out there in the hope it'll give anyone umming & ahhing over whether to vote tactically the reassurance others are doing it. four out of the five tactical-voting sites in the image below suggest voting Lib Dem in Hitchin & Harpenden; let's get duplicitous Boris Johnson and the Tories out. Remember: endlessly intoning they'll "Get Brexit Done" after all the "dither and delay in Parliament" is simple and memorable, but it's devoid of substance. And it's a lie too, as even accepting the Conservatives' current deal will not be an end to it.  That's my two penn'orths; Ephgrave, over and out.

I'm currently suffering a real disillusionment with life, particularly from a career perspective, that's making it near-impossible to focus on what to do next. As I've already intimated, personal problems connected to the loss of my dad play a large part in this sense of frozen momentum. One thing my standard response to depression illustrates is my tendency to approach difficulty with energy and action, mostly creatively - even this blog started life as an exercise to assist my mental health - but even that's been overwhelmed by current circumstances; I think cancelling Edinburgh was the final straw as it struck from the diary my focus at a cost far more expensive than my turnover for the past two years combined. (And that's without factoring in the damage to my confidence and morale.) As it stands, I don't know how to pick myself up again. I've borne-witness to the assassination of things that mattered most to me by someone I thought knew bett

Yesterday, I used the example of Star Trek's "redshirts" trope in my therapy appointment after my therapist suggested I'm too intent on trying to solve my current problems myself, instead of handing them to someone more qualified to deal with them (in this case, the solicitor I've taken on to negotiate issues relating to my dad's estate). If you're not familiar with the principle, it's simple: whenever the crew land on a mysterious alien planet, it's always the cast-members dressed in red and not blue - the actors with a handful of IMDB credits as opposed to Shatner, Nimoy or Kelly - who walk headfirst into danger to meet a sticky end. This happens often enough not to be a primary-coloured coincidence and is so common a plot-point to have inspired a comic novel of the same name.  While I'd usually agree with this summation, I know it doesn't apply in this instance, as things have been so terrible since my dad's death, I crave d

I don't feel much momentum at the moment; everything's at a standstill. When I did the only preview that went ahead this year, I found energy I hadn't expected that drove the show along and made me feel I could still do Edinburgh, despite  the inevitable impact of the loss of my dad and the circumstances around it ; that, plus the money donated, showed I had support from an unseen audience. However, the project was inevitably on a knife-edge and still vulnerable to collapse; it was a delicate balance susceptible to sabotage from extra pressure. And that's what happened: I hit a familiar brick wall. The inability to strike a temporary compromise with a close relative over my dad's estate made me feel unable to leave home for a month with everything in flux, so I cancelled the run with a few days' notice at a cost of over £6000. And not only did the relative never mention the cancellation or the fact I was meant to be doing Edinburgh at all  until a

After five and a half years, Glyn and I have moved to a bigger office on the same premises, which now puts us at the advantage of having room to swing a Bengal tiger. When we took on the first space, we worried if we could justify it, but despite being the size of a modest broom-cupboard (with just enough room to keep a dustpan & brush), we put it to good use; all my solo shows were written and rehearsed there, and the majority of our radio shows were recorded there too, which was a bit of a squeeze for the three of us involved.  It was also a storeroom for our Mostly Comedy gear in-between shows, which pretty much rendered it impossible to run our material there without kissing. (Like that's an excuse.) While it's sad to see it go (admittedly only across the corridor) the move is a positive step that reeks of potential. The new office is actually two rooms - one the size of our original office and another approximately six times bigger - which enables us to ke

Today we buried my dad's ashes at the church in Woolmer Green where we had his funeral, opposite his old school and the pub he drank in regularly, in the same grave as his parents. The service was brief but pleasant, in the presence of his close family, and I had the responsibility of lowering the casket at the opportune moment. Doing this was hard, inevitably, but it also meant a lot to be the one to do it, and I hope it would give me dad comfort to know the task went to me; I love and miss him unceasingly and he's always on my mind (look out, Willie Nelson), and he told me not long before he died that I made him less afraid, so I hope I helped. There's one conversation we had in his last few weeks that was pertinent. Like many men, we didn't express the depth of our feelings until the last moment, but they could still be summed up in a few words. At the time, my heart ached as we navigated difficult topics knowing there wouldn't be a second chance. But I

I know I've mentioned it before, but I feel entirely zapped of creativity at the moment; circumstances are such that I'd currently struggle to define myself as a comedian, or anything else. At best, I'd put myself as a frustrated comedy promoter in that all I'm doing is keeping my club ticking over post-Edinburgh without deriving much joy from it. My enthusiasm has taken a severe dip in the wake of attempting to settle my private situation and the knock to my confidence was compounded by the loss of my dad and by pulling Edinburgh, despite the attention and encouragement I'd received in advance; I feel like I conned the people who donated to my JustGiving page, despite the fact that cancelling the run cost more than the money I raised to do it. Outside of running the club, I can keep a low profile for awhile - I'm not going up for castings and the Mostly gigs are the only performance dates in the diary - but I'd still sooner not be doing stand-up th

Today, Neil Innes told me off for writing a song so catchy it stuck in his head, which was a compliment I'm delighted to take on board. Posing with Neil Innes after tonight's Hitchin Mostly Comedy (03.10.19) He said it to me just after Glyn and I finished soundchecking Ukulele Girl for the evening's show; something I felt very conscious he was watching at the back. Being nonchalant about it was never going to be easy - this was someone who'd worked with Paul McCartney and George Harrison, after all - but I did my best to act like he was the sort of audience I put up with every day. He turned out to be lovely, which is always a bonus when you meet someone with his pedigree whose work you highly rate. I suspected I'd at least be able to talk to him quite freely about the work of him and his contemporaries, but it was nice that he was happy to discuss them, and was just generally a good sport. It goes to show how the biggest and best people we have at the c

I'm trying to find a little pocket of calm in a difficult time of change. It isn't easy. I have to accept I won't be able to reason with the person at the root of it because they're in denial. So I have to come to terms with their behaviour again. I now know this was inevitable, but it's still upsetting, particularly when I consider how quickly they apparently decided to abandon me for good. I miss my dad: the other day, I had a crisis and my first thought was to ring him for advice, then I remembered a beat later this wasn't possible. Coming to terms with the fact the conversation's over is such a horrible part of grief; I get out of a friend's car at the same spot he used to drop me off at and he's on my mind; I reach the end of a pack of coffee filters I bought when he was still alive and have the morbid thought that he went first. The other night I had a dream about him, and it was only the next day that I realised it wasn't the f

Show number two (well, three if you count the launch show) was a bit of a commitment when it came to running-time, but that's the way it goes when there are so many couples to get through. Thankfully, my Saturday nights aren't the halcyon fare they once were (actually, were they?) so I was available and happy to stick with it. As ever, I tweeted along with proceedings like the armchair critic I am; see below for my unnecessary commentary (which was minimal, actually): 6:43PM: Tess' opening gambit: like a soulless panto.   6:52PM: Don't let Bruno's FedEx plug mislead you: other postal delivery services are available.   6:53PM: ...but what was with that black sofa?   6:54PM: Tony Hadley has that glitter-slash-door-on-casters on his rider.   7:03PM: Whatever animal they skinned to make Bruno's jacket from was both well-tailored and camp.   7:46PM: I feel a bit sorry for James Cracknell when it came to the feedback; the judges sometimes put too mu

We live in anxiety-provoking times.  The news is awash with it; If it's not Trump, it's Brexit. The gutter press is full of aggressive rhetoric stoked by politicians that risks winding up the less-informed to the point of violence, and somehow we have to navigate this without being overwhelmed by it. Meanwhile, global warming marches on with nary a glance when it should be our priority. If you suffer from panic attacks or anxiety in a clinical sense, as I do, the bigger picture will only compound your struggle, so it's often best to limit exposure to it, at least until don't feel so vulnerable. But at the same time, I hate to not be abreast with events so I've often got an eye on the news (something social media only encourages). The trick is to try to strike a balance. You can do small things to help the situation while keeping a relatively low profile. But if we want to take away this perceived fire we need to work harder at not being so toxic.

The fact Boris Johnson's attempted five-week prorogation of Parliament was unanimously deemed unlawful by the Supreme Court today is exceptionally good news from my standpoint. When it comes down to it, Johnson's motivation was blatant, and - like so much of his approach - deeply questionable: he used the excuse of preparation for a Queen's Speach as a tool to prevent Parliament from debating and discussing his actions related to his much-repeated supposed final deadline to leave the EU. To do this was disgusting and, ultimately, illegal, and it's only right he should be held to account for it. Most importantly of all, Parliament will resume tomorrow with the wind severely taken from Johnson's sails. And once again, it can do its job. There will be many Brexiters who'll attempt to rubbish the ruling but the facts of the matter shouldn't be ignored. And Johnson needs to stop riding roughshod across democracy like the amateurish dictator he is.

The dust has barely settled from last week's Mostly and we're already promoting the next one; this time, headed by the member of musical comedy royalty that is Neil Innes. See below for the press release for it: Press Release – 20.10.19 mostly comedy a monthly comedy club at hitchin town hall Hitchin’s comic duo DOGGETT & EPHGRAVE celebrate the eleventh birthday of their successful monthly club Mostly Comedy on 3rd October by hosting a cracking line-up at the Town Hall, headed by honorary seventh member of Monty Python, NEIL INNES . Innes is a British writer and musical comic best known for playing in the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band and The Rutles. He studied at the Norwich School of Fine Art, from which he was thrown out around 1963, allegedly for "spending all day playing music, instead of making things". In the period 1962-65, Innes and several other art school students started a band which was originally named The Bonzo Dog Dada Band after

Tonight, another Strictly series started in earnest with an opening show as long as a Peter Jackson film, only more chintzy.  As per usual, I found myself tweeting along with the action. See below for what was said and when should you be interested.  7:05PM: I'd like to remind you once again that the #Strictly studio's the same room where Jack Nicholson went mental as the caretaker of the Overlook Hotel in The Shining.   7:19PM: "Kicking off 2019". In September   7:32PM: All us musicians across the land, waiting for the edit.   7:36PM: 5-5-5-5: my PIN.   7:38PM: AJ: "How did you start vlogging?"    Saffron: "Well, my dad was a vlogger..."    7:40PM: Finally, AJ has a partner that makes him look like the adult.   7:47PM: Mike's miming break looked like Father Dougal doing Elvis. Fun though.   7:54PM: James Cracknell's channelling Paul Nicholas.   7:58PM: Tonight, Tess Daly's wearing an old man's trousers.   

Tonight's Mostly Comedy saw the club sink just that little bit more comfortably into its new home of Hitchin Town Hall with a suitably busy gig (with just over 200 attending) and a suitably big name to close in the form of Reginald D Hunter. Reginald D Hunter at Hitchin Mostly Comedy (19.09.19) The point hammered home was how nice everyone at the Town Hall is and how easy setup is compared to all our other bases. We're still getting used to not having to do as much as previously, but it's a lovely problem to have, particularly when our time together's so tight; I arrived a little before Glyn at 4:30pm and we were still long done by about 6:45pm, which was unheard of back-in-the-day; I even had time to get changed and eat, which was a bonus. The show itself went well too. Both Lynn Ruth Miller and Reginald D Hunter were great and charming in their inimitable way and the audience reaction was fantastic. Admittedly, the gig loses intimacy in a room this size, but s

Today I changed the ink pad in the Mostly Comedy hand-stamp for the first time in eleven years; it's fair to say we got our money's worth. Stampy-wampy, catchy-monkey. If I could be bothered, I'd dig out some graph paper and work out a rough tally of how many hands it's stamped, although it wouldn't take into account people who snuck in without being branded, of course. It's probably best I don't anyway as it would be a dull endeavour, although I'm sure the grand total's still impressive. That stamp has travelled from venue to venue and somehow managed to stay intact. You could even say it's a little iconic on a local level at least. When I wasn't replenishing my ink stocks - euphemism - I was prepping equipment for tomorrow's show to make life easier on the day. Our get-in is super-tight so the more ready we are, the easier it will all be. It's another busy one too with 200 or so people coming, so it's good to not

I feel like my life's on pause.  My impetus has gone at the moment. It's almost impossible to see beyond the mess I'm in, to a time when I can live in my dad's house and look to the future, while still allowing space for my past to be important.  Creatively, I have no interest in work; in fact, it's not that I'm disinterested, I just can't concentrate on anything. I'm already anxious about Thursday's Mostly Comedy; I have no desire to be funny and I'm certainly not match-fit. Hopefully, Glyn and I can just stick to some well-trodden material so I don't have to perform on my own. It's daunting to be back in a situation where the past threatens to overwhelm my present, and all because what I suffered - both as a child and as an adult - has been rendered unimportant by someone who hasn't the right to do that. And that person - who never played by the rules or tried to meet other people's expectations - continues to act a

I was walking into town the other day, doing my best to keep a low profile, when a little unexpected kindness lifted my morale a bit. I'd just got home from my early-morning dog-walk and had quickly sorted myself to head back out to get my hair cut. Unfortunately, my vestibular migraine was at full-tilt and I had the general demeanour of a man trying to slip by unnoticed; to be honest, I'd exit my body while in the barber's chair, let alone on my way to it. As I walked along the main road, two guys came towards me chatting to each other, and I instinctively tried to shrink into myself. As they got closer, one flagged me down with an "Ah, Mr Ephgrave" and held out a hand for me to shake it. "Hello", I replied, a little confused. Picking up on my confusion, he countered with, "We're big fans of your work." I didn't expect that. It was a little shot of generosity, probably inspired by all the attention my Edinburgh fundrai

While it's fair to say life's currently challenging, I'm carefully trying to navigate the difficulty - despite the pain involved - to look to the future and a time of change. Before I continue, I should make it clear it took me a long time to arrive at that sentence. It was by no means my starting point, having gone through three of four bleak drafts that painted my situation with brutal honesty. But while I'm allowed to speak my mind, I'm bored with giving negativity power when I want to be done with it.  One thing's for certain: right now my anxiety levels are through the roof. I'm permanently in fight or flight mode, psychologically waiting for the next attack. It's probably counter-productive, but I've been drinking more than usual, something I'm not supposed to do on my medication, though I try to be careful. This probably doesn't help my mood, but it waters down my edginess a little and switches my brain off. While it's

Press releases are a means to an end (that end being, "to hope to draw an audience"). There's no guarantee this will work, but when you're hosting an act like Reginald D Hunter, you'd expect to get a fair amount of interest. See below for the press release for our next Hitchin show a fortnight today, then book: Doggett, D Hunter and Ephgrave, backstage at a one-off Mostly Comedy at Royal Airforce Museum London. Press Release – 05.09.19 mostly comedy a monthly comedy club at hitchin town hall The duo behind Hitchin’s successful long-running club Mostly Comedy, DOGGETT & EPHGRAVE , kick off their Autumn 2019 season on 19th September at their new home Hitchin Town Hall in the company of TV favourite, REGINALD D HUNTER. Reg is one of the comedy scene’s best-known performers and is a regular on such primetime shows as Have I Got News For You, QI, 8 Out Of 10 Cats and Live at The Apollo. He was born in Albany in Georgia in 1969 and initia