mostly david ephgrave

I lost my dad a year ago today; I don't know where the time's gone. He's never far from my mind though. And nothing I do could have happened without him. Because, as he once poetically put it, "You can't even wipe your own arse".  I'm inevitably feeling a little fragile. There's a dull, heavy ache in my body and the need to take things gently. Anniversaries seldom hold much weight for me as I know the date's arbitrary, but this one's a little different as it marks the first year gone. The first full cycle. And that's not easy to consider, however matter-of-fact I try to be. I visited the cemetery today where he's buried, as I often do, and took my dog with me. It was probably due to the hot weather more than anything, but when we arrived at the grave, my dog sat down at the foot of it and made himself comfortable, chewing the grass. It seemed like a good idea, so I joined him (minus the grass bit). We sat there together, by m

It was very heartening when the virtual doors opened on our first-ever ZOOMostly Comedy last night to see so many people logging in and know we had lots of interest. We'd only announced we'd be pushing the podcast aspect of the originally-billed show online under a fortnight ago, so the turnaround was tight. The fact the interview was with the main pull of the night - Arthur Smith - was likely to go in our favour, but there were no guarantees people would be tech-savvy enough to want to try it. It shows how attitudes have changed since lockdown began that asking audience members to join us via the meeting software Zoom wasn't a big deal. And in many ways, I think the interview we presented was probably all the better for it, which is fortunate as it's likely to be the way Mostly Comedy will run for a good few months at least. Arthur was, as ever, the perfect guest. He's always warm and friendly and - unlike many younger, less experienced and less astute com

My anxiety's been through the roof lately, though I've been trying to rein it in with my usual coping techniques - meditation being the main one - but interestingly, I've found drumming particularly beneficial too. I ordered an electric kit at the start of lockdown - although it only arrived at the beginning of May - firmly intending to work on an aspect of my musicality for the first time in God knows how long. I'm a lazy musician who only practises when I'm working, which is shocking really. And drumming's something I've never spent much time on, though I've always been very comfortable with percussion, so it's not too big a stretch. Ordering the kit ticked a lot of boxes in the current circumstances, offering the opportunity for exercise that I was sure would be good for my mental health. And the latter's already evident. It's fair to say I'm going through a rough patch with my depression and anxiety that's been aggravated

After a lifetime of narcissistic abuse that only intensified since my dad's death last May - and after a year of trying to preserve our relationship without letting her pathological lies pass unchecked  - I've reluctantly ended contact with my mother. When someone's mistreatment of you and lack of accountability makes you consider ending your life to escape it more than once, both as a child and as an adult, and telling them doesn't make them change their behaviour, self-preservation dictates to walk away. And when they twist reality so frequently that you start recording your calls to maintain your sanity, you're in an imbalanced relationship. How can you continue association with a person who thinks saying a lie out loud makes it real? In time I'll be open about my story, but for now, I want to be clear she doesn't represent me. And I have the support and testimony of my dad's family, his ex-girlfriend & family, the teacher I first opened

Today's birthday's officially known as "The one before forty"; shit it. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it; I don't know where the time's gone. My thirtieth (which I spent on stage in the Netherlands, having Happy Birthday sung to me by a theatre-full of Dutch people who went into an inexplicable mass-chant afterwards) seems like only yesterday. And now I'm a year away from achieving the lifespan of John Lennon. Part of the problem with being an actor is for your first few jobs you're probably the youngest person in the cast, so you feel the need to age up. Then before you know it, you're somewhere in the oldest 25%. As long as I can spend the rest of my career cast in shows about the elderly, I can maintain the illusion of youth (though if my over-washed lockdown hands are anything to go by, I'll be making my living as an octagenarian hand-double). I even scuppered myself by choosing Glyn as my double act partner as he&

I currently feel like a bomb's gone off in my head; the energy to work past my low mood isn't there. It's like there's a hole where my drive should be. A load of last-minute admin relating to the online interview we're doing in place of Mostly Comedy next week flew in both yesterday and today, which lifted my anxiety to accentuate my sense of worthlessness. It's like I'm racing to meet deadlines for something I'm no longer interested in, which isn't strictly true, but when depression's at its worst, that's how the world looks. Of course, I know why I'm feeling like this. It's the fallout from a year's worth of watching a close relative illustrate they care less about me than they care about money or maintaining the lies they'd built up. It's learning they never understood what they put me through as a child, then as an adult, and that their temper is such they can't process the truth if it paints them in a n

Finally, five years on from our last instalment interviewing Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee in a conference room at Hitchin's Sun Hotel before their set at The Market Theatre next door, we have a new episode of our More Than Mostly Comedy Podcast available. This time, the comedian and impressionist Kate Robbins and standup and star of Red Dwarf Norman Lovett were in the spotlight; almost literally, in that we interviewed them onstage during the second half of February's Mostly Comedy at Hitchin Town Hall. It just so happened this was the last show before the coronavirus lockdown prevented live performances from taking place and it already feels like an age ago. I look forward to when we can return for many reasons; not least because it was great to make what was usually my favourite point of the evening - the chance to interview such fascinating people - part of the show. And though this first attempt at chatting informally in front of an audience was a little nervewracking

Here's a little video message from Glyn and me to thank everyone who's donated to the JustGiving page to protect Hitchin Mostly Comedy from closure due to the coronavirus crisis; we're not out of the metaphorical woods yet, but the extraordinary generosity of the club's fanbase has certainly bolstered our chances to keep it going. If you haven't donated yet, don't be shy, as - to use that tired, old phrase - every little helps; throw your bunce in the direction of this link...

I spent much of today editing the latest episode of our More Than Mostly Comedy Podcast - the first new instalment since 2015 - so we can release it later this week. The new episode is exciting for many reasons. Firstly, it's good to be back. Secondly, it features conversations we recorded together yet apart during lockdown, which - thanks to the wonders of modern technology - sound like we're in the same room. And thirdly, it's the first episode to consist of interviews recorded live onstage. See? Three reasons = many . Considering it's our first live interview and the first time we attempted capturing the recording in a challenging gig setting, I'm exceptionally pleased with it. Even without the caveats, it sounds relaxed and is an interesting listen. It helps that both interviewees - Norman Lovett and Kate Robbins - are easy to talk to and have done so many fascinating things. We couldn't have wished for two better subjects to kick-off our live conte

Having become something of a lazy musician of late, I decided to apply some energy into actually improving my skills by buying an electric drumkit so I can work on my drumming. I wouldn't say I'm a drummer so much as someone who can drum a bit, which is wholly in keeping with my 'Jack of all trades, master of none' approach to life and particularly music. My experience is mostly limited to having a quick go on someone else's kit during a rehearsal or a soundcheck. And while I've never sat down to practise, it's certainly something I've always wanted to do. When you're a musician without a lead instrument, like me, it's easy to rest on your laurels and stop improving. I'm the type of person who only stretches himself musically when a job requires it; when I'm working as an actor/musician, I frequently find myself in the role of lead guitarist, bassist or keyboard player, which gives me a reason to focus on that instrument. And whe