mostly david ephgrave

Yesterday, I put down the deposit for my Edinburgh digs, thus setting in stone the fact I’m doing the Fringe Festival solo for the second year running. I’ve known with a degree of certainty for a week or so, though if I’m honest, it was highly unlikely I wouldn’t have gone again. I’d feel I was losing a year if I didn’t, and while in an ideal world Doggett & Ephgrave would be there too, with me doing a solo show as a less pressured side project, that isn’t feasible at the moment; I may as well wave our flag in the meantime, and keep a hand in for both of us. The good thing is, I’ve engendered it so most of the stuff that worked for me last time will be the same again; I’ve booked the same flat I stayed in last year, and the same venue at the same time slot. I considered opting for a later start-time, but on balance, I’m not sure I would have gained a lot for the increased cost; I’d sooner spend the money on good PR and flyerers (who did sterlin...

So 2016 draws to a close, and what a year it’s been. I’m not going to delve into the political upheaval of the past twelve months as, if I did, it would dominate this blog post and bring the mood down. I also won’t dwell on the sad loss of so many influential figures in the public eye; a list so long, it's very easy to miss people off. On a personal level, the year has been mixed. The biggest step was taking my second solo show to my first solo Edinburgh Fringe. This was a huge leap of faith that was terrifying to comprehend as it drew closer, yet I came out the other side of that 24-date run largely unscathed, having genuinely enjoyed it. I can’t thank my wife and family enough for their unflinching support as I cycled in and out of confidence, and my friends (and Best Men) Glyn Doggett and Stephen Halliday for their advice, time and feedback; they’re all in my Last Will and Testament, though my estate is such that they won’t wind up with much...

While I’ve been practising meditation for quite some time now, I’ve recently taken to using the mindfulness app 'Headspace' . If you’ve never meditated before, or you’re an old hand at it, it’s a great resource, offering daily ten-minute guided meditations that create a sense of progress, rather than stagnating and going through the same process every day. Until I started using the app, I’d often listen to a handful of audio guided meditations I have on my phone in case of a brain emergency. If you see me with my eyes closed and my earphones in on public transport, I’m probably doing this (unless I’m sleeping and using this blog as an elaborate alibi). While the tracks on my phone are great, they can get a little repetitive as I become too familiar with them and start to anticipate everything the person on the recording will say. This is where Headspace is great, as it offers you a daily course with a different focus each day, as well as pl...

Because I’m an ego-manic, I’ll often Google my own name. I say “often” as it makes for a sharper, more direct way into this blog post, when in reality, I only do it occasionally (unless I’m in a show, when the words ‘David Ephgrave review’ are typed with alarming regularity; so much so, I should set up a keyboard shortcut). Today, in a break from a piece I started writing but lost faith in, I looked myself up, to have a couple of interviews I did to promote my recent Edinburgh show surface: one for Moody Comedy and the other for British Comedy Guide .   I found it interesting to read them back now I’ve gained a little distance from the Fringe. You can check them out yourself below, though only if you agree to do imitate my voice in your head as you read it; if you've never heard me speak, imagine the sound of a man who grew up in Stevenage, then went on to form too many aspirations.

This morning, before catching the train home from Edinburgh (which I'm still on as we speak; delayed, of course), I took a taxi to the Parcelforce depot and back to my digs, to send my projector, screen and the rest of my equipment down south. Thankfully, this went pretty seamlessly, which was good, as I was worried something would slow me down and make me miss my train. While there weren't any problems to stall me, the journey was eventful, which I documented for posterity on Twitter. See below a blow-by-blow account of my trip; who says my blog isn't a fascinating and useful resource? 8:55am: Passing through Edinburgh in a taxi to drop off my props at the Parcelforce depot. It's already a ghost town comparatively, post-EdFringe. 9:04am: Passing a shop called Better Tiles. Than whom? 9:05am: Passing Black Dog Barbers. Tailoring specifically to a depressed Winson Churchill? 9:06am: ...and SuperNews. For SuperTed? ...

I bet you didn't start your day by being threatened by a man from Scottish Gas. At just after 9 o’clock, I lifted the receiver on the security door at my digs to answer the doorbell. “Hello?” I said. Nothing. “Hello?” I repeated. Still nothing. I would have hung up, but as I missed the post the other day, I thought I’d take the risk and buzz the culprit in. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, to reveal a guy in blue overalls on the other side. “I’m here from Scottish Gas and I need to change your meter.” I started trying to explain to him that I wasn’t the long-term tenant or the property owner and therefore couldn’t authorise the work, when he spotted the meter above me in the hallway. Before I could finish my sentence, he’d crossed the threshold without my permission and was inside the flat. He told me that if I didn't let him do the work, he’d call the police. I explained ...