mostly david ephgrave

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...

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.

It's no surprise I'd sooner not have a Mostly Comedy to contend with tomorrow - least of all one at a new venue without Glyn - but it is what it is. Part of the problem is I have no time to focus on what I'd like to be doing at the moment, but I never get around to it. Today was a case in point: I managed to fit a lot in, but barely started on the work that was important to me. Sadly, time spent thinking about being funny is almost nonexistent, which isn't helping things; In fact, I'm pretty sure I spent most of today staring at my laptop screen as I tried to make it work. At least Glyn and I managed to drop off most of our equipment at the Town Hall today for tomorrow, which was a preemptive strike. I'm hoping tomorrow will be as easy as possible as I can't fit much more into my head; I'm sure things will fall into place, but I just don't want it all to get out-of-hand; I could just do with a little space to breathe and think.

My mood's not particularly bright at the moment, which is not surprising considering what's been happening in my life recently. I'm feeling pretty defeated; there's so much to do and I don't want to do any of it. This isn't helped by the underlying sense of failure that goes with losing my dad, despite everything we did to try and keep him safe. I know there was no happy ending in store, though he might have still been here if we'd managed to get him to eat and drink or get out of bed; I know this was his responsibility too, but it's hard to keep sight of that when I was so instrumental in his care. On top of this, I'm finding it hard to get my head around Edinburgh. The financial situation's tough, though the crowdfunding's proving fruitful - as we speak, £1505 has been raised - but there's still far to go (as with Thursday's child). And the cost is just a fraction of the bigger picture when a show has to be written, rehearsed a...

I've inevitably cancelled tomorrow's work-in-progress date in Brighton as the situation with my dad's taken over so much I haven't had time to think about it. I'm hoping that scratching the show from my diary will open up time to think about next week's one, though in reality, my dadmin seems set to overwhelm all other plans at the moment. On top of this, a load of interwoven Mostly Comedy work that had to be completed very quickly has taken up what little brain space I had left. My main motivation right now is my dad's safety, but it's proving hard to keep on top of this when he's become so lapse with the basics. Today, my aunt and uncle went over to visit to report back their concerns to my mum, who called me, asking if I could try to get hold of him on the phone as no-one else was having any luck. In the end, I pulled rank by dropping in on the Amazon Echo I bought him primarily for this reason (I always give him the option to answer first but...

Why is it always the most unpleasant things people say to you or the disrespectful treatment that sticks in your mind the most? Yesterday, I was involved in an argument that stemmed from someone not being prepared to take in the content of what was being discussed, yet had the bravado to plough on regardless for the sake of it, like listening would somehow show weakness. It wasn't so much the disagreement that was upsetting, as their refusal to let me reset things at the end of the conversation so we could work together in future without issue. For whatever reason, they decided early on in the meeting we were having - which was our first - that they would not be able to communicate with me in future, so they would sooner cut me out. When I said that was ridiculous, they wouldn't drop it. Everything I'd said up to that point, they had disagreed with, not through any genuine disagreement - as I got the impression they'd barely considered the situation they were going ...

It's probably not surprising I feel largely devoid of comedy right now, what with all the difficult things going on within my family, but today has been a tough day when it comes to my mental health. One of depression's nastiest traits is its relentlessness, and its tendency to make you forget how far you've come when you're in a trough. It's evil like that. So it was for me today, and I would have kept this to myself instead of mentioning it here if I had the energy to filter it. But it took up too much of my day for me to feel able to do that. I'm not usually one for exhibiting the common symptom of lethargy, but I found it hard to lift my head today. I did get a brief hiatus when listening to my old band Big Day Out's 'Seven Heavenly Lemony Lemons from a Seven-Eleven in Devon' CD from 2002 for the first time in years. The recordings are by no means perfect, but I still enjoyed it, and it still made me laugh in the right places; we were definitel...

It's a measure of how stressful the past few weeks of sorting my dad's palliative care have been that I spent an hour looking at a page of figures today when I got home, unable to make head nor tail of it; it's like someone substituted my brain with Pollyfilla. The kindness everyone involved in his care has shown - from friends to medical professionals - has been exceptional. My Dad has a small army of loyal mates, all in their seventies themselves (who my mum accurately described as being, "Like the cast of 'Last of the Summer Wine'") who have gone out of their way to help him. But inevitably the pressure is on my mum and me the most as we try to navigate the difficulties presented both by my dad and his illness; it's a neverending one-step-forward, two-steps-back process that it's hard to keep a handle on, and the fact my dad can be a difficult patient at the best of times makes the whole thing rawer. In some ways, the busyness helps as it do...

I'm struggling a little with my meditation at the moment. For a few years, I've meditated almost daily, though admittedly, I've fallen off a bit recently. Perhaps that's the problem, although I think it's only part of it. While the motivation for meditation's often to calm the mind and ease stress and suffering, most teachers suggest not seeking goals; if a byproduct of your practice is a quieter mind then great, but if it isn't, that's fine too. The aim is to accept what's happening at the present moment and move on.  The reason I do it is to create space; for me, it's a breather. It's so easy to allow things to build to the point where you can't see the wood for the trees, and it's then I tend to step away from what I'm doing for ten minutes or so to restore clarity; it's not about creating false serenity so much as returning to now. Sometimes, distraction plagues your head, and when it does, you're meant to acknow...

I bet you didn't book to attend two screenings of a rare Wings film today to end up missing both. Because let's face it: that's the sort of behaviour that's reserved for me. What's frustrating was I was really looking forward to going until I ran out of time to leave for the first showing; I then booked for the second one on a whim to end up running out of time for that one too. The reason for my tardiness was, as ever, due to Mostly Comedy, when it suddenly became in our interest to get the Dr. John Cooper Clarke show on sale as soon as possible to line up with an advert for his tour in the Guardian Guide this weekend, which for some reason took forever to do. I also had to sort out a few things for my dad before a couple of doctors' appointments on Tuesday and Wednesday, and the race to get this all done before I caught the train to London snowballed in a stressful enough way for me to end up pulling the plug on my McCartney-based jolly; so it was that I m...

Tonight, I cashed in my first metaphorical therapy-dog-chips of the season. I should probably explain: I haven't literally turned my dog into fries and then attempted to barter by using them as a grisly form of currency; I'm pretty sure that would result in a prison sentence. But I did use him as a therapeutic aid after an argument left me overwrought and overloaded, and definitely felt the benefit, with my four-legged friend (the dog) gaining in the process. Sometimes, a breath of fresh air is the best cure for what ails you and a dog-walk is the perfect excuse for this. I usually take Elwood out in the morning for an hour while my wife's at work and she'll do the evening dog-shift (careful how you spell that) but today I took him out twice, and that second walk was just what the doctor - or vet - ordered. One of the biggest advantages to walking him in the evening is I get to see the night skies I'd otherwise miss, and this is particularly the case when I cros...

Today was crunch ‘Project: Pick up a Dog’ day in the Ephgrave household. The most stressful part inevitably was driving home with Elwood (for we've Christened him such) in the car, as the double-whammy of presumably never having travelled by road for long - or at all - combined with the fact he’d only met us a few times previously meant he was very anxious and barky, although his fear seemed to conveniently subside whenever I offered him a treat. Since we’ve been home - and I’m conscious of not wanting to tempt fate - he’s been a ridiculously well-behaved boy. He paced around the flat a few times initially, before tentatively chewing on the antler we bought him for that purpose, but after a walk around the estate when he needed a comfort break he became more relaxed, with the key moment being when he leapt up to join us on the sofa - which shouldn’t really be possible on account of the fact he’s fucking huge - and promptly fall asleep. One's hard at wor...

Every task that needs doing at the moment seems to take me further from working on my show. It didn’t help that I accompanied my dad to the hospital this morning for an appointment that ended up being pointless as the scan results he was there to receive were unavailable. I wanted to be there for moral support, but when you end up waiting the best - or worst - part of two hours for someone to tell you your appointment was meant to be cancelled, but you were the only people left out of the loop, you can’t help but shake your fist at the sky. There then followed various bits of personal and work-related admin to contend with, until before I know it, another day has gone and I hadn’t really progressed. It’s so frustrating; I know I’m going to have to drop everything next week with the exception of Thursday’s Hitchin Mostly, or I’ll never buckle down to the point I feel I have a full sixty minutes. n other news, here's an interview I did last week for West End Wilma about this...

Tonight’s Mostly Comedy had a very special headliner - true to form - in Simon Day and was a great gig all in all, though the last few hours before the show were a little frenetic, so we went into it pretty stressed. June's Hitchin Mostly Comedy line-up: (clockwise from top) Simon Day, Spring Day and Lorna Shaw. If there’s one thing I could eliminate from the whole Mostly Comedy experience it would be the tendency for a race-to-the-finish (or more accurately, a race to the start) with no backstage to disappear to to get your head together for it; just a dressing room would do, rather than slipping into the gents’ (which has the world’s slowest closing outer door) feeling sweaty and low status, hoping you won't first meet meet the main act when they burst in on you in your underwear. Running the club means constantly switching hats, much like that old, chaotic Tommy Cooper sketch, and the lack of a proper backstage area is often the ...

While getting to Brighton today was a little stressful with a cancelled and delayed train along the way, it was worth the effort as the show was a lorra fun (sorry Cilla). My wife and I arrived at the venue less than an hour before kick-off for the usual frenetic set-up, which ended with me putting on my show clothes all sweaty and stressed. Seconds after changing my underwear a punter walked in, which led to a completely crossed-purposes conversation with me trying to explain the house wasn’t open yet that I pitched a little too aggressively. I managed to call him back for some damage limitation, which wasn’t exactly the best way to get into a show mindset. Despite the stressful lead-up, when I started the gig things thankfully clicked. It helped that the audience were onside from the off and seemed more than happy to go along with my off-the-cuff tangents. I love it when it’s like that as gives you something to bounce off of, and gives material the life it often lacks in rehear...

I long to establish a clear working structure to my day, so I can keep track of my achievements instead of feeling the goalposts are constantly moving, and avoid feeling chased, panicked or back-footed by the outside influences that inevitably get in my way. This is one of the downsides to self-employment, particularly when the majority of your work is self-generated; it's hard enough to give yourself time to prepare for an acting (or actor / muso) job for an outside company, let alone when you’re working for yourself. I have a musician friend for whom function gigs provide the majority of his income, yet his partner often forgets the gig is just a fraction of the job as he also needs to learn the music. While she understands this work needs to be done in principle, as far as she's concerned, if he’s at home then he’s available; consequently the majority of his preparatory time is spent doing odd-jobs around the house. I know the feeling, though for a completely differ...

I’m finding it difficult to source the energy to be creative at the moment. The root of the cause, put simply, is it’s been a difficult few months, which have yet to become significantly less challenging. This, combined with a truckload of extra Mostly Comedys (including our shows in St Albans, which kick off this week) have made it hard to devote the requisite headspace to get on with any writing. There's also no-one to chivvy me along or tell me when I’m doing well, which makes it hard to approach what I’m doing with enthusiasm and confidence; that’s not to say I haven’t got a few bits on the back-burner that show promise (and no-one wants to burn their back-bits) though my brain’s so frazzled, I can only work for a few minutes at a time before I’m spent. I feel like a student who’s behind on his coursework, yet can’t be bothered to get on with it, except it’s not so much a case of not being bothered as feeling no-one else cares about what I ...

Today’s Mostly Comedy was strange in that it just sort of happened, despite a slow and disconnected set-up. Hal Cruttenden and Richard Herring; two comics in love. Part of the problem for me was I haven’t recovered from the shock of my dad’s sudden illness at the end of last week, which nearly proved fatal, to improve just as suddenly at it had hit (he says in a gross simplification for the sake of a simple paragraph). Now the adrenalin's settled, I'm feeling brain-shot and anxious, which aren’t ideal bedfellows for doing stand-up in a crowded room; consequently, it took a little while to adapt to the noise, which was a little overwhelming for my mind-state. Despite not feeling my best, I insisted on doing a couple of new bits, if only to start ticking things off the list. It's more for the sake of getting material in my head at first than seeing it if it works, as it’s all more likely to land well when it’s properly learnt. It was pleasing to see we were pret...

For the past few days I’ve been feeling unusually dizzy, which is very frustrating. I’ve mentioned here before that I suffer on-and-off from the balance-related condition labyrinthitis, which first floored me ( almost literally) toward the end of 2010 when I was in the West End musical Dreamboats and Petticoats. It hit me one night while I was on-stage waiting for the curtain to go up for the first half, when all of sudden, I felt like I was going to collapse. I warned the Company Manager instantly, but there was little time to set about the understudy changes for me to come off; I told him I’d be all right, but eventually had to leave the stage at a subtle moment mid-show, as I didn’t feel I had control of the situation, and could easily faint. It was very frightening at the time, as I’d never experienced anything like it. When I went to the doctors’ they explained to me what it most likely was, but warned me that it could take months to pass. Unfortunately they were righ...

Today, I mistook my cat’s snores for my mobile vibrating; I lead a lonely life. (Just like the woman in the Ace of Base song.) I heard it just as I’d finished running my show, and assumed it was my wife calling to say she was on her way home. It turns out it wasn’t, unless she now communicates by channelling her thoughts through the sounds of sleeping felines, which would be weird as well as difficult to orchestrate. What gave the game away was the fact my phone is almost always on silent, particularly when I’m working. I like to assert control over when I have to deal with anything the real world throws at me, as it makes me feel less stressed; I’d recommend this technique to anyone who suffers from anxiety, or is simply too busy, as it helps you to take your foot off the metaphorical gas (which I mean in the American sense; not that I want to dwell on the goings-on in that country at the moment). Maybe my cat was trying to fuck wi...