Channelling Ted Glen.

Today has been about logistics.

It's now exactly a week to the day that I travel up to Edinburgh. This decampment has snuck up on me like a...thing that sneaks up on you...a velocirapter? That'll do.

One of the biggest stumbling blocks I'm coming up against is how to get everything I need to Scotland when I'm travelling alone. In the past, I've always gone up in a hired vehicle with Glyn, with the boot and backseat packed to the hilt with luggage and equipment. That's not an option this time, as I don't drive. Consequently, I'm trying to streamline the amount of stuff I take with me, while aware that there are certain things that have to get there; by hand or by courier; by hook or by crook.

It doesn't help that the space I'm in doesn't have a projector and screen rigged. Last week, I ordered a new projector as ours finally gave up the ghost at my preview at The George, after eight years of good service. The new one made its debut at last week's Mostly Comedys to a proverbial standing ovation from Glyn and me. Today, I ordered a new screen, as our touring one has long been falling apart. I now have to hope that it arrives in Hitchin when it's due (on Friday), so I can check it works and ship it to Scotland for next week.

I've also been chasing up press admin, which is something I'd sooner not be doing at the eleventh hour, when I should be working on the show. All my plans to use the last few gigless days to finetune the show have gone for nothing, thanks to all this last-minute organisation. On top of this, I'm waiting for an advert I submitted a few days ago asking for flyerers to go live, so I can employ someone to do this for me. None of these things make me funnier, but if they make my time in Edinburgh less stressful and more productive, it will be worth it. I wonder if I can have the end of my show written by algorithm?

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...

'...I'm Gonna Look at You 'til My Eyes Go Blind."

Over the past week or two, I’ve been on a bit of a Sheryl Crow kick, largely thanks to rediscovering her cover of one of my most-liked Bob Dylan songs. She has one of my favourite female voices, yet despite this, I only own one CD and that’s just a single (her '97 release ‘Hard to Make a Stand’); on that basis, you can only imagine how much of her back catalogue I’d own if I hated her (it would fall into minus-figures). Dylan, conversely, takes up more of my collection than anyone else, save The Beatles and Paul McCartney’s solo work. He’s one of those artists who, when you get him, you really get him - and once I’d tuned into his style as a student, I'd time and again be blown away by his lyrics; he’ll have more jaw-dropping imagery in one track than other people fit in a whole career. These days, I mostly listen to music in the morning when getting ready, and more often than not, this will consist of a suggested YouTube playlist when I’m in the bath, r...

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce...

mostly david ephgrave

Search This Blog