mostly david ephgrave

The other day, when running for the train, I slipped on a banana skin. I never believed this was possible; I thought it was an urban myth put around by the anti-fruit brigade to inspire panic. Apparently I was wrong; on the basis of new evidence I can state without fear of hyperbole that the general public are at constant threat from fatal, life-changing, irreversible movement-restricting injuries as a result of irresponsibly discarded peel : just passing a chip shop could result in a catastrophic fall leading to mass limb-removal surgery of the sort that would leave you just a torso and a neck - and all because the staff dispose of their skins in a reckless manner; don’t let it be said that you haven’t been warned. Thankfully my literal run-in with banana peel didn’t result in a man-down incident, merely putting me in a careering yet controllable skid. It was only on glancing back as I continued my station-heading sprint that I saw the unlikely culprit, which led to a o...

Last night I reached a personal low point. I ate a banana just before going to bed (as you do) – and was just about to throw away the skin when I remembered that we now also have a bin specifically for recycling food waste – and for a second, I was genuinely excited by the prospect. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS BECOME. As you get a little older your goalposts start to shift – and your expectation of what constitutes time well spent is lowered considerably. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to recycle a banana skin; it’s deriving pleasure from it that’s a cause for concern. It’s a bit like when I was on tour a few years back and got into the habit of buying a Kit Kat on two-show days. I’d reach a point in the second half of the matinee when my energy levels would dip – then I'd remember the chocolate bar back in my dressing room and my performance would palpably lift. I'd like to think my excitement was justified. It...