mostly david ephgrave

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...

We've had so many lovely messages from everyone who's donated to protect Mostly Comedy through its enforced break. At the point of writing, fifty-eight people have contributed to the fund , raising £1340, which is enough to pull us through the current crisis for a good few months at least. Without it, the risk of closure pressed worryingly, which put me in the frightening position of losing my income overnight. As it stands, I won't be paying myself for a while, but I can at least reimburse a few of the running costs I've been covering from my pocket. But it isn't just about the money, though that's important. It's the evidence of how many people care about the club and would be upset if it went. We knew it was popular as it usually sells well, but as it's grown and its audience has changed through the years, you start to assume it's just a commodity that serves a purpose at time-of-use and that's it. And if it closed, people would make...

For the second time in a year, I've turned to JustGiving to help me through a financial plight; last time it was to contribute to the funding-hole left for Edinburgh when my dad's estate was frozen after he passed away; this time, it's to bolster Mostly Comedy through the coronavirus situation. Like so many industries, the COVID-19 pandemic has thrown live events into crisis. Suddenly, the future of venues & gigs looks worryingly unsustainable. Sadly, that's the case for Mostly Comedy too. Glyn and I run the club as self-employed performers on a low income. As it stands, Mostly makes just enough money to sustain each consecutive event and our running costs, but its survival relies on (1) the gigs going ahead, and (2) our taking little money from it. And when the money isn't there, we plug the gap. Until our shows can continue, the club has no money coming in (our ticket provider holds all funds until a week after each show). Meanwhile, our running c...

I don't feel much momentum at the moment; everything's at a standstill. When I did the only preview that went ahead this year, I found energy I hadn't expected that drove the show along and made me feel I could still do Edinburgh, despite  the inevitable impact of the loss of my dad and the circumstances around it ; that, plus the money donated, showed I had support from an unseen audience. However, the project was inevitably on a knife-edge and still vulnerable to collapse; it was a delicate balance susceptible to sabotage from extra pressure. And that's what happened: I hit a familiar brick wall. The inability to strike a temporary compromise with a close relative over my dad's estate made me feel unable to leave home for a month with everything in flux, so I cancelled the run with a few days' notice at a cost of over £6000. And not only did the relative never mention the cancellation or the fact I was meant to be doing Edinburgh at all  until a ...

Today, the Edinburgh fundraising machine (which may be overselling it) saw donations pass the £2000 mark, which was splendid, although there's still a long way to go (says the eternal pessimist). One thing that should certainly help things along is an article about my predicament, which was published on the BBC News website this afternoon . It came about, following a conversation with the journalist Alex Pope after being alerted to the situation after seeing my story pop up on Twitter; proof once again of the positive power social media can have. We spoke with me firmly in the knowledge that nothing may come from our chat, but it was another metaphorical iron in the fire, so to speak. I can't help but wonder what my dad would have made of the attention levelled in his direction if you could remove the context. I'm pretty sure he would have been flattered, proud and pleased that it was helping me. I know he would be frustrated to have been part of the cause of my pr...