mostly david ephgrave

Tonight's the second time in my life that I've become unreasonably excited on remembering I have a Kit Kat in my bag.  That's not to say there haven't been occasions when I've achieved acceptable levels of joy at the thought of a two-or-four-fingered treat (INSERT YOUR OWN PUNCHLINE HERE). I'm certainly never disappointed by the prospect - but it's fair to say that tonight's moment of realisation gave me a spring in my step that's seen me through the rest of the day (at time of writing, we have four minutes left).  The last time this happened was in 2003, when I was on tour with The Roy Orbison Story. It was in the midst of a matinee on a two-show day, after a very long week, that the fact I'd bought a chocolate bar earlier came back to me. The moment is seared in my memory. I was on stage at the time, wearing a white rollneck and a black suit jacket, playing the bass part to Mean Woman Blues. I'm sorry to say that the thought of that ...

For some reason I'm never able to make people understand what I’m saying. It happens all the time, so much so that I’ve started to account for it. I’ll walk into a situation with a readily-prepared statement in my head – and consciously take my time when saying it; trying to allow for the inevitable confusion that follows in my wake. Even all this forward-thinking doesn’t seem to help; more often than not, I still end up with conversational egg all over my face. It occurs most frequently in bars and restaurants. A good example took place a couple of months ago. I’d met up with a friend in a local pub - and, as I’m generally not drinking alcohol at the moment, I decided to have a hot drink instead. I walked up to the side of the bar where the coffee machine was situated. Behind it stood a big sign that said ‘Speciality Teas Available’. I’m a bit of a herbal tea nut, so this was right up my street. A surly, monosyllabic barm...

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...