Monday, January 28, 2008

28/01/08 The "West Wing" of its day....









I was a massive fan of the TV show "Crossroads", and was devastated when it ended.
There were great characters involved, superb plotlines and the acting had a raw emotional edge to it which made it unmissable.
I found this classic clip on Youtube.
It features a typically brilliant performance from my favourite character "Arthur Brownlow".
In this clip, it's all gone off in the Brownlow household as Doris Luke's engagement plans look in danger of coming undone.
(the character of "Doris Luke" was played by Kathy Staff who went on to achieve international fame and fortune through her peerless portrayal of "Nora Batty" in the acclaimed Yorkshire documentary "Last of the Summer Wine ; although she's not actually seen in this clip)
I just got back from getting a refund on a timer for my new boiler.
It's never a dull moment.
It has been something of a long-running saga trying to get the money back.
However, a cutting email which I sent to the supplier, cc'ing the head office, did the trick.
As the refund was getting processed, it was obvious that the guy was quietly raging.
He didn't make any eye contact with me and gruffly re-credited my card.
I was beginning to feel a bit awkward about some of the more stinging sarcastic remarks I'd made on the email relating to the customer service I'd previously experienced.
It's always a lot easier to be blunt on email rather than face to face.
Just as I was leaving, he couldn't stop himself and starting having a pop at me about my "cheeky comments".
I got the impression that if I'd started having a go back, he would have had no hesitation in decking me.
He had that look that boxers have when they try to outstare their opponent just before the fight starts.
I took this as a cue to do a bumbling Hugh Grant impersonation...looking down at the floor, and saying I was sorry and that I didn't mean to cause offence...and shuffled out the shop.
I felt that my "hard man" image had been slightly compromised by this episode.
Still, I got my money back!

Sunday, January 27, 2008

27/01/08 That was the weekend that was




















I got a call last Thursday to do spots on Thursday, Friday and Saturday at The Stand in Edinburgh.
I did a little jig around my flat at the news...I love doing the weekend at The Stand!
Thursday and Saturday were good, solid gigs, but Friday was probably the best reaction I've ever had doing stand-up..I really nailed it....
What sticks in my mind was getting big laughs before I'd even said anything.
It's great having that feeling that you've "got" the audience right from the start, and your comedy sensors inform you that you're going to have a great gig.
The Friday night was my much missed Dad's "unofficial" birthday, and I'd spent a lot of the day thinking about him.
I say "unofficial" birthday, because throughout his life, we always celebrated his birthday on 31st January.
It was late in life when he found out out that although his birth certificate says "31st January", this wasn't true...he was actually born on 25th January.
His father, a miner in Hamilton, had already had 3 daughters, and Jim senior was his first (and only) son...
He was quite partial to a drink apparently, and the celebrations for the birth of his son, went on for a good 3 weeks.
He realised that he'd now illegally delayed the registration of the birth, so basically bullshitted the registrar and changed the birth date to 6 days later.
I love that story...a good bit of improvisation by my Grandpa!
But anyway..ok bully for me...I had some good gigs...but it was just doing a 10 minute set, so I'm not organising no ticker tape parade or nuttin', but it definitely feels that I'm making some progress in the laugh business.
I'm thinking of getting a new telly.
I was down at my brother's gaffe in Manchester over the Festive Season, and he'd bought a ridiculous 46 inch telly.
The problem is that once you spend a few days watching that, you come home and watch your own puny telly and it feels like every programme is "Michael Bentine's Potty Time".
I'm now tempted to buy a 47 inch telly, and see how much I can piss off the aforementioned brother.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

21/01/08 Back in the saddle
















This is my niece Kitty.
I ran through my stand-up routine for her to see what she thought of it.
She said that whilst she found my act "intrinsically very funny", my set as a whole would benefit from having "a more cohesive narrative structure".
These are fair points.
It's amazing how quickly kids develop these days.
I had my first gig of 2008 at The Stand in Glasgow on Sunday.
Being my first gig for a few weeks, I was actually hoping that it would be a reasonably quiet night.
I figured that a Sunday in late January, with credit card bills to pay, and the weather a bit rubbish etc etc it would likely fall foul of the post-Xmas collective hangover syndrome.
I was completely wrong on this and was somewhat surprised to find the venue absolutely packed.
It seems that Sunday is the new Saturday in Glasgow.
The "Performance Anxiety Indicator" rose further when I discovered I was on first.
However, in the end, the gig went great.
But do you want to hear that?
No...of course not...you'd prefer a tale of failure and disaster wouldn't you?
Well, sorry to disappoint you all!
hah! Go find another schmuck to exercise your evil schadenfreude tendencies.
Pathetically, I still haven't been able to get beyond the single cigarette I smoked 2 weeks ago.
I've taken the decision now that I'm just going to give up.
I really can't be bothered with the stress of trying to start smoking again.
I know...I know...you don't have to tell me how weak and feeble-willed I am, but stuff it...I'll just have to live with it.
To add further embarassment (as if I needed to), I've lost half a stone since New Year.
I've started wearing tight fitting t-shirts again in a pathetic attempt to emphasize my retreating flab, but this isn't going to work indefinitely; particularly if I keep up all this pointless exercise which I've sadly become addicted to.
btw "No Country For Old Men" is an excellent film.
In my dotage, fewer and fewer films hold my attention and interest throughout...but this one definitely does.
Although saying that, the woman sitting behind me loudly complained to her husband at the end of the film...
"Well that was a load of CRAP!"
(you can't please everybody though, can you?)

Sunday, January 13, 2008

12/01/08 Flashing Light









So anyway, this week George Bush visited Israel for the first time in his presidency.
He spoke optimistically on the prospects of securing a lasting peace in the region.
Hmmm...
I suspect this represents a rather desperate attempt to finish his 8 year stint on a high and be fondly remembered as the American President who finally managed to broker an Arab/Israeli peace agreement, rather than overseeing the disastrous campaign in Iraq.
He really didn't sound like he believed what he was saying himself.
To use a stand-up comedy analogy, George has been struggling badly with his set...he's been flashed to indicate his time is almost up, and is now scrambling to find a killer joke to quit the stage on a high, hoping that the audience will forget all the preceding unfunny dross.
(they often do)
Bill Clinton tried (unsuccessfully) as well...
"International Peacemaker" provides a better legacy that the "Spunk/Dress/Female Intern" combo.
Talking of which, I was a bit embarassed last night.
I'd read in the "Edinburgh Evening News" that there was an active "Swingers Club" in Tollcross, and decided to go along and check it out.
I actually thought it was an evening dedicated to golf instruction, and was shocked to discover that it in fact involved like-minded sexually liberated people meeting up to indulge in no-strings sexy antics.
Funnily enough, in spite of my mistake, the evening did remind me of golf.
Just as in golf tournaments there was always one annoying person who would shout out "Get in the hole!" at every possible opportunity and really annoy everyone else.
I saw "Bladerunner" at the cinema this week.
It was the first time I'd seen this film in 20 years...
It was something of a "Stoner Favourite" in my 1980s communal flat.
I'd say it stands the test of time pretty well, and considering it was made in the pre-CGI era, it remains an incredible cinematic vision.
...and 2019 doesn't seem all that far away now does it?
To use a stand-up comedy analogy, it's about a comedian whose job it is to kill other fake comedians who use other people's material.
Although in fairness to the replicant comedians, they do actually think they wrote the material, but don't realise that the jokes come from memory implants and are not original thought.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

09/01/08 Country Tales














I'm still struggling with the bug.
I've been stuck on the couch feeling crap and watching endless telly.
I've seen a whole series of programmes this week on food and farming and slaughter practices and the reality of farming and debates on ethics and all that sort of stuff.
A lot of it has been difficult to watch, but I forced myself.
I think everybody should be made aware of certain realities of where our food comes from.
One of the shows was called "Lie of the Land" and it featured the life of a dairy farmer.
He was a likeable sort and it made interesting viewing.
In one scene he supervised a purge on rats with some terriers.
The rats got chased into the open and then the terriers went into a frenzy and fatally munched them.
This reminded me of an episode in my childhood.
My Dad had a job as a headmaster at an "Approved School" (that's "Young Offenders' Institiution" these days).
He was friendly with the caretaker who bred terriers ; and one of the benefits of having the terriers was that it kept the rat population of the premises in check.
I remember him demonstrating how he trained the terriers to go for the rats.
When a terrier pup was 12 weeks old, it was deemed ready for "rat training".
He caught about 20 rats over a couple of days and kept them in a large wooden barrel.
He then dropped the pup in with the rats, put a lid over the barrel and sat on it.
All hell broke loose within the barrel...a deafening cacophony of squeaking and growling and scratching.
After a few minutes there'd be silence and he'd let the pup out.
All the rats inside were dead, and from that moment any time the pup saw a rat it would instantly go into attack mode and kill it.
Isn't that a charming, rural tale?
I'm not saying I approve of this, I'm just submitting evidence.
If one day I'm accused of going on a killing spree at my local Scotmid store, I will testify that witnessing this event as a 7 year old warped my mind, and since that day the "voices" in my head have commanded me to spray the people at the cold meats counter with automatic gunfire.
I'm joking of course!

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

07/01/08 New Regime










Well, unfortunately my new 2008 turbo-charged creative regime has crashed on take-off...
I picked up a bug yesterday.
It's a sore throat/runny nose/watery eye/sneezing fits/generally "feeling a bit shit" combo.
I've done nothing of note since the symptons appeared and am just waiting patiently for it to go away.
Typical...
I watched Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's programme about intensive chicken production.
It's good to see that what goes on at these places is being subject to increasing scrutiny.
I reckon in a 100 years time, people will be stunned to comprehend the cruelty which we've allowed to go on in our quest for cheaper and cheaper mass-produced meat.
There were some comical moments though...
He was asking people at Tesco's if they'd taken advantage of the "2 chickens for a fiver" offer.
One women said yes, and informed HFS that she gave one of the two chickens to her dog.
At one point HFS as getting harangued by a bumptious lady along the lines of "it's ok for you to buy yer organic chicken but we can't afford it etc etc"...
In the words of St William of Connolly, "she was no stranger to a fish supper", and didn't give the impression of being under-nourished.
There was this "healthy" move by a lot of people away from red meat to fish and chicken.
It's bollocks of course.
The factory farmed chicken is full of fat you arses.
Judging by all the radio phone-ins going on, it's rather depressing that for a large percentage of the population, the cheapness justifies everything that goes on in the industry.
Unfortunately, HFS's programme is probably just preaching to the converted.
Talking of prices...I had a problem with my gas boiler...
A man came out to fix it...took him about 15 mins...
101 quid...bastard!
ouch!
I might be forced to get some cheap chickens from Tesco for tea.

Sunday, January 06, 2008

05/01/08 Old





















The Festive Season is now finished. It's official.
As I walked home late last night I passed many a discarded Christmas Tree lying forlornly on the pavement.
It was as if they had all fallen victim to a series of "drive-by choppings".
If I had some chalk, I would have been tempted to draw a crime scene outline of Santa on his sleigh next to one of the trees.
Then I would definitely have gone on to win the Turner Prize and Charles Saatchi would end up buying the exhibit off me for 6 squillion quid.
There were a couple of times during the recent poker match where it really hit me that myself and my fellow players were maybe not quite the hip young gunslingers we used to be.
Someone refused to deal because "leaning over to deal" would hurt his back.
There were one or two failing-eyesight related complaints of not being able to read what the cards were.
There also seemed to be a ridiculous number of trips made to the toilet.
What happened to us?
Perhaps we could get the next match sponsored by a Prostrate Research Organisation and/or "Stairmaster"?
Then last night I found myself droning on in the pub about how the FA Cup is dead in the water, and that football is all about money and nothing else, and how it was different in my day, and that there's no glory any more, and I realised I'd turned into a typical pub boring-old-fart who would have hugely irritated the younger me with his pompous certainty of all that's wrong in the world.
Thankfully, I squandered any gravitas by knocking a full pint of cider over someone as I was making another fascinating point.
I've got a SatNav system now.
There could be some great comedy material here.
I don't think anyone has ever covered this subject before, so that's something to work on in 2008.
Disappointingly, I haven't yet been able to add to the single cigarette I smoked 3 days ago.
I thought I'd cracked it, but looks like I'll have to try and find another opportunity to get the nicotine addiction up and running again.
The good news is my cough is a lot better.
But that's hardly consolation.
The weight gain is going really well though. I've found it surprisingly easy to achieve noticeable results.
I don't know what all the fuss is about.

Saturday, January 05, 2008

04/01/08 I Am Cool




















Well for the second time in the last 3 games I emerged as the overall winner at the "Texas Hold 'Em".
I am clearly an extremely talented player, and found it somewhat galling to be continually labelled a "lucky bastard".
It's all skill and judgement as far as I am concerned.
"Lucky bastard"....!
Ridiculous...
I was also delighted to have to smoked a single cigarette, as well as eaten a big bowl of chilli, even though I had already had my tea.
It was a win/win/win situation.
I had a quiet chuckle at a few things during the match.
There were very vocal directions at the start of the match to keep play moving quickly.
However, any delays in the play always seemed stem from the same players who had earlier proposed the "quick play" regime.
There was a couple of times when a player thought he had won a big pot, but on closer inspection of all the cards, it turned out he's lost.
The turnaround of emotion from triumph to despair in a few seconds was quite a spectacle.
Some people might even go on to say it was hilarious.
I'm not saying that...I'm just saying it was interesting.
I'm not one of these people who laughs at other people's misfortunes.
Having Hogmanay on a Monday is a bit weird...it seems to drag the "Festive Season" on interminably.
In my head, 2008 hasn't really started yet.
It offically starts on Monday when everybody goes back to work.
I would normally be going back to work, but I'm not as my contract finished just before Xmas.
I've got some writing ideas and am going to slavishly write 1000 words every day.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

02/01/08 Same Old Story











Pathetically, I STILL haven't managed to smoke a cigarette in 2008.
In spite of all my good intentions, I have failed...thankfully I still have time on my side.
The "putting on weight" element of my New Year Resolutions has been going really well so far, although I made a bit of an arse of things today as I found myself doing a 3.5 mile run.
What a twat!
If I keep on with this sort of nonsense, I'll end up burning more calories than I actually consume...and that would be really embarassing.
Thankfully I have some people round fro dinner tonight and I have a spare Xmas pudding in the fridge.
We watched the John Wayne film "McLintock" yesterday.
I remember liking this film a lot as a kid, so was interested to see how it would stand the test of time.
Some interesting politics going on in it...
There are a couple of young men competing for the hand of McLintock's daughter Becky.
One has just arrived from New York with some new dance steps to show off.
He also played a musical instrument.
In the context of the film this categorised him as an effeminate, ineffectual buffoon.
Wayne also referred to him disparagingly as "College Boy!", adding "possessing a formal education" to the list of unacceptable qualities for a would-be suitor.
Thankfully, the other young man was an uncomplicated farmer who enjoyed punching people in the face as a form of cultural expression.
McLintock encourages the farmer to thrash his daughter across the backside with a metal shovel.
He then performs the same act on his wife (Maureen O'Hara).
He carries this out after receiving this advice form an old friend ;
"I'm a peaceable man but my father used to say, 'You raise you voice it doesn't do any good... it's time to raise your hand.'"
(a few jaws dropped in my living room at this point!)
There were also a horribly patronising portrayal of a Chinese person, and some sterotyped Indians, as well as every scene having someone slugging from a bottle of Scotch, (apart from "College Boy" of course)
Then McLintock made a speech to his daughter saying she wouldn't inherit his vast estate as he would be giving it back to the Indians.
"Give it back now you thieving big right-wing bastard! Don't have to wait till you're deid!"
Hmmm...life seemed much simpler when I watched this when I was a wee laddie...a

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

01/01/08 Happy New Year!









Ok, my main objectives this year are to put on some weight and increase my overall consumption of cigarettes.
I know I'll never stick to it, but might as well kick off 2008 with some good honourable intentions.
I think in future I'll desist from watching the news on TV during the festive season.
It's been an unrelenting rolecall of tragedy and miserable awfulness for the last 2 weeks.

Though I did enjoy a programme on a couple of nights ago documenting the history of Hogmanay broadcasts on the BBC.
I'd missed most of the shows when they were shown (probably because I was out getting paralytic somewhere), so it was a revelation to witness for the first time some wonderfully disastrous Hogmanay stock footage.
Edinburgh Castle was the backdrop to a hilariously shite "gospel" version of "Flower of Scotland" performed by an American choir.
To be accused of absolutely murdering a song ,which is fairly dreadful to start with anyway, is no mean feat.
Robbie Coltrane doing stand-up and running over-time, ending up talking through the bells was another classic.
I'm not too big on musicals but I enjoyed watching "Oliver!" yesterday.
This is my favourite bit....
I also liked the "Oom Pah Pah" song.
It's set in a pub and has lots of buxom women dancing provocatively on tables as the customers look on.
I sometimes think it'd be great if real life was a little bit like the magic world of musicals, and you could actually go somewhere to experience a joyous event like this at first hand.