Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Got My Mojo Back

Well, I was granted redemption and had a rocking gig at The State Bar in Glasgow on Saturday night; finally getting this cursed monkey off my back.
The journey to the gig had an inauspicious start.
Driving out of Edinburgh, I decided to recite my act, as I’d been having trouble lately remembering the correct sequence, having
recently switched some of the set around.
This was all going fine, but unfortunately my mind wandered from the job in hand, and I found myself on the Edinburgh Bypass
heading towards Berwick-on-Tweed.
I’d driven straight past the M8 turn-off. This was unprecedented, (that means it’s never happened before).
Anyway, I had to drive a good few miles in the opposite direction before I was able to turn around and once more head in the direction
of Glasgow.
From having plenty of time, I was now on a fairly tight schedule.
I got a bit bogged down in Glasgow city centre, and it was now 5 minutes till showtime, I’d still to find a parking place, and I was due on first.
I hate this sort of scenario, and tend to arrive early and swan about for a while before the show.
I got parked then sprinted towards the venue…
It was 8.45pm, the advertised start time…
When I arrived, I was the first person there…apparently the show wasn’t now starting till 9.30pm…Marvellous!
45 minutes of completely unnecessary stress.
I really enjoyed the show though.
It was a great crowd, and a pleasure to play to.
I’d spent the previous evening watching with fascination as Mojo the Chihuahua enthusiastically played with Ziggy the 12 week old kitten at my friend’s house,(they come from two different families)
It was a great example of communal living by natural enemies.
I think Ziggy and Mojo should be hired by the “United Nations” and perform in all the World’s trouble spots in front of the various political leaders involved in all long-running, intractable conflicts.
Having just signed up to Facebook, I extended my continuing years-out-of-date approach to embracing fads by trying out the Wii product range.
I triumphed at golf, but was soundly whipped at tennis, bowls and boxing.
I also aggravated my sore shoulder as a result of the manic, flailing about of punching during the boxing Wii.
Coincidentally, I almost had a real-life boxing match yesterday with a cyclist in Edinburgh.
Dressed all in black, and with no lights, I didn’t see him speeding towards me as I crossed Maitland Street, (it was semi-darkness)
“Dickhead” he shouted as he had to brake and swerve past me.
“You’re the dickhead! Where’s your lights?” I shouted at him at the top of my voice (slightly startling an elderly lady who was walking past me)
About 50 yards further on, I watched him stop the bike, dismount and start heading purposefully towards me.
He looked well over 6ft and quite well-built.
I decided to use the psychology of walking towards him to demonstrate that I wasn’t feart.
It’s a technique I saw used by a man who used to live alongside grizzly bears in Canada, (it worked for a while but he was eventually eaten alive)
We then went face to face…
I said “I didn’t see you..you’ve no lights”
“It’s not dark” he said.
“So why has every car passing got their lights on I said?” (it was very much a “Rumpole of the Bailey” moment)
Then there was a pause as we just stared at each other.
“Why don’t you kiss my arse!” he said aggressively.
At this I just laughed and said “very good!” very good!” and walked away.
I was half-expecting an attack, but it never came.
Whenever I find myself in a situation like this (quite often), I ponder on whether I should really learn some martial arts stuff for self-defence.
The thing is, I reckon you’ll get into more trouble if you have these skills because you’d be less likely to defuse the situation, motivated by self-preservation.
Maybe, I should just take more care crossing the road?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Strum Enchanted Evening?

Well last night’s gig was always going to be tricky.
I thought I did ok-ish, but it was hard work.
The show at the Voodoo Rooms is predominantly an open-mic musical event, featuring a succession of acoustic singer-songwriters performing 3 songs each.
The compere cheerily introduces the acts, but the overall tone of the evening is quite earnest.
To parachute stand-up comedy in the middle of a show like this is something of a challenge ; a challenge which I was happy to accept, as it’s definitely worthwhile to get out of the comedy club “comfort zone” and test your act on an audience who have not been warmed up by a comedy compere, or perhaps have not even anticipated that there was a scheduled comedy element on the bill.
I was highly impressed by the quality of the musicians. There was some really excellent stuff, and regardless of how my act went, I thoroughly enjoyed the evening..
I did feel I possibly lost a few of the audience even before I got on stage though.
A young male act deadpanly introduced an instrumental piece by informing the audience that he’d written it especially for his girlfriend and was originally intending playing it on a local radio station on Valentine’s Day and dedicating it to her.
He then went on to lament that his girlfriend had unexpectedly ended their relationship earlier this week.
There were a few suppressed titters at this tragic revelation, but I involuntarily loudly guffawed, and attracted several withering glances.
Being an alleged comedian, I was anticipating a punchline, and when it didn’t appear my big laugh reverberated around the room, as my brain computed “jeezo…! he’s serious!”.
There were pockets of the audience giggling away merrily during my act, but there were also quite a lot of blank, non-comprehending expressions.
It probably would have worked better if I’d tried to write some material specifically about the musical open-mic phenomenum.
As a form, it seems to have really exploded, and there must be a lot of humour to extract from it.
I did feel awkward in that some of the preceding acts had described their aspirations for a “raised level of consciousness” to save mankind, with many other worthy sentiments of peace, love and understanding.
I’m not saying I disagree with these ideals, just that it felt a bit odd in context, to be bemoaning my Grandfather’s blocked toilet.
I did mention that I felt I’d inadvertently emptied a large bucket of shit into the “stream of consciousness” which had pervaded the evening.
That got quite a big laugh.
The puns got a lot of groans.
This is always a sign of a troublesome gig for me, in that the audience are reacting solely to the admittedly, often awful punchlines, rather than, ,for example, finding the concept of someone walking around all day with a pot of pasta attached to their foot, intrinsically amusing.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

CSb RIP








I think most people are probably bored reading about anything with “credit crunch” references in it, (I know I am).
However, I have to admit I’m pretty shocked at what is going on in central Edinburgh.
As I take a lunchtime stroll around Tollcross, I notice with each passing day more and more businesses collapsing.
The only firm that seems to be doing quite well at the moment is the one which manufactures the “To Let” signs.
They must be selling like the proverbial cakes of the hot variety.
Many of the restaurants in this area no longer even bother to open at lunchtime, and those that do are virtually empty.
The “Festival Alehouse” and “Scruffy Murphys” bars have closed, (admittedly no great loss, but they seemed reasonably busy compared with many other bars).
The musical instrument shop next to the King’s Theatre has now closed (can’t remember its name).
If things carry on at this rate, the only businesses still open will be the big Coffee chains, and a couple of Poundstretchers.
Although maybe a few more charity shops will start up? (just what Edinburgh needs).
More bad news emerged this morning when I discovered that my beloved snowboarding haven “CSb Chalet Snowboard” has gone out of business.
This is a total disaster as there is nothing else like it on the snowboarding market.
I may have lost millions on misplaced share deals recently, but this is ultimately more painful.
Csb ran a dedicated snowboarding chalet near the Avoriaz resort.
What made it unique was that the people who ran the chalet were also all top boarders, who would act as guides and take you all over the resort, including to a lot of off-piste areas, where their local knowledge was invaluable.
Everybody at the chalet boarded together, ate and drank together ; and although you’d get the odd mentalist, 99.9% of the residents were great people.
I’ve been there 5 times, and I’m gutted to hear of its demise.
I’ve had some fantastic times there over the years, and it’s just not the same anywhere else.
What is particularly annoying is that in Canada last year, I finally ditched my old board, got a Burton T6 on Ebay and totally transformed my snowboarding abilities, and was really looking forward to doing another CSb holiday to consolidate my gains.
Pah!
A couple of years ago, myself and a couple of aquaintances were toying with the idea of taking over the lease of the “Holyrood Tavern” .
In spite of all my financial disasters of late, the fact that this never came to fruition represents a great escape.
In the current economic climate, re-launching the Holyrood would have been a financial catastrophe beyond imagination.
Phew!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Pow!













Hurtin’ my back
On the way to the gym
…”
Of course, that could be a couple of lines from “Isn’t It Ironic” by Alanis Morrisette, if it was actually about irony…
But it isn’t, it’s what happened to me yesterday.
I thought I would start the week positively, in a blaze of smug glory, by going to the gym at work.
I also had to carry my laptop in to work as it’s been acting up and I wanted to take it to the repair shop at lunchtime.
So, while walking up the street and carrying this lopsided load, something tweaked in my back and the gym visit had to be cancelled on disability grounds.
And now I’m hobbling about in pain.
Those of you in your early 70s will remember the BBC series “Colditz”.
On Sunday night, I found myself watching a whole episode on Youtube, (I am living the dream).
The episode I was watching is generally regarded as the most memorable one, and has been repeated many times over the years.
It’s called “Tweedledum” and is the story of one of the POWs who feigns insanity in an attempt to be repatriated.
It features a brilliant performance by Michael Bryant as “Wing Commander Marsh”, the central character.
I enjoyed watching it again, but was somewhat dumbfounded that the very end of the episode was missing.
It’s fair to say that the end is quite important.
It involves “Colonel Preston” (the senior British officer at Colditz) reading a letter he has just received from Marsh’s wife.
The upshot is that by spending so long appearing to have cracked, he has had a genuine mental breakdown and is now permanently
hospitalised in England, with no hope of recovery.
It’s quite a powerful ending.
However, today’s generation of Youtube viewers will think that “Tweedledum” completely fooled the Germans with his cunning plan, and lived happily ever after back home in dear old Blighty.
(It’s probably what would have happened had Hollywood made a version of the tale)
It can be quite misleading missing the end of films and stuff.
Imagine you’d walked out of “The Sting” just as Paul Newman and Robert Redford were shot?
You’d think it was a rather tragic and abrupt end, to what had been quite a jolly film up till that point.
Or you might have left “Snow White” before the end, and felt pained to realise that she was going to spend eternity sleeping in a glass case…very sad!
Robert Wagner was in “Colditz”, although he only ever has about one line an episode to say…(I wonder how much he got paid?)
I laughed more than I have just about ever laughed at anything last night watching Irish comic Paul Currie at The Stand.
He did a lip-sync to the “Hart to Hart” theme (starring Robert Wagner ; what a flawless link…) with an embarrassed-looking couple forced to join him on stage.
The theme is funny in itself, but when he mimed “when they got together….it was moidah!!!!” , and then froze for a couple of minutes while the rest of the theme played out…well, I nearly had a fit.
Beautiful stuff…
My “Chairman Mao” watch has attracted a lot of admiring interest.
Unfortunately, it loses approximately 10 minutes in every hour.
There should be a joke there somewhere?
Gordon Alexander made one last night, but I have managed to forget it.
Something about “a cultural step back in time”.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

well hello there China!

My sister has just returned from a month long holiday in sunny China.
She has brought me back a great watch which has an image of Chairman Mao waving his hand on the face.
It is the best watch ever. Hilarious.
She did a 2 day tour of Beijing and complimented her tour guide on China's overall organisation of the Olympics.
She also mentioned that the Paralympics were impressively staged as well.
At this the tour guide said "I didn't like the Paralympics"
Puzzled, my sister asked "Why?"
The guide replied "I don't think it is right to make people with one leg to race each other...it is cruel!"
Hmmm...now that is a puzzling, yet highly interesting take on things!
My niece Kitty (2) now routinely asks my brother ; "Have you sold your house yet?"
(it has been on the market for quite a long time)
This is very funny too.

Saturday, February 07, 2009

Punctured bicycle on a hilltop desolate

So anyway, last night at the Heresy Comedy Club was pretty much up there on the “Jim Park disastrous, crash-and-burn gigs roll of dishonour”.
It was always going to be difficult.
I was on first. (It’s like assuming the role of the Star Trek crew member you don’t recognise, going off on a reconnaissance mission).
The bulk of the audience comprised of some kind of works night out thing, where the men were, without exception,acting like the most annoying, surly, ignorant adolescent twats.
It was clear from the start that they wanted the show to be entirely about them, and that they weren’t interested in listening to material of any sort.
There followed an extended, hideous demonstration of showing-off and one-upmanship between them.
To a certain extent I could compare my experience with that of Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III.
When a couple of banker jokes failed in the opening minutes of my act, you could make an analogy with Chesley’s plane smashing into a flock of Canadian Geese.
It was at this point that we both realised we were in trouble.
The other comedians on the bill (Rob Kane, Elaine Malcolmson and Mark Nelson), did a much better job than me of stepping outside their material (athough, more or less forced to), and taking on the heckling idiots.
I tried this once at my disastrous State Bar gig, trading insults merrily for 25 minutes, but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not really my bag.
So I gamely ploughed on with my material.
If myself and Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III. had swapped places ; rather than land the plane safely on the Hudson River, I would have steered the plane
straight into the foyer of the Rockefeller Center with catastrophic consequences.
As well as the adolescent idiots, a psychotic-looking woman in the front row seemed furious about my Islamic Terrorist “You’ve Been Framed” TV special joke ; repeatedly shouting “I KNOW people there…! I KNOW people there..!” (continuing long after I’d finished that bit).
Experience informs you when a gig is beyond rescue, so I cut the set short and beat a hasty retreat.
Chesley was hailed as a great American hero.
I wasn’t.
If I'd taken out a sub-machine and sprayed the front rows with bullets, I would have been entirely justified.
The tabloids would have a field day with the man who was a "lifesaver" last week becoming a mass murder the following week.
It would make a great film too.
My next engagement is at a “spoken word” event in which I am the only comedian, and will be performing a 15 minute set.
Before last night, with a high confidence rating, I had no worries at all about taking on something like this.
However, now the doubts have set in again.
Carey Marx did a line last night about getting into a train carriage full of Chinese peopl that had me howling with laughter.
First time I've seen him...sublime stuff.


It’s a right old laugh isn’t it?