Saw her last night at the Queens Hall. Excellent stuff. Basically just talking over atmospheric, percussive tape loops, punctuated by her playing an electronic violin.
Her voice has a deeply hypnotic, mesmeric quality to it.
All this certainly wouldn't work if she had an irritating voice.
If Jonathon Ross had been the narrator, I'd have left after 5 minutes.
I'd never seen her before, but would heartily recommend her to my readers.
Some great angles on 9/11, beauty and NASA.
The trouble with the Queens Hall is that the temperature is within the realms of a blast furnace, and there are inevitable moments when your concentration lapses as you struggle to avoid nodding off. But overall, a top notch show.
Carrying on my avant garde theme I am following this up tomorrow by going to see Karl Heinz Stockhausen at the same venue.
Looks like we have a 3rd person for the "Park's Circus" Fringe show. An Irish bloke called Patrick Hyland has signed up. We now have an Englishman, a Scotsman and an Irishman. There's a joke there...!
Well, hopefully at least one over the course of the 70 minutes.
I'm looking forward to it now.
I've decided that we will all rock!
The End.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
28/04/05 Tally Ho!
Just caught the tail end of Tony Blair getting harangued by the public "live" on BBC1s "Question Time".
I've never seen him look so uncomfortable. He was getting the usual Iraq, NHS stuff and was sweating profusely and looking ill at ease. Like a hunted animal.
Ironic since he'd recently banned hunting.
It's definitely a feature of UK life that politicians are loathed beyond measure. There is no deference to the position of "Prime Minister". You get the impression that the spitting, snarling mob would love to grab him and rip him apart.
I don't think an elected leader would get such a hard time in any other western country.
In the US, there is a massive opposition to Dubya, but there is always an underlying respect and deference to the actual office of President, regardless of who the current encumbent is.
In some ways our cynicism is a good thing. In other ways I'm not sure if I like it.
We're all very dismissive and sneering of anyone in public office. Admittedly it is often deserved, but personally there's loads of things ole TB has done that I think have merit (I'm not going to bother listing them, out as I don't want to sound like a party political broadcast),
and having lived through the Thatcher years and the Blair years, I know which I prefer.
Well that wasn't very funny was it?
No-one said comedy had to be funny...that's all I've got to say really.
I've never seen him look so uncomfortable. He was getting the usual Iraq, NHS stuff and was sweating profusely and looking ill at ease. Like a hunted animal.
Ironic since he'd recently banned hunting.
It's definitely a feature of UK life that politicians are loathed beyond measure. There is no deference to the position of "Prime Minister". You get the impression that the spitting, snarling mob would love to grab him and rip him apart.
I don't think an elected leader would get such a hard time in any other western country.
In the US, there is a massive opposition to Dubya, but there is always an underlying respect and deference to the actual office of President, regardless of who the current encumbent is.
In some ways our cynicism is a good thing. In other ways I'm not sure if I like it.
We're all very dismissive and sneering of anyone in public office. Admittedly it is often deserved, but personally there's loads of things ole TB has done that I think have merit (I'm not going to bother listing them, out as I don't want to sound like a party political broadcast),
and having lived through the Thatcher years and the Blair years, I know which I prefer.
Well that wasn't very funny was it?
No-one said comedy had to be funny...that's all I've got to say really.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
27/04/05 Graffiti
According to Mitch someone has daubed graffiti on a fence at Dalkeith Country Park,
(an idyllic spot, popular with picnicking families).
The offending graffiti says "POPE = NIGGER".
The author obviously has a diversified portfolio of prejudice, combining racial and religious bigotry. He/she must have been moved by the recent machinations involved in electing a new pontiff, and felt a need to comment publicly on his/her opinions on the relative worthiness of God's "Emissary on earth".
In the absence of a successful removal of this graffiti, it could perhaps be altered to lessen its general offensiveness?
I'd thought initially of changing it to "POPE = SNIGGER".
This removes the racist component completely. It could be inferring positively, that the Pope has a very good sense of humour, and furthermore that any amount of time in his company is likely to produce a good snigger or chortle of some kind.
However, it may be interpreted negatively as a sneering reference to the Pontiff, in the sense that he and his position, are a figure of fun, and not worthy of serious contemplation. So this remedy wouldn't be entirely satisfactory.
My other thought would be to turn the slogan into a complex algebraic equation, eg (Pope - 1)/3.5 = (6.2 * Nigger)/(3a + 2b)
This would be seen as a revolutionary use of Mathematics to dilute the offensiveness quotient of ned graffiti purveyors.
One of the main criticisms of learning Mathematics at school is that there is very little demonstration of the practical application of the concepts taught.
This would surely go a long way to alleviating this unsatisfactory situation.
(an idyllic spot, popular with picnicking families).
The offending graffiti says "POPE = NIGGER".
The author obviously has a diversified portfolio of prejudice, combining racial and religious bigotry. He/she must have been moved by the recent machinations involved in electing a new pontiff, and felt a need to comment publicly on his/her opinions on the relative worthiness of God's "Emissary on earth".
In the absence of a successful removal of this graffiti, it could perhaps be altered to lessen its general offensiveness?
I'd thought initially of changing it to "POPE = SNIGGER".
This removes the racist component completely. It could be inferring positively, that the Pope has a very good sense of humour, and furthermore that any amount of time in his company is likely to produce a good snigger or chortle of some kind.
However, it may be interpreted negatively as a sneering reference to the Pontiff, in the sense that he and his position, are a figure of fun, and not worthy of serious contemplation. So this remedy wouldn't be entirely satisfactory.
My other thought would be to turn the slogan into a complex algebraic equation, eg (Pope - 1)/3.5 = (6.2 * Nigger)/(3a + 2b)
This would be seen as a revolutionary use of Mathematics to dilute the offensiveness quotient of ned graffiti purveyors.
One of the main criticisms of learning Mathematics at school is that there is very little demonstration of the practical application of the concepts taught.
This would surely go a long way to alleviating this unsatisfactory situation.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
26/04/05 Snookered
I don't tend to watch snooker much. However, on account of the appalling nature of the prevailing meteorological conditions yesterday, and as I had a slight sore head from the previous evening at the esteemed Stand Comedy Club, I made an exception.
Since tobacco sponsorship was banned, the prize money has drastically shrunk.
It has gone from "Who Wants To Be A Millionnaire" type sums to the current equivalent of , "Here's Your Crackerjack pencils!" ( CRACKERJACK! )
The best player Ronnie O'Sullivan is clearly clinically insane. Steve Davis is still bumbling along in his dotage. Jimmy White looks like the 60 fags and a bottle of vodka a day diet is finally catching up with him. Stephen Hendry is clinically depressed. Peter Ebdon could have a blossoming career as a ruthless serial killer, should he wish to retire from his life on the green baize. Dennis Taylor is still not very funny really. Hazel Irvine is nauseatingly chirpy. The BBC Production team are desperately trying to make snooker look sexy again by overlaying moody trance anthems on action clips. It's not working.
The selling of advertising on waistcoats further increases the tacky awfulness.
Not that I'm one to complain.
I do actually quite like snooker. I spent most of my University life in the snooker hall. I feel its TV appeal is waning though.
Since tobacco sponsorship was banned, the prize money has drastically shrunk.
It has gone from "Who Wants To Be A Millionnaire" type sums to the current equivalent of , "Here's Your Crackerjack pencils!" ( CRACKERJACK! )
The best player Ronnie O'Sullivan is clearly clinically insane. Steve Davis is still bumbling along in his dotage. Jimmy White looks like the 60 fags and a bottle of vodka a day diet is finally catching up with him. Stephen Hendry is clinically depressed. Peter Ebdon could have a blossoming career as a ruthless serial killer, should he wish to retire from his life on the green baize. Dennis Taylor is still not very funny really. Hazel Irvine is nauseatingly chirpy. The BBC Production team are desperately trying to make snooker look sexy again by overlaying moody trance anthems on action clips. It's not working.
The selling of advertising on waistcoats further increases the tacky awfulness.
Not that I'm one to complain.
I do actually quite like snooker. I spent most of my University life in the snooker hall. I feel its TV appeal is waning though.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
25/04/05 Ginger
I've always loved Ginger. Not Ginger Rogers the dancer. No, the plant itself.
Ginger Beer is the king of carbonated refreshments in my book, ("Ginger Beer - The King of Carbonated Refreshments" by J. S. Park, available in all good book shops)
When I was a callow teenager I used to make my own ginger beer.
My parents discouraged this practice after several bottles exploded in my bedroom one night like mortars. Thankfully, my sorrow at losing all the ginger beer, was not compounded by any collateral human casualties.
I was actually sitting, strumming a guitar right next to one of the bottles as it exploded, and to this day fail to comprehend how I avoided getting so much as a scratch. This was reminiscent of the scene in "Pulp Fiction" where the 2 hitmen survive a frenzied burst of shooting from a friend of "Brad" (as in, "check the brain on Brad!" and "eating a Big Kahoona Burger").
This caused the Samuel Jackson character to seize on the event as one of great religious significance, and a signal from above to get out of the Hitman business.
I was just pissed off that all my ginger beer had gone, and that I faced a not insubstantial task in clearing up my room.
To any other Ginger Beer aficionados, I recommend the "quick" Ginger Beer recipe from Mr Jamie Oliver.
Just grate some fresh ginger (no need to peel), mix up with lemon juice, lemon peel and muscavado sugar. Add soda water, stir, leave for 10 minutes, then pour through sieve into a jug. Add some fresh mint. And enjoy the great taste of ginger beer.
Fortunately there is no chance of this form of ginger beer exploding.
So there you go...jokes, amusing anecdotes ...now even feckin' recipes...what more could the discerning blog reader look for?
Ginger Beer is the king of carbonated refreshments in my book, ("Ginger Beer - The King of Carbonated Refreshments" by J. S. Park, available in all good book shops)
When I was a callow teenager I used to make my own ginger beer.
My parents discouraged this practice after several bottles exploded in my bedroom one night like mortars. Thankfully, my sorrow at losing all the ginger beer, was not compounded by any collateral human casualties.
I was actually sitting, strumming a guitar right next to one of the bottles as it exploded, and to this day fail to comprehend how I avoided getting so much as a scratch. This was reminiscent of the scene in "Pulp Fiction" where the 2 hitmen survive a frenzied burst of shooting from a friend of "Brad" (as in, "check the brain on Brad!" and "eating a Big Kahoona Burger").
This caused the Samuel Jackson character to seize on the event as one of great religious significance, and a signal from above to get out of the Hitman business.
I was just pissed off that all my ginger beer had gone, and that I faced a not insubstantial task in clearing up my room.
To any other Ginger Beer aficionados, I recommend the "quick" Ginger Beer recipe from Mr Jamie Oliver.
Just grate some fresh ginger (no need to peel), mix up with lemon juice, lemon peel and muscavado sugar. Add soda water, stir, leave for 10 minutes, then pour through sieve into a jug. Add some fresh mint. And enjoy the great taste of ginger beer.
Fortunately there is no chance of this form of ginger beer exploding.
So there you go...jokes, amusing anecdotes ...now even feckin' recipes...what more could the discerning blog reader look for?
24/04/05 Shocking Golf
I had to get to Peebles by 9.30am. And on a Sunday morning as well.
The reason for this strange scheduling was my inclusion in a crack golf team representing Dalmeny Estate Golf Club, as they pitted themselves against Peebles Golf Club's finest.
I played with Mark, and immediately won his confidence by asking him what school he went to. It turns out he was 20 years old. whoops!
It would be fair to describe the quality of my performance as utter shite. We lost 3 and 1 and we were sent home to think again.
In fact Dalmeny lost all the matches, which was slightly disappointing.
The other noteworthy incident was myself being electrocuted as I attempted to vault a fence to retrieve my ball after yet another wayward drive. A singularly unpleasant experience.
I once had quite a bad electric shock at a party when I mistook a shaving socket for a light switch and inserted my finger into it. I was propelled 3 feet into the air and was shaky for a while afterwards. Not nice. Not nice at all.
After the match I watched the 2nd half of Rangers v Celtic. Celtic won 2-1 and look certs to win the league. I am a Rangers fan, so this is not a good thing.
However, such is my lack of faith in the current manager and his baffling tactical decisions, I had previously placed a substantial sum on Celtic to win the league as an "Insurance" policy. It takes the sting out of the defeat. Although, to fellow Rangers fans reading this drivel, I will now be categorised as a traitor of the lowest order, worthy of contempt. I'll get over it.
The reason for this strange scheduling was my inclusion in a crack golf team representing Dalmeny Estate Golf Club, as they pitted themselves against Peebles Golf Club's finest.
I played with Mark, and immediately won his confidence by asking him what school he went to. It turns out he was 20 years old. whoops!
It would be fair to describe the quality of my performance as utter shite. We lost 3 and 1 and we were sent home to think again.
In fact Dalmeny lost all the matches, which was slightly disappointing.
The other noteworthy incident was myself being electrocuted as I attempted to vault a fence to retrieve my ball after yet another wayward drive. A singularly unpleasant experience.
I once had quite a bad electric shock at a party when I mistook a shaving socket for a light switch and inserted my finger into it. I was propelled 3 feet into the air and was shaky for a while afterwards. Not nice. Not nice at all.
After the match I watched the 2nd half of Rangers v Celtic. Celtic won 2-1 and look certs to win the league. I am a Rangers fan, so this is not a good thing.
However, such is my lack of faith in the current manager and his baffling tactical decisions, I had previously placed a substantial sum on Celtic to win the league as an "Insurance" policy. It takes the sting out of the defeat. Although, to fellow Rangers fans reading this drivel, I will now be categorised as a traitor of the lowest order, worthy of contempt. I'll get over it.
23/04/05 It's "football" Jim, but not.....
My fantastic sister Ann, who does the best two finger whistle I've ever heard in my puff, treated myself, my Dad and her partner Julia's Dad, Pip, to a hospitality package at Starks Park to see Raith Rovers play the mighty Hamilton Academicals.
She'd also announced the happy news that she and Julia were going to make their relationship Official by using the new Civil Partnership legislation to tie the knot.
This gives same sex couples, the same legal rights as married couples and is long overdue. Well done Tony Blair. We marked the occasion with a tasty bottle of champagne. And another party to look forward to. Yee Ha!
My younger sister Janie also announced recently that her and Max are getting married. The pressure is now intensifying. A Park "hat trick" possibly?
My Dad was born and brought up in the hot streets of Hamilton and was/is a keen Accies man.
As we drove into Kirkcaldy, we passed a tanning salon called "Tanfastic".
This prompted a chuckle.
It definitely is the only way to see a football match.
You can drive right into the ground. You get a welcoming chat from the Raith officials, then shown to your table, and then proceed to drink and eat rather a lot before being escorted to your seats in the Stand.
The football itself was not of the highest order, although there were a few deft flicks from the Accies.
There was an air of resignation amongst the home support. They're getting relegated and the "Raith Rovers 2004/05 Season" DVD is not expected to shift a lot of units.
There was quite a funny little scene to observe though. An old Rovers fan decided to wear a match programme on his head, at a jaunty angle. This looked very comical and I noticed someone stealthily taking a picture of him with his mobile phone.
I wondered where in the world that photo might be getting sent to, and speculated that it might cause a global mexican wave of laughter as it was passed from person to person, crossing continents.
Although, he probably just sent it to his mate in a pub in Kirkcaldy, and that would be the end of it.
Accies won 2-0 ,fairly comfortably, much to my Dad's delight!
She'd also announced the happy news that she and Julia were going to make their relationship Official by using the new Civil Partnership legislation to tie the knot.
This gives same sex couples, the same legal rights as married couples and is long overdue. Well done Tony Blair. We marked the occasion with a tasty bottle of champagne. And another party to look forward to. Yee Ha!
My younger sister Janie also announced recently that her and Max are getting married. The pressure is now intensifying. A Park "hat trick" possibly?
My Dad was born and brought up in the hot streets of Hamilton and was/is a keen Accies man.
As we drove into Kirkcaldy, we passed a tanning salon called "Tanfastic".
This prompted a chuckle.
It definitely is the only way to see a football match.
You can drive right into the ground. You get a welcoming chat from the Raith officials, then shown to your table, and then proceed to drink and eat rather a lot before being escorted to your seats in the Stand.
The football itself was not of the highest order, although there were a few deft flicks from the Accies.
There was an air of resignation amongst the home support. They're getting relegated and the "Raith Rovers 2004/05 Season" DVD is not expected to shift a lot of units.
There was quite a funny little scene to observe though. An old Rovers fan decided to wear a match programme on his head, at a jaunty angle. This looked very comical and I noticed someone stealthily taking a picture of him with his mobile phone.
I wondered where in the world that photo might be getting sent to, and speculated that it might cause a global mexican wave of laughter as it was passed from person to person, crossing continents.
Although, he probably just sent it to his mate in a pub in Kirkcaldy, and that would be the end of it.
Accies won 2-0 ,fairly comfortably, much to my Dad's delight!
22/04/05 Down The Pub
I had a couple of drinks with the samba gang in Nicol Edwards.
There was talk of showing some DVDs in the cinema there, but this idea was shelved in favour of the more traditional pursuit of drinking and talking bollocks.
Graham offered to write my Fringe show.
I don't think this would be a good idea as, in my experience, Graham's jokes tend to be hoary old clunkers, principally dating from the pre-Jurassic era. I actually think I've just about got enough material now for the timeslot, so I'll have to politely decline...! :-)
I then moved on the Black Bo's and caught up with Crazy, Ginger Gent and Dolphin Boy
(great pseudonyms huh?).
We discussed the upcoming Old Firm fixture, the General Election and Billy Connolly.
One of the dangers of knowing the bar staff is that "Time, Gentlemen Please!" doesn't have quite the same significance, and I found myself there at 3.45am still blethering. This is not big and decidedly not clever behaviour.
There was talk of showing some DVDs in the cinema there, but this idea was shelved in favour of the more traditional pursuit of drinking and talking bollocks.
Graham offered to write my Fringe show.
I don't think this would be a good idea as, in my experience, Graham's jokes tend to be hoary old clunkers, principally dating from the pre-Jurassic era. I actually think I've just about got enough material now for the timeslot, so I'll have to politely decline...! :-)
I then moved on the Black Bo's and caught up with Crazy, Ginger Gent and Dolphin Boy
(great pseudonyms huh?).
We discussed the upcoming Old Firm fixture, the General Election and Billy Connolly.
One of the dangers of knowing the bar staff is that "Time, Gentlemen Please!" doesn't have quite the same significance, and I found myself there at 3.45am still blethering. This is not big and decidedly not clever behaviour.
Friday, April 22, 2005
21/04/05 Ninemileburn visit
Went to visit Mitch and Jo and their new son Finn at their posh country house in Ninemileburn.
Ninemileburn is a great place name I think. I'm not sure if it's called that because there is a burn (that's a "small stream" to you sassenach types) around, that just happens to be exactly 9 miles long, or whether historically there were nine separate burns in the surrounding area, each a mile long, or maybe there was a large area 9 miles long which was regularly set on fire as some kind of ancient pagan ritual involving the sacrifice of virgins and execution of suspected witches.
I should have really asked Mitch while I was there.
Finn seemed a very nice, calm, relaxed baby. Apparently we got him at a good time though according to Mitch.
I had my photograph taking holding Finn with animal horns behind me (koodoo horns to be precise).
This gave the impression that the horns were coming out of my head, and thus the image that I was the devil and was cradling another new recruit to my army of souls, ready to create global havoc in a kind of Damien from "The Omen" style.
I have a similar photo of me holding his older brother Jem. Very funny.
I'm intending giving the boys some old 60s LPs that they can play backwards and listen to my life tips as they grow up.
Ninemileburn is a great place name I think. I'm not sure if it's called that because there is a burn (that's a "small stream" to you sassenach types) around, that just happens to be exactly 9 miles long, or whether historically there were nine separate burns in the surrounding area, each a mile long, or maybe there was a large area 9 miles long which was regularly set on fire as some kind of ancient pagan ritual involving the sacrifice of virgins and execution of suspected witches.
I should have really asked Mitch while I was there.
Finn seemed a very nice, calm, relaxed baby. Apparently we got him at a good time though according to Mitch.
I had my photograph taking holding Finn with animal horns behind me (koodoo horns to be precise).
This gave the impression that the horns were coming out of my head, and thus the image that I was the devil and was cradling another new recruit to my army of souls, ready to create global havoc in a kind of Damien from "The Omen" style.
I have a similar photo of me holding his older brother Jem. Very funny.
I'm intending giving the boys some old 60s LPs that they can play backwards and listen to my life tips as they grow up.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
20/04/05 Hitler Has Only Got One Film
Went to see "Downfall" yesterday. It's a dramatisation of the last few days of Hitler's Bunker leading up to his suicide.
Excellent film. It was actually quite eerie seeing a proper dramatic representation of Hitler.
I think the only other film where I've seen a character portayal of him is "The Producers". That probably wasn't too accurate.
The casting of the film was great. Particularly Goebbels. He WAS Goebbels. I can't imagine him playing any other part. He stole the show from Hitler, who was a little over the top in some of his tantrums. Although Hitler probably was a little over the top in some of his tantrums. I suspect he was that kind of guy.
He was very polite to his secretary though.
Does that excuse him from his excesses though? No, probably not.
Quite grim stuff though. My last two visits to the Cinema have been at the darker end of the entertainment scale. It's time for a laugh I think to restore the ying and yang balance.
I enjoyed watching Alex Ferguson and David Moyes have a go at each other from their "technical boxes" during the Everton vs Man Utd match.
Us Scots just do that verbal aggression thing with a little more gusto than our English neighbours, I think.
Excellent film. It was actually quite eerie seeing a proper dramatic representation of Hitler.
I think the only other film where I've seen a character portayal of him is "The Producers". That probably wasn't too accurate.
The casting of the film was great. Particularly Goebbels. He WAS Goebbels. I can't imagine him playing any other part. He stole the show from Hitler, who was a little over the top in some of his tantrums. Although Hitler probably was a little over the top in some of his tantrums. I suspect he was that kind of guy.
He was very polite to his secretary though.
Does that excuse him from his excesses though? No, probably not.
Quite grim stuff though. My last two visits to the Cinema have been at the darker end of the entertainment scale. It's time for a laugh I think to restore the ying and yang balance.
I enjoyed watching Alex Ferguson and David Moyes have a go at each other from their "technical boxes" during the Everton vs Man Utd match.
Us Scots just do that verbal aggression thing with a little more gusto than our English neighbours, I think.
19/04/05 New Pope
So, tough-talking Joe Ratzinger is the new guy in charge. This doesn't seem an appropriate name for a new Pope. More fitting of a Bruce Willis type all-action hero who's going to kick some ass in the field of organised religion.
Obviously the Cardinals involved in his appointment agree with me, and his name has been swiftly changed to Benedict the 16th. This doesn't sound like a Bruce Willis type all-action hero at all. This sounds like a Pope.
I'd be slightly disgruntled at the choice if I was Joe. It makes it more difficult for him to make a historic mark as Pope, when there have already been 15 previous Popes with the same name. And presumably there'll be a few after Joe as well, as it seems a really popular choice. A bit like the name Jim. Although, everyone I know that have called their kids by my popular Christian name are now using the formal "James" version.
I used to absolutely detest being called James, (I still do). However, the most blood chilling version of it was "Jamie". A Primary School teacher in South Shields insisted on calling me that when we had to spend 6 months down there on account of my Dad's job.
Anyway, apparently the new Pope hates poofs, disapproves of condoms, is against the ordination of women and thinks rock'n'roll is a repugnant vehicle of anti-religion. Consequently, his reign should be able to link with the last encumbent seamlessly.
Too bad about the Aids situation in Africa.
Looks like the Vatican will continue to be a reality-free zone for the foreseeable future.
Obviously the Cardinals involved in his appointment agree with me, and his name has been swiftly changed to Benedict the 16th. This doesn't sound like a Bruce Willis type all-action hero at all. This sounds like a Pope.
I'd be slightly disgruntled at the choice if I was Joe. It makes it more difficult for him to make a historic mark as Pope, when there have already been 15 previous Popes with the same name. And presumably there'll be a few after Joe as well, as it seems a really popular choice. A bit like the name Jim. Although, everyone I know that have called their kids by my popular Christian name are now using the formal "James" version.
I used to absolutely detest being called James, (I still do). However, the most blood chilling version of it was "Jamie". A Primary School teacher in South Shields insisted on calling me that when we had to spend 6 months down there on account of my Dad's job.
Anyway, apparently the new Pope hates poofs, disapproves of condoms, is against the ordination of women and thinks rock'n'roll is a repugnant vehicle of anti-religion. Consequently, his reign should be able to link with the last encumbent seamlessly.
Too bad about the Aids situation in Africa.
Looks like the Vatican will continue to be a reality-free zone for the foreseeable future.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
18/04/05 Strawberry Scuffle
When I was about 10, the whole family were out one night having a posh meal.
There were 6 of us altogether. The fact that there were 6 of us dictated that posh meals out weren't that much of a regular occurrence.
Having my order taken directly by a waiter, rather than a proxy order given by my parents, made me feel rather adult and sophisticated.
I'd got though ordering the starter and main courses with impressive ease, and was now considering the dessert section as the waiter prepared to write down my order.
The menu had been typed out. I later discovered that there was a slight issue with the Remington typewriter's small "o", in that it's circular form had a small gap in it.
I confidently asked for a "Strawberry Scuffle". A catastrophic error. It was a "Strawberry Souffle" featuring the aforementioned typewriter disability.
Cue endless, prolonged laughter from the rest of the family, the waiter, the other waiters who came across wondering what was so goddamn funny, the head waiter, the adjoining tables. My sophisticated adult poise lay in tatters. I realised that I would never hear the end of this.
Then my Dad said "You'll never hear the end of this!".
It's fair to say that I have never heard the end of this indeed. And there is still no end in sight.
No Park family gathering has ever occurred without at least one passing reference to Jim and his "Strawberry Scuffle" clanger.
Every important family meal/gathering has a metaphorical roadie taping down a "conversation set list" onto the table, and you can be sure that "Strawberry Scuffle" will undoubtedly make an appearance. It has achieved a mythical place in the Park family history. It is how I will be remembered. It is my most noted contribution to civilisation.
I'm actually thinking of creating a new dessert called "Strawberry Scuffle" to cash in on my notoriety. Strawberries would be involved (obviously). I could maybe make some meringues, wrap them in a tea towel, then jump up and down on top of them to create the "scuffle" effect. A bit of strawberry pummelling with a rolling pin, mixed in with cream and fresh mint would complete my culinary masterpiece.
I will then track down any surviving members of the Remington family and shove a plateful of it into each of their faces. My redemption will then be complete and I will be able to get on with the rest of my life, finally quitting the psychotherapy sessions at last.
There were 6 of us altogether. The fact that there were 6 of us dictated that posh meals out weren't that much of a regular occurrence.
Having my order taken directly by a waiter, rather than a proxy order given by my parents, made me feel rather adult and sophisticated.
I'd got though ordering the starter and main courses with impressive ease, and was now considering the dessert section as the waiter prepared to write down my order.
The menu had been typed out. I later discovered that there was a slight issue with the Remington typewriter's small "o", in that it's circular form had a small gap in it.
I confidently asked for a "Strawberry Scuffle". A catastrophic error. It was a "Strawberry Souffle" featuring the aforementioned typewriter disability.
Cue endless, prolonged laughter from the rest of the family, the waiter, the other waiters who came across wondering what was so goddamn funny, the head waiter, the adjoining tables. My sophisticated adult poise lay in tatters. I realised that I would never hear the end of this.
Then my Dad said "You'll never hear the end of this!".
It's fair to say that I have never heard the end of this indeed. And there is still no end in sight.
No Park family gathering has ever occurred without at least one passing reference to Jim and his "Strawberry Scuffle" clanger.
Every important family meal/gathering has a metaphorical roadie taping down a "conversation set list" onto the table, and you can be sure that "Strawberry Scuffle" will undoubtedly make an appearance. It has achieved a mythical place in the Park family history. It is how I will be remembered. It is my most noted contribution to civilisation.
I'm actually thinking of creating a new dessert called "Strawberry Scuffle" to cash in on my notoriety. Strawberries would be involved (obviously). I could maybe make some meringues, wrap them in a tea towel, then jump up and down on top of them to create the "scuffle" effect. A bit of strawberry pummelling with a rolling pin, mixed in with cream and fresh mint would complete my culinary masterpiece.
I will then track down any surviving members of the Remington family and shove a plateful of it into each of their faces. My redemption will then be complete and I will be able to get on with the rest of my life, finally quitting the psychotherapy sessions at last.
Monday, April 18, 2005
17/04/05 Cat Behaviour
I noticed that Ted the Cat was busy doing his "territory spraying" thing up on the scaffolding at the back of my flat.
He obviously sees this as an unexpected new part of his empire which has to be marked accordingly with feline urine to determine ownership.
It must be slightly confusing for him. It's like suddenly finding a conservatory appear at the back of your house, and having an irresistible urge to decorate it with floral wallpaper, to incorporate into the rest of your domain.
I noticed on Google that "National Cat Day" was on March 28th. This would have been a good wacky opportunity for humans to behave like cats for a day as a conciliatory gesture to the feline species.
This would involve pissing on the side of your desk in your office, to clarify ownership. Furthermore, it would also be appropriate to sit on your boss's knee and allow him/her to tickle you under the chin.
He obviously sees this as an unexpected new part of his empire which has to be marked accordingly with feline urine to determine ownership.
It must be slightly confusing for him. It's like suddenly finding a conservatory appear at the back of your house, and having an irresistible urge to decorate it with floral wallpaper, to incorporate into the rest of your domain.
I noticed on Google that "National Cat Day" was on March 28th. This would have been a good wacky opportunity for humans to behave like cats for a day as a conciliatory gesture to the feline species.
This would involve pissing on the side of your desk in your office, to clarify ownership. Furthermore, it would also be appropriate to sit on your boss's knee and allow him/her to tickle you under the chin.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
16/04/05 There Aint No Sanity Clause
I had my fire blocked off today to stop the soot that is going to come rushing down the chimney when they start dismantling it next week.
There was no choice. It was either I got this done or find myself in a position to be able to carry off an authentic Al Jolson routine in my living room, singing about the "Swanee River".
This shouldn't be too much of a big deal as it is the end of April. Unfortunately,Scotland is still doing its very best Siberia impersonation. I'll have to follow Edwina Currie's advice when she was Energy Minister, and just wrap up a bit warmer to stave off possible hypothermia.
Hopefully the job will be finished by Xmas, otherwise Santa will encounter severe logistical difficulties in delivering my presents this year.
I've asked my neighbours to come in and check periodically that I am alright and am not tinged with blue, (apart from my nose, which has a permanently blueish tint on account of my football supporting proclivity).
There was no choice. It was either I got this done or find myself in a position to be able to carry off an authentic Al Jolson routine in my living room, singing about the "Swanee River".
This shouldn't be too much of a big deal as it is the end of April. Unfortunately,Scotland is still doing its very best Siberia impersonation. I'll have to follow Edwina Currie's advice when she was Energy Minister, and just wrap up a bit warmer to stave off possible hypothermia.
Hopefully the job will be finished by Xmas, otherwise Santa will encounter severe logistical difficulties in delivering my presents this year.
I've asked my neighbours to come in and check periodically that I am alright and am not tinged with blue, (apart from my nose, which has a permanently blueish tint on account of my football supporting proclivity).
Saturday, April 16, 2005
15/04/05 Material Boy
I nicked down to Dave Bann's restaurant to get my free lunch and work on some ideas for new material, (I am an investor in the restaurant, check www.davidbann.com, it's very good, you really should go...very often, and spend a lot while you're there).
Just to get relaxed I had a large glass of white wine before the meal.
I finished this just as the meal arrived, and thought that it seemed reasonable to have another large glass of wine with my meal.
As large glasses of wine go, it's fair to say that these glasses were at the upper end of the largeness scale. Mr Bann informed me that 3 such glasses constituted a whole bottle of wine.
I did scribble away for a while but being slightly pissed is, in my experience, not always a useful aid to the creative process.
A valuable lesson then. Have a couple of drinks after you've come up with a few original and hilarious stand-up anecdotes.
I went back home and fell asleep on the couch. Now that's what I call a full working day.
Just to get relaxed I had a large glass of white wine before the meal.
I finished this just as the meal arrived, and thought that it seemed reasonable to have another large glass of wine with my meal.
As large glasses of wine go, it's fair to say that these glasses were at the upper end of the largeness scale. Mr Bann informed me that 3 such glasses constituted a whole bottle of wine.
I did scribble away for a while but being slightly pissed is, in my experience, not always a useful aid to the creative process.
A valuable lesson then. Have a couple of drinks after you've come up with a few original and hilarious stand-up anecdotes.
I went back home and fell asleep on the couch. Now that's what I call a full working day.
Friday, April 15, 2005
14/04/05 Park's Circus
Park's Circus is the name of the show I'm in at this year's Edinburgh Fringe. Myself and Tony Wilkes plus Special Guest Stars will be performing at the Roman Eagle Lodge on Johnston Terrace, August 5th - 21st at 9.40pm. Here's the programme blurb ;
"Jim Park and Tony Wilkes plus Special Guest Stars invite you to enter the world of Park’s Circus, a fun and friendly hour of standup comedy, off-the-wall merriment and triangular sandwiches. (note: sandwiches not included)"
You should definitely consider coming to see this show several times, and help us to reduce our losses to a five figure sum.
However after paying £21 000 towards the current building repair going on, the finance involved in putting on a Fringe show seems like small change. I have parted with my cash with the studied nonchalance I'd normally associate with buying a packet of tootie frooties.
I went to see "The Assassination of Nixon" with Sean Penn yesterday. Sean really enjoyed it. (sorry...)
To say this film was downbeat would be something of an understatement. Penn plays a loser who ploughs a steady downward path into the deepest abysses of loserdom over the course of the film. I can't relate to this at all...! :-)
There is no "feelgood factor" at play here.
In fact, I'd describe the film's potential for uplifting the mood, as equivalent to that of watching 90 minutes repeated film of the two airliners smashing into the World Trade Centre.
It's bleak, bleak, bleak.
An impressive performance from Mr Penn though. However I felt a great need to watch "Duck Soup" with the Marx Brothers as an antidote to this gloomy tale.
"Jim Park and Tony Wilkes plus Special Guest Stars invite you to enter the world of Park’s Circus, a fun and friendly hour of standup comedy, off-the-wall merriment and triangular sandwiches. (note: sandwiches not included)"
You should definitely consider coming to see this show several times, and help us to reduce our losses to a five figure sum.
However after paying £21 000 towards the current building repair going on, the finance involved in putting on a Fringe show seems like small change. I have parted with my cash with the studied nonchalance I'd normally associate with buying a packet of tootie frooties.
I went to see "The Assassination of Nixon" with Sean Penn yesterday. Sean really enjoyed it. (sorry...)
To say this film was downbeat would be something of an understatement. Penn plays a loser who ploughs a steady downward path into the deepest abysses of loserdom over the course of the film. I can't relate to this at all...! :-)
There is no "feelgood factor" at play here.
In fact, I'd describe the film's potential for uplifting the mood, as equivalent to that of watching 90 minutes repeated film of the two airliners smashing into the World Trade Centre.
It's bleak, bleak, bleak.
An impressive performance from Mr Penn though. However I felt a great need to watch "Duck Soup" with the Marx Brothers as an antidote to this gloomy tale.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
13/04/05 Gotta Sing, Gotta Dance
I've got a load of workers at my flat all the time now. I hate going out and in of my flat and having to engage in "awkward greeting" rituals. It's difficult to get a bit of banter up and running.
I just tend to say "Hello", and they say "Right,mate" and look down at the ground until I walk past.
I should maybe step out of my front door and immediately burst into song to see how they react. Anything which could remove these awkward pauses would certainly be worthwhile.
Perhaps they might feel like joining in, and Coates Gardens would reverberate to the strains of "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" from Rodger & Hammersteins acclaimed musical production "Oklahoma!".
That would be a beautiful thing.
Children would smile, birds would sing and God would nod appreciatively in the knowledge that his light was shining brightly on the gentle residents of Coates Gardens.
This is definitely the most difficult Blog I've had to write. Can I keep up doing one a day? There are definite signs of tiring! I feel that I may have to rob a bank or perhaps set fire to a large public building today. This would ensure a riveting Blog tomorrow that will have my spiralling readership on the edge of their swivel chairs.
I just tend to say "Hello", and they say "Right,mate" and look down at the ground until I walk past.
I should maybe step out of my front door and immediately burst into song to see how they react. Anything which could remove these awkward pauses would certainly be worthwhile.
Perhaps they might feel like joining in, and Coates Gardens would reverberate to the strains of "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" from Rodger & Hammersteins acclaimed musical production "Oklahoma!".
That would be a beautiful thing.
Children would smile, birds would sing and God would nod appreciatively in the knowledge that his light was shining brightly on the gentle residents of Coates Gardens.
This is definitely the most difficult Blog I've had to write. Can I keep up doing one a day? There are definite signs of tiring! I feel that I may have to rob a bank or perhaps set fire to a large public building today. This would ensure a riveting Blog tomorrow that will have my spiralling readership on the edge of their swivel chairs.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
12/04/05 The name's Bond....Premium Bond
Well yesterday got off to a spectacular start when I discovered I'd won a £500 premium bond....yessssss!!!!!! Just what the order doctored, as I'm not exactly awash with cash at the moment.
"Fans" (guffaw) of my stand-up routine will know that I do a piece about momentarily losing self-control and allowing a pot of Campbells Cream of Mushroom soup to boil, in the full knowledge that it would slightly impair the flavour.
Out of curiosity, I emailed the Campbells web site to ask what exactly happens to the soup which has this negative effect on the flavour. This was their reply.
"With regards to your enquiry, soup should not be boiled as this does indeed impair the quality. The oil and whey powder used in soups forms an emulsion and if the product is overheated, this will split causing tiny 'lumps' to appear. Also, if the starch is overcooked this will lead to a thinner viscosity and you will lose the creamy mouthfeel of the soup."
Well there you have it. It's funny to think that the people at Campbells must have thought what a sad pathetic nerd I am writing in with questions like that, and probably opined amongst themselves that I should seriously look into the possibility of aquiring some kind of "life".
Ha! Little do they know I'm a hip, cool and trendy stand-up comedian, living on the edge, and legitimately trawling around for material. Ha! (again, for comic effect)
I like the phrase "creamy mouthfeel" at the end there. They've answered my question in a fairly matter of fact fashion, but couldn't resist a little marketing soundbite at the end to communicate the unique sensual appeal of their soup products.
Well that's fair enough, I would do the same in their position.
"Fans" (guffaw) of my stand-up routine will know that I do a piece about momentarily losing self-control and allowing a pot of Campbells Cream of Mushroom soup to boil, in the full knowledge that it would slightly impair the flavour.
Out of curiosity, I emailed the Campbells web site to ask what exactly happens to the soup which has this negative effect on the flavour. This was their reply.
"With regards to your enquiry, soup should not be boiled as this does indeed impair the quality. The oil and whey powder used in soups forms an emulsion and if the product is overheated, this will split causing tiny 'lumps' to appear. Also, if the starch is overcooked this will lead to a thinner viscosity and you will lose the creamy mouthfeel of the soup."
Well there you have it. It's funny to think that the people at Campbells must have thought what a sad pathetic nerd I am writing in with questions like that, and probably opined amongst themselves that I should seriously look into the possibility of aquiring some kind of "life".
Ha! Little do they know I'm a hip, cool and trendy stand-up comedian, living on the edge, and legitimately trawling around for material. Ha! (again, for comic effect)
I like the phrase "creamy mouthfeel" at the end there. They've answered my question in a fairly matter of fact fashion, but couldn't resist a little marketing soundbite at the end to communicate the unique sensual appeal of their soup products.
Well that's fair enough, I would do the same in their position.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
11/04/05 German Barber
Today I made a visit to the German Barber on York Place, Herr Kutt.
I had a No. 2 all over. That's a kind of crew cut as opposed to the barber rubbing shit all over me, (I go somewhere else for that).
It feels strange. This is the shortest I've ever had my hair (what there is of it), since I was borned into the world. I like it though. And I do feel just that little bit more "right wing" since I had it cut.
Perhaps I should see if I can stand for the British National Party at the upcoming General Election? I definitely look the part. Of course I am kidding really. What a wag.
I had a No. 2 all over. That's a kind of crew cut as opposed to the barber rubbing shit all over me, (I go somewhere else for that).
It feels strange. This is the shortest I've ever had my hair (what there is of it), since I was borned into the world. I like it though. And I do feel just that little bit more "right wing" since I had it cut.
Perhaps I should see if I can stand for the British National Party at the upcoming General Election? I definitely look the part. Of course I am kidding really. What a wag.
Monday, April 11, 2005
10/04/05 Jings, is that really me?
On Saturday night at The Stand speccy Coatbridge funnyman Quentin Reynolds gave me a video of my performance at the Leicester Comedy Festival.
I watched it yesterday. For most of the tape my hands were covering my face as I watched it through my fingers. I found it very, very uncomfortable to watch.
It's not that it was a bad gig or anything. I got one of my best reactions that night, and there are big laughs aplenty on the tape.
It's just the experience of seeing yourself, analysing your little physical and verbal ticks...it's all weird, very weird.
I distinctly remember that I was feeling very relaxed at that gig and that my delivery was slower and more measured than previous gigs. Or so I thought.
Watching the video it was still a "racing commentator Peter O'Sullevan after a few lines of cocaine" machine gun delivery.
So if it's as fast as that when I internally think it's fairly slow and relaxed, what must it have been like when I was consciously going very fast??? I've got to slow down!
Oh dear, another bad PR day for Scotland as Hearts fans' booing cut short the minute's silence in memory of the Pope, live on Sky Sports. It was the Scottish Cup semi-final against Celtic.
What is it with football and minute's silences anyway? I hate them. It's a horrible cringeworthy exercise when they are not observed. This is often the case.
Anyone aquainted with attending football matches will be aware that any club's support contains a liberal helping of complete scumbags with no redeeming features and no respect for anything or anyone.
Why give them the opportunity to desecrate the memory of a departed person?
Did we have a full public minute's silence in Scotland to commemorate the pope's death?
Did Cinemas or Theatres or any other public gatherings observe one?
So why is it deemed appropriate to use a football match as a vehicle to show respect?
Would they have attempted it had there been a Rangers v Celtic match this weekend?
Not a snowball's chance in hell of that being agreed.
So we're left with another example of Scotland being depicted UK-wide as being a haven for backward neanderthal football fans.
Well, yes, I know that's absolutely true, but we don't need to advertise it to the rest of the UK, do we??
I watched it yesterday. For most of the tape my hands were covering my face as I watched it through my fingers. I found it very, very uncomfortable to watch.
It's not that it was a bad gig or anything. I got one of my best reactions that night, and there are big laughs aplenty on the tape.
It's just the experience of seeing yourself, analysing your little physical and verbal ticks...it's all weird, very weird.
I distinctly remember that I was feeling very relaxed at that gig and that my delivery was slower and more measured than previous gigs. Or so I thought.
Watching the video it was still a "racing commentator Peter O'Sullevan after a few lines of cocaine" machine gun delivery.
So if it's as fast as that when I internally think it's fairly slow and relaxed, what must it have been like when I was consciously going very fast??? I've got to slow down!
Oh dear, another bad PR day for Scotland as Hearts fans' booing cut short the minute's silence in memory of the Pope, live on Sky Sports. It was the Scottish Cup semi-final against Celtic.
What is it with football and minute's silences anyway? I hate them. It's a horrible cringeworthy exercise when they are not observed. This is often the case.
Anyone aquainted with attending football matches will be aware that any club's support contains a liberal helping of complete scumbags with no redeeming features and no respect for anything or anyone.
Why give them the opportunity to desecrate the memory of a departed person?
Did we have a full public minute's silence in Scotland to commemorate the pope's death?
Did Cinemas or Theatres or any other public gatherings observe one?
So why is it deemed appropriate to use a football match as a vehicle to show respect?
Would they have attempted it had there been a Rangers v Celtic match this weekend?
Not a snowball's chance in hell of that being agreed.
So we're left with another example of Scotland being depicted UK-wide as being a haven for backward neanderthal football fans.
Well, yes, I know that's absolutely true, but we don't need to advertise it to the rest of the UK, do we??
Sunday, April 10, 2005
09/04/05 Ding Dong
I was supposed to be spending the day trying to work on some new stand-up material. That was the plan anyway.
I ended up watching Charles and Camilla's wedding live on BBC1, shamelessly neglecting my writing duties.
I have to confess I quite like old Charlie. He's had a lot of grief over the years, and I was happy to see him having a good day at the office for a change.
I quite like Camilla as well. She's a game old bird.
I'd imagine she's the type of female who could quite happily break wind loudly in polite company, and make a joke about it. I think this is an admirable characteristic for any future "queen" to possess.
These "Royal Correspondents" on the telly do ma heid in. They get so excited about an event like this. What a job. It's just the sheer, unending banality of analysing all things Royal. I feel sorry for them. I'm sure the money isn't nearly enough to compensate them for this utter drudgery.
This is the first blog entry where I have really struggled for something to say.
You have probably noticed this already.
I think I should just stand up now and sing "God Save The Queen" and log off gracefully.
I ended up watching Charles and Camilla's wedding live on BBC1, shamelessly neglecting my writing duties.
I have to confess I quite like old Charlie. He's had a lot of grief over the years, and I was happy to see him having a good day at the office for a change.
I quite like Camilla as well. She's a game old bird.
I'd imagine she's the type of female who could quite happily break wind loudly in polite company, and make a joke about it. I think this is an admirable characteristic for any future "queen" to possess.
These "Royal Correspondents" on the telly do ma heid in. They get so excited about an event like this. What a job. It's just the sheer, unending banality of analysing all things Royal. I feel sorry for them. I'm sure the money isn't nearly enough to compensate them for this utter drudgery.
This is the first blog entry where I have really struggled for something to say.
You have probably noticed this already.
I think I should just stand up now and sing "God Save The Queen" and log off gracefully.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
08/04/05 Tum te tum
Well yesterday was the Pope's funeral. It was the hottest global showbiz party going.
Everybody who was anybody was there. It was all very spectacular. Tremendous pageantry. Of course, being brought up as a Church of Scotland protestant, my social/environmental ubringing programming in Glasgow causes me to slightly bristle at all this theatrical Roman Catholic display of colour and symbolism.
The protestant ethos is that everything should be drab and formal, ideally with a cold wind chilling your bones at the same time.
We seem to be moving away from this now though. Since Diana's funeral it has become quite common to hear applause at funerals. Now that is VERY catholic. But I like it.
Sorry Grandpa! :-)
I've taken the plunge and booked a 2 week slot (plus 3 previews) for the 2005 Fringe, at the Roman Eagle Lodge on Johnston Terrace. We've got the 9.30 - 11.00pm slot which I think is a good one.
It's exciting to have a show scheduled, but also a little terrifying, and I anticipate a series of panic attacks in the middle of the night between now and August.
I need to get a solid 20 minutes of material sorted. At the moment I have only 10.
It's quite ambitious to undertake this considering I've only been seriously gigging for 6 months. I reckon though that if you have something to aim at, you'll progress much quicker. I could totally fall flat on my arse with this if I'm not properly prepared.
Anyway, just been offered another 10 gigs at The Stand in Edinburgh and Glasgow.
This is good. However, I'll have to be brave and use a lot of these gigs to perform untried material, and run the risk of dying. There is no alternative. I wouldn't use untested material in a Fringe show. That's asking for trouble.
Do you get annoyed by tabloids trying to reflect perceived public outrage?
For the record, just about everybody I've spoken to thought that Price Charles "overheard" comments about Nicholas Witchell were hilarious and brought credit to his character judgement, and furthermore, the spectacle of Lee Bowyer and Kieron Dyer fighting was a fantastic piece of slapstick comedy, hugely enjoyed by the public at large.
I saw a much worse bout of sustained fisticuffs during the recent Wales v Ireland rugby match. Bill McLaren used to call this type of thing "foolishness". He was right. It is not the end of the world.
Everybody who was anybody was there. It was all very spectacular. Tremendous pageantry. Of course, being brought up as a Church of Scotland protestant, my social/environmental ubringing programming in Glasgow causes me to slightly bristle at all this theatrical Roman Catholic display of colour and symbolism.
The protestant ethos is that everything should be drab and formal, ideally with a cold wind chilling your bones at the same time.
We seem to be moving away from this now though. Since Diana's funeral it has become quite common to hear applause at funerals. Now that is VERY catholic. But I like it.
Sorry Grandpa! :-)
I've taken the plunge and booked a 2 week slot (plus 3 previews) for the 2005 Fringe, at the Roman Eagle Lodge on Johnston Terrace. We've got the 9.30 - 11.00pm slot which I think is a good one.
It's exciting to have a show scheduled, but also a little terrifying, and I anticipate a series of panic attacks in the middle of the night between now and August.
I need to get a solid 20 minutes of material sorted. At the moment I have only 10.
It's quite ambitious to undertake this considering I've only been seriously gigging for 6 months. I reckon though that if you have something to aim at, you'll progress much quicker. I could totally fall flat on my arse with this if I'm not properly prepared.
Anyway, just been offered another 10 gigs at The Stand in Edinburgh and Glasgow.
This is good. However, I'll have to be brave and use a lot of these gigs to perform untried material, and run the risk of dying. There is no alternative. I wouldn't use untested material in a Fringe show. That's asking for trouble.
Do you get annoyed by tabloids trying to reflect perceived public outrage?
For the record, just about everybody I've spoken to thought that Price Charles "overheard" comments about Nicholas Witchell were hilarious and brought credit to his character judgement, and furthermore, the spectacle of Lee Bowyer and Kieron Dyer fighting was a fantastic piece of slapstick comedy, hugely enjoyed by the public at large.
I saw a much worse bout of sustained fisticuffs during the recent Wales v Ireland rugby match. Bill McLaren used to call this type of thing "foolishness". He was right. It is not the end of the world.
Friday, April 08, 2005
07/04/05 Vijay Singh and other things
I was just watching Vijay Singh hitting a shot in the US Masters golf tournament and an old anecdote came to mind. It all began with a golf joke. However some crucial golf knowledge has to be explained before the joke can be, ahem, fully appreciated. This does seem a desperate state of affairs, but please bear with me here...
Anyway, what you need to know is that the very well known English golfer Nick Faldo was noted for employing a female caddie who went by the name of Fanny Sunesson. ok?
So I told my dad (another keen golfer) this joke.
Me ; "Have you you heard that Vijay Singh has married Nick Faldo's caddy?"
Dad ; "No I hadn't..."
Me ; "Yes, he's made her Fanny Singh"
Ok not the most brilliant of jokes, but fairly amusing.
Anyway, a few months afterwards, I was up in St Andrews with my Dad at the Open Golf Championship. We were sitting in a beer garden having a spot of lunch when we were joined by an elderly American couple. We talked a bit of golf, discussed various players, predicted the winner etc and eventually Vijay Singh's name came up.
At this, my Dad immediately piped up and asked the American couple if they'd heard that he had married Nick Faldo's caddy.
I was somewhat startled at the appearance of this joke set-up. It didn't seem the right material to pitch at a very prim and proper elderly American couple. This was going to be a disaster. To make matters worse, the punchline, rude as it is, will be misinterpreted. It will translate that Vijay has been practising energetic anal sex on Nick Faldo's caddy, to such a degree that her anus "sung" with pleasure.
I looked quizzically at my Dad attempting to put him off delivering the punchline.
Remarkably, the joke just turned into a surreal conversation on Vijay and Fanny's married life together. My Dad had remembered the story, but had forgotten that it was told in the context of a "joke" (I use the term loosely).
We discussed whether Nick would be jealous ; the ethics of your caddy and principal confidante forming a liason with a sporting competitor ; how interesting it would be if Faldo and Singh were involved in a tense play-off for a Major Championship etc etc
At this point I was in acute physical pain. I needed to laugh out loud for a long time but had to suppress it till they left, heading back to the US to pass on this interesting piece of golfing trivia.
I spent the rest of the day giggling quietly to myself and attracting bemused looks from fellow spectators...
Anyway, what you need to know is that the very well known English golfer Nick Faldo was noted for employing a female caddie who went by the name of Fanny Sunesson. ok?
So I told my dad (another keen golfer) this joke.
Me ; "Have you you heard that Vijay Singh has married Nick Faldo's caddy?"
Dad ; "No I hadn't..."
Me ; "Yes, he's made her Fanny Singh"
Ok not the most brilliant of jokes, but fairly amusing.
Anyway, a few months afterwards, I was up in St Andrews with my Dad at the Open Golf Championship. We were sitting in a beer garden having a spot of lunch when we were joined by an elderly American couple. We talked a bit of golf, discussed various players, predicted the winner etc and eventually Vijay Singh's name came up.
At this, my Dad immediately piped up and asked the American couple if they'd heard that he had married Nick Faldo's caddy.
I was somewhat startled at the appearance of this joke set-up. It didn't seem the right material to pitch at a very prim and proper elderly American couple. This was going to be a disaster. To make matters worse, the punchline, rude as it is, will be misinterpreted. It will translate that Vijay has been practising energetic anal sex on Nick Faldo's caddy, to such a degree that her anus "sung" with pleasure.
I looked quizzically at my Dad attempting to put him off delivering the punchline.
Remarkably, the joke just turned into a surreal conversation on Vijay and Fanny's married life together. My Dad had remembered the story, but had forgotten that it was told in the context of a "joke" (I use the term loosely).
We discussed whether Nick would be jealous ; the ethics of your caddy and principal confidante forming a liason with a sporting competitor ; how interesting it would be if Faldo and Singh were involved in a tense play-off for a Major Championship etc etc
At this point I was in acute physical pain. I needed to laugh out loud for a long time but had to suppress it till they left, heading back to the US to pass on this interesting piece of golfing trivia.
I spent the rest of the day giggling quietly to myself and attracting bemused looks from fellow spectators...
Thursday, April 07, 2005
06/04/05 Cum On Feel The Noize
as Slade used to say in the old days....
So the repair job is underway. I now have to daily get up in the middle of night! (well 7.45am to be precise). I've made a couple of attempts at engaging the workers in a spot of idle banter, but haven't quite managed to "break the ice" with them.
I'm paranoid about coming across as some Alan Partridgesque tosser trying to bond with them.
My football form of late has not been "absolutely magnificent" as Alan Hansen wouldn't say if he was talking about my performance on "Match of the Day". It has been a grotesque caricature of how I used to play before my knees started falling apart.
However on Wednesday night I had my best game for ages and was running around, tackling, blocking shots and scoring goals like it was nobody's business. Suggestions were made that I should be drug tested. But hey, I'm clean, I'm clean...!
Can this rich seam of form continue? Well, obviously not, I'd say...it's probably just that last little burst of flame before a candle goes out, or on a slightly bigger scale of analogy, the solar explosion generated by the dying moments of the sun, just before we are plunged into darkness and die, and the sun turns into a black hole. That's how I'd best describe it I think.
I'm looking forward to the next game anyway...!
So the repair job is underway. I now have to daily get up in the middle of night! (well 7.45am to be precise). I've made a couple of attempts at engaging the workers in a spot of idle banter, but haven't quite managed to "break the ice" with them.
I'm paranoid about coming across as some Alan Partridgesque tosser trying to bond with them.
My football form of late has not been "absolutely magnificent" as Alan Hansen wouldn't say if he was talking about my performance on "Match of the Day". It has been a grotesque caricature of how I used to play before my knees started falling apart.
However on Wednesday night I had my best game for ages and was running around, tackling, blocking shots and scoring goals like it was nobody's business. Suggestions were made that I should be drug tested. But hey, I'm clean, I'm clean...!
Can this rich seam of form continue? Well, obviously not, I'd say...it's probably just that last little burst of flame before a candle goes out, or on a slightly bigger scale of analogy, the solar explosion generated by the dying moments of the sun, just before we are plunged into darkness and die, and the sun turns into a black hole. That's how I'd best describe it I think.
I'm looking forward to the next game anyway...!
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
05/04/05 Bonnie Edinburgh
I had to get up early and head off to Luton Airport. I needed food and took a while to decide where at the airport I would prefer to get ripped off.
I went for the unfeasibly expensive Chicken wrap together with a special 2050 AD priced Pain au Chocolat. I was going to have a cup of tea but lost the will to live in the queue.
I remember a regular feature of village fairs when I was a kid was the "Slow Bicycle Race" in which the idea was to take as long as you could over a course on a bike.
The staff at Luton Airport seem to be playing a new catering version of this hilarious jape. The tea lady was the comfortable outright winner. She was so slow any movement at all was barely perceptible.
Suffering from tea withdrawal symptoms I ordered a cup of tea on the plane.
To my horror, I was supplied with a sachet of UHT milk to accompany my tea.
I don't know about you, but in terms of things I hate more than anything else in the whole wide world, UHT milk is definitely in the top 5.
It's disgusting, shitty stuff that pollutes a nice cup of tea. Why, oh why, oh why??? Ah I see...it lasts longer, is cheaper, and boosts airline profitability?
Bastards! Bastards! Bastards! (I feel better now....)
As I type, my flat and back garden are being transformed into a "Ground Zero" Theme Park, as squillions of tons of scaffolding and equipment are carried through my flat by a squad of workmen.
It's going to be a long 3 months to get this repair done.
I just hope they do a good job. If they don't I will unleash my ultimate sanction and give them tea with UHT milk. That should fire a warning shot across their bows and let them know I'm the type of guy who means business and therefore should not be trifled with.
I went for the unfeasibly expensive Chicken wrap together with a special 2050 AD priced Pain au Chocolat. I was going to have a cup of tea but lost the will to live in the queue.
I remember a regular feature of village fairs when I was a kid was the "Slow Bicycle Race" in which the idea was to take as long as you could over a course on a bike.
The staff at Luton Airport seem to be playing a new catering version of this hilarious jape. The tea lady was the comfortable outright winner. She was so slow any movement at all was barely perceptible.
Suffering from tea withdrawal symptoms I ordered a cup of tea on the plane.
To my horror, I was supplied with a sachet of UHT milk to accompany my tea.
I don't know about you, but in terms of things I hate more than anything else in the whole wide world, UHT milk is definitely in the top 5.
It's disgusting, shitty stuff that pollutes a nice cup of tea. Why, oh why, oh why??? Ah I see...it lasts longer, is cheaper, and boosts airline profitability?
Bastards! Bastards! Bastards! (I feel better now....)
As I type, my flat and back garden are being transformed into a "Ground Zero" Theme Park, as squillions of tons of scaffolding and equipment are carried through my flat by a squad of workmen.
It's going to be a long 3 months to get this repair done.
I just hope they do a good job. If they don't I will unleash my ultimate sanction and give them tea with UHT milk. That should fire a warning shot across their bows and let them know I'm the type of guy who means business and therefore should not be trifled with.
04/04/05 Bonnie London
I spent the morning strolling about Manchester city centre. I had a ticket for the 2.15pm train to London.
In the end I became slightly lost and just managed to catch the train by a veritable "ba' hair" (the smallest unit of measurement used in Scotland).
Arriving in London, I headed to Camden and had a couple of drinks with Sandy Grom who I knew in my time at Stirling University.
I did the show and got a great reaction. However I was concerned that I had been shown the red light which signified I'd run over the 5 minute slot.
(I had been told at the start not to wait for the light, and that ideally I should wind up before its introduction was necessary)
Anyway, I failed to qualify. I'm not too bothered about it. If it was just a normal non-competitive gig, I would have been really chuffed with how I delivered my set and with the audience reaction. So there's no point in beating myself up about not qualifying, and it was going to become more than a little extravagant (given my current perilous financial state), to continue to pop down to London for heats.
I'm not sure how many you have to do in the end to get through to the final.
Pete, who I knew from doing a stand-up course at the Edinburgh Festival in 2003, came along to the gig. He reckoned that I "was robbed", but maybe he was just being sympathetic. :-)
I feel that it is time to get a lot of new material into my set. I've got a load of new stuff that just needs honed and tried out. I very quickly tire of repeating myself with material, and I think it can sometimes show in the performance. It's really refreshing when you try something new and it comes off. It's just like starting over, as John Lennon used to say before somebody shot him.
In the end I became slightly lost and just managed to catch the train by a veritable "ba' hair" (the smallest unit of measurement used in Scotland).
Arriving in London, I headed to Camden and had a couple of drinks with Sandy Grom who I knew in my time at Stirling University.
I did the show and got a great reaction. However I was concerned that I had been shown the red light which signified I'd run over the 5 minute slot.
(I had been told at the start not to wait for the light, and that ideally I should wind up before its introduction was necessary)
Anyway, I failed to qualify. I'm not too bothered about it. If it was just a normal non-competitive gig, I would have been really chuffed with how I delivered my set and with the audience reaction. So there's no point in beating myself up about not qualifying, and it was going to become more than a little extravagant (given my current perilous financial state), to continue to pop down to London for heats.
I'm not sure how many you have to do in the end to get through to the final.
Pete, who I knew from doing a stand-up course at the Edinburgh Festival in 2003, came along to the gig. He reckoned that I "was robbed", but maybe he was just being sympathetic. :-)
I feel that it is time to get a lot of new material into my set. I've got a load of new stuff that just needs honed and tried out. I very quickly tire of repeating myself with material, and I think it can sometimes show in the performance. It's really refreshing when you try something new and it comes off. It's just like starting over, as John Lennon used to say before somebody shot him.
03/04/05 Bonnie Manchester
I headed down to Manchester. I was due to be doing the Gong Show at The Comedy Store but didn't manage to get there in time unfortunately.
I ended up going out for a meal in Chorlton and having a few drinks instead.
There was an incredibly pissed bloke in the pub who tried to talk to us. None of us had a clue what he was trying to say. And yes, he WAS Scottish.
It's definitely one of our most successful exports.
"Hello, can I interest you in a resident drunken rambling Scotsman for your bar?"
"We're currently offering a free 6 month promotional trial period!"
Maybe bar managers think it gives their pub an air of authenticity to have a drunken jock on the premises?
Perhaps he wasn't drunk at all and was was just performing?
I could do that! hmmmmm.....
I ended up going out for a meal in Chorlton and having a few drinks instead.
There was an incredibly pissed bloke in the pub who tried to talk to us. None of us had a clue what he was trying to say. And yes, he WAS Scottish.
It's definitely one of our most successful exports.
"Hello, can I interest you in a resident drunken rambling Scotsman for your bar?"
"We're currently offering a free 6 month promotional trial period!"
Maybe bar managers think it gives their pub an air of authenticity to have a drunken jock on the premises?
Perhaps he wasn't drunk at all and was was just performing?
I could do that! hmmmmm.....
02/04/05 Bonnie Dundee
This was not one of life's most productive days as I was feeling a little fragile after the previous night's "football awards" drinks.
In the evening I headed up to Dundee. I had a gig at "Drouthy Neebors", a new club run by the renowned comedic talents of messrs Keir McAllister & Paul Pirie.
I just did 5 minutes and got an ok reaction. There weren't too many people there but it got busier later on.
I found that doing my set to silence the previous day had interfered with the rhythm of my delivery, and I had a few verbal stumbles. I was going to do some new material, but I think the Airdrie experience left me desperately craving laughter, so I ended up going for the tried and tested stuff. Scaredy custard.
Andy White was headlining. I've done a few gigs with him and he always makes me laugh. He has the best "Rolf Harris/anal sex" material on the circuit.
One irritation of the venue was the noise overspill from an adjoining alcove of the pub. There was a meeting of the "Foghorn Leghorn Appreciation Society" going on.
But I wish Keir and Paul all the best in their venture.
In the evening I headed up to Dundee. I had a gig at "Drouthy Neebors", a new club run by the renowned comedic talents of messrs Keir McAllister & Paul Pirie.
I just did 5 minutes and got an ok reaction. There weren't too many people there but it got busier later on.
I found that doing my set to silence the previous day had interfered with the rhythm of my delivery, and I had a few verbal stumbles. I was going to do some new material, but I think the Airdrie experience left me desperately craving laughter, so I ended up going for the tried and tested stuff. Scaredy custard.
Andy White was headlining. I've done a few gigs with him and he always makes me laugh. He has the best "Rolf Harris/anal sex" material on the circuit.
One irritation of the venue was the noise overspill from an adjoining alcove of the pub. There was a meeting of the "Foghorn Leghorn Appreciation Society" going on.
But I wish Keir and Paul all the best in their venture.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
01/04/05 One Big Silence
I had felt a slight trepidation about the lunchtime Call Centre gig in Airdrie.
I was right to feel this.
I picked up Reg Anderson who was also doing the show. We had a good and entertaining talk driving to Airdrie, as we tried to take our minds off what we had let ourselves in for.
We arrived at "beCogent" in Airdrie just before 12, and were asked to set up the PA etc in the canteen. The canteen was a large cavernous area, and had maybe about 25-30 people spread out having their lunch. I talked to a couple of the workers there and discovered that no-one had been told about this lunchtime comedy thing.
We were told that 12.30pm was the busiest time in the canteen, and we agreed to start then. There were still just a few people dotted about.
Reg took the mic...."Hello, are you ready for some comedy?" (silence) "Are you feeling happy. It's nearly the weekend!!" (silence)....
Reg introduced me and I proceeded to do 10 minutes of stand-up comedy to complete silence. (apart from the gentle clank of stainless steel on crockery).
It was a bizarre experience. I wouldn't really categorise it as "dying", mainly due to the fact that the audience just weren't interested, and weren't paying attention.
I eventually introduced Reg. I hadn't seem him before. I liked his stuff. Mad cabaret is probably the most accurate description. He uses a lot of props and is all over the place. He also has a fairly coarse tongue.
The person who'd arranged the gig for the company made me interrupt Reg's act to tell him to stop swearing, as she was afraid she would get into big trouble from the management.
Ironically this was my highest paying gig ever.
I didn't like that place. It had a very jaded ambience. I don't think the workers were very happy either. They only get a 20 minute lunch then it's straight back on to the phone lines again.
I don't think the canteen entertainment experiment will be repeated somehow.
I then proceeded to get lost trying to get out of Airdrie, and driving home took about 2 hours. Grrrr...
At night I attended the 5s Football Awards ceremony.
Witty banter was freely flowing throughout the evening.
I won the "Worst Dressed Player Award" for the 3rd year in a row. I was a bit shocked by this as I had consciously made more of an effort to display a certain sartorial elegance on the pitch. Obviously not enough though. And since I have won this award 3 times, I get to keep it for ever.
By sticking to "cooking lager", I reckon I was slightly less pissed than the "premium lager" boys. It definitely makes a big difference.
Myself and Dave Reilly, (my long time friend,fellow footballer and occasional musical collaborator www.crispycat.co.uk) had an interesting chat with the staff of a chip shop down Leith about the current Pope situation, and reflected on possible conspiracy theories relating to the demise of the previous Pope.
I had a Chicken Supper but only ate the chicken as the chips were a tad too greasy for my sophisticated palette.
I feel it is my duty to report that Dave ate some undisclosed supper, and then returned to the chip shop to buy more chips.
This was a great effort, and I think a new football award should be created.
"The Person Most Likely To Buy More Chips From A Chip Shop Immediately After Eating A Fish Supper Award"
I was right to feel this.
I picked up Reg Anderson who was also doing the show. We had a good and entertaining talk driving to Airdrie, as we tried to take our minds off what we had let ourselves in for.
We arrived at "beCogent" in Airdrie just before 12, and were asked to set up the PA etc in the canteen. The canteen was a large cavernous area, and had maybe about 25-30 people spread out having their lunch. I talked to a couple of the workers there and discovered that no-one had been told about this lunchtime comedy thing.
We were told that 12.30pm was the busiest time in the canteen, and we agreed to start then. There were still just a few people dotted about.
Reg took the mic...."Hello, are you ready for some comedy?" (silence) "Are you feeling happy. It's nearly the weekend!!" (silence)....
Reg introduced me and I proceeded to do 10 minutes of stand-up comedy to complete silence. (apart from the gentle clank of stainless steel on crockery).
It was a bizarre experience. I wouldn't really categorise it as "dying", mainly due to the fact that the audience just weren't interested, and weren't paying attention.
I eventually introduced Reg. I hadn't seem him before. I liked his stuff. Mad cabaret is probably the most accurate description. He uses a lot of props and is all over the place. He also has a fairly coarse tongue.
The person who'd arranged the gig for the company made me interrupt Reg's act to tell him to stop swearing, as she was afraid she would get into big trouble from the management.
Ironically this was my highest paying gig ever.
I didn't like that place. It had a very jaded ambience. I don't think the workers were very happy either. They only get a 20 minute lunch then it's straight back on to the phone lines again.
I don't think the canteen entertainment experiment will be repeated somehow.
I then proceeded to get lost trying to get out of Airdrie, and driving home took about 2 hours. Grrrr...
At night I attended the 5s Football Awards ceremony.
Witty banter was freely flowing throughout the evening.
I won the "Worst Dressed Player Award" for the 3rd year in a row. I was a bit shocked by this as I had consciously made more of an effort to display a certain sartorial elegance on the pitch. Obviously not enough though. And since I have won this award 3 times, I get to keep it for ever.
By sticking to "cooking lager", I reckon I was slightly less pissed than the "premium lager" boys. It definitely makes a big difference.
Myself and Dave Reilly, (my long time friend,fellow footballer and occasional musical collaborator www.crispycat.co.uk) had an interesting chat with the staff of a chip shop down Leith about the current Pope situation, and reflected on possible conspiracy theories relating to the demise of the previous Pope.
I had a Chicken Supper but only ate the chicken as the chips were a tad too greasy for my sophisticated palette.
I feel it is my duty to report that Dave ate some undisclosed supper, and then returned to the chip shop to buy more chips.
This was a great effort, and I think a new football award should be created.
"The Person Most Likely To Buy More Chips From A Chip Shop Immediately After Eating A Fish Supper Award"
31/03/05 One Big Laugh
It felt very strange to get up, have a light breakfast then head off to a dark basement bar at 9.30am to do a stand-up comedy spot.
I had a 10.00am slot booked in the "One Big Laugh" 36 hour continuous stand-up comedy event. The event was organised by Mac Star and Michael McEwan to raise funds for the "Depression Alliance" charity, (and the 36 hours was successfully reached, breaking the world record apparently!! yee ha!).
There were about ten people in the bar when I arrived. A few had been there all night and looked slightly the worse for wear.
Mac Star had been on stage for 6 hours to cover for some no-shows, and was knackered and slightly spaced out. He ended up doing 12 hours on stage altogether over the event which is pretty incredible.
My joke about the gig reminding me of when I played Hitler's Bunker shortly before he committed suicide got my biggest laugh....
I think I did about 15 minutes then handed back to Mac.
I spent the rest of the day getting more annoyed and irritated trying to organise this stupid communal repair. At last, the money is in place, and the work starts on Wed 6th April. The downside is that for the next 3 months there will be scaffolding up at the front and back of the building, and my sleep patterns will no doubt be badly disrupted.
I popped back into The Three Tuns later to watch some more of "One Big Laugh".
There was a nice raucous atmosphere, and it was a bit like a comedian's convention.
The only irritation was quite a lot of talking going on during the acts. I suppose this was inevitable. The problem with doing 36 hours of continuous stand-up is that there are no gaps at all where you can wander about the bar and have a blether. There is always someone talking on stage. Still, it was good fun, and good to meet up with some visiting funny types.
I had a 10.00am slot booked in the "One Big Laugh" 36 hour continuous stand-up comedy event. The event was organised by Mac Star and Michael McEwan to raise funds for the "Depression Alliance" charity, (and the 36 hours was successfully reached, breaking the world record apparently!! yee ha!).
There were about ten people in the bar when I arrived. A few had been there all night and looked slightly the worse for wear.
Mac Star had been on stage for 6 hours to cover for some no-shows, and was knackered and slightly spaced out. He ended up doing 12 hours on stage altogether over the event which is pretty incredible.
My joke about the gig reminding me of when I played Hitler's Bunker shortly before he committed suicide got my biggest laugh....
I think I did about 15 minutes then handed back to Mac.
I spent the rest of the day getting more annoyed and irritated trying to organise this stupid communal repair. At last, the money is in place, and the work starts on Wed 6th April. The downside is that for the next 3 months there will be scaffolding up at the front and back of the building, and my sleep patterns will no doubt be badly disrupted.
I popped back into The Three Tuns later to watch some more of "One Big Laugh".
There was a nice raucous atmosphere, and it was a bit like a comedian's convention.
The only irritation was quite a lot of talking going on during the acts. I suppose this was inevitable. The problem with doing 36 hours of continuous stand-up is that there are no gaps at all where you can wander about the bar and have a blether. There is always someone talking on stage. Still, it was good fun, and good to meet up with some visiting funny types.
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