20/11/05 Slightly Frazzled

(Dave and I relax with a drink before "The Stand" show begins)

I spent Thursday and Friday night at The Stand in Edinburgh. Richard Herring was headlining both nights, but Tony and Patrick, my "Park's Circus" co-accused were the support acts on Thursday and Friday respectively.
Tony had a bit of a tough one as he was constantly interrupted by a twat of a heckler who kept shouting "tits!".
Richard Herring came on. He was storming it, but at some point the same heckler piped up. This time it was "magpie tits", (RH was doing an extended monologue on "the magpie reward scheme" based on the song "M-a-a-a-g-p-i-e-e".
What followed was a glorious 20 minute sustained demolition job on the aforementioned heckler...
It was an absolutely beautiful and joyous thing and a true privilege to witness. The heckler didn't know what had hit him.
Later, I made a rather poor attempt at conversation by mentioning that I liked his Blog, to which he replied "thanks", then continued another conversation.
I felt slightly starstruck and also a bit of an arse. I just couldn't think of anything "worthy" enough to say, so made my excuses and left. (I was a bit drunk anyway, so wasn't really capable of producing any stimulating witticisms).
The next night, I attended with David and Anne Reilly. Patrick had a stormer. Andy Askins, a musical act from Middlesborough, also blew the roof off.
Unfortunately RH had a bad night. It just wasn't his kind of audience. They were going for quickfire gags and one-liners rather than extended surreal monologue stuff. It's a sobering thought that such a top comedian and one of my all-time comedy heroes can still have such a tough night at a comedy club.
I was slightly disappointed that there wasn't a heckler, as I would have loved to see a repeat performance of his spontaneous heckler destruction routine.
Another interesting observation of the evening was that I was in the company of Dave Reilly for approximately four and a half hours, and at no point in this time did he buy a CD. I phoned the "News of the World" straight after the show. They were reluctant to believe me and said they'd send a reporter round to check out my story.
(read his blog at http://www.crispycat.co.uk/ to study his CD addiction!)
After the show Patrick, myself, Richard and Chris (The Stand soundman) went to the next door casino and drank till 4.30am. I didn't gamble at all, although it might have been a good idea if I had, as it might have reduced my drinking rate.
I didn't feel very clever the next day, that's for sure.
It was a very enjoyable evening though, with high quality banter in evidence. I did feel a bit of a shameless ligger though...but hey...I got a hangover as a fitting punishment.

13/11/05 Naked Charity Calendars

As it's coming up to Xmas, we can expect to see a further plethora of Naked Calendars featuring normal members of the public posing in their birthday suits for charity.
I think this trend has now run its course.
I mean, is it just me, or has the sight of a village butcher coyly hiding his cock behind a strategically placed black-pudding lost some, if not all, of its mystique?
Can I suggest that if you are thinking of producing a calendar of this type, that you try to be a bit more outrageous?
There have been so many of the "funny" playful nudey ones, that you really have to up the ante somewhat, (there's a joke there somewhere isn't there?)
If it's the Womens Institute, I'd suggest hiring a couple of long haired male Hungarian porn stars to be photographed in an act of union with a prominent institute lady as she bends over naked, cutting cake shapes in some rolled out pastry.
Perhaps Mrs March could fellate an antelope while stirring a pot of home made lentil soup? Have I taken this too far? Am I losing my audience here?
I just think we have to be a little more outrageous to shock 21st Century Britain.
Perhaps, an alternative charity calendar could involve the models being wrapped up like Egyptian mummies in bandages, but with their gentialia being the only visible parts of their anantomy as they poke through strategic gaps in the bandaging.
That would be slightly different.
I noticed that the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq was doing a series of photo shoots for an unusual "Al Quaeda" naked charity calendar earlier in the year...
I'm not sure if it has been commercially released yet though. It could be a winner!

12/11/05 River City

"it's smiles all round as the cast of "River City" relax after a hard days filming!"
 

I'm certainly not an expert in acting, as my previous performances in the sphere of amateur drama have amply demonstrated.
For instance, who could ever remember my stunning portrayal of the Greek warrior, King Agamemnon in "Ion"? No-one of course...
People still talk in hushed tones, (in case I overhear them slagging me off) of how I took on 5 (yes, FIVE...count 'em) separate roles on a modern re-working of "The Canterbury Tales", but managed to come across as the same character in all of them, due to my un-chameleon like acting prowess.
Then there was my riveting portayal of Indio, one of the Sharks in "West Side Story" . I still wince and occasionally wake up in a cold sweat when I recall my dancing entrance onto the stage....In my head I was "George Chakiris", but to the audience it was probably more "Charlie Drake".
Anyway, in spite of all this, I feel I have to deliver a damning judgement on the standard of acting in the BBC Scotland soap "River City".
Yesterday, for the first time, I watched a whole episode ...
One of the best tips I ever heard about acting was to consciously "listen" to what the other actors were saying, and react accordingly. This may seem obvious. However, if you go to see a ropey amateur play, you often see people on stage who don't convince simply because they are just standing around waiting for the cue to say their line, and are not acting naturally.
This happens a lot in "River City". You can see them anticipating what's going to happen next, and it often feels like they are reading their lines from an autocue.
There are a few seasoned old pros who rise above this criticism, but some of the younger players are fairly desperate.
not that I'm one to criticise though....

11/11/05 Council Practical Joke Shock

I definitely need to lose a little weight. I can hardly get into my car these days. 

I was driving out of town towards the Forth Road Bridge. I saw a sign indicating that the outside lane would be closed in 600 yards due to road works.
You couldn't see exactly where the lane stopped as I was driving uphill and the work was going on over the brow of it.
I then went into "imminent one lane shutdown" mode.
This involves driving too close to the car in front, in order to stop queue-jumpers sneaking in too easily. I also like to scowl aggressively at those who race past in the outside lane intent on keeping there until the lane stops, then barging their way into the inside lane.
This situation is unsurpassed in bringing out the worst instincts in the driving classes. I'm surprised there aren't more "one lane shutdown" murders to report. It maybe gets hushed up by sinister civil servants to prevent countrywide unrest?
Anyway, as the line of traffic ambled slowly over the brow of the hill, it became apparent that there were no roadworks going on at all, and both lanes were open all the way out to Cramond.
All that angst and bad temper was totally unnecessary.
The bad guys who stick to the outside lane as long as humanly possible couldn't have been able to believe their luck, as they just kept going on an on, leaving the conscientious "knights of the road" crawling along for 10 minutes at 3mph.
Was this a joke by the Council roadplanner type people?
Was a scene being filmed for a new series of "Beadle's About"?
I suppose the good thing is that I'm now primed, and am unlikely to fall for another one of the Council's traffic practical jokes.
If for instance I see a sign telling traffic to reduce speed to 0.3 mph for the next 5 miles, or another sign insisting that drivers should have a small liquorice pipe in their mouths before joining the dual carriageway ; then I shall view them with suspicion and won't immediately comply with their request...
You fool me once, shame on you, you fool me again, shame on me...or so they say
"Nothing tastes as good as slim feels", (I heard someone say that on the radio today. It's quite a good mantra I suppose...)

10/11/05 Elected

There was fever pitch excitement around Coates/Murrayfield last night as the Edinburgh Council by-election took place.
There were literally several people hanging around the polling centre as I made my way to vote.
You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.
In fact, somebody did, and it created a strange continual hissing noise in the background as I cast my vote. I found this quite offputting, but carried on anyway.
It was a straight 2-way fight between the Tories and Lib-Dems. I voted Lib-Dem. I actually had one of the Lib-Dem helpers knocking on my door at 8.00pm asking me to vote. It was obviously going to be close.
The Tories won though.
I suspected as much, as the candidate looked a bit full of himself as I earlier passed him outside the polling centre.
On reading the results, I noticed that the UKIP (UK Independence Party) candidate had polled a massive 4 votes.
I was going to make a few cheeky remarks about the candidate, but read his website and found out he had a distinguished military career and has a red beret.
Therefore, I obviously don't want to annoy him too much, thus prompting a visit to my flat to hit me on the back of the head with one of these karate chops that Steed was occasionally fond of administering in "The Avengers", and in the process, killing me dead instantly.
But I have to say 4 votes is a spectacularly bad result.
I presume one of the votes was cast by himself...so that cuts it down to 3.
I would be having second-thoughts about embarking on a career in front-line politics. in light of this result.

07/11/05 Cliffhanger

Jim guffaws in the face of danger as he climbs a treacherous cliff face 600ft above a raging sea WITHOUT ropes. 

06/11/05 Not Very Good

I had a fairly mediocre gig at The Stand last night. I felt a bit rough before I went on.I'd not slept well the the previous night due to bad toothache, and was feeling a little spaced out. Not that I'm making excuses or anything.
Of course a few people I knew took the opportunity to come along and witness my sub-standard performance.
There was David and his rather odd sidekick Sandy, as well as Alex and Sue. I knew it wasn't that great a show. I didn't "die" as such, but the laughter was rather sparse, and I wasn't mobbed by a crowd of screaming female fans at the end of my set, as is usually the case. It just wasn't happening on that level for me at all.
I always know when aquaintances think I was poor. It's when the first thing they say is "You're really brave...". (that's what Sue said)
My blood runs cold when I hear that. It's the worst thing you can say to me. I'd much rather you just said you thought I was rubbish.
I mean, let's be clear about this. In the great scheme of things, it's NOT "really brave" at all. Maybe the first ever time requires a bit of bottle, but after that the fear evaporates to a large extent. Although, there's always a certain degree of nervousness before you go on, but you probably need that to sharpen up the performance.
I've done about 90 gigs now. The rough stats are ; approximately 15 have been absolutely fantastic, about the same again were devastatingly awful and the other 60 have been good, but not outstanding.
This gig definitely found a place in the bottom section.
You just have to take it on the chin, but it is slightly annoying that the people I knew who came along will retain a fairly jaundiced view of my abilities.
It's an injustice, it is. It's an injustice...

05/11/05 Chain Reaction

Today, myself and 4 of me old samba muckers took on the "Elie Chain Walk" and lived to tell the tale.
This is a coastal walk in Elie in Fife, whereby you clamber along the crags and cliffs of the coastline using strategically fixed chains to assist your progress.
It's pretty easy, but a fall could still be fairly disastrous as you would likely bounce on your head a couple of times on the jaggy crags before plopping into the sea ; thus cleverly recreating the notorious death of Piggy in William Golding's hilarious, light-hearted romp, "Lord Of The Flies".
I had to get up to 6am on a Saturday morning to participate in this event, which in itself is a feat of wonderment and daring.
I have to say though that the early morning sunrise and light was fantastic, and it really is worth the effort to crawl out of bed that early to experience it. Particularly, at this time of year where we are steadily descending into perpetual darkness.
After completing the course we dined and took beer at the "Ship Inn", sitting in front of a roaring log fire.
I just had a couple of pints, (as well as a half pint of Pimms and lemonade. Apparently this is "the only pub in Scotland with draught Pimms". This surprised me, as I'd always imagined there would be a massive demand for this product in Airdrie)
We then visited a cake shop.
For some reason I asked for a "stick" of Chocolate Orange Cake rather than a "slice".
It was a peculiar dyslexic moment that I could only put down to lack of sleep, the sea air and 2 pints of beer at an unseemly early time in the day.
There was a brief hiatus before everybody started giggling uncontrollably. This went on for about 10 minutes outside, and I was in severe pain from laughing at the end of it. I haven't laughed as hard as that since I inadvertently caught a bit of Status Quo "acting themselves" on Coronation Street.
On the way back I apparently snored like a wild boar in the back seat of the car.
Then I opened a bottle of cider, while the wheels went round. Great.

03/11/05 Danny Boy

I was heading in an easterly direction towards the Traverse bar when I passed a few mature, matronly ladies outside the Usher Hall.
It was 10pm, and the presence of sleeping bags and camp beds led me to the inescapable conclusion that they were intending staying the night at this spot.
My curiosity got the better of me and I strode towards them and asked what the queue was for.
There was an uncomfortable pause in which I was scrutinised by the assembled group.
I got the impression that the sentiment they were conveying was, "If you laugh and/or make a smartass remark about the information we are about to relay to you, vis-a-vis your verbal request, we shall take it upon ourselves to punch your lights out and leave you bleeding and concussed on the Lothian Road pavement"
The spokesman of the group then responded "Daniel O'Donnell".
I managed to keep a straight face, saying "Oh, ok, thank you", and then moved away from the scene.
I did feel a bit sorry for them as they were undoubtedly going to attract cheeky remarks from passing members of the great British public.
They'd obviously miscalculated the demand for tickets, as no more than 6 people had decided that an overnight vigil was necessary to secure precious briefs for Mr O'Donnell's show.
Still, at least they were guaranteed seats in the middle of the front row.
Well, I hope so anyway. There is always a danger of skullduggery involving highly prized tickets. Maybe the box office staff have secretly reserved the front two rows for a batallion of their aunties.
Is this a sign that Daniel's appeal is on the wane? Only 6 people willing to camp overnight for tickets?
Are the glory days over?
He sounds like the type of person I should invite to my next barbecue.
The publicity he gets might re-launch his faltering career, and I might get a support slot on his tour telling stories of cheeky, heartwarming family kerfuffles.

30/10/05 Friends Reunited

Ok, the blog a day thing isn't going to happen any more (sob!).
The trouble is when you're chained to a PC as an IT slave for 12 hours a day; the last thing you want to do is go home, log on and work at a different PC.
It's not as if there is much hilarious banter to be had anyway. It would just be a dreary series of essays on pain, tedium and the unbearable shiteness of being.
On a happier note I had a barbecue today for many of my ancient friends whom I haven't had the pleasure of seeing for many moons.
It was a splendid day, the joint was jumpin', and I "enjoyed" the whole thing so much it so much that I decided to go to bed long before the last guests left.
I was puzzled by this. I mean, it wasn't exactly like I was drinking all day...ah, although actually,come to think of it... I was, ...hmmm...
I suspect this act may be regarded with dismay by afficianados of social etiquette, and "doing the right thing" in any given situation.
However, it has to be said a few of my old friends never replied to my invitation, then didn't show up. I even had a couple of "texts" during the barbecue with a brief note saying they weren't coming.
As I know very well myself, the SMS message is the classic sneaky form of communication which precludes actually having to speak to the recipient. I use it all the time. But you're not allowed to do this to ME. That's different.
This is an outrage.
I didn't get where I am today by not replying to a barbecue invitiation and not turning up.
This is how Nazi germany started in the 1930s.
First of all it's shunning the barbecue, then it's a fiendish plot for global conquest and genocide.
I've now reluctantly decided to look on Ebay for new "old" friends.
Hopefully, I might be able to trade in my existing ones? Although, in reality, I may not get very much for them. Still, no harm in asking.
I'm mainly looking for people that laugh at my jokes and say things like "I've seen the future of comedy, and it's you". (obviously this has to be uttered without a trace of sarcasm, and I will hold "trials" to test potential friends to check their sincerity levels. So don't think I'll get fooled easily)
They'd also have to knock on my door occasionally, and ask if I'd like them to go the shops for me, and things like that.
Other than that, they should be kind to children and animals, be interested in world travel and don't say things like "do you know what I mean?" after every sentence, and not turn up more late to things than I do if we've arranged to meet.
There is a saying "you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your relatives".
Now, this is true to a certain extent, but as you get older, you are stuck somewhat with the friends you've accumulated so far in your life journey.
I think I might be viewed with suspicion if I told someone that I didn't currently have any friends as I had traded them all in for new ones, and I hadn't tested the new ones yet.
I'm torn. What should I do?
Is anyone interested in doing a friend swap?

26/10/05 Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....!

Not a good day.
Getting a sizeable amount of grief at work, and then compounded a crap day by injuring myself at football. I think I've torn a thigh muscle. Darn. I expect I'll be sidelined for a while.
What's strange is that I did it in both legs one after the other.
Another little avenue of pleasure is sealed off. Never mind. Worse things happen at sea.
I'm now walking around like the Tin Man.

25/10/05 Come In Mr McLeish, Your time is up...!

Of course I'm using the "Grim Reaper" in a metaphorical sense for Alex McLeish.
It's just referring to his job prospects as manager of the (once) mighty Rangers.
You know, it's like getting the "death" Tarot card. Doesn't actually mean you're going to "die" ; although a great Aunt of mine was given the card in a reading and died 57 years later, so there are obviously exceptions.
I think I've written that line in a previous entry but can't be bothered to check...
I'm mad I am!
I don't want anything to happen to him other than get slapped across the back of his head with a P45.
He's a nice bloke, but a terrible manager.
I'd like to give Archie Macpherson the job. He's got more experience of watching Scottish football than anyone in the Universe, and he seems to think he knows what he's talking about. he also goes "woof!" periodically, which I've always found very entertaining.
Also, his creative hairstyle could possibly open more sponsorship opportunities, and a MacPherson team could have the "Shredded Wheat" logo on their shirts.
Anything would be an improvement....
It would be much heathier than the current preponderance of alcohol sponsorship, and it would encourage Scottish youth to go prematurely bald and cultivate an extreme "comb-over" hairstyle.
This would be good news for the well being of the country as a whole...Woof Woof!

24/10/05 Back To The Stand

After the debacle of "The Three Tuns", it was nice to have a gig at The Stand.
It was absolutely packed out ; there was a good varied line up and I'm pleased to say I had a really good gig.
There was also the added bonus of not having a twat sitting in the front row shouting "Fatso!" at me for the whole duration of my set, (in spite of the fact that I'm SO not fat anyway!).
I've forgotten all about that now, and the comedy mojo is back in positive territory again.
If only all gigs were as great as Monday night at The Stand in Edinburgh, the world would be a better place.
Vladimir McTavish introduced me as "a man who recently had a makeover at Harvey Nichols for the "Scotland Today" news programme".
I came on and described my "look" as "Tramp Chic", and said that this look "was going to be massive".
This got quite a hearty laugh, however some bright spark at another gig might see it as an opportunity to shout, "You're massive already!"...
so I'll probably ditch that reference...

23/10/05 Return Of The Cheesemeister

I'm pleased to report the thrilling news that Cheesy McLoughlin, (his memorable nickname is explained here), has returned to Scotland to work at Abbey National and can currently be seen hanging around bars in the Southside of Glasgow.
He came up to Edinburgh during the Fringe and went to see "Park's Circus".
He said it was "better than I thought it was going to be...".
From the mouth of the Cheesemeister, that is the equivalent of a 5 star review in "The Scotsman".
I felt like I'd been awarded a lifetime achievement award for services to comedy. It was all very emotional.
The last time he had seen me before this was on a wet Monday night in Scarborough in October 2004. It was the 5th gig I'd ever done.
I expected to be performing in a small club with not too big an audience. However, I was shocked to discover it was in a big hall with approx 300 people in attendance.
I became exceedingly nervous about the whole thing and had something of a disaster as I hurtled through my set at a ridiculous, unintelligible pace to a bemused Yorkshire audience.
Seeing I was clearly rattled, Cheesy spent the next 2 hours going over my performance in forensic detail ; gleefully highlighting the particularly dreadful and cringeworthy moments of my "performance".
He is a true friend. He obviously thought that in administering a "kicking me senseless while I am down already" critique, it would ultimately prove useful to me in terms of character building, and give me some future resilience to incidents of this nature.
I would strongly refute any suggestion that he took sadistic pleasure in all this. It would be wrong to think that.
I remain vaguely confident that it was done with my best interests at heart.
I actually empathised strongly with Cheesy at the weekend as I shared his crushing disappointment at the goal awarded to West Ham against Middlesboro, when the ball had clearly not crossed the line.
This was a cruel injustice, and any suggestion that I was rolling on the floor laughing and thumping my fist off the carpet, would be well wide of the mark.

22/10/05 Retro Night Out

Just like back in the olden days, I'd arranged to meet some drouthy neebors at the incredibly early kick-off time of 7.30pm.
One of the dangers of going out that this time is the realisation that you are afforded a large window of opportunity for quaffing beer.
And so it proved!
Bert's Bar in William St was the venue. Present were Mark, Lorna and reformed Dundonian ned, Grahame.
Topics covered were ;
An analysis of various conspiracy theories relating to the surprise exit of George Burley the Hearts manager, (could it be dodgy bookmakers blackmailing Burley, as they anxiously pondered having to pay out on Jamie Frain's bet?).
Shock news of Samba Ya Bamba's upcoming appearance on the critically acclaimed "Craig Hill" show this Friday on BBC Scotland.
A discussion of the merits of Jack Vettriano. I argued in favour of the man, even though I don't really like his stuff at all. I suspect this was the Deuchars IPA talking, as I assumed the role of a ventriloquist's dummy for the shaky midnight till 1am slot.
We agreed to do the Elie Chain Walk with Grahame. This involves clambering along rocky cliffs holding on to a chain, occasionally slipping onto the rocks below and getting airlifted to hospital.
It sounds like a good day out indeed.

21/10/05 One From The Vaults

Whilst sadly, very sadly running a Google search on my own name, I came across a review of one of my embryonic comedy gigs down in sunny Bolton.
This was ages ago and it is quite odd to read it so long after the event.
Anyway, it's vaguely positive...and here it is....

"Jim Park then stepped in front of the crowd, informing us of his confusion about the equestrian events in the athletics, his thoughts on how running should be made more visibly quantifiable by getting a normal person to participate, of his extremely rebellious attitude towards soup, and the pointlessness of Tales of The Unexpected repeats. A touch nervous, he spent a lot of time talking down into the microphone, which resulted in some of the material being lost, but with a bit more gig experience I expect that he will be a fine act to watch."

eh? eh? ...."fine" (well, expectation of anyway)
I suppose I could put "fine act to watch" on posters as a quote?
That should have thousands of people making a beeline to my next performance I would have thought.

20/10/05 Oh dear...

The last time I'd done a gig at "The Three Tuns" was on the 7th July. I rmember this clearly, as it was the day of the tube bombings in London.
At the time I wasn't in the mood, but ironically had a great gig in front of an extremely rough crowd.
That wasn't the case this time.
One pissed idiot shouted at me all through my 15 minute set.
I'd worn a t-shirt which was a bit on the small side for me, and this prompted the pissed man to call me "fatso" repeatedly and at high volume.
This is a ridiculous assertion, as my current regime of cycling to/from work, 3 games of football a week, 3 runs round the Meadows a week, a blanket ban on fast food, and a weekly delivery of organic fruit and veg, have left me sleek and giselle like.
It also helps that I bought a collection of second-hand mirrors from a fairground's "Hall of Mirrors" booth. I look really slim, but unfortunately my head is 4 feet wide.
But it's a worthwhile compromise I think.
I think it must be that being seen on stage puts 10 pounds on you, as is supposed to happen when you appear on TV.
"Fatso" indeed!
This was one of these nights where you wonder to yourself why on earth you are submitting yourself to this very public ritual of torture and humiliation.
If it was one of my first few gigs, I would definitely have sworn never to do it again in the aftermath of this debacle.
However, experience is a wonderful thing, and I realise that this is just an occupational hazard, and is an integral part of this wacky business.
The problem is that this is a "free" gig in a bar.
There is no audience etiquette apparent for acts.
You get some nights when the random crowd in the bar are really up for comedy and are appreciative of the acts.
And then you get nights like tonight where you have people who look like they've been drinking for 3 days continuously, baying aggressively at all the acts, as some form of blood sport.
I won't be back!

19/10/05 New Material

I had the evening earmarked to spend a couple of hours working on new material
for a gig I had the following night at "The Three Tuns".
Instead, i spent 3 hours working out what was recorded on piles of ancient VHS videos which have been lurking for years in my cupboard.
Twat...!
(Interesting voyage of discovery throught the archives though. More on this later)

18/10/05 Johnny Haynes

I was saddened to hear of the death of Johnny Haynes.
He ran a dry cleaning shop at the bottom of my street.
However, he was also the England football captain when England narrowly beat Scotland 9-3 at Wembley in 1961, (he scored a couple of goals himself that day as well)
He was also the face of the Brylcream TV ad in the UK in the 60s.
This was a much vaunted role at the time, and made him the 60s equivalent of a contemporary supermodel like Archie MacPherson.
Does anyone wear Brylcream these days? I seem to remember it having something of a pungent whiff about it. Maybe it's due a comeback?
Or has hair gel triumphed?

17/10/05 Curb Your Enthusiasm

I just finished watching the DVD of the 4th Series.
It is now without a doubt my favourite sitcom of all time.
It's a shame that not more people have seen it.
I know it's very popular with comedy anoraks and people that dabble in the stand-up game. However, it seems to have passed under the radar of the wider UK population at large.
It's written by and starring the great Larry David, one of the co-creators of "Seinfeld."
He made my favourite acceptance speech when he was presented with an Emmy award for
"Seinfeld".
"This is all well and good, but I am still bald..."