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I tweeted out, apropos of nothing, “I wish he’d died in that plane crashâ€.
I didn’t say who I meant - it didn’t follow on from any conversation. It could have been referring to fact or fiction. Or anything at all. A few people joked back, mainly homing in on the same possibility, though one person did ask me what I had against Harrison Ford. Only one person came back angry with me saying how could I wish such a thing as he has kids. I wondered who they thought I meant. Might be worth checking.
I was actually referring to Sawyer from Lost. My wife fancies him more than she fancies me (and to be frank I think it’s disgusting, given she is married that she not only harbours such fantasies but also goes on about them - but I guess I am just old fashioned). If the character had died in the original crash then I wouldn’t have to keep worrying about my wife running off with a fictional person and finding a man who is frankly just a less attractive version of me, sexy.
I don’t think he has kids. But if he does they are fictional. So it seems odd to get upset. Or not to at least just check who I was talking about or whether I meant it.
I was interested to hear that Donald Trump had said he was the least racist person ever. Because racism is hard to quantify like that, but also you either are racist or you’re not. People who aren’t racist aren’t the least racist, they are just not racist. So by saying you’re the least racist person you are acknowledging that you are a little bit racist. So nice to have that cleared up.
I got a call from lovely Barry Cryer who had heard that I had mentioned him on my 5Live interview yesterday. He was clearly chuffed with my positive remarks, which is cool, but it’s always good to hear his voice and he proved my point about his continued engagement with and love of comedy. A phone call is so much more personal than a tweet or an email. Barry remains old school cool, whilst still staying interested in what’s going on. He gives me hope that nice guys can finish last. Also he likes a smoke and a drink and is still rolling along, which gives me hope that I might be able to do my planned, “Oh Anus, I’m 80!†show in 30 years time.
If I get that far then I am not yet halfway through my career. Longevity is my only hope. I am not sure I am going to make it.
Show two of the Leicester Square Theatre wasn’t quite as much fun as yesterday and the audience were a little tougher to get completely on side. But it was still a good one. It was only a couple of dozen seats away from a sell out, so that’s good news (though looking back at the same three dates on the last tour, I sold almost exactly the same number of tickets, so its consolidation rather than progress, but consolidation is easily enough). A huge amount of only-just-latecomers arrived during the first joke and I commented that this was a feature of the show. Because I find making people laugh so easy now I have to make it more difficult for myself by getting dozens of people to walk in and out during every joke.
Following a comment by someone who saw the show in Leicester I have also corrected a joke that used the word “genuses†rather than the correct plural “generaâ€. I am also attempting to correct the maths in the Ferrero Rocher routine. I did OK with both tonight, but it’s amazing how little changes like this can change the pace and confidence of a well-rehearsed routine. I did find myself thinking about both issues minutes before they came up too, as I was doing different material. And the voice in my head that says “What if you fuck this up? You’re going to fuck this up?†was back today, especially in the genealogy of Christ bit. Though I actually nailed that tonight, so fuck you voice in my head. You can’t destroy me.
