Harpenden looked a lot lovelier than I had imagined this afternoon. Given its proximity to Luton I was expecting a similar kind of place, but it was leafy and had a village green and as I arrived they had arranged a parade in my honour (I am presuming) complete with bagpipers and brownies and girl guides. We had a lot of time to kill before the gig and I tried to do some work in Caffe Nero (because Harpenden looks like a village, but has proper shops presumably because the people who can afford to live here are all loaded), but I made no further progress on the script that I had hoped to finish by the end of the month.
I wondered about living somewhere like this. As I get older there's an increasing part of me that would like to get out of London and into somewhere with a bit of peace and quiet (and a Caffe Nero and an M&S). Harpenden is only half an hour from St Pancras by train, which is actually less time than it would take me to get there from Shepherd's Bush. But then again if you saw Andrew Collings' shit stand up show "Secret Dancing" (and if not
buy it here - it has to be seen to believed) then you will know how unhappy he was when he moved out into the suburbs. But travelling around the country you do start to fantasise (or at least imagine) how it would be to live in different places - and with all the driving it's partly down to thinking that there might be a better place than London for getting to all these diverse towns (if I lived in the Midlands then I could have come home from a lot more gigs), but in reality it would be a big upheaval and I might end up miles from my nearest Nandos. And I would have to hire in urchins to come and slash my tyres and steal my iPhone. Because there is no crime in the countryside, right.
I doubt I will be moving anytime soon, but I worked out tonight that I already spend around about five months of my life outside of London anyway.
Oh dear I am getting old.
The Harpenden Halls is a lovely venue run by enthusiastic and friendly people who had laid on an amazing rider including French Fancies and little sausages and breadsticks. It was like a birthday party.
The Halls are named in honour of Eric Morecambe who lived in the area (you'll remember he supported Luton - showing they have had at least one fan who was a gentleman rather than a petulant thug). I felt a bit guilty doing my rude and childish show in a room associated with a man who I consider to be one of the greatest comedians of the last hundred years, who I am sure would not have approved of my show. There were also a trio of white haired elderly people in the audience who didn't seem to be enjoying things at all (indeed they left at the interval), which highlighted the issue. But times have changed and it seemed that the majority of the audience were enjoying themselves. There was a family on the front with two young daughters (I think the youngest was 12) and they seemed to like it, so I suppose it's better to be appealing to the younger generation.
The staff were keen to have a drink with us after the show, which would have been a lovely thing to happen on almost any other night if we were staying in a hotel, but we were only 45 minutes from home and both keen to get back to see our loved ones, so we had to decline. Because it had been an early start I was home before 11, which was wonderful.
Home is about people not location it turns out.
Twenty shows to go now. That didn't feel like the 74th date of the tour. Still enjoying it, but have to take one show at a time, because if I think too much about it then I start to wither.
Oh yeah and here's the latest draft of the new poster. What do you think?
click here for bigger version 
