Off to Cheddar this afternoon ahead of the Bristol gig tonight and the home town show
As always my mind can't process the time that has passed since I myself was the child playing in this garden. Thirty years ago I was on my year off and my mind turning towards University in the autumn. As I drove up Shipham hill I thought, as usual, about the terrible slog of a bike ride that I had to take to go and see my girlfriend. There was a bit in the middle where there was a steep downward section followed by another hill and I used to see how much momentum I could build up and how far I could get up the hill without pedalling. That memory seems as fresh as anything, but I am almost certain I haven't done that bike ride since 1986. How can that be?
There's a cliff face as you drive into nearby Churchill, where in the mid-80s someone had climbed up high and painted the phrase "Jesus Saves" or was it something about nuclear power? Or maybe both. That cliff is now graffiti free and whoever wrote that is probably in his or her sixties or older or not here any more either. And a little further along I passed the clump of three horse chestnut trees where me, Steve Cheeke and his dad went conkering in what must have been about 1978. Time can surely not be linear, because I can stil smell the autumn air and see the sunlight through the branches and remember my pathetic attempts to throw up sticks to knock down conkers and get a flash of that deep, shiny chestnut colour of the prizes that we accidentally dislodged.
Anyway, I am sure you'll get a lot more of this tomorrow and that my daughter will get a similar barrage of tales every time we visit this county, just as I got from my dad as we drove through the streets of Middlesbrough. So I will shut up about my disbelief that I am knocking on the door of 50, rather than still being 15 and let you mourn the brutal passage of time yourself.
It was another big gig tonight, and a very meaningful and emotional one for me as I was on stage at the Old Vic in Bristol and over 500 people were coming to see me. I think we played here as Lee and Herring and it was one of the rare gigs where we sold very well, but it's been a long journey to get back into this room and so an especial delight to be on stage at this beautiful theatre. I nearly did the DVD record here and I almost wish I had as this was an exceptional show, where I messed around and everything hit and my almost home crowd were very much on the same wavelength. I continued to find ways to improve the show very subtly. My new favourite thing is to very subliminally mime my wife smelling the melted urine that has fallen from the plane toilet. I am not sure anyone would notice, but it's an important touch for me. I did it the first time in Cardiff, I think, but forgot it the second time. It makes the joke almost imperceptibly funny and edges the performance closer to the ultimate and unattainable goal of perfection.
I worry the show is a bit too long now, but I feel I held the attention of the room throughout. Occasionally a performance comes along which feels special and exceptional and for all kinds of reasons tonight was one of those. I drove home to Cheddar to find myself locked out of the house, with no key and everyone seemingly asleep and thought I might have to sleep in the car. Not wanting to wake my wife and baby who'd had a difficult evening I tapped at the front door until my mum came down and let me in. The door hadn't been locked, my parents insisted, in which case their door is broken, because it wouldn't open.
By my bedside table was a photo of my paternal grandfather with my fraternal niece. He was a very old man and she was a baby of about Phoebe's age. I was surprised that their lives had crossed and that they'd met, but I loved that photo. In his nineties and almost blind he was so happy to have this new bundle of hope on his knee. It's sad that he never got to see how her life panned out, but he'd be about 120 by now and that'd probably be a bit unpleasant for him. I am glad that these two remarkable family members met each other. And that the spirit of one of them lives on in all his grandchildren, including the one he had no hope of ever meeting.
