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I’d had a missed call when I was on stage last night from a number that I didn’t know. I don’t get many calls, so it was odd to get one so late. I listened to the message this morning. An Irish man said, "Hello? This is Andrew Oak. I’ve got the nails and the hammer here at Plumster (?). I’ll come in with them if you let me know where to come to before you (unintelligible)” I didn’t think it was worth ringing him back to let him know he’d got the wrong number, but I wondered why he was ringing about this so late at night and whether "nails and hammer" is a code for something else (unusual to say it that way round). But if you know an Andrew Oak who has some nails and a hammer and is waiting for a return call then let him know he should check the number and ring again. Unless he was actually trying to get through to me, in which case, ring again and we’ll sort out a meeting time.
Much as I love playing the Frog and Bucket (and am sure I will continue to do so), playing a one night stand gig so far from home is probably foolish behaviour for a man of my age. Even though I travelled by train this time so avoided an exhausting drive, I was still largely too tired to get much done today. If I am going to make excursions to gig this far from home then I either have to group them together to justify the trip (as I do with my tours) or get paid enough to make giving up two days of my life worthwhile. I am off to Newport on Friday for another one night stand, though will be driving home from that one. Get tickets here.
I don’t sleep well in hotels any more and though I had an excellent opportunity to catch up on sleep without having to get up to wipe a baby’s undercarriage, I still woke up at 6.15, more or less the exact time that I have to get up to welcome Phoebe to another day. So I used the time to complete these questions asked by comedy-loving hobbit, Bruce Dessau. The early hour and the fact that I am old and thus have little left to lose meant I could be quite honest in my responses.
The train journey was quick and easy, in an uncrowded train and quite reasonably priced (£46 return). I’d like to go to more gigs by train, but it’s not really practical for me. I generally have too much stuff with me (this time I posted the programmes in advance and didn’t bother selling any merch) and I want to get home after gigs whenever I can and the trains don’t run late enough. Also if I am doing a run of five or six gigs in a row around the country then it’s even more impractical - I’d have to post all my programmes and march ahead and then post back any unused programmes and march and carry a big suitcase…. I know Robin Ince did his tours by train, but suspect that might have been part of the reason he wanted to give up. Going by car means you run to your own timetable and can see your family a lot more. But for this one off at least, training it worked.
And the little laughing magnet that is my daughter drew me home, yanking at my insides and making them ache, but it was good to see her (though I don’t think she’d noticed that I’d gone). She is another reason that out of town gigs don’t have the appeal they once did. I love doing the shows, but everything around them means I am just a travelling salesman hawking gags and swearing at drunk men on a balcony.
I am not going to give it up. It’s my job and it’s a fun one comparatively and I need to earn money more than ever now as I have the responsibility of keeping another human being alive. But it’s just interesting how the job changes as you get older. And as I say in the interview (I think), it’s more about doing the job well now, than all the ephemera around it. I don’t mind the loneliness any more because I have stuff worth getting home to. And it’s well paid by any standards, but that 2 hours of work is surrounded by 22 hours of travelling and waiting and fractured sleep, which does impact on the hourly wage.
I am certainly not complaining. I think I might be the luckiest human being that ever lived. Just juxtaposing!
Robin Cooper has made a phone call to the Leicester Square Theatre enquiring about the nature of the bodcast with me and Robert Popper (also Luisa Omielan) on Sunday at 4pm. It’s come to something when the person trying to sell the tickets admits that the act they’ve got on is either loved or hated. But it’s true and she deals with the call so charmingly that it all really made me laugh. Two great guests and I think this will be a good one, so come along if you can (it’s a bit quiet at the moment). Book here or buy tickets on the door.
