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I met up for breakfast with Doug Segal, a man I think might be in a real life The Santa Clause situation, except that he is preparing to take over from Brian Blessed if he ever falls off a roof, which let’s face it, is pretty likely. Doug has a podcast in which he chats with comedians over the first meal of the day. Usually with comedians this would happen at about 11, but because I knew I’d be up before 7 he was meeting me at 8.30. I had already had half a breakfast at the slightly weird B&B we were staying in, but managed to gobble up some waffles and bacon as I waffled on about myself.
The podcast we recorded should be out in the next couple of weeks. I tried to discuss Adam Sandler and the huxterism of showbiz. I don’t think I have got my argument quite down yet, but it’s an interesting area to explore.
Having the family with me on tour is lovely, but it made me realise how much of touring is trying to relax as much as possible before the show. I was pretty much exhausted by 6pm and hoped I would have something left for the people of Norwich. I had jokingly suggested to my wife that she become my tour manager and we travel round the country as a family in a big Scooby Doo van, having adventures. But I think it’s good that she has a proper job of her own and that she largely avoids having to deal with me as I prepare for performance. A month in Edinburgh with me at my absolute paranoid and exhausted worst is probably enough.
I was tired enough to have a nap when Phoebe was having her nap. I can’t remember the last time this happened, but it was certainly in the early months of her life. There was no time to write blogs or do the bits and bobs of work I have to do (even before I start thinking about the new Edinburgh show, the first preview of which is about three weeks away). Stewart Lee had predicted that I wouldn’t be able to keep the blog going once I had a kid, and it is certainly more of a challenge (not only because nothing much is happening to me apart from working and being a dad and then going to bed - perhaps it will soon have to become a dream journal. How brilliant would that be?)
I will keep on blogging for now though, in the vain hope that something will come up that I can turn into stand up. It is with some relief that I note that I didn’t start writing Oh Fuck I’m 40 until the previous tour had ended
on 11th June 2007. But then life was presenting me gift wrapped routines back then.
I also wrote Happy Now? incredibly quickly. So having the luxury of nearly three months to get a tight hour is probably enough. I am glad in many ways that my life is dull and I am sure there is much to say about the juxtaposition between the man I was 10 years ago and the man I am now (and possibly through the medium of snooker). I am just sorry that these blogs aren’t as scintillating and depressing as they used to be.
Tonight’s Norwich audience was slightly tougher to crack than last night’s, even though it was nearly full. Or maybe my old bones were just creaking more and it was hard to build up to the cheeky glee and playfulness that really makes this show fly (and luckily it’s still nearly all genuinely glee - I am really enjoying dicking around with this show).
The mechanics of performance and the construction of a joke still fascinate me. And it’s amazing with this show full of old material that I sometimes manage to find a new way to make something work.
I have been more or less ending the half with a joke I have done many, many times (in both runs of Talking Cock and all through this tour) -" I have stared into the abyss, knowing that some man somewhere has probably tried to put his cock in it.” It never gets that big a laugh, but I really like it and sometimes discuss how my sense of humour is better than the audience’s and they were wrong not to adjudge it the best joke of the half.
But in the last couple of shows I have decided to make it “I have stared into the abyss, knowing the some man somewhere has put his cock into it.” And it seems to work much better. And get almost a decent end of half laugh. It’s too early to judge if it’s just coincidence, or due to me performing it in a different way or with a different energy due to the change. Brevity is the soul of with and all that, but who would have predicted that “probably tried to” was the bit that was stopping that being funny. In some ways I prefer the image conjured up by “probably tired to” because it suggests a man struggling to work out how to have sex with something as big as an abyss, but maybe on first hearing that’s too much to process. Perhaps it’s just funnier thinking of a man so horny he will happily have sex with an abyss. Maybe it’s just rhythm, maybe it won’t work as well the other times I perform it. I find it fascinating though that you can do a line so many times, know it’s not quite hitting and still take so long to find a way to make it work. But the fact that you don’t give up and still keep trying to improve it is probably the key.
I fancy also that another of my favourites, the joke about not knowing the meaning of the word hubris might have a little twist in it which will make it work better. But it’s near the start of the show and so far I have backed away from making the change that I think might make it go better.
Anyway, I worked hard and it was a satisfying show and I felt good about it afterwards, before returning to my sleeping daughter and exhausted wife.
I fucking love my job. I love my family. How lucky am I? Pretty lucky is the answer.
