6092/19021The
last two mornings by son has woken me up singing a bad version of a
terrible song, Baby Shark. Yesterday it was at 5.15am which was a bit
early. Today it was 6.15am and so I felt grateful to him. This is how
you get Stockholm syndrome.
21
shows in 24 days is a lot. It’s hard to believe I am only at number 8
and today (maybe cos of the Baby Shark dawns, but I am not 100% over the
bug yet) I felt exhausted by the walk to the venue.
There
was a good crowd of 272 people in and two excellent guests: Steph
Tisdell and Jen Brister, who talked with humour and also some
seriousness about their lives. I was pretty pleased with the way it
went, especially with the history lesson about the unbelievable
treatment of the indigenous population of Australia. It’s
a ramshackle performance from me at times, but that’s part of the charm.
Right?
I’m very
pleased with the way it’s all going, though my good mood was slightly
dampened by the news when I got out of the venue. Jeffrey Epstein had
somehow died in prison. One must assume suicide of course, but given he
had already apparently attempted suicide last week, you’d think they’d
have been on the look out for that. But a watched prisoner
never kills themselves and it’s always the way that that sort of thing
happens only when you’ve taken your eyes off them for a second.
Some conspiracy
theorists might think that some of the powerful men that Epstein hung
around with might somehow have arranged this death and with Prince
Andrew all over the papers today because of that association, I did feel
a little nervous given some of the things I might, or might not have
said on my podcast. But it’s not like the royal family have a history of
rubbing out people who annoy them. So probably I’ll be OK, right? As
long as I don’t say anything stupid tomorrow.
It’s
great that America has so quickly become Russia though. It’s hard to
mourn Epstein, but the bravado of this event is chilling. And onwards we
stumble into darkness.
I
was too knackered to do much prep for the show tomorrow tonight and
after I’d finally got the kids bathed and to sleep (my favourite thing
this week is every day my daughter has said she doesn’t want to bath
with her brother and that I should do him first and I leave her watching
TV, but every time she strips her clothes off in the TV room and then
rushes in to jump into the bath first and then plays merrily with him
for 15 minutes), so I watched the start of the annoying film “Now You
See Me†before getting too tired to see the denouement, but I expect it
involved everyone talking in the same tone of voice and made no kind of
logical sense.
I have managed to get
this far into the Fringe without having an alcoholic drink. But my wife
has left some cans of gin and tonic in the fridge (and a Toblerone) and I
worry she will soon return to find me naked and drunk on the floor,
having pissed myself and smeared in chocolate.
Have resisted so far, though am eating a lot of junk to help push me onwards.
Yesterday’s podcast is now up here
And today’s is here
See Steph Tisdell in Aboriginal All Stars
Sunday is Tony Slattery and Isma Almas. I think there could be fireworks.
