Still not quite shifting my Edinburgh lurgy, which means I am trying to reserve what little energy I have for my shows. It's tougher than you might think doing two hour long sets. Not that tough. But tougher than you think.
My illness is pretty much down to the three nights in a row that I stayed out until 1am, drinking two or three glasses of booze. I am a long way away from the 1990s Fringes where I would drink all night long, wake up after two hours sleep, dry-retching and then go and do my shows, before starting the whole thing again. I have hardly been out at all and there are dozens of friends here that I haven't even bumped into. In fact looking at the posters in the Pleasance Dome (where I was doing an extra 3 minute set in the Chortle Fast Fringe, which even I will admit is not a taxing job) I realised there are dozens of acts here that I didn't even know were in town and plenty more that I've never heard of. The competition is ridiculous and much as I have dared to admit that my attendances are disappointing, that's only judged by the yardstick of my last two years. There are a whole lot of poor fuckers out there who have slogged their hearts out to produce a new show and who are getting 2 punters and no reviews. It's character building and personally I think it's a good thing that it takes acts five or six years to get anywhere (as it will make them better at what they do and sort the wheat from the chaff) hopefully they will return. But I am sure that many potentially great acts will give up on their dreams this year. To be honest I am thinking of finally giving up on my dreams. If you haven't cracked it after quarter of a century then maybe you can really only blame one person.
We were going to have a takeaway after the show tonight, but the restaurant we rang up seemed overwhelmed by the idea of providing their advertised service at 9.30pm on a Sunday evening - either they were rammed full of customers or a bit rubbish at what they're doing - so we ended up going out, even though I had really been looking forward to a takeaway on the sofa and a DVD.
In Edinburgh it's hard to have a romantic meal for two as you're pretty likely to know someone else in the place and sure enough we knew the people at the next table and got talking to them. One of them told us about the A list Hollywood star who has been in town (I won't name him, but it shouldn't take you too long to work out who it is) had been up in the Loft Bar at the weekend (a slightly exclusive bar for performers in the Gilded Balloon). The star had had a girl on each arm and apparently had been kissing both women and then, so my source says, encouraged them to kiss each other. I was quite envious, not of the movie star, who at 51 years old should probably know better (but then I am hardly one to really talk), but of my friend who had witnessed this event. It's got to the stage where I am jealous not of people doing crazy, hedonistic stuff, but just the people who are there to observe them doing it. Because I was back in my flat drinking Lemsip and watching Community.
Another man at the table, who had already professed his love of sci-fi (and had told us he got married wearing a Starfleet uniform) said that his own personal best celebrity spot at the Loft Bar was out on the roof terrace. There was a full moon at the time and Mars was visible in the sky. And then between the two heavenly bodies he saw former Doctor Who star Sylvester McCoy. It was a similar celestial threesome, but I suspect McCoy didn't take the moon and Mars back to his hotel room afterwards and bang them senseless. But I loved my dining companion's enthusiasm and glee at having witnessed this. He'd considered going up to him and saying hello, but realised that sitting back and watching was the best thing.
By the way I am very happy to give piggy backs to actual fans of my work, but can you please ask me before hopping on so I can assess whether it's advisable. I have not got so grand that I won't piggy back my fans. It's a service I have offered for many years and will continue to do so as long as my back holds out. I just want some warning. And as with so many things, you must wait for my consent before you hop on.
Tickets for the next couple of days of Talking Cock (from Monday) will be 2 for 1 on the day if you buy them from the Udderbelly box office. That's just £7 a seat. Cheap enough for you Edinburgh? I am really happy with the show and it goes a lot better if there are people in (though tonight's smallish audience was actually much better than the full one on Saturday) and it's got to the point where I'd rather have the seats filled than worry about the monetary loss I am incurring. It looks like being a quiet third week - it usually is- but after a quiet 1st week and quite quiet second week this is the last thing we all needed. A lot of shows are doing similar deals, so make the most of them Edinburgh. You've got lots to lose if the Festival diminishes.
I've begun the long process of signing the limited edition programmes (183 to do this year) which will be posted out to the people who donated to get their names in. Please send me your postal address if you haven't already, donors. And thanks so much for your support (though I always secretly curse you at this time of year!)
