5319/18239
An interesting RHLSTP tonight in that it saw the reunion after well over five years of Collings and Herrin. We haven’t even seen each other for most of that time, but I always liked working with Andrew and feel like I owe him for supporting me when other people weren’t all that interested and for getting me into podcasting. But also it would be interesting to see what happened and if it was all water under the bridge now.
I think it is probably fair to assume that it isn’t, but we got an entertaining and interesting and only partially awkward chat out of it. I thought that it would be best to draw a veil over what had gone wrong and who was to blame (because it was obviously Andrew), but fortified with a couple of beers, things did occasionally drift that way and my response was basically not to get involved and move on, though it’s fascinating to see how two people can process the same events so differently. And though there’s still a bit of pain behind it all and I am not sure we’ll be bounding back to do more podcasts any time soon, there’s still a lot of love and respect there and we slotted back into something like the original roles. Well at times. The dynamic was changed by it being my show and me asking the questions and him trying to subvert it, rather than the other way round. I had forgotten what a strange man he can be (and I mean that in a good way) and at its best he would talk obsessively about something weird that no human being should care about and I was confounded by this. Collings claimed that I had never been interested in him or his life and never asked him questions outside of the podcast. Perhaps he was joking. I thought we confided in each other a good deal and considered him my best friend. I certainly saw nobody as regularly apart from my wife. Maybe this just demonstrates my lack of sociability.
I’d listened back to one of the shows in the afternoon, something I only very rarely did at the time, and I was surprised at how good it actually was. Also how wrong and how far things would get pushed and the wrong thing would be said. But with such charm and humour that only an idiot could really take offence. And back then idiots hadn’t taken over all of social media and wouldn’t have been aware of this sweary and wrong corner of the internet. I was impressed by the ease of the conversation and the confidence and abandon and by the flights of fancy from both of us. Given we generally worked without an audience. But it was nearly ten years ago and we were young and our brains sharper and less encumbered. We just didn’t seem to give a fuck and that was refreshing to hear, even when some of the things I said back then now make me wince a little bit. It was an exciting time and we both allowed our lack of mainstream success or commitments to push us on to wild and wonderful areas. My childish obsession with sex and bumming tempered by his dull fixations on stuff that turned out to be comedy gold.
I mean, it’s a bit rich for me to call him strange.
I’d have maybe liked it if the embarrassing bits hadn’t been there and we’d just stepped back and agreed to forget about the past (which is big of me, because as I said before I am blameless), but it was more fascinating and edgy as a result of the awkwardness. We had a hug on stage and a drink off stage. Andrew is a good man and just occasionally his own worst enemy, but it is stupid we allowed a disagreement to get in the way of our (faux) friendship. I mean he’s a much better person than some of the cunts I’ve worked with.
Or maybe I am the cunt. I mean there’s no way I am going to allow that belief to permeate, but it’s hard to think of a better explanation of why things have turned out like they have for me!
Self-awareness is the most difficult nut to crack. We know ourselves better than anyone and yet most of us will have huge blind spots when it comes down to it.
Whatever it was that happened tonight and we’d both had a drink so it’s hard to be sure, those days in my attic between 2008 and 2012 were filled with giddy laughter and naughtiness, but alas no bumming.
My other guest Zoe Lyons was also terrific value though there wasn’t the fizz of past disappointments to add fuel to the flames. We’re six shows in in terms of the series (though only one has been released) but I feel it’s going from strength to strength.
Still five more recordings in this series.
Do come along to one or more if you can. A few little bits tonight will hit the cutting room floor, so it’s your only way to get the full, horrendous picture of what’s going on.
Earlier I had been unloading the dishwasher and as I put the glasses in the cupboard a champagne flute fell out, like I was in some glass based version of Tipping Point. I tried to catch it, but reached to it just as it shattered on the work surface and I cut my finger mildly deeply. So that it bled a bit and properly hurt. I had to spend time mopping up my blood and finding every shard of glass so my daughter didn’t somehow ingest any of it. I had never had that glass pegged as something that would one day cause me such pain and inconvenience. It’s sat in the cupboard, occasionally being drunk from and then being replaced for a good few years, but all the time was planning this attack. I didn’t know it would cause me pain. I often wonder about the benign objects around us that one day might cause us harm or death. Alas one in hindsight can we find out which objects are really our friends and which are assassin sleeper agents.
