5607/18627
I had prayed to Jesus last night that if I wasn't sick I would believe in him. But then I'd also sent out a message to all the other gods that if they could prevent me being ill then I would believe in them. I did not throw up in the night. I had a chance to prove which religion was right and I blew it.
And I should have asked Jesus to make me actually well, rather than just not vomit. And I could have asked for X-Ray vision, immortality and the ability to fly too (you only get 3 wishes from any one Jesus and you're not allowed to wish for more wishes- he's not stupid). BecauseI hadn't been sick, but I was still unwell. I hadn't slept well because of the nausea and was light-headed and had no appetite (though am always secretly happy about that - vomiting bugs have given many of my diets the kickstart that they need). I had a day off pegged with my kids and a night out with my wife planned to celebrate our anniversary, but my body, having spotted the one gap in my schedule, had realised this was the 24 hours I could go into shutdown. To the extent that I was fine doing the podcasts last night and then immediately started to feel bad once I was home.
I was too ill to do anything but stay in bed, so on the plus side got a fair amount of sleep, but once again my heart goes out to any single parents who have to just carry on regardless when this sort of thing happens. How do you do it?
My daughter who had passed on this bug to me seemed to be over her tiredness and nausea, so I presumed that this illness was going to fit exactly into my day off and that I would be fine, if a little sensitive, to travel to Dublin in the morning.
But I had no choice but to accept this fate. And punished myself by watching “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larryâ€on Netflix. Netflix knows how much I enjoy the work of Adam Sandler and lets me know whenever a new film comes on the service. I've seen this one before, but had forgotten just how cake-and-eat-it pro-gay and homophobic this one was. Luckily I fell asleep halfway through.
Feeling a bit better I had some food and then watched the Dave Allen drama, which seemed a bit light and jumped around without much direction. It turned out to be a story about the relationship Allen had with his brother, but tried to fit too much in and didn't quite work. Also it concentrated on recreating some of Allen's sketches, which were probably the weaker elements of his shows anyway (compared to his brilliant stand up) and which might have been better and more cheaply served if they'd just shown the originals anyway. Or just done some of the work of setting up what the drama was about.
Also the writers chose to ignore the important event of Dave Allen being in the audience for a student play that I had a small but scene stealing part in in 1989. Afterwards I passed him on a staircase as he went up to the dressing rooms and he came down. “Here come the heavies,†he said. Both I and the actor I was with were on the large side, but I think it was also an acknowledgement that we'd done well. As with the rest of my life I was too shy to try to talk to him or tell him I wanted to be a comedian or ask his advice. Or just tell him how much I had loved his shows (though less so the sketches).
But it was good to have almost met him.
What an important and groundbreaking comedian he was.
