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I have no idea why but the wonderful and very funny Jameela Jamil invited me on to
her podcast today.
She usually has a very A list guest. I was on with Simon Pegg to give you some kind of context to that. When she introduced him with a long list of film credits including Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Mission Impossible, Star Wars and more (she didn't mention Run, Fatboy, Run), I assumed she was then going to say "and also we've got Richard Herring." She did give me some credits, but one of them was my Substack, which I don't think quite equates to working with Tom Cruise, but maybe I am wrong. I had to question whether I had won a competition or unbeknownst to me, was terminally ill.
Once upon a time I was a slightly bigger star than Simon. He once came to a Lee and Herring gig and waited around after for an autograph "for his sister". The next time we saw him he was supporting Steve Coogan (admittedly on a much more successful tour than we were doing so the scales had probably tipped) and then came Six Pairs of Pants and he shot off into the ether!
What goes up must come down (doesn't seem to be though). And what stays down on the ground will probably stay on the ground. Or be buried under the ground.
I was very glad to be asked. Even though this star-laden star-fronted podcasts are basically hoovering up all the podcast sponsors - you may have noticed a definite levelling off of promotions on RHLSTP. Still I got to spend an hour in a tiny basement in Soho talking to proper TV and film stars. I didn't even think to ask if they'd pay me or give me some money for my train ticket. I think they're more likely to bill me for the opportunity!
We were asked to come up with mortifying moments of humiliation from our lives and given that is my meat and potatoes for most of my comedy I was surprised how few examples sprang to mind. Once we got talking though the chat prompted all kinds of memories of shitting myself at school (more than once) and getting stuck in mud in my car and being naked on stage.
What's remarkable, given that she's already done quite a few episodes, is how many stories Jameela had. Whatever Simon and I talked about, reminded her of something that immediately dumped on (sometimes literally our stories. And these were things just occurring to her, that she hadn't told before. I hope she keeps them all in, but boy it's definitely worth listening to for these stories.
I'm a big fan anyway of this remarkably talented and occasionally insane woman and love that she says what she thinks. And admits to the embarrassing things she's done. It's very cathartic to be that honest. And the people who seem to have got it all together are all just lying. We're all idiots. Some of us are smart enough to turn our own idiocy into a career.
And some of us are in Mission Impossible or the Good Place.
I am not saying which of us is which.
I walked back to Kings Cross from Soho, passing though Soho Square where grown men were playing table tennis against each other and lotus eaters were lounging the day away.
I always like to have a look at the statue of Charles II by Caius Gabriel Cibber. He always makes me think of Colley Cibber who was parodied quite a lot by Henry Fielding (who I studied for A level and who I am very much on the side of) and I love having an Eighteenth Century enemy. Colley, perhaps unsurprisingly was Caius' son. Better to be making statues than writing sprawling autobiographies and annoying funnier novelists/playwrights. Though I have to say the Charles II statue is fucking shit, mainly I think due to the work of the London weather over the last 350 years, though I liked that someone had put a sunflower in his hand this time.
Also she never pays up.
