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The long, long drive to New Milton for another gig at the Forest Arts Centre. It always feels like it’s close, because it’s in the south, but we could have driven to Yorkshire in the time it took us to get here.
Back in 2001 I did a gig here the day before going on holiday to Barbados with my then girlfriend and she rang me to say she wasn’t sure that she was going to come and we had a long, loud argument right before the show. It turned out that she was at her ex-boyfriend’s house at the time and he’d just proposed to her. But I didn’t find that out for a while. We still went on holiday. And it was a pretty disastrous week. Not least because I got knocked over by a wave and banged my head and consequently (for some reason) one of my testicles swelled up to three times its (already impressive) size.
So that’s what I think about every time I come here. An awful relationship and a damaged gonad.
Why do I keep coming back? It’s like I want to be reminded.
For the first time on the tour I had no impending writing work to get done. It was strange. All that time to fill and nothing pressing to do. To be fair though, that's how it should be on tour. I should only be doing one job at a time. But let's face it, that's unlikely to happen.
I had never noticed before but there is a Motorcycle Museum in New Milton. If only I had got there a bit earlier I could have gone along and talked to the staff about how much I love motorcycles and asked them if they had a Kawasaki 792 on display. But I had about 140 South Hampshire people to entertain (and so far, I’ve managed to fulfil my ambition to sell more than 100 tickets to every gig- apart from Sutton Coldfield which only seats about 80). This is quite a tough room to play though. And the lights shone in my eyes so it was hard to see the audience. And I hadn’t done vocal warm up and I’d eaten a bit of carrot before the show and maybe a bit was caught in my throat or maybe I am still suffering a bit from the bug or maybe I was suffering from the two thirds of a bottle of wine that I drank last night (once that would have been equivalent to taking a night off drinking, but now, that much booze means a sleepless night and a hangover). I had to struggle through a few jokes with my voice going high as if I was about to cry. This 30 seconds or so, that felt like 5 minutes to me, made me worry that I was going to have to push through the rest of show with tears in my eyes, but luckily it passed. The gig went well, though it's always a tough room to get much of an atmosphere going. An attempted heckle (which felt like random sentences at the time, but I later realised was actually supposed to be a joke) threw me a little curve ball. I dealt with it OK, but I think it made the small audience feel a bit anxious for a while. Would the man attempt another juxtaposition? Luckily he left it at that.
Everything ticked along fine. I had no long phone argument with someone I was about to split up with (but not before spending a week on holiday with them). Maybe I should have rung my old girlfriend to see how she was getting on (though she’s getting on very well - she’s a top writer in Hollywood now, whereas I was still backstage at the Forest Arts Centre in New Milton and thinking about going to a motorcycle museum so I could pretend to like motorcycles).
Instead I had a phone conversation with my bank about buildings insurance. The man on the other end of the line was friendly and made some funny comments about the music I’d have to listen to when I was put on hold. At the end of the call he told me he was a fan of my stuff. Because he’d been talking to a comedian he’d done his best to be funny. Which is quite funny in itself. I should have asked him to give me free buildings insurance if he liked my stuff so much. But I was feeling a bit weird about this work and life intersection.
And at that gig in 2001 I was also interviewed afterwards by some Australian journalists as I was about to head off to Melbourne. Even though I had a very early start (and was unsure whether I was about to go on holiday on my own - which to be honest would have been preferable) I talked to them for quite a while and then gave them a lift back to London, going out of my way to drop them at home. And all I remember from their write up was them jokingly criticising my driving. What a little door mat I was. And proud of it. Nothing wrong with being nice. Even if life likes to punch you in the face (and inexplicably damage your testicles) as soon as you try it.
The tour continues (20 down, 47 to go). There are plenty of tickets left for Worthing on Thursday, but Fareham and Colchester on Friday and Saturday are now sold out. Still a few tickets for Canterbury on Sunday. Quite a few gigs selling out (Newcastle is now full up) so do book ahead if you want to come along.
All tour dates here.
The second of the bonus RHMOL RHLSTPs is now up and features Richard Wiseman talking about the paranormal
This month's monthly badge monthly draw winner is Thomas Clarke from Southport (I bet he's been to the Lawnmover Museum) who gets a big box of signed scripts, hand made T shirt, probably a couple of sex toys that I got given after the Sex Appeal gig in January and other worthless and valuable bits of tat. If you want to get a chance to win next month (and every month you're still donating) plus get access to a secret channel of extra backstage interviews (and more) plus a badge, plus provide us with funds to make even more podcasts
then give a pound or more a month here.
