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Sometimes on tour the reaction to more or less the exact same material in two consecutive nights is so different that you wonder if you are the victim of a complicated prank. How can something that felt a bit flat yesterday be kicking and fizzing 24 hours later? Today it was partly because there were three times more people in, but although last night was by no means a disaster (and got plenty of good audience feedback today), it just makes a huge difference to the performance if the crowd give you something to react to (and against). But if a tiny part of my brain was worrying yesterday that I might not actually be funny, those doubts were dispelled tonight and I had to conclude that I am the funniest man that ever lived. Let’s see how I feel tomorrow.
I am always disappointed by how much the way a gig goes affects my mood and my self-worth, but I suppose it’s inevitable. It’s great to be doing so many gigs with three or four hundred people in the audience, but I am quite lucky to be in the position where every now and again I have to adapt to something smaller or different. Most comics either play exclusively small or big venues, but I get to experience different ones (though admittedly rarely the massive ones - at least not with massive crowds). I doubt there will be a time when I leave the little ones behind, though it’s interesting that some mild success made the slight bump to earth yesterday a bit more unsettling. I shouldn’t have let it get to me.
We were driving to Exeter and back tonight as whoever organised this tour (no one knows who it is, the dates arrive from behind a curtain) had scheduled us in Colchester tomorrow. After getting up at six to look after Phoebe I had gone back to bed at about nine, but didn’t get any sleep, so once again I am feeling blasted and discombobulated. Eight hours on the road, even though I was being driven by Giles, did not help matters. But somehow the energy was there for the performance. I am getting too old for this shit. Although I am not stopping. The mysterious person behind the curtain is already working on the next tour and I got some provisional dates through today. After the success of the 12 shows last summer I have decided to do a best of show for my next tour, called “Richard Herring: The Bestâ€. My favourite 90 minutes from the 18-20 hours I’ve done this century, which hopefully should be a pretty strong show. So if you’ve got any friends who aren’t sure they want to see me, this might be the one to bring them too. All the hits, none of the shit(s).
And when I finish that tour I will be about to hit my half century, so I assume my next show after that one will be “Oh Frig, I’m 50â€. If I survive that long. At the moment I feel so sapped of energy that I think I might just lay down and die. But it’s been fun while it lasted. And on stage (with the possible exception of the studio at Fairfields Hall) I am lifted enough to forget my fatigue.
Again I found myself drifting off to sleep at the end of both today’s journeys, but Giles stayed pumped up and awake, tackling the driving aggressively, but skilfully, getting me home by just after 1 am (luckily the gig tonight had an early start). He shouted at somebody who had stopped his car in the middle of the road just before we got home. But we didn’t crash into him and die. So that’s something.
Another frame of Me 1 vs Me2 snooker has appeared. I have no idea where it came from. Hope you enjoy it.
