Warming Up

I realised today that I have no live performances left in 2018 (though last minute bookings are always possible) and not a single stand-up gig in my diary. We are though working towards doing loads of RHLSTPs all over the country next year. Keep your eye on my gig guide. The Birmingham gig is now officially my biggest ever selling performance (outside of occasions when I've been on a mixed bill at a charity do or a festival). Thanks for this amazing support Brum. And please support the show if we’re coming near to you. We’re taking a punt on some big venues along the way.

My wife and I did a cookery course in Harpenden today, to prepare ourselves for the first time we’ve ever hosted Christmas dinner. I was tired and it was overwhelming, but I think we got some good tips. Mainly though we got to eat the Christmas dinner that the very impressive host of the session cooked. 

I am glad we didn’t end up living in Harpenden (we did of course spend six months there back in 2012 when we were having work done on our London house) - it seems to be full of posh selfish pricks. We went round the supermarket (and it was a Waitrose admittedly) but I’ve never seen a bigger collection of sour-faced and inconsiderate idiots: failing to make way for anyone else, failing to offer or accept apologies when we were trying to get past them, just looking miserable with their privileged existence. 

I am certainly privileged and though I occasionally feel shame about it, it doesn’t make me perpetually miserable. I enjoy the products of my good fortune and my hard work, but I wonder if there’s just a point in human existence where you become so self-centred and self-pitying that you’re not able to enjoy anything any more. If money made you happy, then Harpenden should be the jolliest place on earth, but an invisible mist of misery hangs over it. At least the rudeness and inconsideration in London comes from everyone being knackered out from working hard enough to be able to afford to live there. What happened in these Harpenden people’s lives to make them so grumpy, even though they have it all. Materially speaking at least.

I fear that one day I will wake up and be one of them though. Because I do not know what makes it happen.

Dusk falls early in November and my 6.30pm walk with the dog was lit only by the moon and my puny torch. Night time stone clearing is exciting and slightly frightening and I will podcast about it soon. It’s not to be attempted by newbie stone-clearers as there are many dangers. Mainly picking up dog shit by accident, but also watch out for Night Hawk stone clearers who will wait for you to collect good stones and then steal them off you and claim them for themselves. 

But the advantages are many too, not least that you are the first to see the first crop of stones, that grow in the gloom, but also there is rarely anyone around and you can push out into the stocean with the added confidence of no one being able to see you. And there  are treasures to be found there.

But the best thing about tonight’s stone clear was when I threw a piece of flint from a distance on to my main cairn and a flash of light lit up the night and sparks flew as two stones smashed together. I have seen the occasional flash of stone lightning in the day time, but this was my first night time display and it was magical. I wished I had been recording tonight because the joy at the first sighting can never be counterfeited. Creating magic lightning from stone, making fireworks without gunpowder. The wonder connects us to the earliest humans and the religious realisation that fire can come from rock. Only in the illumination of the stars and moon can we understand how terrifying the night would have been for them.

On video here

On audio here 

Both formats also available on iTunes.