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Covid hasn’t been that good has it? But every cloud of virus has a silver lining and on the plus side it has meant that when I have to do PR for something I can do it all from my computer at home, rather than travel into London and waste a whole day for one interview and one cancelled interview. And if that’s not balanced up against a million global deaths, then the problem is with your sense of perspective.
After I’d walked my happy son to nursery, I got him and did four or five interviews in the morning, one about the book, one about my podcasts and a couple of maybe three around Taskmaster. And after saying goodbye to Gary Bushell after telling him about my favourite TV shows (not something I would have anticipated 30 years ago) I went downstairs and made some toasties for me and my wife and then got on with my day.
I don’t think I want to leave the house again. And maybe after recording my audiobook on Thursday (which I could still technically do from home) I never shall. For about six months anyway.
The chat about the book was the most interesting as it was for a radio show/podcast about young men and the challenges they face to understand what being a man means these days. I felt like I had no answers, apart from November 19th, but it was interesting to discuss. I can see a future where men embrace the opportunity to redefine masculinity and a future where they double down on the emotionally stunted, macho, fighting and blaming everyone but themselves for their problems. It’s a bit like the film Sliding Doors. Except I am pretty sure about which Universe I am going to have to live through.
I dropped a bottle of beer at lunchtime as I was trying to move it in the fridge. It hit the floor and the cap slightly dislodged and warm lager sprayed everywhere. I got the bottle to the sink and uncapped it and then had to decide if I was going to pour it away or start drinking at 12.20pm. I went for the latter option. Luckily I wasn’t so drunk that I couldn’t prepare for my Ally and Herring show (which moved to Tuesdays because I am busy on Thursday), but it maybe encouraged me to enjoy a couple of glasses of wine with my dinner, which meant I ventriloquised tipsy. But to be fair, insanity and drunkenness are hard to tell apart. It made little difference.
I had found myself this afternoon raiding my daughter’s bedroom to find if she had any stick on googly eyes and then working out how to superglue them to a carrot that I had carved to look slightly like a penis. Usually I question what I am doing mid-show, but this was the first time I had to have a long look at myself in the cold light of day. It was worth it though. Cocky Carrot is an instant star. He makes the dead wasp look pathetic. I love the organic way the show is developing and the realisation at the end of tonight’s show that the carrot should act as a 21st Century Wicked Willy. That is something that absolutely should not exist in the 21st Century. But this whole show is about taking the work of others and veneering it in irony and non-irony and repurposing it for a cynical and dying world. So it’s OK to have a googly eyed phallic carrot pop up from my lap when things get sexy. He came up with a same phrase too, but fucked if I remember what it was.
