Three days off meant that I had a lot of work today and I got straight into it, recording the latest Twelve Shows podcast in my dressing gown before my wife had even got up (in a different room though - I am not a monster). Listen to it here.
I then wasted an hour trying to film a promo for the kickstarter campaign, taking the piss out of a strange man on Twitter who seemed angry that I was asking people to pay for the series in advance, rather than charging them to buy it once it was ready (today he said that I was asking people to pay too much for what they were getting, though I did explain that people were welcome to pay as little as a pound for the 20 episodes or indeed nothing, but I haven’t heard back from him yet). In the end I realised that the promo just made me look as stupid as him, so it’s not going up. But it was fun trying to get it right.
And then an afternoon of attempting to relearn the more-tricky-than-I-imagined “What is Love, Anyway?†and “We’re All Going To Die!†Die is, perhaps mot surprisingly, a bit more in my head as it’s only 15 months since I last did it, though Love is complicated (I mean the show, but you know, works on both levels) and I had to do some intense cramming. I recorded this one for DVD halfway through the tour and I think I got it a lot sharper by the end of the run, but as with many of these shows, revisiting has made me realise how they could nearly all have done with a more judicious editing hand. I liked to take ideas beyond their natural length and sometimes that works, but in Love I discuss the subject a bit too seriously in places (or at least with not enough jokes) which might be OK, but it feels like I am ad-libbing a little. On Friday I will have to cut some bits anyway to get into the time slot, but this is a show where I feel a loss of 10 or 15 minutes will make it a lot better. It’s still my favourite of my own shows and it’s got a great ending and some strong material, though today I was more impressed with the stuff in We’re All Going To Die! They are both packed with ideas, but if I had more time I’d love to go back and reorganise and rewrite and improve them. For the moment there’s just enough time to relearn and make minor amends. Sales are picking up for both and I think there should be at least 200 at both shows this weekend. You will be able to buy tickets on the door. Hopefully I can enjoy these shows a bit more as I should know them better than the earlier ones. I am looking forward to giving them another run out anyway.
And it will be the first time I do the Love stuff about my grandma while she isn’t still with us. The Debussy piano piece makes me tear up a bit without even talking about her over it. So there’s a good chance of more blubbing.
But in between the learning and the crying I had some fun with my daughter. I am trying to engineer it so that her first word is “daddy†and she is well on the way because she is constantly saying ‘da da da daâ€, but so far not really in reference to me. I think she has to know what she is saying means before it counts as a word. But I think she might not end up speaking human language at all. She likes to make unusual shrieks and today we realised what she is doing. Our deaf cat Smithers has a miaow that is more like a plaintive howl. He meowed in the kitchen today and Phoebe did a perfect imitation of the noise. She does really like the cats and maybe she thinks she’s a cat as well. Her mum once did a routine about how she decided to be a cat -when she was a little older than our baby- and was only talked out of carrying it on when her dad said that she’s have to eat cat food. But I don’t think that would put Phoebe off. She eats anything she’s given at the moment, sometimes pulling a face of disgust or confusion, but that won’t stop her eating another spoonful of that food and then pulling exactly the same face again- idiot.
I am annoyed that my cat has had more luck at indoctrinating Phoebe than I have. But hopefully this is a sign that she can make a good living as a mimic. She certainly likes to laugh and is great at pulling faces (this is my daughter, not the cat), so my plan to train her up to be the best comedian in the world to avenge the way the establishment has partially ignored me (me and Andrew Lawrence can never get any work due to political correctness, apart from all the Radio 4 series and panel shows and tours that we do).
Phoebe wouldn’t go to sleep tonight and I could see from her face how glad she was that she’d managed to get an extra hour with the adults. She knew what she’d achieved. As tired as she actually was, this was a little victory (and how many more will there be to come). She’s going to be a lot of trouble. But I am glad about that. I’d hate it if my kids are cheeky little flickers.
