I had a lot of fun on the podcast today with the hardcore legend Mick Foley. I have to admit that I didn't know anything about him before he was booked for the show - my interest in wrestling ended when World of Sport stopped showing Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks lumbering towards each other in the 1970s. But in a way I think the fact that I wasn't a fan and that I didn't know too much about the multi-billion pound industry of the WWF and WWE and all the other wrestling associations (though I enjoy an acronym) made for a better interview. Luckily Mick turned out to be a charming and funny man, as capable of laughing at himself as I suspected he was of crushing me with a single blow. It was cool to find out a bit about his life and his job and to try to find the parallels with my own - though I lost him on Me1 vs Me2 snooker. But as America doesn't have snooker I think it might be the perfect place for me to try and break this new sport. Imagine how brilliant the podcasts would be if you didn't even know what snooker is - it's hard enough to follow if you do. Self playing, self commentating, audio snooker (or SPSCAS as it will be called - bit of a dangerous acronym) could be the new youth phenomenon.
After the show I headed to Pret a Manger for a late lunch. They were celebrating their 10th birthday in the store - I think I remember it opening in fact, I would have been doing Cock the first time- and at one point one of the staff gave a group of students at the next table some goodie bags in return for them singing Happy Birthday to the shop. This wasn't a random occurrence as it turned out the girls were doing a show (According to their flyer they are called the Oxford Belles) and they sang a beautiful harmonised version of the traditional birthday greeting to the handful of afternoon patrons of the shop. I liked it. This is what the Fringe is like. You can't even eat a sandwich without some students showing off. They were good though. I enjoy seeing the students on the Royal Mile or walking around with their faces painted - I know they annoy lots of locals, but they make me smile. Because I was once one of them I suppose. And whilst a part of me would still like to be one of them, another part of me is delighted that I am not them. Which perhaps means I am getting comfortable with being a middle-aged man at last. Is it possible to simultaneously wish that you were 20 and be utterly thrilled that you are not? I think it is. Because I am.
I liked spectating on this tiny Fringe moment, as a man on a different continent with no way of getting back. The past is a foreign country.
Black Wednesday was not as bad as I had feared and I was about half full for tonight's show. I suddenly felt awake and full of energy, though was beset by technical errors, mainly of my own making, dropping my clicker, but also having my slides go slightly askew. I pushed onwards, but it was a shame as I think I lost the crowd for a bit as I struggled and failed to reset the computer. The central screen didn't work, which is not a disaster, but what's the betting that the room was full of reviewers!?
And yet weirdly I find myself caring less about reviews than ever before. Usually I am hunting them out and trying to find out who is coming and when, but this year I don't seem to care. I've had two reviews (that I've seen) one good and one OK and on any other year I think I'd be stressing that there hadn't been more. Maybe I've grown up in this regard too or maybe reviews just don't matter so much anymore. There are so many outlets for reviews now and yet conversely the national papers coverage has got less and less. I think word of mouth and social networking is probably much more important. With every poster sporting several 4 or 5 star reviews (which if you look closely usually come from sources that you've never heard of) I don't think any punter is fooled into being impressed any more. Once everyone becomes a reviewer the only way to find out what show to see is to ask other people. Perhaps this has always been the way, but it's easier for the information to spread these days. The only way to account for the sudden spurt of ticket sales for today is that the 800 people who saw the show on Monday and Tuesday have told their friends. And as long as that happens it doesn't matter what the papers say or if they choose not to report on my show at all.
I felt a lot more positive about everything this evening though and think that may be down to not feeling so run down. It's a marathon not a sprint and it's hard to keep on the level here.
Spread the word about my shows if you liked them - or indeed if you didn't. Cos if you don't like it the people you are like probably won't either and I'd rather have an audience who will enjoy what I'm doing.
There can't be many shows left now - what do you mean there's still 36 to go? Not if I die of exhaustion there isn't! Ha ha. The joke's on you.
Oh yeah and I might be able to go out and watch some stuff now as I've finally finished the box set of Colditz. It was utterly gripping and almost universally excellent. Bernard Hepton is astonishingly affecting as the Kommandant of the camp, fair-minded and noble, yet slightly weak and conflicted. Wonderful series and highly recommended.
