Trying to recaputure the magic of the Amalfi Coast breakfast I bought some peaches this week. But as nice as they are it's just not as magical eating them in cloudy Shepherd's Bush as it was overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The experience fades into black and white when you're not actually on holiday. And all I am left with sticky fingers, and not in a good way. You can't go back.
Well actually you can go back. But only actually going back on holiday does any of the stuff you have there taste as succulent. We all know it, yet we still try to recapture it. We are dolts.
Still my monochrome peach was healthy at least. If it felt like it had been plucked from a tree for me that very morning then I might have enjoyed it more.
One of the great things about doing the tour version of the show is that I am no longer constrained by the Edinburgh hour. I always have to go at top speed at the Fringe to cram all my ideas into the available slot. And whilst I still talk fast afterwards there's a little more breathing room and I can take a punt and go off at tangents. Some of the staff from Scope came to see the show tonight, one of whom was deaf and who had to lip read to know what was going on. I was very impressed (both with him and myself) to discover that he'd been able to follow the whole thing. He did acknowledge that my pace was rapid, but I was enunciating enough (or moving my lips around enough) for that not to be an issue. I suspect most of the credit must go to him for being an adept speed reader, but was delighted that my performance had assisted with that (he said that not all comedians were as easy to read - or was he just saying that I was predictable?).
We all went for a drink afterwards and I tried to imagine reading the lips of everyone who was talking. It seemed impossible that anyone would be capable of this super power. I wish I could do it too as I find it very hard to hear people these days, especially in packed bars where the peripheral noise drowns everything out. With most conversations I am just pretending to know what's going on and nodding and laughing which might prove embarrassing if it turns out the people I am with are spouting racist views or telling me that their dad has just died.
Also I love eavesdropping. How cool must it be to be able to tune into the conversations of people on the other side of the room? If only I had the patience to learn how to do this then my life would be improved a 1000%. But it's probably for the best that I don't. The blog would just be full of me saying "and then he said this and then she said this" and I am pretty certain that I would be rubbish at lip-reading even if I tried and I would misquote people anyway.
What I might do instead is just pretend that I can lipread and then totally make up conversations that I think I've witnessed. It saves the hard work of studying and my pretend conversations will be much better than what most people can come up with anyway.
I am now slightly fearful that the lip reader in my audience is doing exactly the same thing and just made up his own comedy show. Which might explain why he enjoyed it all so much.