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Tuesday 25th September 2007

I'm a Mac!
Which is ironic, because if we'd got that advert I would have undoubtedly have been the PC.
I did it. I have a new lover to run my fingers over. My old flame is sitting on the table literally glaring at me, sloping backwards on its broken arm, the lines on its screen revealing its age. And whilst my new friend is younger and glossier and much more beautiful, I can't help but feel a tinge of regret and loss.
But it's early days and I am still getting used to my new pixelated whore. Although I know how to turn her on, that is almost it at the moment. Compared to my old tiny computer the keyboard seems large and unwieldy, especially next to my tiny boy's hands (but you know what they say, "Small hands, small..." Forget what they say! They are idiots) and I am inevitably reminded of Tom Hanks on that giant piano in "Big".
But it's mainly good and slowly I am managing to make most things work, missing the few things that you can do on a PC and not on a Mac, but appreciating the possibilities of this new operating system (and thanks to all those of you who told me that Mac are bringing out an updated version of their software next month, just in time for me to get home and read about it on the guestbook after I had made my purchase).
So clearly I spent most of the day trying to work stuff out - how to get Blackberry software on to this thing and mainly how the hard drive I bought is meant to work. I think I have got close, but it's much more complicated getting stuff off my PC. I should be able to get it worked out tomorrow, but in any case I have a meeting at the Genius Bar (bad name, great idea) on Thursday for a man to sort things out for me. It's a brave new world. I feel sorry for my old laptop, but have decided that I will still take her out with me when I am working away from home, at least for a while. She may think this is for old time's sake, but it's really because it will lessen the chances of this beautiful new partner being stolen.
It was an extremely bizarre gig tonight. I felt a bit out of it after a two day break and having been looking at computer screens all day. Also I was being filmed for the BBC Culture Show for this show in which I am going to advise Example on how to be a comedian, so that added pressure. I wanted it to go well for them and for him, not wanting him to think he had got a crappy mentor.
Things started when the techie played the wrong track on the intro tape, so it said "Please welcome back Richard Herring" rather than playing the actual intro and as I came on and tried to explain what had happened. As I was doing this some latecomers were arriving to sit in the front row and one of them, a spivvy looking man of 50 in a suit and glasses, with a gold tooth, started saying that I wasn't to worry and should wait for them to sit down. He was clearly a bit over-excited and crazy and was definitely going to be trouble and my heart sank. I tried to fill the time as he and his party settled down by making some cheap cracks about how the BBC and Culture were mutually exclusive and how maybe once there was culture on those channels, but now there was so little that they could actually name one show, "The Culture Show". It didn't really work, but I couldn't start the show until everyone had calmed down.
But once I got into it, it became clear that this spiv had come with the express purpose of heckling every single thing I said, and when he wasn't heckling directly he was talking very loudly to the woman next to him (who turned out to be his mother). I put him down a few times lightly, increasing force as it became clear that this was going to carry on and bemoaned the fact that he had chosen to come on the day I was being filmed.
He was the worst kind of heckler, one whose heckles were non-sequiturs, with no wit or charm, just shouting out to be the centre of attention. And I knew he was always poised to shout something out, which meant I couldn't leave any pauses so it was affecting my delivery. For example at the end of the bit about football and there being no "I" in team, he shouted out "You were goal-hanging", which made no sense, was not funny and just upset an already exasperated crowd.
I carried on with my next bit, but could see people were already trying to move away from the bloke who was talking to his mum and so once I got the opportunity to stop (a good ten minutes into the show, after I had done enough good put-downs to warrant his silence) I realised I was actually going to have to deal with this directly. I stopped what I was doing and told him that he wasn't at home watching telly and that he was spoiling the show for people around him and that if he didn't shut up I was going to have to ask him to leave. He said he would be quiet, but immediately started talking again and it was clear he wasn't in control of his own brain. Other people in the audience were shouting angrily at him to shut up. I told him that if he went and sat at the back that he could talk, but as he was right at the front it was an issue and I offered him his money back if he would leave.
Finally he got up and went, I thought, to sit at the back, though apparently he went into the lobby. "It's my 50th birthday!" he moaned as he went, as if this gave him the right to take over the whole show. "Fuck off!" shouted an angry voice from the back of the stalls, which pretty much conveyed the mood. "Well this show is about being 40," I told him, "You've come to the wrong gig."
Remarkably his friends and family elected not to follow him or sit with him and they stayed for the rest of the show, seemingly enjoying it, occasionally becoming involved (they were all a little eccentric) but it was a big relief to have got rid of the interloper. At the time I was a bit disappointed that this was all being filmed, after every other show has gone so smoothly, but it's probably a pretty good thing to have happened for the show, demonstrating how disruptive hecklers can be and taking Example through all the things you can try to deal with the. Ultimately though, sometimes there is nothing you can do apart from expulsion.
The show actually picked up considerably and I did probably the best ever performances of the T-shirt and the blow job routine. I had worried I might have alienated the crowd, but they stayed with me.
But God knows what they will show on TV. Ah well. At least I am a Mac.

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