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Friday 3rd April 2009
Friday 3rd April 2009
Friday 3rd April 2009

Friday 3rd April 2009

The staff of the Assembly Rooms in Derby seemed very well organised and efficient. As I did my tech a lady asked me when I wanted my rider delivered to my dressing room. I was relieved I was going to be getting something (most places haven't provided me with much if anything - though I should point out in fairness to Cheltenham Town Hall, that aside from the failure to help me move the speakers, I was very well looked after) as I had had my dinner and Herring's Third Law dictated that there should thus be nothing for me here.
I got to the dressing room and what seemed like a massive team of people (though it was probably no more than three or maybe four) proceeded to come in at intervals of a couple of minutes each bringing some new item with them. There was a massive plate of sandwiches cut into triangles - enough to feed at least four people - two bowls of posh parsnip crisps, a big bowl of fruit and six bottles of beer and six bottles of water. Not content with giving me a kettle, one of the young men also lugged in a large urn, which he then plugged into the wall and which quietly gurgled as it boiled up for the next twenty minutes. I don't usually drink tea or coffee before a gig, but he had gone to such an effort that I felt embarrassed not to and made myself a fruits of the forest herbal tea.
The effort seemed almost sarcastic and I wondered if they did this for everyone or if they had been reading my blog and were trying to make a statement about how brilliant they were compared to the other theatres. Perhaps there is big competition on the theatre circuit to get my approval.
Either that or they'd just heard I was an alcoholic, gluttonous, affectatious parnsip crisp eating idiot and they thought they'd better keep me fuelled up for the show.
I thought that if there was an awards ceremony at the end of the tour, then Derby would surely win for diligence and efficiency at least.
In fact I might have an awards ceremony at the end of the tour, where I reward the best and worst of the venues and audiences. It might be my only chance to win an award myself - "Best performer on the Richard Herring "The Headmaster's Son" tour goes to.... oh what a surprise, it's Karen Bayley, who was unexpectedly introduced at the start of the Sutton Coldfield gig, by Keith the tech guy who thought she was doing her usual compering duties, but who wasn't in fact required, so just told people that she wasn't meant to be there and asked Keith to play the intro CD. And I have to say that although Herring is trying to look gracious at this surprise defeat you can see the disappointment in his eyes."
The opening of the show was remarkable in that two people walked out of the auditorium in the first five minutes. I have had walk outs before, not so many on this tour as it happens, but a few, but no one has gone so quickly. I hadn't even got to the end of the opening monologue and my guess is that they had either found themselves in the wrong venue or were Christians and had taken exception to my Ascension Day based laughs and my claim that we had been "forced to celebrate something that never happened, to someone who didn't exist." There's a chance they were both at the wrong venue and offended, as next door there was a bit happy clappy Christian event going on.
Still I couldn't quite believe that I had had walk outs quite so rapidly, without even having got to the Elizabeth Fritzl, Jade Goody or paedophile material, but infuriatingly I couldn't comment on it as I was in the middle of my mock heroic opening and it would have taken away all the drama and tension.
But I knew I'd be able to mention it the minute that I dropped out of the story and became more informal. Rather delightfully just as I was about to mention it, the man from the couple who had left was coming back into the theatre. Perhaps I had misjudged them. Maybe they had just both needed the toilet, or his companion wasn't feeling well. But no, it just turned out that in his indignant haste to leave the man had left his coat on his chair. I tried to talk to him, but his head was down and he wasn't having any of it. He was probably smarting a little bit, having made this big furious gesture, storming out to possibly make the point that Jesus was King and should not be mocked in any way (which if he was so powerful surely wouldn't matter too much) and had then got outside and realised "Bugger, I've left my coat," and been forced to skulk back in again, trying to maintain the air of indignance that had taken him out.
I would later say that I believed that was what Jesus had always said, "If someone offends you, then leave in a bit of a huff." It's one of the cornerstones that Christianity is built on. Then I wondered if he'd just mixed up his Biblical utterances - "If someone offends you, give them your coat as well." He'd realised his error just in time.
It was a strange mixture of people in the audience. Two elderly ladies in their seventies were on the front row, looking like they were having such a bad time that I almost wanted to stop the show and tell them it was actually OK for them to leave - they'd clearly made a mistake of some kind. I made a bet with myself that they wouldn't be there after the interval, but the odds I gave myself were not great so I didn't make much money when the prediction came true.
Four people in the row behind also left and towards the end of the first half, during the universally popular diary section another couple had gone. People sometimes leave in the interval because they don't like the paedophile material (even though I explain that they will think I am the nicest man in the world if they stay to the end), but to have four people go before I'd even got to that was something of a record.
Luckily there were plenty of other people in and most of them stayed and seemed to really enjoy it. In fact I got a partial standing ovation at the close - no doubt precipitated by people who had read my blog about one man standing for me in Cardiff, but they were joined by maybe ten or more other people who also got to their feet.
It had been a good show, in spite of the World Record for a comedy show walk out.
The staff at the Assembly Rooms, perhaps complacent that the efficiency award was already on their mantlepiece after their impressive pre-show display, totally dropped the ball at the end and forgot to get out the SCOPE buckets until at least 50% of the audience had left the building. I still got some money from the remainder, but it was frustrating to lose out on that revenue. If anyone from the Derby audience who didn't managed to donate still wishes to, then please visit my justgiving page.
But I couldn't stay mad at them about it. And I could see in their eyes that they regretted blowing their chances at winning a gong that they had no idea even existed.
I had a beer afterwards with old school chums Brian Bancroft and Chris Scard. Chris had played "Paddy" the Irishman in Dazzle, the racist Star Trek spoof musical I'd starred in at school. I had been in email contact with James Trower this week who blacked up to play medical officer "Bones" who sang "Dem Bones, Dem Bones." It really was probably the most offensive thing I have ever been involved in, with every racial stereotype you can imagine. I suggested that we should be forced to restage this show with the same cast, now all in their forties, to demonstrate the shame of our generation and also because it would take on a super-ironic status. If I was Justin Lee Collins, and let's face it I am just one chromosome away, then Channel 4 would be falling over themselves to make this happen.
I have just googled it and can't believe anyone was still performing this show as recently as 2004 - scratch that 2006. Can anyone find a more recent performance of this archaic show that that?
And would you believe that John Gardiner, the man responsible for this travesty has also written a play (possibly a musical) about Unity Mitford. I must get Collings to put on a one man version of it in Edinburgh.

Also got early drafts of the poster for Edinburgh. Still working things out and apologies to Steve Bennett whose name is spelled wrong (that will be corrected). Any thoughts or preferences on type face etc?

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