A terrifying prospect. Particularly if you're only four feet tall...
I had done some stand up in the past, but when I was doing it Margaret Thatcher was still stalking the land, like some huge Jurassic Tory nightmare. Some weeks ago, whilst sitting at home sipping a glass or two of Shiraz, I was reading the programme of forthcoming events at The David Hall Centre in South Petherton. The David Hall is an old church that has been re-born as this wonderful arts centre that seems to specialise in folk music and small scale touring theatre groups. Their programme stated that on the last Sunday of each month they host a "performers night". This is an open-mic event where anyone can come along and, well, do what they want. In a moment of Shiraz fuelled bravado I emailed them and said something along the lines of "gaaarg-thnarrrg performersh night - hic - I can do that...BARP... I can do a shtand up shlot for you.... (thud - slides unconscious to the floor - but not before sending the email)." And I promptly forgot I'd sent it. About a week later I check my emails and I am doomed. I get a reply from Chris Latham at the David Hall stating that they were looking forward to seeing me on the 26th September and had booked me a ten minute slot. ARGH! Oh my God! It's real! And so that little entry on my calendar on the wall, the one stating "stand up" in an innocent looking way, was suddenly looming up before me like the iceberg must have looked just before it struck the Titanic.
I put together a little 10 minute routine about being Henry VIII, some of the things kids say to me, Viagra adverts on my emails and even a joke or two about new age/pagan names (sorry!). I rehearsed it a few times wandering round the flat, but would it make people laugh? I added some other jokes as well, about me having an eating disorder (I am a bulimic with amnesia - I gorge on food but then forget to throw up afterwards) and an addiction (I drink brake fluid, but I can stop whenever I want to) and it seemed to pep things up a bit. Suddenly it was Sunday morning of the 26th September. I had stage fright like I had not experienced since my first appearance at the Edinburgh Fringe back in 1987. By halfway through the afternoon I was on the verge of phoning the hall and saying I was ill, but I could not have looked myself in the face after that. So I went over...
It wasn't full, by any stretch of the imagination. The David Hall holds about 150 people maximum, but tonight we had about 25! There were folk singers aplenty, a very talented pretty young girl (probably still at school) who sang A Capella three numbers ranging from Elizabethan plain song to a Gershwin number, a duo with electric violin, and there was even one half of the band who had played at my 40th birthday party back in 2007 (see this blog passim). The lady in question (whose name escapes me - and I apologise) did some numbers accompanying herself on ukulele - and was brilliant. She included one delightfully moving little song about her 3 year old son called "Tick Tock", all about the passing of time and wishing it would stop so you could savour those golden moments all the more. I knew exactly what she meant. And then I was summoned onto stage...
...and it was all over! I went through my 10 minutes, got a stack of laughs, and on finishing got a roar of appreciation from the small audience and a long ovation. Very gratifying. I stayed to the end of the show watching the other artists before finally slipping away into the night. I got home about 11pm and celebrated with a glass or two of Shiraz (inevitably) - just hope I haven't sent any more emails to arts centres.
Today I am driving back to Kent to stay at my sister's near Sittingbourne as tomorrow I am back for my SEVENTH (yes, SEVENTH) visit to Blean School near Canterbury. I can't wait! And don't forget, next weekend it's the return of Chut Fest at Barrington Court. Chut Fest 2010 - see you there!
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