The Fear Blog. Part 18.

22 Aug

Gruesomely tired this morning. I had to get to Bobby's for 10am and ten he announced he'd pulled it because of lack of audience. I went with Nick Sun and Madelaine to a fancy cafe and splurged on a breakfast. That's right. £6.50. It had haggis in it. I rather liked it. This suggests I need to get out of Scotland. I'm going native. Like in that film when that guy became a blue, alien creature joining an army of savages against an oppressive intergalactic threat. You know the film. Braveheart.

I spent a few hours on the building site. It's amazing what Alex and Even are doing. Amazing and depressing at the same time. I know that between them they are in the business of building houses, but I find it incredible that they approach so much of this mammoth project with calm confidence, when lighting a barbecue leaves me frustrated and anxious. I scrubbed the rust off metalwork and painted on a new layer of fire resistant devil's blood. Nasty stuff. It was nice zoning out and getting on with a job. Very therapeutic. I could imagine doing it for a minute. Manual work. But then I realised I'd get quickly bored and I'm a bit weedy, so decided to not quit comedy to become a painter/decorator. Still, always nice to know there's something to 'fall back on'. That's a very parental statement. It's a wise position to take, but also means that you won't achieve anything that spectacular. You have to gamble and put everything on the line. I've been dipping my toe in the water for so many years, but it doesn't help. Just makes things worse. You just realise that you're standing at the edge of the water watching other people who have jumped in and are swimming fine. I think there's a line from the Great Gatsby which says something along the lines of, “When I was younger I thought myself moral, now I am thirty I see there is no honour to it. I was not moral, I just didn't participate.” Josh quoted that to me as I sat in the kitchen. It rather hit me between the eyes. I was a tiny bit stoned too, so it was doubly effective. My reaction was “Yeah. Wow. Oh.” I've hardly wasted the last few years, but it has been a rather long way of coming to a simple conclusion. I'm not going to get anywhere unless I get out there and gig like there's nothing else in life. It's true. At one time I was doing no gigs a week. What did that make me? A stand up comic? No. It made me a low-level administrator. Plain and simple. I don't think you can ever give your children better advice than “Go for it!” unless they have a nervous tic, a short-temper and are axe enthusiasts. Otherwise you drift in life and your confidence is slowly whittled away over the years. As Big George said: “If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.” My Dad texted me yesterday and said: “Saw your Scotsman article...a career in journalism beckons?”

1. He saw it, but didn't say “Well done” or “I enjoyed it.” He merely notes it existence. I love my parents, but they lack some fundamental social skills. Do they think that if they give me some kind of minor positive reinforcement I'm going to go on a murdering spree? Mum isn't so bad, but I think she has resigned herself to my fate, i.e. homelessness.
2. A career in journalism. Dad is funny. He thinks that journalism is a career whereas comedy isn't. He obviously thinks I'm just twiddling my thumbs with this comedy lark until something proper turns up. It's like, three years ago, when my mum said to me: “You don't HAVE to do comedy. Couldn't you be a funny headmaster?” These days, father, one can do stand up gigs, write articles, do a radio show and still not have enough to pay the bills. Journalism is dying. Fewer people are buying newspapers. I have also told him that the most lucrative thing I can do is to build websites. I don't think he thinks that's a thing either.

I don't harbour ill feelings towards my parents about it. I don't see the point. I'm not a rebellious teenager who wants to 'show them', but I don't want to be worried or disappointed either. In all honesty, I bet they're not all that bothered. It would be nice if they just accepted what I was doing and spoke kindly of it. It's not like we're 18th century landed gentry. They don't have an inheritance for me. However, I'm not saying I don't share some of their scepticism, it's just that I'm starting to agree with Machiavelli, who said something like “Make mistakes of action rather than the gravest mistake of inaction.” That is the ultimate truth. You can't hide behind fear and call it prudence. I know when I'm fooling myself. I also realise that if I don't have WIFI, I can't quote things accurately.

I saw Trevor Locke today. He has pulled more of his shows because no one is coming. He is on the Laughing Horse Free Fringe. How has that happened? Four star reviews and TV guarantee nothing. As Tony Hayers said to Alan Partridge, “We don't owe you a living.” A friend of his said “Oh well. There's always next year” which is a thoroughly stupid thing to say. We are mortal. Next year is one less.

I went to see Daniel Simonsen's show. He said I could sit in the tech box. A 25 year old asked me what I was doing in the venue. I said “I'm here to see Daniel.” He said “Are you WITH him or FOR him.” I said “With” and he backed off. Let me state this now: Many of the people who work at the Pleasance are unmitigated cunts. It's because they believe they have status. Simple as that. It's terrifying. Speaking of cunty cunts, a 5-star arsehead came in at the beginning of the show. He must have been nearly 40. He heard some hip hop on and said “Is that Dan's choice of tunes?” and I said “Yes” and he said “Sweet beats” as he bobbed his stupid public-school head with his ski resort tan. At the end of the show he said “Yo, did you think Dan was good cos the audience seemed up for it.” I said “Yes, the audience were great, so Daniel was able to relax and give his best.” He said “Ya, totally. Cos I saw him yesterday and he was sooo nervous and the crowd were,'t digging it. Oh, keep this one schtum, but I'm on the Fosters judging panel, yeah? Like all the other judges were like 'He's great and I was like whatever' but now I get it.” He then went out mouthing the words to Firestarter to the Prodigy.

For years I imagined what sort of fuckwit would be on a Fosters judging panel. I assumed that I was just being cynical. I assumed it was bitterness or envy. I assumed that I was imagining some cartoonish version of life.

But all along, I was right. I was fucking right, people. They are total ballbags who don't know the first thing about comedy. This country is ran by aristocratic favours. Always has been. I told Daniel, “He was a total fuckwit, but he really liked you.”

Joel Dommett came up and gave me a hug and said that I should stay for his show. I didn't really want to. The room was boiling and I was already feeling tired, but I thought it might be worth seeing what Joels' doing. Daniel said I should, and I thought it'd be rude to say no. Don't get me wrong. Joel is a great story teller, a very accomplished comedian, and (if you catch him at the right time) he will feign actually liking you, but his audience is generally teenage girls and he says “LITERALLY THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED. I LAUGHED FOR LITERALLY 23 MINUTES” and he gets laughs for it. I'm not saying he isn't funny, he clearly is, but I LITERALLY got bored of an hour of comedy which essentially plants 4 seeds and then harvests them all at the end and you say “Wooo...clever.” It's basically what every Edinburgh hour ever does. It's BORING. Daniel did a few call backs but that was it. Joel's show was about a bully and his revenge on the bully, but it didn't feel like he was really bullied and it all seemed petty and insubstantial. He does a nun-chuk routine in strobe lighting. That was LITERALLY the best bit. He also does a great routine about TGI Fridays too. In fairness, I think he was knackered too. Maybe he did have real pain to share on the 4th August, but repetition has led to meaninglessness. (As a litmus test, he did a bit about Megabus that usually storms but got nothing.) All comics are knackered by now. Watching his show was instructive too. I am not that kind of comic, and I'm pleased not to be. I don't want to tell people what I saw today that was literally the best thing ever. I want to tell them what they're feeling in certain situations, which literally aren't the best things ever. He's got great delivery and rhythm and he works hard, so kudos. Also, he was the best thing in that Pop World sitcom.

I wanted to say 'well done' to Joel after but groupie types were hanging around, as was Tom Rosenthal. My phone battery was dead, and I needed some charge so I scarpered. I saw Josh in the kitchen who decided not to go out. We drank a little wine and had a chat. He's 26 on Saturday. I think he's going to be an excellent comic.