25th September, 2009 - Beer - The Robber of Foresight

I am waiting for my mate The Advocate to phone me. He is playing chess just down the road from me, and when he finishes, we are going to eat curry and drink beer. It will be nice. I will eat too much. I will drink more than the amount that the Scottish Government recommend in their hectoring adverts. Afterwards I will feel full and a bit drunk. In the morning I will not feel very well. Which will be a bit bad. But it will be worth it. And anyway, I am not thinking about that now. I am thinking about the beer.

24th September, 2009 - Watch This Space!

I have just finished reading “The 39 Steps” and a right rollicking boys own read it is too (if a little too crammed full of the “I’m-trapped- in-this-cellar-however-will-I escape-oh-look-there’s-some-high-explosive- and-a-lighter type). It has left me with a thirst for adventure. I am planning a new project. Watch this space. As soon as I have caught up on these blog entries, I will need your help folks.

23rd September, 2009 - 10 Theatrical Anecdotes #8

Once we did a show called “Sparky’s Wizards School”. Some might say that it was a blatant attempt to cash in on the Harry Potter Zeitgeist. Some might say that it was a cheap piece of commercialism. Some might say that it was an attempt to fleece the parents of impressionable young children.

Well, they can say it all they like. It packed them in, and the kids left the theatre happy after an hour of knockabout fun.

Well. Most of them did.

The show resulted in the only time that we have ever been asked for a refund. And it all arose out of a misunderstanding. You see, to publicise the show, we sent various members of the cast and crew out onto the streets of Edinburgh in costume. On this particular day, our steadfast set-builder, a bespectacled man in his middle years, took to the High Street in an outsized chicken outfit. One of the few families with young children who didn’t run screaming from him looked at the flyer and asked him, “Is this a magic show then?”

Our trusty man from Lanarkshire replied: “Aye – it’s totally magic.”

(For foreign readers and those who live more than ten miles from Tannochside, I should explain that in the Lanarkshire vernacular, “magic” is a term used to denote excellence. It does not necessarily imply the presence of David Copperfield).

At any event the family bought a ticket, but left after about twenty minutes and then volubly demanded their money back on the basis that they had been sold a pup. “Where were the tricks?” they demanded of the front of house team.

We refused them, and happily the story ended up in the diary section of The Herald. Where it gave us more publicity and sold us more tickets.

22nd September, 2009 - A Man Called Horse

I did not have the most relaxing start to the day. For once I woke up before the kids. There were a few minutes of peaceful bliss. A few minutes, where it was like the old days. The days when, after you awoke, you had the luxury of a decision. A decision about whether to slip back off to sleep, or maybe read for an hour, or maybe slip out of bed, make a coffee and return to the cool sheets before getting up to face the day.

But that is not a decision that I have available to me any more. By 7.30 am, both children were in the bedroom. One of them had turned on the radio, de-tuned it, and turned the volume right up, so that we had an accompaniment of deafening white noise. One child was complaining bitterly about having lost her “blue and white princess dress” (she does not have a blue and white princess dress, but she dreams about it from time to time, and then complains bitterly when it cannot be found). The other child was sitting astride me, pretending to be a small, but remarkably heavy jocky.

I chose to get up.

21st September, 2009 - 10 Theatrical Anecdotes #7

One of the oddest experiences I ever had in a theatre, was when one of the actors in one of our kids shows came down with laryngitis. This is the sort of thing that you dread when you put on shows. We’ve had a couple of occasions in the past ten years of running shows when actors have fallen ill or injured themselves. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really care about the actors (or as my mate The Crew calls them “Talking Props”), but the thought of having to return box office takings turns me white with fear.

On this occasion, rather than cancel the show, my Significant Other had to step into the role. This involved her dressing up in a bright blue clown wig, and yellow dungarees decorated with tropical fruit. It spoiled our physical relationship for some months.

20th September, 2009 - 10 Theatrical Anecdotes #6

I think my most tense moment as a director came during a run in Edinburgh of my own show “Sex Lies and an Eighties Tribute Band”. I came in to see the cast just before the house opened one night. I am not generally one for pep talks, but I think it’s good to show face. However, on this occasion I came in to discover an enormous argument going on between two of the principals.

Not an ordinary argument. A proper toe to toe, nose to nose argument. The type of argument that often presages traded punches and police intervention. Swear words and serious threats were being traded.

The other actors in the play were looking on a bit fretfully. I suspect the thought of having to take to the stage with two players set on homicide was not an entirely enticing prospect. One of them tried to intervene. It was my mate, The Advisor, who tried to take on the role of peacemaker. Unfortunately, he was at the time wearing a skin tight red leotard, which (for reasons that escape me now) was essential to a cheap laugh in the opening scene.

There is a reason that the UN peacekeeping force in Palestine does not wear red lycra cat suits. It does not create the proper degree of dignity.

19th September, 2009 - 10 Theatrical Anecdotes #5

Q: What do you not want to find under the stage?

A: A three day old bottle of piss from a weak bladdered actor.

You know who you are.