I've had a nice time. I totally understand that that's not allowed but maybe the spirit of Christmas has actually decided to let me have a couple of nice days of joy amongst the constant downpour of shit. Not that it was all good. A delivery man woke me up at 7 to ask if I would look after a package for my next door neighbour that could easily slip through their letterbox, a woman with vomit on her coat shouted some dog-care advice at me and I saw Tramadol Nights again. But the last two days have been just lovely.
On Tuesday I went to the BBC Radio Light Entertainment Party. Of course, I shouldn't have been there. I've not written anything for Radio 4 or been on Loose Ends or listened to The Now Show without screaming my guts out. The great thing was though that everyone who should have been there was there. The room was full of the very cream of radio comedy and I knew they were important because I didn't recognise any of them. These were the very people who could really make changes to my career. They're inventive professionals who make great things happen. So I stayed in a corner with Andrew Collins. The last thing I need right now is success. At one point Chris Addison almost introduced me to someone but she turned her back just in time thus avoiding a professional or friendly relationship ending in shouting, punching and violent sex. If only more people were as nice as she was. Just think about that next time you're introduced to someone. Do they look nice? They do? Then why not just turn your back and walk away. Why would you give a nice person even a chance of horror? I don't know who she was but I thank her for being as thoughtful as she was. Our relationship is as good today as it was 20 years ago and If she hadn't turned her back all of that could have changed.
My favourite thing about going to a party that by rights I shouldn't have been invited to was that I totally shook the system from the inside. Bennett Arron wanted to come but he didn't have an invitation. I remembered I'd seen Dave Gorman's name on the list at the door but hadn't seen Dave at the party. Problem solved. Bennett could just show up and say he was Dave Gorman. Bennett, being Bennett, had a problem being Dave. "I don't look anything like Dave Gorman", he whined in his campy little voice. There's more than one Dave Gorman, you know. I think he made a big deal of that himself once.
Bennett got in. Then we went to the pub. So full of nice people and festive cheer. Then I remembered I had a dog and went home to watch Tramadol Nights. WHY IS THAT ALWAYS HAPPENING TO ME?
Yesterday was great too. I'd never been to one of Robin Ince's Godless shows before and was very excited to be going. Once again I'd be in the company of lovely people being funny. Mr & Mrs Jim Bob were there as was Liz Buckley. My favourites. Jim performed The Impossible Dream which was all lovely. Plus among the comedians and musicians on stage were scientists and mathematicians who can wow, educate and baffle an audience brilliantly. Matt Parker certainly can. He showed a photograph of his wife as a child at Disneyland and in the background the young Matt himself was standing with his Dad. Through maths and rational thinking Matt proved that it was just a coincidence that these two people who are now married and have spent years together passed each other for two seconds as kids and were captured in a photograph. The room was silent. You need to put maths to one side sometimes, Matt. That is NOT JUST a coincidence. That is fucking amazing.
I also met Robyn Hitchcock at the gig. I have a history with Robyn so I tend to avoid him in case I accidentally set fire to him. But HE came up to me "You're the infamous Michael Legge", he said with a big smile. We shook hands, had a quick chat and off he went. I waited for the door to close behind him before breathing again. Phew. I didn't kill him.
See? Isn't that all lovely? It is. It's all lovely. A couple of days with all my favourite people having a nice time. It was perfect.
It was almost perfect.
Of course it wasn't fucking perfect. Throughout the Godless show Liz and I sat next to fucking Abie fucking Philbin-Bowman, a solid gold 100% wanker. He fake laughed so loudly through the whole thing it was impossible to fully enjoy it. Even the man in front of us had to turn to Abie and say "Really?" Sigh. It was so close to being perfectly lovely. Oh, that Abie!
http://michaelleggesblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/sick-sober-and-sorry.html
www.michaellegge.info
3 comments:
This reminds me of a conversation I have in my head sometimes. I really should, at some time, write it down. It's the conversation of fame realities. See, to me, you are a big star. Here you are talking about these other folks, who to me are also big stars. You are all on the same level. Your on the same level as all celebrities as far as I am concerned, and all celebrities are on the same level. Well, level isn't even a good term. Let's us the term, in the same "camp". We are all equals after all. But, the idea that one celebrity would feel as though they didn't match up to another celebrity for whatever reason is unfortunate. To me, you are a celebrity. The local radio show host is a celebrity. Prince Charles is a celebrity. All celebrities. You all play a role in peoples lives, whether it be entertaining, or what have you. There are a collective group of people who share a common bond in their knowledge and enjoyment of you, just as there are with any celebrities. Is this making any sense? This has always been a conversation in my head, so putting it on internet paper for the first time, I see that my mental conversation isn't as brilliant as I thought my mental conversation was. Or is. Or will be, most likely.
Um. Anyway. Happy Holidays.
You don't have to watch Tramadol Nights, you know.
Not in a professional sense. Not in an inquisitive sense.
And definitely not in a jesus-fuck-it-can't-be-as-godawful-as-it-was-last-week-oh-wait-it-is sense.
Like a kitten with AIDS, it's not going to get any better. If you haven't seen an episode, and someone tells you how brilliant it was, you can ask them to fucking well prove it.
Anyway, Happy Christmas :)
Oh fuck, I just made an AIDS joke.
I'm now on FB's level.
head/desk/head/desk.
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