have done three performances of Scrooge, and my Jacob Marley is going down well. In the last one i had to get a train all the way from Preston to Bournemouth. made it, made it in time to help with the get it, cos i’m a get – grrr! The audience in Bournemouth were the best of the three, only one couple got up in sudden anger and left, i think they disliked the ‘fucks’ being repeated in the script. Not by myself but by Scrooge himself….he never said any when i first did the show over two weeks ago…it has evolved. Indeed the entire show has evolved , looser, funnier, but really…is repetitive swearing that funny? unless there’s some point to it. of course it was easy to lambast the unfortunate couple after they left, that is, behind their backs. but i could see that Niall – not Noel but similar – was a bit shaken by the experience. when it happened my character wasn’t on stage. and neither was i. and neither was laurel and hardy. I’m having trouble recalling the lines of the poems, maybe because the poem is quite weak, despite being written by Lewis Stevenson.. apart from that bit i am well into the improvisation which emily seems to want from this production. ad libs are encouraged, and of course response to mouthy audience members. in a room….there are many different types. the bournemouth room was the best so far, acoustically great. they also gave us a scrumptious meal, i had some pasta.

On a train once more, or am i just going off the rails. I’m amazed i made it to the last weekend without serious illness. but the last week has been a pit of paper hankies and germ transubstantiation. a time of recharging my batteries. Of sleep. Of snacking. Binge watched Rumpole of the Bailey, what an interesting tv series, with well defined – if snotty – characters. Eleri, who used to be a barrister, vouches for its technical accuracy when it comes to court proceedings. The content is a little dated i guess, but it’s intelligent – some comedy, some very dark stuff also. and rumpole is a cross between Falstaff and Lear, for he has a level of tragedy inbuilt. what if i could write a stand up comic character of the same ilk? what indeed my dear boy.

eleri was too ill to give me, or buy me, any birthday/xmas presents. even her card was a temporary piece of paper! i sent out a few cards, some pop up cards from a pop up shop in newcastle market.

on a train once more, post xmas. but pre new year. so much travelling, except the last 5 days or so i was a broken man, in bed with the lurgy. Our house every xmas becomes an extension ward to the hospital. both eleri and myself do nothing but cough, sneeze, nap, drink cough medicine, swallow flu capsules.

the other day , in crewe station, i saw a young woman get very upset because the trains were all messed up…but what made me laugh was when she asked the station man for info he had one of those non voices, like he’d lost it in an operation, it sounded worse than the worse NetworkRail tannoy, very tannoying indeed. Screech it was more than a voice.

Emotional loneliness becomes me. no one knows what it’s like. i think a lot of friends who never contact me, and don t bother thinking of people who choose to be there for me. yes on a train once more, and the internet onboard is crap. the whole thing is crap. what a shit show – on my way to Hull.