I think i must have reached a zenith in my career a couple of weeks back when i played santa clause in cafe down in Swansea. it was on a saturday and sunday morning, and this ‘gig’ made up for the fact that the comedy gig on sat night had been pulled. made up for it financially that is. you’d think i would have played father christmas by now, but now…this was the first time i donned the red boiler suit. Where ‘s my motivation coming from ?? is a zenith up or down??

the cafe was the Blue Bell, in a place called Ty Coch Square. i took the bus there on day, so i could try on the costume, and the crazy thing was: from the bus i could see the edge of Swansea, where the fields begin. It was like that scene in The Truman Show where, at the end, he finds the edge of the studio mocked up town! The bus took a circuitous route indeed. The swansea and Mumbles bay far below was magnificent. Anyway, the santa job was pretty straight forward and went well. The saturday was quick and easy with only 3 kids, while the St had a great deal more. i got to read a story book as well.

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.

Still in west wales, after 5 days, leccy’s still out. I was stuck in stockport on sunday night because all trains were buggered. Jon Abrams saved my bacon….again, i was meant to sat with a couchsurfer person, but i couldn’t face it – too many messages. I did a gig in Buxton Opera House on friday. it is a massive room, and agraman himself (He books the Buzz comedy clubs) told me it is the hardest room he’s got. and there were some voices comin from the audience. maybe on coke said some. the gig was pretty good but rough at the end. I got an ovation of 4 people at the end, in a crowd of 154 people. were they four cokeheads ? i don t know, but such was the darkness and the vastness of the room that it made me feel insecure, i mean 4 people liked me out of a huge amount who perhaps didn’t….no they did.

Sale arts center the next day…i knew it would be awkward. as it was last time.. Dave williams was MC and it was good to see him. The legend continues. In Sale arts centre there was also a small exhibition of Ray Harryhausen models and paraphenalia, including old test footage of unfinished projects. a great alien in War of the Worlds.

anyway, i took the bus from Buxton to Stockport, and then took a very long bus journey to Sale. the wind and the rain were cold whilst i stood by the bus stop. a langorous languid loquacious afternoon…I spent a long afternoon and evening in a room in the arts centre, but did go for a meal, sawarma meat and rice and salad.

That reminds me i had a great meal in newcastle, on the friday morning…a cheapy cafe with an ambience out of the sixties. Laaagane salad and cheaps/chips. Mmmm. The gigs up there on the thursday night went great. But , in heaton stan fc gig a woman came up to at the end and said ‘you upset me and my husband because you waved your hand in front of my husband’s face….and he/we a neurological disorder’. This really happened…she was moody, and sour faced, and perhaps the neurological disorder is more a desire not to smile or laugh.

As i say i was stuck in stockport both saturday and Sunday night. curse = the timing was terrible as i had a gig on monday afternoon. This gig was to be a challenge in more ways than one. Getting there of course was part of the fun. i got a 7.30 train to Crewe where i changed for Birmingham (the train staff at the station told me it would b possible to go direct to Newport but they were wrong, there was a train down on the Hereford line)….i had to get to Newport so Dewi could meet me and give me lift to the gig and back. Forest Hills golf club near the village of Mile End…what a drive to get there, through the vistas of Chepstow. The castle is magnificent above the river….Normans knew what they were doing when keeping the welsh out. the little bridges. Dewi drives like a demon in his big pick up truck. We wnet back to his house first and i rested on the sofa. But then his dog, Juno, is a pain in the arse. This dog has OCD when it comes to playing fetch, she will do it all day long, and won’t let it rest. She doesn’t even bother with a stick, she picks up tiny twigs, leaves, tiny bits of bark, before too long she’ll be pickin up quanta of atoms and asking a human to throw it for her.

The gig in the golf club was tough, i had to wait over an hour past the stage time b4 going on. I did it using the house sound system – what is it about radio microphones, why are they so shit? cutting out.

did teh gig under difficult circumstances. i go out to the foyer and drink my guiness, the first thing that happens a woman comes out, comes up tom – i’m thinking to say something complimentary – she says ‘you shoudln’t use the word retard, make fun of blah blah blah’ , it made me angry as i’d just worked hard to entertain a difficult room, i told her so as well. she keeps on about it. i say ‘I t’s comedy’ she says ‘it isn’t’. I say ‘ it is;!!!!

I have tense nervous headaches as a couple of busy intense weeks approach, leading up to xmas. The Paul Sinah gig in Mumbles, hope itr all goes alright. I have to get cash out so i can pay the acts. how much is VAT these days ?

Read the Government Inspector by Gogol, a grand farce, a classic, a definitive take on bureaucratic corruption, and very funny. Gogol’s Dead Souls also passed b4 my eyes, such is the wealth of the libraries, ah it is a grand satire, but i didn’t bother reading Volume 2.

going to stay in Fran and Keith’s this week, i hope it’s not freezing at night as i lie on the living room floor. The other day i stayed at Vino’s house, and got a nice brekfast, though the gig i did for him was a bit odd, teh first night in a conservative club in High Lane…basically like the old working mens club.