A Royal Mill...

If there's one thing I'm pretty good at, it's milling around. Today, my first day of just over a week of Fringe on my lonesome, was spent first by legging it from Haymarket to the Pleasance Courtyard in time for a bacon roll (surprisingly good and not too dear for the Fringe at £1.80 really) and then mooching.

The first mooch was at the Courtyard. This lasted about 1 and a half to 2 hours or so. Me sitting at a bench trying to work out what was happening in Beyond (rehearsals, it turned out) and spotting the Penny Dreadfuls wandering around and entering and exiting the building several times. Then Jo Caulfield turned up and sat on the same bench as me, facing another bench and not me though. After draining my Coke and thinking, 'those comedians over there probably need these benches for their Tesco-based impromptu picnic', I upped sticks... to the Pleasance Dome where I got an espresso and a cookie. Espresso is not the ideal milling around drink, but it does make me feel like a giant (or Greg Davies).

When milling around you do get targeted by flyerers... a lot. One handed me a flyer for the excellent Nat Luurtsema (who I've already seen) which I took (even though I've already seen it - for a memento, you see) and then explained that I'd already seen it to the flyerer. There commenced a nice chat and we wished each other well and went our separate ways. Well, he walked off, I very much remained at the table. It's kind of separate, certainly not opposite ways. You'd probably need some manner of velocity graph to imply direction and explain it... anyway, he went off and I remained at the crumb-covered (ruddy cookie) table with my espresso, of which the remnants were now starting to congeal and solidify. Surely this would give away the fact that I'd been sat here for hours... But no! Several Glaswegians asked to join me and the table and we all had a good chinwag, not one of them noticing that I'd been here long enough for the bit at the bottom of my espresso that was once definitely liquid had turned into that nightmarish, grisly stain that coffee goes... you know the ones... like when you go to a Costa or Starbucks and you get that bit at the bottom that you don't really want to drink because it's kind of solid residue and... ahem... Basically, they didn't notice and we had a nice conversation. They were off to see Emma Thompson in about 30 minutes (I didn't let on that I'd already been there for about 2 hours) and eventually headed off to queue.

At this point I thought 'well, I've proved my point, I've been good enough not just to let strangers onto the table I was hogging with the remnants of my sort of lunch, I suppose, but to engage in a lively conversation with them' and got up to go to the bar, when who should I see at a table in there but Nat Luurtsema herself, writing in a notebook with about 20 minutes to go before her show. I went to the bar and got a lime and soda to counteract the morning/afternoon's caffeine (Yeah, I know I'm lame, I've learnt to live with it, why can't you...?) and took a table. I swallowed a few gulps of fruit enhanced fizzy water (bargain though, it's a wonder anyone drinks anything else... 40p!). If the last few days had taught me anything it was that generally comedians are lovely people and are usually appreciative when you go to bother them, yet it was close to her show and she was busy writing notes. I plucked up to courage to walk over and tell her that I'd seen the show a few days ago and really enjoyed it. She was no exception to the comedian rule and was appreciative despite my timing. We had a quick chat and I went back to the table and was quickly surrounded by the queue for the Footlights.

It's odd, but there's a strange feeling you get talking to your favourite comedians. The ones that I've had the experience of bothering in their day to day lives (again, sorry, if any of you are reading this... not sure why you would really, but hey) have been genuinely pleased to meet their fans and as well as getting a feeling of childish, giddy excitement at meeting them you also come away with a sense that your view does matter to them, that it's nice to hear how much you've enjoyed their work, a sort of warmth at making them feel better about themselves too. I think that's why comedian bothering is becoming so worryingly addictive to me.

It's been a good day for positive outlook and here's a thought: next time you see someone you admire (doesn't have to be a comedian) tell them that you do. Let's all just be encouraging and get along with each other, eh?

Changing the World...

Before Mark Watson disappeared on holiday, he left us with a challenge. To simply 'change the world'. No mean feat, I'm sure you'll agree. Now, he did make clear that it could be only little things, he wasn't expecting us to negotiate peace between Israel and Palestine, just to bring some happiness to the local community.

This world-changing happened to coincide with the weekend of the charity bike ride. I've done it for quite a few years now, but this year I took a slightly more active role in helping to facilitate the running of it, which consisted of clearing some paths of nettles (with a scythe... the manly way to do it) and volunteering to be back marker. Something which goes completely against my nature when it comes to cycling and mostly consisted of making sure no-one got lost and helping tiny kiddies up hills on their little bikes. To handicap myself, I used my new second-hand mountain bike where the top big wheel gear doesn't work and the cadence required to keep up with people on road bikes makes Lance Armstrong's look like Jan Ulrich's. (That's a cycling joke there, for you cycling fans... what do you mean none of you are?!)

A far cry from last year where my Cavendish-like sprint past several miffed looking middle-aged cyclists on the home straight is still local cycle legend to this day. 'It's not a race' They clearly thought. It was so a race... in my head (nothing wrong with a bit of impromptu bike racing... next time you're out on your bike and you see one of those office types on their bikes, race them, they'll thank you for it one day...). I didn't cry like Cavendish though, just sank into a bath and rubbed cream on my perineum. I imagine the HTC Columbia riders have someone to do that for them. Ah, how the other half lives...

As I say, this year was different, this year was about helping everyone achieve their goals, whether it be make it to the halfway point in the forest or full circle to the finish line. The ultimate goal was of course to raise as much money as possible for Children in Distress, a wonderful charity that cares for suffering children in Eastern Europe. And by all accounts, this year's ride was a roaring success on that front. At the finish line we were presented with medals (like the marathon, but without Sue Barker and Brendan Foster, stopping us every few metres), a nifty new addition for the 2010 ride.


Me with the aforementioned medal. Will update you when I have confirmation of final total raised for Children in Distress.

TYSIC - Older and Wiser...?

Well there were two celebrations over the weekend, one was Or So I Thought...'s hundredth post and the other was my birthday. So over the course of 100 (hopefully) funny ramblings, the blog has evolved from a few random points to structured culture moral toss arguing with the occasional bit of improvised comedy. Which is probably more than I can say for myself.

As for me, do I feel older? Not especially. My neck hurts a bit more than usual, but I'm still too skinny, I'm still rubbish at eating in public (there's pressure, I get nervous, that makes me feel sick and not exactly hungry... I digress), I've still achieved very, very little and now I have an extra year to tag onto that legacy of procrastination and failure. That said, I hope that I have at least provided some entertainment in my time and that is why it's as good a time as any for a TYSIC update.

Ok, I'm not going to lie, not a whole lot of progress has been made. I'm part way through a rewrite of the sitcom script, first draft of a co-authored miniseries project is nearly finished, I've arsed about with a few chords and some lyrics and the closest I've been to Ireland is Liverpool. As you can see, not a whole lot of progress, but then this is the 10 Year Self Improvement Challenge and seeing as that's a fairly heft percentage of my life so far, I'm still hopeful of achieving things come 2020 (which incidentally is what I hope my vision will still be by the end of the challenge).

I shall endeavour to add a few reviews onto the blog (by which I mean reviews of films or TV shows... or other people's reviews a la my character assassination of Christopher Tookey from a few weeks ago, as opposed to just reviewing my posts, I might be a touch egotistical, but that be a trifle too much, I suspect) over the coming weeks (I have hopes of being able to actually make some manner of living out of being cynical and loquacious at some point and will need some manner of experience and portfolio to present to an employer, instead of just turning up to the interview and ranting until they inevitably give the job to someone who they already know or who is already rich and famous - not that I'm still bitter about recent events or anything...) so I hope at least to steer you towards the classics and push you away from the turkeys before it's too late. That means having to go out and watch films, watch TV and listen to music so you don't have to... it's a hard life, I know...

Have a good Bank Holiday Monday (yeah, that's right, I still blog on bank holidays. Take that, banking sector!) and thanks to all the followers who sent me birthday messages, lovely people that you are.

Election Fever...

Yep, that's Election Fever, like Scarlet Fever or Rheumatic Fever, but more, y'know, electiony. I know I promised I wouldn't bang on too much about the election but today history shall be made as ITV actually produce a programme without any ad breaks (who'da thunk it?). Brown, Cameron and Clegg (a line-up that could be easily confused with the latest series of Last of the Summer Wine...) will trade blows on live television in front of phlegmatic Alasdair Stewart in the first of 3 no doubt riveting bouts of policy bashing and general name-calling, while Farage, Griffin and Salmond just have a fight by the bins outside the ITN news building (presumably).

Well, the ad in today's Guardian for the debate features the strong profiles of the three would-be PMs- Brown, determined; Cameron, pouty; Clegg, portrayed by Frank Lampard apparently. So what's going to happen. Well, fully expect a couple of "step outside, poshboy"s and prepare to hear the word 'change' more often than if you were attending a beggar's convention. Will it sway the voters? We just don't know and regardless of what the papers' experts say tomorrow, we'll have to wait until May to find out.



TYSIC Update

Progress with one of the writing projects is coming on leaps and bounds by virtue of this month being Script Frenzy month. There's a lesson here, a little structured motivation can push on projects that you've been procrastinating over for a long time. As for voicing a video game character... well, your guess is as good as mine. Unless next month is 'Voice a Video Game Character Month' then this one could take a larger percentage of the ten years than my other goals. Hope all you TYSICers are doing just swell. Until Next week's update, adieu.

TYSIC Update...

This is quick one, because I've spent the whole day travelling and... well, Daddy's tired, followers, he'll play with you tomorrow instead.

Right, I actually remembered to do one of these today, so make the most of it. Progress on the goals is slow, however that won't stop me from adding two brand new points right here, right now. I'm giving myself 10 years to teach myself drums and jazz piano. I've managed to teach myself guitar to a pretty decent level and keyboards to a adequate level of competancy, so I have faith in my ability for it. So that's another point to whack onto the list, despite the fact I'm yet to complete any of my existing goals. What could possibly go wrong? Well, I guess we'll find out in 10 years time.

Things I Learnt While I Was Away

• Banana Choc Chip flavour = Epic Ice Cream Flavour-based Win
• The Day Today would have been bang on the money if they'd replaced the "It's War!" scene with the "It's an Election!" scene
• Alan Hansen and Mark Lawrenson leave Match of the Day before the end, that's why there's not analysis on the final two fixtures that are lumped together, they're in the taxis back to Liverpool. So says my Uncle...

Today's blog was brought to you by the number 0, which coincidentally is the number of times professional Ornithologists have described the Bald Eagle as a "Fuck-off huge skinhead of a bird" to me.

Unlucky For Some...

Watching daytime TV can throw up a number of questions: "Where did it all go wrong?", "Why didn't I do better in life when I had the chance?", "How can I have eaten all the Ben & Jerry's this quickly?", "How has Dick van Dyke retained his medical licence? He's too preoccupied with solving crime that he can't possibly dedicate enough time and thought to the medical care of his patients." and "Why the fuck do people still live in Cabot Cove or Midsomer? The entire population of those two places has been culled about three times over."

This isn't a dig at people who watch it, you understand - I am one of those people asking all these questions, especially the last two. Whether it's daytime BBC soap Doctors - which veers from snappy, witty dialogue and homages to Hitchcock to the downright preposterous and melodramatic - or Channel 4's Coach Trip- in which a group of appalling people are herded onto a coach with a Union Jack emblazoned on it, just so the European types know exactly where to direct their complaints - I've seen 'em. Coach Trip is a hidden gem of a show really. Imagine a Shearings (other coach companies are available) populated with the most infuriating and morally vacuous people in the country travelling around the world, while arguing and voting each other off and you're some way to grasping the pitch. Comedy writer David Quantick provides a wry commentary, but the real star of the show is tour guide Brendan. He breaks up fights between the tourists, he does accents while reading out the location to which they are heading and he has a wonderful camp, world-weariness about him. He is, needless to say, wasted on the Coach Trippers.

Indeed, I can't help but feel that a major draw of programmes like Coach Trip and Come Dine With Me is enjoying the misfortune of other people. There is a certain catharsis in witnessing the mishaps, derisible remarks and idiocy of other people and there's a decent argument that it is this Schadenfreude which makes shows like that so successful. Similarly if one looks at quiz shows such as the BBC's Alexander Armstrong-fronted, reverse Family Fortunes quiz 'Pointless'. As good as one feels when they score a pointless (an correct answer not given by any of the 100 people asked before the show), we would settle for simply being better than the contestants. We revel in their stupid mistakes and it makes us feel more intelligent. Whether it's worth sacrificing one's integrity on a gameshow for the greater good of public enjoyment remains to be seen.

The internet too has made a fortune out of Schadenfreude, so many websites simply showcasing the idiocy of other people receive millions of hits. Forgive me for reliving yesterday's experiences, but I wonder what happens when (and it must happen from time to time) two wankers come face to face (maybe that's not the right phrase...) on Chatroulette. Instead of assuming that they instantly 'next', I fancy that there is a moment where both freeze, wracked with existential doubt, staring impotently at the abyss (i.e. the other internet masturbating nuisance) and it stares back into them. Instantly faced with an equally immoral, disgraceful deviant they rethink their lives entirely, re-evaluating the decisions and failures that led them to grimly bash one out over a shocked stranger on a webcam. They close Chatroulette, pull their trousers on and head out to make the world a better place. This is highly unlikely, but I can't help but feel that the world would be a better place if it was true.


TYSIC Update

Well, we're a week into the Ten Year Self Improvement Challenge and I'm as cynical as ever, however I do have ten years in which to remedy this, so I'm not too worried yet. As for the writing goals, I have a very raw first draft of my sitcom pilot, though it could well take ten years for me to produce a rewrite that I'm happy with. I managed to pile through the fog of writer's block and finish a chapter last night (well... at 1.30 this morning...), however so much of the novel remains and it only gets tougher from here. I've also picked up a side-project writing sketches for a play, so that one's a bonus. Provisional plans to go to Ireland are in place, but yet to be acted upon - Canada and the French Riviera remain pipedreams for the present. I'm no closer to voicing a video game character (not entirely sure how to go about getting into it) or writing a song that I'm happy with - what with all the writing projects, music has been put somewhat on the backburner. Still, there's another 9 years and 51 weeks to go. Wish me luck...

TYSIC...

Ok, some of you may be wondering what this seemingly random string of letters entails. Well, it's an acronym for Ten Year Self Improvement Challenge- an iniative started by comedian Mark Watson to make the world a better place (one could even say substantially better) that begins on this very day, March 4th. TYSIC is rather appropriate for me, given my recent worries about the old midlife crisis.

In case, you're wondering the midlife crisis is continuing apace. Today I spent an hour in the garage of a well-known car manufacturer, I won't name names (why does this sound familiar...?), let's just call them, say, Boyota. They were performing some engineering to stop my car's accelerator from inadvertantly killing me. 'Good, what's wrong with that?' you might be wondering. Well, it meant sitting there watching Animal Park in dodgy black and white, fetching various caffeinated beverages and reading the newspapers strewn across the glass tables, while thinking things like 'this is taking a long time, maybe I should say something. Probably wouldn't reflect well on me if I said something...' etc. It couldn't have been more mid-life crisis-y if I'd had a pipe and slippers.

Driving home there was more cause for concern. I heard the best string of 'Non-Stop Oldies' on the Steve Wright Big Show ever - classic after classic- the Kinks, the Who, Derek and the Dominoes (you haven't lived until you've crept through a rural village blasting 'Layla' at full volume to frightened and bemused primary school kids), James Brown, Otis Redding. A stellar line-up. That definitely makes me old, doesn't it. Arse.

Actually this would be a good time to slot in some careless, uninformed analysis of the current BBC cuts situation. The idea of BBC 6Music being forced into closure seems to have a lot of people up in arms. I do occasionally listen but I couldn't call myself a regular (not since the days of Russell Brand moving to Radio 2 anyhow), however I can see that its closure would effectively snuff out thousands of exciting new artists hopes of reaching their audience. I'm told that 6Music has access to every record produced from 1960 onwards (unverified) and to wipe out such an extensive library seems a little odd to me. I'm reliably informed, by many people of greater influence, importance and wealth than myself, that we must do something about it, so let's stick it to the man... or something. A quote I see a lot with regard to 6Music is that it caters for those 'too old for Radio 1 and too young for Radio 2'. Well I was 'too old' for Radio 1 when I was about 13 and at no point was I ever 'too young' for Radio 2, no matter how uncool that makes me. I'm not ashamed about it, I'm not here to preserve my already ailing 'street cred' otherwise I wouldn't have waxed lyrical about today's Non-Stop Oldies selection.

All of this is why I figured it might be time to thrust myself into the Ten Year Self Improvement Challenge. A lot can happen in 10 years (hopefully), so I'll have to draft a list.

1. Finish my sitcom pilot script, plus series outline and character bios. I would give you some information about it, but I'm still convinced that Whitehouse and Higson stole the idea for Down the Line from me... the house may well be bugged.
2. Write a song that I'm actually pleased with - musically and lyrically.
3. Voice a video-game character - this is just a dream I've always had, don't really know why. I've been told I have a good voice for such things and I did meet Steve Blum once, he seemed a jolly nice chap.
4. Finish my novels and aim to get them published - There's two on the go presently, neither approaching completion at this stage (just as well I've got ten years to do it in)
5. Go to Ireland, Canada and the French Riviera - these are the destination-y kind of ones. I know some people say Nepal or Bolivia, but I'm better off in places where I can't get debilitating wasting diseases.

Those are the five main points, but I suspect others might creep in. Notice there's no 'get a decent job' etc. on here. I figure that I don't have time for that if I'm already at my midlife crisis. I'll try and keep you loyal readers posted with regard to my successes or otherwise in the TYSIC and if anyone else fancies joining in, it's a great way to try and improve your life/prospects/chances of furthering the human race etc.

Good luck, fellow TYSICers, see you on the other side.