We’re not married; I don’t tell you everything, you know. So, I got that part I probably didn’t tell you about. It didn’t seem important at the time. But at the end of the week, I’m off to Birmingham to do one of those guest leads in Doctors that everyone else seems to have done ages ago, and I’d felt left out. So now, I’m IN. I’m on that train, up and down like a yo-yo til the middle of the following week and I can’t wait. It’s a good story-line too; I have lots to do, including knitting and driving, although I must admit I’m a little worried about doing those on camera – I always drops stitches when I change gear.
After that, I’ll be off to Glasgow and Edinburgh for possibly the last stand-up gigs of my career. I’ve had it, guys. I’ve discovered that there are only so many times you can start from scratch. I probably shouldn’t have taken nearly 2 years out, just after I’d moved to the UK, but I wanted to focus on writing and acting and finding my feet in a foreign and exotic land. (You can’t get Wotsits in Ireland.)
Having earned my living solely from the business for nearly 20 years, it’s been very difficult to go back to doing gigs for free, just so people could “get a look at me”. I’ve never been good at auditions, and that’s what these felt like. But I did them. I did them for a full 18 months on my arrival here, and I did them with as good and bouncy an attitude as I could muster. Then I decided to hone in on activities that didn’t leave me at a loss financially. Call me crazy, but spending £60 on a train fare for a gig that’ll pay £40 wasn’t keeping the dog in ear medication. And don’t forget, I’d done this all before: I’d started from scratch in Ireland, too. I’d done the door at comedy gigs, and done those silly pay-to-work plays that no-one sees, and more short films than I care to mention, or than you’d care to see.
But this summer, I missed stand-up. It’s such a brilliant skill, I will always wish I’d been better at it, and I decided to take some gigs. I did a whole rash of gigs in July – August. Once the inevitable, initial rustiness left, they were top fun. You get to meet top people, and you get to make people laugh. Brilliant.
But I can’t beg to do them. Scratch that: I won’t. I’ve never been a gag-meister: I don’t write amazing joke-jokes, so I’ve never had that burning conviction that I must get my teachings up on that pulpit: I only had a burning conviction to entertain. Look at me! Look at me! Look at me, falling over! Hurrah! If that can be achieved with the Improv (my favourite way of working, largely due to reduced backstage ego-count) or this blog or other outlet, then that’s fine. I just won’t beg 23-year-old dudes for a 5 minute spot anymore, and if that’s the deal, then I’m outta here. This is 3rd time around for me; I’m a little over the novelty of getting rejected by a toddler who can’t get a handle on what I do in the allotted time. Even I can’t; that’s the problem. Thank you stand-up, you’ve been a wonderful learning curve, but if I have to massage any more egos, I’m going to expect at least £45 an hour, and you provide your own lotion. Happy endings will of course be at my discretion and much more expensive. I’m a lady.
How wonderful then, that these potentially final gigs will be at the Stand Comedy Clubs in Glasgow and Edinburgh. These are officially the best clubs in the world, according to my official list of best clubs, in the world. The gigs are always cool, the crowd comedy-literate, the staff beyond-measure amazing. I can’t wait.
But before that, there’s a lot of knitting to be done. I’ll just get my car keys.
NYC Marathon for Alzheimer’s Society – done, but page still up here. Sponsorship very gratefully received. Thank you.
