Didacts on Drudgery and the Demurrage,

My views on stand-up comedy have changed through the years. Coincidentally, the moral of one of the shows I saw this year was exactly what I have been trying to say – the funniest things are those which happen spontaneously. The best comedy doesn’t happen in pre-ordained timeslots. Contrary to my beliefs, I attended six shows at this years Embra Fringe. I probably only meant to see two shows but that is how life is, I fall into things.

One of those moments of comic gold occurred on the train on the way to my first show. A boy, probably 6 year old, asks his mother, ‘Why is the Forth Bridge so high?’ He pauses, ‘Because if it was lower and closer to the water, it wouldn’t be so dangerous, people wouldn’t die if they fall off.’ His mother panics. The family are clearly middle class and that added to the moment. She begins, and ends with the son being sent off to university to study a Masters course in engineering, ‘They have special engineers who calculate how many cars cross every day and how heavy those cars are. They then decide how big the bridge has to be and then they make up special drawings.’ She goes on, ‘but the bridge isn’t dangerous, not unless there is an earthquake. The engineers will have spoken with other scientists to decide if the bridge is near any fault line. Oh, look there is where they play rugby.’

I went to Embra to see John Hegley, I’ve seen him for a number of years running now, it’s sort of a pilgrimmage. The show is life-enhancing. The show opens with the mystery over the left rucksack and this becomes a running joke throughout the show; at first, John suggests an evacuation. The first song is about John’s glasses, after which, he asks the glasses wearers to wave their spectacles in the air, before the line, ‘I’m a bit disappointed with that, I didn’t see it go as well as I’d hoped.’ It’s obvious but amusing. The show contained all the usual stuff: old favourites (Luton Bungalow, It’s the Wheel That Squeaks That Gets the Oil, Poem de terre, etc, some had new verses) and stuff that was new to me. The show is warm and full of charm, there’s nothing to dislike. The show ended with the glasses wearers being invited onto stage to dance to the Ash hit, Burn Baby Burn.

The rest of the day went well, I found a copy of The Skinny, I bought a pair of trousers (they were unexpectedly reduced at the checkout), football turned out good. The low point of my day was being waved at by someone who had previously mistreated me; time heals wounds and for us, I’d say we are only at the point of neutrality; nowhere near friendly waving.

I visited Embra as part of a party of five to see Adam Hills and Alun Cochrane. Travelling was stressful; there’s always someone who isn’t willing to shoulder responsibility or who thinks that time will stand still on his count. Arriving by train, we traipsed up The Mound to see Hills at The Assembly. The show was completely unscripted and was marked by a conversation with a woman who arrived late, a phonecall to her husband, the purchase of £40 of chocolate and a self-appraisal for a reviewer. The final story is about pizza, this triggers a torrid interval between shows.

One of our party decided that we needed pizza, as this was the only idea suggested, I thought this would be our destiny, as much as pizza can ever be destiny, and we marched towards a Pizza Hut. As it turned out, only one person wanted pizza, we discovered this outside Pizza Hut. So three of the party were embroiled in some sort of feud over pizza, I was angered by one member’s attitude towards appearances and the need to continually comment. Appearances mean little to me and, in the city, where everyone is different, it grew tiresome to the point of breaking with my demeanour to make my point. Tensions were high and only one person managed to stay free from the uproar. Anyway, they decided upon chips from a restaurant that wasn’t suitable, I wandered off to listen to Polish Opera in St. Andrew Square with a hot chocolcate. A jet fighter roared past just prior to the performance. The opera singer was okay, it was the right place for me to be at that moment. I would’ve wanted to hear some violins before I had to rejoin the squabblefest.

Alun Cochrane was appearing at The Stand comedy club. The theme of the show was that chance moments in everyday life are more funny than jokes. I agree, I have never found jokes funny. The idea was born out of the moment a heckler in Sheffield shouted, ‘Tell us a joke.’ Alun admitted that he could never please this man because they both saw comedy differently. I enjoyed this show, it was wistful comedy. It was a discussion. Alun took an idea, or a belief, and talked to us about it, and I agreed, I knew that ships had to pass under those bridges and once pointed out, that child would have agreed too.

The next day, and to Embra again, to Bannermans, we saw Andrew Collins and his show Secret Dancing. Andrew Collins is a star of the modern day media, many people don’t know Andrew but he has contributed to such a variety of pursuits, it’s hard not to admire his relationship with the public. Secret Dancing is testimony to his handle on modern life and culture. It’s unsurprising, given that Andrew is a stalwart of BBC 6music, that music plays a key role in the show. We are taught how to dance to music on our ipods without anyone knowing. Highlights include investigating Reigate, Andrew’s relationship with birds, imagining his obituary and his feelings on Master Chef. I dismounted the table, feeling guilty that others had stood and left, throwing money in the bucket.

Staying in Bannermans, we stayed to watch Audi, Vide, Tace, a show by Charlotte Young. Using audio-visual aids, Charlotte tells the story of her involvement with an underworld agency and how she discovered many top secret truths. The show is amusing enough, it has some clever ideas, some wrong ideas and is, at times, let down by the poor quality of sound playback. As we watch, one thing strikes me: my associate and I, sat side-by-side, have our two idols ridiculed in consecutive sketches. We would never have predicted it.

We ventured out into the city, nearly argued over lunch, bought some lunch and then headed towards another show. Our choice was very much decided upon by the time available, I was alarmed when I heard Sean Lock discuss the title of the show we were about to see, Contains Mild Peril. Adam Mitchell and Phil O’Shea are the stars of this show. I should have been further alarmed when we had to march to obscure venue down at the Grassmarket, the Dragonfly cocktail bar. I think my words on leaving the show were, ‘That was an ordeal.’ Actually, I think the show would have been fine in front of a bigger audience, on a stage. Adam and Phil did seem to be aiming for a Morecambe and Wise/Les Dawson effect, the running joke was that they were so bad that they were funny. In front of nine people, in a lounge, they struggled miserably. I admire them for carrying on; cancelling the performance must have crossed their mind. I think they will go on to break show business.

The show ends and we head towards the train station. The Fringe was over for me. I will retire to normal life and waiting for those moments, those little moments of comic genius. If I become bored waiting for them, I’ll create them myself.

A man walks into a barrrr...

Hermetic Warriors in the Country,

After the success of last year’s Perseids viewing expedition, we bounced back prepared – with jackets – but we failed to see enough.

The evening began with a banana loaf and tea, last year, we had juice. The banana loaf was courtesy of a James Martin recipe, I was most ungracious in my acceptance of a slice. I described it as having the texture of a pencil eraser and I proceeded to let the others in the room poke at it. I also questioned the tea, it tasted of oranges. The refreshments were accompanied by Law & Order. It was the one where the woman had slapped her baby and had to face a dilemma: end its suffering by switching off the life support machine and face a murder charge or keep it suffering and be convicted of child abuse. I marginally preferred Jurassic Park (last year's pre-expedition show), at least, there’s no ambiguity where tyrannosaurus rex is involved.

We headed out to our lookout point in a layby of a darkened road. Like Sean had said, the clouds were rolling in. The clouds not only obscured the sky but prevented the level of darkness needed by reflecting errant light from the surroundings. We saw around 15 meteors; given the level of cloud, they had to be really bright in order to be seen.

My performance at the meteor shower wasn’t exactly laudable. I became distracted by a light. The light was brighter than all the other stars; it didn’t seem like a satellite nor a aeroplane waiting to land. It seemed to move closer and slightly waver in its course. I decided the best action to take would be to drive closer and try to end up underneath it. Betty and I drove on but failed to come to a conclusion. We pulled over to see a few more meteors before heading back to civilisation.

Upon arriving back, I caught a spider and put it outdoors.

Vituperators of Nocturnal Celerity,

This week has been one of mere existence. I did my first ever night shift. I had worked late in the yooni labs on several occasions but it doesn’t compare to a week of night shifts.

The week begins on Monday morning and I find myself at a loss. With the first shift some 13 hours ahead of me, I don’t know what to do. I hadn’t thought about what to do. I now know that it’s a weekend day. Of course, I had to sleep a little. I cycle to work in the rain; I take the hazardous route as I know that neds aren’t waterproof. I am slightly early and I chase my colleague off to his bed. It’s just me and the book. Being on my own, the book is effectively my boss. There’s no one to approve my work, and being a rookie, I found this strange. I know what is right and what is wrong but I have no sense of what is too much. I work through and only stop to have breakfast near the end. I know am making tiny errors and I feel myself slowing and I wonder.

I go home and sleep three hours before my neighbour decides his lawn is out of control. I decide to prepare for winter and buy bicycle lights. I reserve them online to ‘save’ £30. How many terrapins can I buy with that sum? The front light shines 15 lux bright and I decide to learn about the units light is measured in using Wikipeedja. I find this measurement and application ambiguous; perhaps I have to consider the area of the beam produced. I think I’d feel safer with 50 lux – a livingroom on two wheels. I go to work and find the work I didn’t complete the night before still there, two shifts later. I carry out work on five projects and I wonder.

I sleep six hours and am pleased. I wake and decide that today I will fit the bicycle lights. I read before going to work.

I sleep six hours and then have toast. I take books to the charity shop for the first time. It proves to be a painless experience. I wander past Ottakars and see an attractive book as part of a 3 for 2 deal. I am pleased to find a second book, one I have been meaning to buy for ages as part of the deal. I spend 45 minutes looking for a third. I return home and offend. I go to work. I am followed by a gang of uncouth youths on their bikes, thankfully they give up and I am no longer Morrissey. I have nothing to do for an entire shift, I am merely a nightwatchman.

I sleep for seven hours and have yet more toast. It’s three o’clock on Friday and I still have an entire shift to go. The lag and the disorientation are unbearable. I play football but in the evening but I feel as if I am carrying an extra weight. I go to work and surprise my superiors with my efficiency. It would be Monday before I am told this. I finish up as the weekend overtime workers filter in but I don’t know that the worst part of nightshift is yet to come – the readjustment to normality.

It’s Saturday night and I am ready to go to work, instead I have to go to sleep, such is the convention amongst our society. I fall asleep at 0400hrs. I wake at 0900hrs to play football and I feel the worst I ever have.