Me and my big mouth

Oh man it's been one of those days. Early on I realised I'd put my foot in it with someone and spent the rest of the day feeling really stupid and useless. Then in the evening I was at a meeting where I spoke up about inclusion and again felt really out of step with the feeling in the room. As a result I'm now thinking of ways to avoid seeing or talking to anyone for the forseeable future. This space is - of course - exempt from that.

Talking is what I do. I always have. For 4 years I travelled around the country doing public speaking to Rotary, schools, churches and any other group that would turn up to listen to me. I've trained people and hosted meetings and conferences and I produce and present a radio show. It's fair to say that my voice gets used a lot. However, I don't always think before I pipe up my deepest thoughts and on occasion this has led to me feeling daft and seeing a people look baffled by what I've said. At one point I started to do stand up and when audiences actually laughed I was so embarrassed I'd talk over the laugh so they would miss what I was saying. I wasn't a natural.

Speaking has been my job, it's been my hobby and now it's pretty much all I do. Admittedly the sentences I use are shorter and more commands than conversational, but as the boys grow older I can see that our interactions are becoming less one-sided. I hope that at some point we can even talk to each other like human beings rather than me repeating, "get your book bag," "I said put your shoes on," "Where are your socks ?"

A fair amount of my professional life has been spent in campaigning roles. I have made the case for supporting charities, for equality and diversity and worked to improve the lives of children in institutions overseas. This has made my tone expressive and at times confrontational. The only problem is that when I make a stand I get all wobbly inside and after I've spoken I feel sick and embarrassed for speaking up. It always worries me that I've said too much or made a mistake. I undermine my own efforts by feeling bad for making a stand about something. Others will say, "you were spot on," but all I can think is, "But, did I sound like a screeching harpie ?"

Today I've been called out for expressing how I feel and I've challenged a situation that really is not right. In both cases I am left feeling sick inside. This is why I am not cut out for a career in politics. I just wouldn't be able to face the criticism (real or imagined) and I'd struggle to hold back when something really bothered me. I would appear to be trivialising serious issues when I make light of things - as is my habit. Every now and again I make a decision to pipe down and not to draw attention to myself. This is one of those times.

The smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the tiger

There are a few films that I will always watch when they're on TV - even though I've seen them many times already. The Wedding Singer is one of those rarities - a film that both me and Hubbie enjoy watching - and when I found out it was going to be a live show I wasn't sure if it would be a patch on the movie which is silly and funny and pretty much driven by star names. So it was a treat to see the show this week and find that the stage show is a great interpretation of a film I love.

Unfortunately a lack of babysitting meant we weren't able to see the show together, but I didn't let that stop me from going along. The show captures the '80s really well from costumes to music and the adverts running along the screen at the top of the stage are spot on. As an eighties kid I can vouch for the authenticity.

The leads are Jon Robyns from Avenue Q, Ray Quinn and Cassie Compton from X Factor ( I don't watch it so I had no idea who they were) and a guest appearance by Ruth Madoc as Grandma that will have you in stitches. The story is pretty much identical to the film so if you're a fan you will recognise it. There are a few small changes to accommodate the already extensive set with some super fast scene changes and clever touches like Glen's car and Robbie's revolving bed - which doesn't revolve.

Often when movies are staged as shows there is an unfair comparison between them, but this show is a fair approximation of the film that preceded it. The leads are likeable and the comic characters play well together. The only bum note for me was Linda. She is suitably evil, but the singing is so over the top that her volume pretty much drowns out any lyrics. The romance between Robbie and Julia is sweet and the wink wink nature of George's interactions with his bandmates are funny, but also a little sad.

If you want to see the show click here: The Wedding Singer

As you already know I am a huge fan of Kids Week - which takes place every August and has done since 1998. It has graduated to being a whole month hosted by the Society of London Theatre where children can go to the theatre for free or greatly reduced ticket prices. When you buy an adult ticket one child gets a free ticket and subsequent children go half price. A lot of shows take part in the scheme and some also do additional activities including puppetry workshops and author talks as well as behind the scenes tours. I promote Kids Week every year as it's such a great way to introduce children to the theatre, but also an affordable option to see some fantastic shows in the West End that you might not otherwise go to.

I've taken Brown Bear for years and he is an experienced theatre goer at the age of six. He can happily sit through a two hour show without fuss and I'm sure that taking him to see shows during Kids Week helped with this early on. One of the first shows I ever took him to see in the West End was The Tiger Who Came to Tea at the Lyric Theatre. He loved it very much and I'm delighted to be taking Blue Bear to see the same production at the Churchill next week. It's based on the much loved classic children's book about a little girl and her mother who are visited by a tiger who proceeds to eat everything in the kitchen. It is a simple story with a lovely singalong tone that captivates the attention of young children from the beginning. The tiger is brilliantly done and it's wonderful to hear the children's reactions when it appears on stage. I remember a 3 year old Brown Bear believing it was a tiger and I hope that Blue Bear will have the same willing suspension of disbelief when he sees the show too.

If you want to book tickets click here: The Tiger Who Came to Tea 

Disclosure: The lovely folks at the Churchill Theatre gave us comps for both shows in return for an honest review / preview. 

Conversations with my toddler

I don't get to talk to adults that often. When I do I have to adapt to conversation that isn't scattered with non-sequiturs or interrupted for song breaks. Having said that my son provides me with some eminently quotable moments. Here is a random sample of some of his latest conversational gems.

Butter wouldn't melt: 

Nearly 4 year old: Mummy can we go and see your friend and the two mans ?

Me: Who do you mean darling ? 

N4YO: The ones we saw yesterday.

Me: Oh you mean Aunty SJ, her husband and her cousin ?

N4YO: Yes. 

Me: What will you do if you go there ? 

N4YO: I can have cake and a cup of milk.

Me: Really ? Not watch the massive TV screen they have ? 

N4YO: erm... No. 

Comedy genius:

My brother: Does he get on better with Neo now ?

Me: Yes, they're the best of friends aren't you ?

N4YO: Yes

Me: What do you do when Neo says miaow ?

N4YO: I give him biscuits.

MB: No wonder you're such good friends. What happens if you say miaow ?

N4YO: Neo gives me biscuits

Social commentator: 

Hubbie: Oh look the Esso garage is closed
Me: I wonder if it's being closed down or refurbished
N4YO: (from the back of the car) I think it's being refurbished
Me: Really ?
Hubbie: I think it's being refurbished too
N4YO: Stop copying me Daddy !

A born negotiator:

N4YO: Mummy, can I have a snack please ?
Me: Yes of course honey. What would you like to eat, fruit or a hot cross bun ?
N4YO: Can I have sweeties ?
Me: Was that one of the choices I gave you ?
N4YO: No
Me: What do you think then ?
N4YO: Can I have sweeties later if I'm a good boy ?
Me: We'll see (mumspeak for no)
N4YO: Can I have sweeties today and be a good boy tomorrow ?
Me: No.

The apple of everyone's eye:

Me: You know that Nanny and Grandma are coming to see us tomorrow don't you ?
N4YO: Yes
Me: Do you know why ?
N4YO: Because they love me ?
Me: Obviously

Two days later

Me: You know you're going to see Nanny for the weekend don't you ?
N4YO: Will Dash and Masi be there ?
Me: Yes they will.
N4YO: Because they love me. Obviously.

When you talk to a toddler as much as I do it's nice when sometimes it's worth sharing with grown ups :)

Testing, testing, is this thing on ? 

Blogfest 2013 was like the sixties, if you can remember it you weren't really there.

When I worked in an office Monday morning was the usual, "good weekend ?" "Yeah it was ok, and you ?" "Oh not bad, painted the living room green. Went for dinner and watched Homeland." "Yeah I keep meaning to watch that too. Tea ?" "Oh go on then." I don't work in an office now, so the only way I get to tell anyone what I did at the weekend is to blog about it - well unless I bore the staff at the swimming pool in the morning or at Waitrose when I go to pick up my free tea that is. They smile politely, but they're not interested really.

So at an unearthly hour on Saturday morning I got out of bed and checked what time my friend Soraya was getting into Victoria Station to meet me and Jennifer. I tried to be as quiet as possible so the boys wouldn't be woken up by me, but when I left they were awake and wandering round too. I reminded Hubbie what was for breakfast, lunch and dinner and left the house for my day at my second Mumsnet Blogfest. With free tea from Waitrose in hand I met the others who were Blogfest virgins and we made our way to Kings Cross. I don't mean to be rude, but I was propositioned outside the station years ago and it now looks like a modern and fabulous European station so it feels like it's a million years away from its past. The venue itself is a big glass building with a terrace that overlooks some lovely houseboats - nothing like I expected for Kings Cross.

Having been to the first blogfest alone I arrived and stuffed myself with pastries. In keeping with tradition I did the same this time too. I also managed to find myself sitting next to Professor Tanya Byron last year so I raced down to the front hopefully. I didn't get a celebrity seating pal, but did have a prime seat to watch the first panel featuring a real life Mark Darcy and some cracking discussion with a live twitter feed running along the back screen. I will admit it was so exciting to see my tweet appear that I was only half listening to the panel, but I caught the jist which was Toby stop being daft and Stella the room loves you so you don't need to play to the crowd so much. It was refreshing to have a lively chat about internet trolling though as the subject is pretty dark and upsetting.

The think bombs from Prof Tanya, Dr Sue Black and Jon Ronson were fabulous with some food for thought as well as a new found hatred of algorithms (who knew I had feelings about those ?) It reminded me that years ago I had my first and only letter published in the Guardian Weekend magazine in which I mentioned Jon Ronson. I'm sure it's as memorable for him as it was for me. I attended some really interesting and engaging sessions and how delightful that a fellow blogger got a whoop from the audience while sitting on a panel of well known comedy writers (way to go Sonya !!) Of course Lionel Shriver's pink wellies have now become legendary, but AL Kennedy with her dry delivery is surely the only person who could rock that fabulous tank top and flat cap combo.

I was far too nervous last year to talk to the sponsors, but this time I decided to go up and introduce myself. This meant I was trying not to knock out others with my Hondamums vanity plate for the rest of the day - sadly it can't actually go on my car, but I've given it to my boy and he's delighted with it. When I popped over to see the nice chaps at Mark Warner Holidays I was rewarded with a cocktail (or two) and a photo of me on a Windsail (not looking especially athletic it has to be said !) It also enabled me to check how to enter the competition to win a fab holiday ! For the record my top tip for a family holiday is to make sure there is a pool as all of us love swimming and even if it's a rubbish resort we'll spend hours splashing around having fun on our hols.

[For more tips on how to entertain the kids on your travels, the kit you absolutely shouldn't leave home without and more visit the Mark Warner blog www.markwarner.co.uk/blog]

The afternoon session has been written about so much that I'm not going to add anything to the debate by going over it here. Personally I wasn't offended by the panel discussing whether a Mummy blogger can be a feminist. I didn't walk out, find myself shaking with anger, feel the need to shout from the balcony or quote Joss Whedon. Maybe that was the numbing effect of the alcohol or maybe it was the taking down of the live twitter feed during the more heated part of the debate as I sent my pithy contribution to the discussion by tweet. Whatever the case Jo Brand brought the day to a fine end and my friend Soraya prodding me to go and talk to her in the bar afterwards was a stroke of genius. Just before leaving we went into the photo booth run by Talk Talk and decided to pose for our quartet of photos as the Village People - no, please don't ask !

It feels like such a lot to take in and yet the time flies past. Meeting bloggers I feel I know intimately from reading their posts and following them on Twitter was a bit weird, but tapping badges so that we could exchange contact details meant I didn't have to panic about not being able to keep in touch with anyone. I'm reinvigorated and revitalised by it all (although I did spend most of Sunday in a daze and lolling around the house like a student on reading week) and raring to build on my new links and knowledge.

A special thank you to Jennifer and Soraya for hanging out with me and keeping me company on the journey there and back. Please pop over to visit their blogs and say "Hi" from me.

It's not real life - it's just TV

I often complain that we don't get any decent telly any more, just a lot of reality telly. Another of my bugbears is misery TV and I don't watch soaps for that reason. If I want to watch families yelling at one another I'll visit mine and not do it in my precious leisure time. There is an element of TV being there to inform and educate, but my favourite shows tend to be purely entertainment, which I almost feel I have to apologise for.  More often than not I'll watch Blackadder yet again (which is almost like learning history isn't it ?) and recently Masterchef or the newly returned Great British Bake Off (come on that's just Home Ec) or if I'm being really swotty a quiz so I have to use my brain a little bit. It made me wonder whether TV was always about real life or if this obsession with 'constructed reality' is all new.

I'm pretty sure that very few bus companies are like seventies sitcom On the Buses. For a start they don't have nearly as many staff as that any more, the cultural mix is far more diverse and the bus garage in South Croydon certainly doesn't have a canteen where they all sit around between shifts - hence the roaring trade in transport caffs along the Brighton Road. If the drivers were to walk out in protest at women driving buses they'd get nowhere these days as women drivers are not controversial any more. I do remember when I was at school and Sheila was the well known driver of the E2 bus who would get out of her cab to help pensioners on and would tell the school kids to wait and take their turn. She won bus driver of the year many times and was brilliant !!

Despite what the papers and every Prisons Minister and Justice Secretary (how Orwellian is that ?) think I know for a fact that prisons aren't like Porridge. Prison officers who've been in the job a long time insist it used to be like that and long serving prisoners do hark back to the days of it being like a gentleman's club, but I suspect closing the 'staff clubs' where officers could get 'cold refreshments' during breaks is only a good thing. Norman Stanley Fletcher and his like do exist, but the scams are far less jolly than the ones depicted going on at Slade Prison. In reality we have an interesting TV crossover where the Muppets help children who have parents inside prison to deal with this very difficult issue in their young lives.

Citizen Khan is no more an accurate reflection of 'multicultural Britain' than Love They Neighbour was back in the seventies. It's just the language was less censored back then and now the white character does not get an equal number of digs as the Asian one. It was a stipulation made by Rudolph Walker when he took the part of the black neighbour that for every racist epithet he should get an equal number of them back at his white neighbour as recourse. I think that was what passed for equality back in the seventies.

And despite what every Health  minister in the last 15 years believes, NHS hospitals are not like Green Wing (and then Scrubs). I'm sure they want to believe that doctors have time for japes and hilarity and that the admin staff spend all day photocopying their body parts rather than actual work. If you think it's a bit far-fetched that actual policy on health might be based on misconceptions from watching a comedy series then try and recall the last time you saw a minister or indeed any public figure sitting in A&E at 3 in the morning with a child with a viral infection. No, it's ok I'll wait...

My personal favourite is a recent addition to the thinly disguised propaganda school of TV making and is the vintage and soft focus Call The Midwife. An everyday depiction of childbirth in the East End of London with a side helping of 'why don't women give birth at home anymore ?" I'm pretty sure that it was commissioned as a lovely bit of Sunday evening nostalgia and costume drama to keep families entertained - I mean only a hard heart wouldn't be reduced to tears by the cute ickle babies wouldn't it ? In addition it's a tale of women giving birth in adversity and without horrid doctors interfering that elevates midwives to mythical status. I honestly do think midwives can be marvellous and that childbirth should be treated as a normal thing and not medicalised as a matter of course. I'm also fascinated to see if requests for and actual home births increase as a result of the show.

Of course all of this is moot when you have a toddler as the TV is on Cbeebies the majority of the time he is awake. At least I can say that is educational without fear of contradiction :o)

Tell me what happened and you get Brady face !!

There's an episode of american sitcom How I Met Your Mother where they are trying to avoid seeing the result of the superbowl so they can watch it on a recording. It's a modern take on a Likely Lads episode where they don't want to hear the score of the match they are going to watch on repeat later. The humour is in how they have to blindfold themselves and cover their ears while in company and even turn away from seeing any tv screens to ensure they don't spoil the surprise.

On a Wednesday when occasionally me and Hubbie have been out for the evening I can relate to both of these scenarios as we try and avoid all human contact and social media so that when we get home to watch the Apprentice we won't already know who was fired. It is a minefield of course as an inadvertent click of TV channel or sideways glance at the BBC news website could mean it's game over.

We take the suspense of it all very seriously so the fact that we live in a digital age where there are so many potential spoilers causes a frisson that possibly exceeds watching the show itself.

Now I can't sit here nattering I have a recording of the Apprentice to watch. Ooh look they're filming at a venue we looked at for out wedding reception !!

Whatever you do don't tell me what happens or guess what ?

I'd still hide the knives though...

Do you remember that female character on the Fast Show who was a high flying, achieving independent woman until a man was in the room then she'd be reduced to gibbering in baby talk and conceding to the man's assumed superiority ? Arabella Weir created a comic character that we found funny because we knew her, we recognised her. Dammit at times we even were her.

I'd forgotten about her until today when I was in a room where there were 7 women (2 of them trainers) and one man for the second week of an anger management course I'm taking. Each of us took it in turns to answer questions, make contributions or to tell anecdotes, but I realised something glaringly obvious. Whenever the man spoke a lot of the women would laugh extra loud at jokes that I've heard other people tell, or praise an achievement extra highly, "oh that's a great idea."

Now I've seen this kind of behaviour my whole life and it still drives me crazy. The over-appreciation of someone purely because they're a man or because they're a blonde or something. It used to make me resentful and angry. Now, I just feel very sad that women feel the need to laugh a bit too loud because there's a man in the room. Or men feel the need to show off more than usual because there's a blonde woman in the room.

The good thing is I don't feel homicidal when it happens. It still makes me feel sad, but I'm now observing the behaviour and commenting on it instead of getting enraged by it.

Maybe I'm making progress on the course already ?

You better watch out … real bad...

I think I've scored a small victory today and I have Russell Brand to thank for it.

You see a few years ago after a particularly unpleasant evening at Jongleurs Hubbie decided that he didn't like stand-up comedy and wasn't going to go to gigs any more. All thanks to an idiotic Aussie comedian who thinks he's being 'controversial' when he's actually just being an arse. I've spent the ensuing years trying to rehabilitate the reputation of live comedy with small steps. 

Firstly I can thank Daniel Kitson - we went to see him in Brighton then another time in London and Hubbie admitted that he liked him. The process of bringing him back to comedy had begun.

Then we had a set back in the unlikely form of Eddie Izzard. I'd made a really big deal about going to see him live as I've seen almost every tour he's done and met my closest friend at an Izzard gig many moons ago. Unfortunately the day before we went to see Eddie at Wembley the DVD of that very show had been released. I was so livid I stood outside looking for touts to buy the tickets so we could then go out for a meal instead. 

Time passed and I went to watch comedy with other friends who like Phil Nicol and Doc Brown. Then Adam Hills' show The Last Leg became a fixture in our house during the Paralympics and we cried laughing watching his stand up show on TV. I tentatively asked Hubbie if he'd like to see Adam live in September and he said yes. Hoorah !! 

Then a few weeks ago Hubbie bought us tickets to see Mark Thomas live. I'll say that again, HE bought the tickets voluntarily. It was a local gig trying out new material and we had a great evening together. Quite a safe option though as we have seen Mark Thomas before and we know we like his stuff. 

Which brings us to today. I saw a tweet from Russell Brand that referred to his live gigs on the Messiah Complex tour. There were tickets available so I asked my pal first and she's not a fan of Brand so I asked Hubbie if he wanted to go, fully expecting a no. A few minutes later he replied with a reference from Ponderland (a clip show Russell used to do). Then just to be sure I asked again and he said "yes that sounds nice." 

So the rehabilitation is complete. We can, once again, go to stand-up comedy gigs together. 

I do believe that the Messiah has healed :o) 

Rebel rebel

Last night me and Hubbie went to a work in progress gig by Mark Thomas called "100 minor acts of dissent." The last time we saw him was at the Tricycle Theatre in North London here he was launching his manifesto shows. There was a very serious policy in terms of holding the Mayor of London to account for failing in his promise to fund rape crisis centres in the city, but the one I recall most was the one to standardise the colours of crisp packets so that Walkers can't just randomly decide that salt and vinegar is green when - as everyone knows - it's blue. The politicians present were all in favour of this.

Over the years I've been influenced by Mark Thomas's work as I've boycotted products from certain companies and taken a stance on issues he has highlighted. In terms of ideas I like his approach that asks the audience to participate and get involved. Now, I'm not about to walk the barrier that separates Israel and Palestine, but I am very much on board with his new project.

The idea is that we do small things to show we're not in support of how things are. So when bankers or tax avoiders say they're going to leave the country if they're called to account we offer to drive them to the airport. You can go online and sign up to be a designated driver - seeing as we live only half an hour from Gatwick airport I feel it would be remiss of me not to sign up to do this.

One of my favourite ideas is to sticker bomb books in the big bookshops using these specially printed stickers (made to look like the originals). The idea is to do it surreptitiously and to take a photo that is shared to show it's been done.

Another idea I loved was to heckle books by including little pieces of paper that spoil the ending for you in books that aren't worth the effort of reading. I won't tell you too much as he tells it so much better in the show.

In the past Thomas has confronted Nestle and Coca Cola for their less than ethical stance on working practices. Now he's gone a step further and taking a policy from the manifesto shows has produced the opposite of the fairtrade logo in the form of the 'bastard trade' logo for firms that are the antithesis of fairness. The idea is you pop these stickers on items and take a pic to add to the others that will form this year long project. Of course it's not all stickers and petty vandalism. It's also about being part of a protest movement, but one that middle-aged people can feel good about.

I managed to interview Mark for my radio show and was delighted to be able to follow up on some of the things he talked about - from taking his teenage son to watch the Fall to regularly being mistaken for Mark Steel (who I'll be interviewing early next week).

The main purpose of this post though is to reiterate the message that a lot of small actions can have a big effect. It won't necessarily change the world, but it might just reawaken the rebellious teenage spirit that you thought was long lost with that pair of Dr Martens that are gathering dust because you can't wear them to an office job and be taken seriously.

I'm also a sucker for small badges with slogans on them - what can I tell you ?

To find out more about this go to: http://www.markthomasinfo.co.uk/

Two things ye must know about the wise woman: she is wise and she is a woman.

I went to a comedy gig last night with my lovely friend SJ as part of the Udderbelly which is housed in an upside down purple cow on the Southbank. Years ago we used to go to comedy almost every week and I even did one of the early stand up courses which have spawned so many of the current comedians. Last night we went to watch a comic called Phil Nichol who we've followed over the years and who is very talented and deserves to be much more famous than he is. His rendition of Gay Eskimo from his time with Corky and the Juice Pigs is a work of genius and I never tire of hearing it even after all these years. Of course with so many comedians out there not all make it to the dizzy heights of fame and some even fall from a once hallowed position (I refer you to my previous post about Rob Newman). 

When I got home I looked at which other acts are performing at the Udderbelly and saw a show called "Brendon Burns hasn't heard of you either". Now you may have heard of him, as a few years back he won an award at the Edinburgh comedy festival with his shouty, offensive style - his website refers to him as 'controversial'. I have heard of him and have to admit to some schadenfreude that this show title suggests his career has taken a somewhat downward trajectory. We have history you see. 

Some years ago he was performing at Jongleurs and as I had drawn the short straw I was seated right next to the stage. He spent a lot of his set yelling loudly into a microphone about how a girlfriend had left him after sleeping with someone else - I can't imagine why. I took issue with this as he chose to aim his rants right into my ears in which I was wearing hearing aids as I had a condition called hyperacusis. It was unpleasant and actually painful, but of course you can't argue with a stand up as that's just asking for trouble, so I just decided to hate him forever instead. Oh, and to curse him. 

SJ is the Queen of Curses - she will place a curse on someone who has done her wrong and woe betide them if she does. You see it is a slow burn curse, but the effects can be devastating. At school she cursed a particularly vindictive headmistress who had given her a really poor UCAS reference. It took more than a decade to work, but sure enough this woman's life fell apart spectacularly and she went quite mad. As SJ said (without any malice) "It takes time, but if I curse someone it works."

It occurs to me now that I may have developed this same skill. 

You see, the irony is that this man who loved to rant into a woman's hearing aids now has a diagnosis of hearing loss. It's the basis of his new show, hence the clumsy title. Of course I didn't wish on him to lose his hearing, but how poetic that he should considering what he did that irked me. I don't know if he wears hearing aids. I'm not in the slightest bit interested really. 

All I'm saying is be careful.

I have powers ! 

See that bloke doing really old jokes ? That's you that is.

This time last week I was in Leicester Square watching Rob Newman try out his new show in advance of a tour and a new book. You may remember him from The Mary Whitehouse Experience or the "comedy is the new rock and roll" gig he did at Wembley Arena with David Baddiel before they famously split their highly successful partnership. Baddiel went on to present football shows, write a hit football song and mediocre novels.

Newman went on to write even worse novels, a lot of very worthy gigs (anti-sweatshops, eco causes, etc.) and all the while I was supporting his fading star while recalling his past glories. The unfortunate thing I found last Monday was that he seems to be doing the same. We had heard the majority of his jokes before and while the political haranguing and history lessons may be new material the impression of Jarvis (sleazy character from way back when) the neighbours with sinister sounding voices and the whole schtick that held the serious stuff together was maddeningly familiar. One member of the audience was clearly so put out about this that he kept stealing a march on the punchlines which is unkind, but less rude than the woman who walked out saying she was going to kill herself instead of still watching.

Most of the audience had heard all this before - you would hardly pay to see a once well known comic doing try out material in the West End on a Monday night unless you were a fan of his would you ?  So it was merely politeness that we laughed at jokes we'd heard many years ago and maybe a misplaced loyalty to him as we guess he probably needs the money. However, loyalty is one thing, blind faith or fandom is entirely another.

Hubbie has a few pretty strong convictions, the number one of these is "never meet your heroes." I first realised this as we were queuing outside the Hammersmith Palais to watch The Fall play the last ever gig there before the venue was redeveloped.  As we waited outside a shambling man in a leather blazer walked between us in the queue and I spotted that it was Mark E Smith - Hubbie's musical hero. I asked him if he wanted to speak to or acknowledge him and Hubbie shared his number one mantra with me. Bearing in mind how unpredictable the Mr Smith can be it is no bad thing to leave him be as you have no idea what state he will be in on any given day. On that day he performed pretty well, but was mistaken by  security for a drunk audience member and almost didn't make it back onto stage after a short break. On other occasions he has disappeared during a gig and not reappeared at all, so that wasn't so bad on balance.

Of course if I was to meet an actual hero of mine like Maya Angelou I'd be completely tongue tied and incapable of speech. That's how it goes in real life. I was once asked by Shabana Azmi if I could lend her £5 to pay for a taxi as I waited outside the QE2 centre to go into a conference at which she was speaking. I did that thing where you move your mouth, but words don't come out and took out a fiver from my purse to give her. This does beg the question what journey in Westminster costs £5 that it wouldn't make more sense to actually walk ? Also, do I have a face that looks like it would proffer a fiver to a stranger (albeit a movie actress and now campaigner for women) or did she choose the most obvious person who'd help her ie. an asian woman ? No matter, I was happy to help her as I knew my Mum would be chuffed when I told her about it. An hour later when she sought me out to return the money I was equally eloquent, having spent the whole intervening period thinking "well there's a fiver I'm never going to see again." I was touched that she remembered me and that she made a point of giving the money back - it made me feel very warm towards her. So when I retell the story now it's with a little embellishment and we are now the best of mates. It's not like anyone will check is it ?

Unless you are reading this Ms Azmi, in which case thank you :o)