Richard Herring, Alive

Yesterday evening, not quite as hot as recent evenings, we went to Battersea Arts Centre to see Richard Herring perform his Edinburgh warm-up/try-out show 'We're All Going To Die'.

We sat right at the front. If you've ever been on a manual-handling course you'll know the potential danger of doing this: "Can we have a volunteer from the audience to show us how not to lift this sack of loam..." What if this is an interactive show? Does Richard do Hypnotism? What if he makes fun of my lazy eye? Who says I've got a lazy eye? You wanna start something? Yeah, you're all talk. Anyway, we sat, as I say, RIGHT at the front.

The Props

The stage consisted of a small round table with a jug of water, a plastic beaker and Richard's notes. If we'd had that spy ability to read upside-down and a bit sideways we could have sneaked a preview.

During the show, Richard took two sips of water. 

Richard didn't sweat profusely. This makes him tons better than Lee Evans. I mean, eeearghhh right? When my mum went to see David Essex at Southend's Cliffs Pavillion, she was impressed that David didn't swear or sweat once. Time's have changed; Richard used cuss words and my mum's no longer with us for a start. 

We went all the way to Battersea Arts Centre and all we got were lolz and this lousy picture.

We were worried Richard might trip over the wire from the microphone.

I won't spoil the show by remembering all the jokes and documenting them here. It must be rubbish having to make notes during an entertainment, or having to take photos - surely you can't enjoy the show completely. I take photos all the time but even with the flash turned off, Richard would have noticed the idiot 3 feet in front of him snapping away. I took some once it was obvious the show was over but why? I knew I'd been there. Richard can get a photographer to take his picture anytime. Also, that was the time to join in the applause. 

Richard's costume for the show: Faded, red 'Superdry' T-shirt, well-worn jeans with a biro in the right-hand pocket [perhaps a tribute to Harry Hill?] and casual turn-ups, complemented by a pair of proper spangley trainers - the sort that suggest serious jogging is at least a possibility. Richard has lovely hair.

See Richard Herring if you can.

www.richardherring.com

@Herring1967

Gentlemen & Players

To walk or not to walk? That was the question yesterday. Stuart Broad hit a cricket ball and the Australian captain caught it - even in the garden, aged 7, that is out. It's in the laws of the game [yes LAWS, not rules] behind the biggest of them all: that the players should always uphold the spirit of the game. In club cricket you often get umpires who are on the same side as the batsman, ex-players who still love to be involved. Umpiring or scoring are chores to younger members and there ARE a lot of laws to remember, as well as being able to count up to six. As a result of this, you can get 'howlers'.

A 'howler' is a rank bad decision e.g. an l.b.w. given out when the batsman has clearly hit the ball, or given out caught when he clearly hasn't. I played in a match [my last in fact] when an opposition batsman was caught behind the wicket off a thick edge which everybody heard - the umpire was the batsman's father, he went on to score the winning runs. I also played in league matches where the opposition insisted on their umpires officiating the whole match - they were very generous with l.b.w. decisions, sometimes raising the finger-of-doom before the appeal was made.

Henry Blofeld, the Test Match Special commentator, epitomises the era of the game when if a player nicked one and was caught, he walked off the pitch without forcing the umpire to make a decision. After yesterday's incident he was asked if he always walked and recalled the only time he didn't. The umpire gave young Henry out and approached him at an interval, "Blowers, don't ever do that to me again!"

Ironically it was the australians who invented NOT walking - ex England captain Michael Atherton was caught behind in Australia and didn't walk, one of the Aussies asked him why not, "When in Rome, dear boy, when in Rome..." - but this doesn't excuse what happened yesterday. In the split second after hitting the ball, Stuart Broad would have thought "I'm out." For those who've never played, that's a sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach; at sunday club level it means your day's fun is over and unless you bowl you're sentenced to hours of self-recrimination and FIELDING [urgh]. At Test level it means the old enemy have carte blanche to send you on your way with some choice words about your manhood, parenthood etc. Broad decided not to walk. Even if he'd been given out he is notorious for asking for decisions against him to be referred to the third umpire - a man sat in front of a tv, fed various views of each incident to help his on-field colleagues. It might have been a no-ball, but this is the only thing that could have saved him. Unfortunately for Australia, they had used their two chances to 'go upstairs', otherwise Broad would have been despatched eventually.

Broad didn't break any rules, but he broke the first law of cricket; it's understandable WHY he did and I think we should be reluctant to judge him too harshly. England can point to two 'howlers' from the first innings; Jonathan Trott was wrongly given out l.b.w. and young australian Ashton Agar was stumped on 6, survived a review and went on to make a game-changing 98. This is irrelevant, it would have sent a message to young players and sunday players up & down the country to respect the umpire and respect the spirit of the game - I wish he had walked.

P.S.
At lunchtime yesterday, in the Test Match Special commentary box, the cricket-loving band The Duckworth Lewis Method [named after an equation used to estimate a one-day innings total when rain-affected] played two songs - 'Gentlemen & Players' and 'It's Just Not Cricket' - the second of which had free-form vocal help from Henry Blofeld himself.

All-Day Drinking: A Study

Beer [exterior]

Ahhh hello, and yes, you are my best friends and I love you all. I've had a drink you see, it has an effect: I asked my mate, "when's the best time of day for drinking?" and he said, "Whaa? ALL the bloody time! LAGER LAGER LAGER!" *shouting* "LAGER LAGER LAGER!" AND SO IT WENT ON sorry, and so it went on. But what if you like a drink but you're on a budget? No-one, and I mean no-one [or I wouldn't have said it] can afford to go to a pub these days - those titweazels on 'Made In Chelsea' don't count, they are made of a chipboard/asbestos/black pudding yeast-like paste that only vaguely resembles people and their drinks are funded by BAFTA anyway. Perhaps you only have an hour a day or an hour a week when you can indulge; perhaps you are holding down a job. Imagine that. Some drink to forget, some drink to remember, if only the two could meet, they might stop drinking and suddenly know EVERYTHING and take 'Mastermind' to the cleaners, or forget the lot and become chefs. Who knows. No honestly, if you know tell the rest of us and give us your name - perhaps the whole question of who 'they' are can be answered once and for all.

It seems that there are some specific windows of drinking opportunity:

1] As soon as you wake up: You are probably an alcoholic, or should perhaps consider it. The 'Hair Of The Dog' my arse.

2] Breakfast Time: I've seen pictures on Facebook of a friend of mine with a plate of home-made chocolate eclairs with a 'Grolsch' bottle opened and "the breakfast of champions" beside it. Looks very tempting - I can't eat savoury things WHILE drinking beer, but fruit and sweet things go down a treat. But breakfast time? Aren't you just a couple of bad bets away from 1]?

3] Lunchtime: Ahh the memories. Before the recession, no not this one, the one before that, I had a job that involved pub lunches and pub meetings. At it's zenith, we would wish each other good morning, go through the 'minutes' of the previous day and while one of us stayed behind to take calls [there was a rota] the rest would get the tables set up outside The Marquis. Or there was the job in the big publishing company where EVERYBODY'S birthday was indicated on a calendar and because there were six floors full of folks, hardly a day went by without the need to celebrate Ken-in-accounts's big bash, although we wouldn't know Ken if he jumped out of our glasses. If the boss asked where we'd been on Beaugolais Nouveau day, we'd say the Arsenal double-winning squad of '71 had come in and you know how Frank McLintock likes a drop....
Trouble is, if you drink at lunchtime it knocks you out for the rest of the day. Unless you carry on drinking.

4] Instead of lunch: See 1]

5] While making dinner: This is my favourite, cook something that takes an hour and you've time for that two-drink buzz and appetite build-up. As soon as the savoury stuff is ready to eat, all thoughts of beer are quashed. If you like the vin de tables, there is of course the danger of 'Floyding' it.

6] Instead of dinner: See 1]

7] Evening time/ while tweeting/ while watching 'Made In Chelsea': Makes you sleepy/ sloppy/ angry in variable measures. Measures! Ahh sodoffyabastid.

Beer [interior]

please read responsibly

'This House' A Late Review

Bong.

Hello; I'm not a theatre critic [hooray] but we went to the theatre last night and there were one or two talking points. We booked on the day and had a choice of returns at £48 or standing at £5 plus 5% charity donation. The show was 'This House' - a satirical, a-little-bit-musical look at the Labour government from 1974 until HER coming to power in '79.

Standing at the theatre reminded me of Upton Park pre-Heysel, perhaps a midweek Milk Cup tie against Leicester City. You have a restricted view but you can move about to get a better angle - important with this production, where every inch of the auditorium [if that's what we can call it.. 37% "yes", 21% "no", 16% "none of the above", 16% "none of the below". So we're running with it...] is used. There are audience members on the stage in two balconies and two 'sides of The House' which are swiveled by cast members to be opposing or as-one depending on the scene. We assume you pay extra-through-the-nose to be up there or there's a ballot with a two-thirds majority deciding whether a bill on further audience members taking part can be ratified in a special motions billWHATEVER THEY'RE ON STAGE SO DEAL WITH IT. As the drama unfurls [98% "yes" on that one *thumbs*] some of the audience joined in, waving imaginary ballot papers, jeering or adding "aye"s to the left and "no"s to the right. This is perhaps the problem with standing: you tend to notice the 'business' more, free as you are to look 90º to the left or right of the speaker without disconcerting your next-seat neighbour. This could also explain why I'm not a theatre critic, because I want to look at that stuff and if I get a gist of the plot too then tiddley pom.

Standing etiquette: You can't pay £5 with a 5% donation to charity to watch a show and have a better seat than those who've weighed-out. Don't sit on the stairs - it's against health & safety and the usher will be angry with you if you do. No ushers were present inside, but rules are rules. Don't lean on the back of the last row of seats; do you like people looking over your shoulder while you're DMing your cousin Marge? No you don't. And people can sense when someone is *just there* behind them, especially if you keep jogging on the spot and moving your plastic bag six inches either way every time the action moves to the other side of the stage. This sixth sense for someone being *just there* is actually made up of the other five senses; so think about that too.

The show was a few minutes old, there was a short opening dance sequence which was worrying, then a late-comer arrived. She mimed "fuck it, I'm late" doing a little stampy dance and shaking her hands to try to get more attention. She then paced about in a circle, desperately hoping someone would notice. We did because we were next to her. She then sat on the stairs. When we told her not to, she did the stampy dance hand shaking thing again and settled down to look at her mobile for the rest of Act1. She didn't return for Act2. Neither did [*spoiler klaxon*] Phil Daniels.

I'm almost forgetting the show: Phil Daniels plays Labour Whip Bob Melish and he's very good indeed; starts the show shouting a bit too loud but settles down to a more normal level quickly enough. The Conservatives are played by posher actors or good actors making it look like they're posher; whichever it is, it works brilliantly - there are lots of cast members, announced every time by The Speaker and if you imagine 'Yes Minister', 'The Thin [rather than Thick] Of It' and a Newsnight tribute to the Labour government from 1974-79 narrated by Jeremy Vine [not Paxman] you've got a fair idea what you're in for. Talking of 'The Thick Of It', Vincent Frankin plays Steve Pemberton playing Michael Cocks, another Labour Whip. I knew Franklin was in it but couldn't work out where because Steve Pemberton seemed to be running about the stage instead although he's not in it.

Back to the initially worrying music: "No! It's not a musical FFS?" Thank heavens no, but it contains some music. A bit like walking past a Snickers® when you've got a nut allergy. Up top, at the back of the stage [which doubles as Westminster Bridge and trebles as the inside of 'Big Ben'] sits a little trio who stand up when they play. Phil Daniels returns in Act2 to sing a Bowie song and he [if you'll excuse the X factorese] nails it. Makes it his own, gives it some welly, nickynackynoo. My only criticism of the band is that when they do 'Pretty Vacant' later, the drummer jazzes it up too much - instead of turning the drumsticks around and pounding away, it's all brrrrrmptitish paradiddle. When you stand up at the theatre you can't help noticing this sort of thing. Also you can dance to the music if you so choose, which we did so there. They even played some tunes after the bows, otherwise we would've been the first ones out, having such prime spots for a hasty exit.

To sum up, if you can afford a seat, go and see 'This House', I gave it 8 out of 10, my partner is still pondering so we go for a hung, Lib-Lab, 7 and a half. If you are undecided then pay a fiver [with a 5% donation to charity] and what have you got to loose? If you like it, get a seat and watch it properly, perhaps from the stage itself.

Bong.

21st Century Schizoids

Hello.
I'll come straight to the point; have you got another account? I have, but [in the words of Monty Python] it's all part of growing up and being British. Or American. Or Dutch. Or on Twitter.

I'm sure you have good reason to have a second [third, fourth...] account: perhaps you run your own business and don't want to spam normal Twitter friends with plugs for your diamante ladders or new novel about a child wizard who supports Scunthorpe... whatever; I did another account.

I recently saw "@followers:26k/following500" tweet that they also followed other "sources" for work purposes - this must make a lot of sense when you're a journalist and many of your tweets are announcements; but I've long suspected other big accounts of 'glove-puppeting'. This is where they have another @ to big-up the main one or diss rivals in extreme cases, or follow loads of other tweeters to find out what's going on without ruining the pristine "look-how-cool-I-am-I-only-have-to-follow-100" profile. Perhaps there's an app for it, who knows. I pity them, it must be awful.

An example:
Account with 30k followers and following 50 suddenly tweets "will you all STOP going on about Margaret Thatcher!"
"All"?
Do you remember what your timeline looked like when you only followed 50 people? If you follow 700 [as I do] and hopefully all of them are humans with something interesting to say [or RT by someone else], it's hardly going to cause a strobe-fit.
No, something's going on I reckon.

But that's them, what about us?
I started this other account ages ago and wanted to follow different people and be more ruthless unfollowing and blah blah blah it was fun for a while but didn't make me any happier. Then I started a different other account with my partner for "business" - like having two mobile phones, one for work, one for friends. Things I've found:

a] It's ridiculously easy to get followers for followers sake without going the dreaded TeamFollowBack route. Click on a recommended account, check they're not tweeting "win free 10-hour colonic scrub" every 30 seconds, see if they follow as many as follow them and press the button. It might take a few days for them to notice, but you've reeled them in...

Note: this is fun for a little while but only a little while; bit like playing solitaire or completing a jigsaw puzzle - the bits are already there, so no skill required.

b] You find yourself minding your language.

c] The account has an animal theme, so lots of animal-related accounts followed. Sadly, with animal accounts come animal cruelty stories and pictures of animal cruelty stories. I admire campaigners for animal rights of course, but a constant stream of horror, graphic images and descriptions became very disturbing very quickly. And I found out loads of new examples I hadn't previously heard of, making it even worse.

d] Some accounts are pure accidental comedy gold [I'm not joking about the diamante ladders for instance]

This is the thing with Twitter: ultimately it's about who you follow, not who follows you. Yes, those big accounts are always #FFing each other and they might not reply to you, but they're usually big accounts for a reason. Try a second account for yourself; it could be the release of frustration you need to get over writer's block or somesuch - as long as you have fun with it. What will become of our new venture? Gawd knows, perhaps we keep playing Follower-Jigsaw until it reaches 100K and sell it; like those TeamFollowBack guys...

I'd love to hear any of your other-account thoughts and experiences. x

Wish You Were There

HELLO! HAVING A GREAT TIME, WEATHER MIXED SO FAR.....

Loading and then unloading boxes for a recent move I chanced upon the postcard collection. Some I kept because the pictures on the front were nice enough to frame one day, some because of their comedy value [*scandanavians blowing ENORMOUS horns*, a postcard from Hel etc.] and the ones from dad. From 1988, when I was still at home looking after the pooch while they tripped, to 2007 when they no longer went abroad and were in declining health, dad would send a card. I think he saw it as a duty and perhaps a chore, but he knew I liked collecting so humoured me.

They were always written in capitals, usually contained one 'we're getting old' joke and had a certain rhythm to them. They are also a marker to my own life changes, the different addresses instantly take me back to those times, happy, sad or otherwise.

MENORCA THURS. 9.6.88.

DEAR ED & JUDY.

HAVING A GREAT TIME. WEATHER MIXED SO FAR, BUT WE'VE MANAGED TO GET A BIT OF COLOUR. HOTEL & FOOD COULDN'T BE BETTER. WENT ROUND THE ISLAND YESTERDAY. SEE YOU SOON
Ernie

There was a time when we called dad 'Ernie', 'Ern' or 'Ernst' [sis' kept to 'dad' I think]. Later we reverted to 'dad' out of respect, you shouldn't call your dad by his first name right? This must have been teenage rebellion that hung on too long.

ITALIA 6. 5. 90.

JUST GOT BACK FROM SORRENTO TOWN WINDOW SHOPPING! HAVING A GOOD TIME SO FAR. WEATHER SUNNY & WARM. SCENERY REALLY BEAUTIFUL. FOOD GOOD & HOTEL GOOD. GOING TO ROME TUESDAY & CAPRI FRIDAY. (DON'T FORGET MAY'S BIRTHDAY 16TH!) SEE YOU SOON.
"THE OLD FOGIE"
Ernie

Mum & dad's best friends lived in the next street in the Dagenham grid. Joyce & Ern started going on holiday with Joyce & Ern. Two lots of Joyce & Erns within a hundred yards of each other, it had to happen.

MALAGA TUES 9.6.92. 17.45 PM.

ED,
1 HOUR DELAY ON FLIGHT OUT. HOTEL ROOMS OK. FOOD NOTHING TO WRITE HOME ABOUT, SO I WON'T! WEATHER GREAT, SUNNY, BUT WINDY, WHICH KEEPS THE TEMPERATURE REASONABLE. WENT TO LOCAL MARKET TO-DAY. ERN DROVE THE HIRE CAR (AN OPEL CORSA CITY ABOUT THE SIZE OF A FIESTA).
SEE YOU SOON
ERNST.

MENORCA 19. 5. 94.*

DEAR ED.
NOW I'M 65 THEY SAY I'LL BE THE NEXT MEGALITH ON THE ISLAND! HAVING A GREAT TIME. SUN, SEA & SAND AND ALL THE FOOD YOU CAN EAT & MORE! I WAS DRAGGED ON TO THE STAGE LAST NIGHT & NOW PEOPLE KEEP COMING UP TO ME & SAYING "YOU'RE ERNIE, YOU WERE GOOD!!!" WE'LL RING YOU WHEN WE GET HOME, SEE YOU SOON
Ernst!
*dad's birthday

MALLORCA TUES 26/10/95

DEAR ED.
WE'LL BE HOME BEFORE YOU GET THIS CARD BUT THOUGHT I'D SEND ONE ANYWAY. OUR HOTEL IS THE ONE ON THE LEFT HAND FAR DISTANCE. GETTING READY FOR DINNER, GETTING BROWNED OFF IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY. UP THE HAMMERS!
Ernst

ES CANA 1/10/99

DEAR ED.
HOTEL OK. LOTS OF FOOD. WEATHER UP TO TO-DAY WINDY, CLOUDY & WARM. TO-DAY IT'S NO LONGER WINDY, SUN IS OUT & IT'S GOING TO BE A SCORCHER BY THE LOOK OF IT. OFF TO THE MARKET SOON. THEN WHO KNOWS? GETTING BROWNED OFF IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY. PROBABLY BE HOME BEFORE YOU GET THIS.
MUM & DAD

FRIDAY 1700 HRS. 26TH SEPT'03

DEAR ALL,
HAVING A GREAT TIME, SAME HOTEL AS WE CAME TO IN MARCH, HAD A THUNDERSTORM IN THE NIGHT BUT IT CLEARED BY MORNING. THIS IS FIRST DAY OF PROPER WEATHER, LET'S HOPE IT STAYS FOR 3 MORE WEEKS. UP THE IRONS! GOOD TO SEE THEY WON SHAME ABOUT SPURS!
PATER.

MALTA 22/2/2006 [AS REQUESTED]
DEAR ED ET AL.
HAVING A GREAT TIME. LOTS OF DANCING FOOD & WALKING. 2 MORE WEEKS TO GO NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO HOME. I'VE PHONED SUE & DAVE & I'LL PHONE ON FRIDAY. (THAT'S RATHER SILLY COS YOU'LL GET THIS CARD AFTER I'VE PHONED!) SILLY ME! I'LL ALSO PHONE WHEN WE GET HOME. HOTEL & COMPANY 1ST CLASS! GOING FOR A SHORTER WALK ON MY OWN, LONGER WALK EARLIER ALL OF US LOOKING BROWNED OFF IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY!
STILL SUNNY OUTSIDE.
DAD & MUM



 Wish they were here. x

An Open Letter From Michael Bolam

This notice is blu-tacked to the staff room door.....

"To: Staff, Ladies, Gentlemen, Rank, File etc.
From: Michael "Mike" Bolam [unofficial head kitchen porter, leader of bins, and bar.]

Now,
I know what you're thinking, "Aw, 'ere we go - another bloody notice about how untidy the staff room is, what'll it be this time?" "Something like, "Believe it or not, fairies do not come into this space after you've gone home and clear away your dirty protests for you."?" "Yeah, the sort of notice that encourages you to drop your trousers and leave one on the table." [that was more of a conversation than what one person was thinking, but I got carried away and sincerely hope no-one actually thinks like that. Not pleasant at all. You should be ashamed of yourselves] Anyway, now, the difference is that this notice doesn't come from the big-wigs, the fancy-Dans in the office with their lunch boxes, apples, condiments and the rest - but from me, your representative if you like. You see I'm one of you - I am leader of bins, but you all get to put stuff in bins - so we're almost equal. I'm going to cut through all the red tape, flim flam and managerial jargon and talk to you ear-to-ear, eye-to-eye & brain-to-brain about THIS ROOM - our lunching environmental haven.

Now, in a few billion years time the sun is going to run out of power. I don't know the details [I'm not a scientist], but it's a bit like a coal fire that slowly goes out because the coal can't last forever. Or an egg-timer when the sand runs into the bottom bit but the sand is energy and we don't get the benefit of what's in the bottom bit only the top bit. Or a candle [yes a candle, should've probably tried this one between the last two, sorry] that goes out when it runs out of candle. You get the picture. So, to recap, the sun, OUR sun, will eventually stop heating and lighting The Earth [like one of the utility companies going bust - that's my second favourite one so far] and we'll have to find somewhere else to go won't we? I know it's a long way off but they'll decide to travel to a new planet eventually - what if there's not enough room for everyone on the spaceship? Take this place as a 'for instance' - that lot in the office will get a ticket [you have to have people to order other people about, that's democracy] and the Vice-Chancellor of course, and Ken the maintenance guy, everybody loves Ken, but what about the rest of us? I can see them giving a written test, there might be a height restriction, "no trouble-makers, non-smokers only", that sort of thing - will you be up to it?

Now, I'm here to give you a helping hand because I know for definite what one of the exam questions will be. We've all seen films where someone is in a spaceship or an airplane flying at high hightetude - what happens when they have a gunfight and a bullet goes through the hull/fuselage/roof/starboard of the plane/ship? YES! The evil one of the two gets sucked through the tiny hole and into the endlessly cold wastes of space. WELL HOW CAN YOU EXPECT TO GET PICKED TO GO ON THE SPACESHIP THAT LEAVES OUR DYING PLANET IF YOU CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR TO THE STAFF ROOM YOU IGNORANT, THUMBLESS, TOSSPOTS?

Now, please sign below to indicate you have read and understood the above notice."