Slowly, over the course of the bank holiday Sunday, I’ve come to learn the extent to which people are willing to spend money on bollocks. I’ve been smashing round London, seeing friends, seeing family, working and playing. But meanwhile, on eBay, a bunch of unusual collectors have been fighting with each other about mugs that I would happily have thrown in the bin. This eBay thing is turning into a very valid cottage industry.
Meantime I went to see Max my brother, and his family. I just dumped a load of cash into his account from mutually owned stuff that I’ve sold. I’m happy to do the work. It’s the perfect actor’s day job. I can always prioritise an audition over sorting random stuff.
The last few years I’ve been the Easter bunny on this powerful day for my family. Max is almost apologetic when he tells me the kids are aware that the bunny is a fiction. It’s odd to contemplate that boundary. Which is the first to go? Tooth Fairy? Or Easter Bunny? I asked Santa about it and he said it was the tooth fairy that went first for him.
The actual genuine Easter bunny showed up, and hid a load of eggs and then we encouraged the kids to find them. It was a big part of my upbringing, the egg hunt, so it’s always lovely to make a similar hunt for Max’s kids. There’s always one egg that they can’t find.
It was joyful watching the kids do something largely pointless. I hid one huge egg, and was surprised that the laid back older sibling found it more than halfway through the hunt – I thought it would go to the motivated younger one. There’s a satisfaction in watching kids do pointless things that you’ve set up. Although these people aren’t kids any more. Nick is already taller than me. Catherine decided to make money selling things, much as I’ve been doing recently. She has brought a lizard into Max’s house as a result. She’s been reselling things at school to the extent she managed to get enough cash to buy a lizard from a guy who couldn’t move it with him to his new council house. He put it on the internet and she bought it. He had no idea that his lizard – “Bob” – was being bought by – basically – a child. But there’s Bob now in pride of place, in her bedroom, fed with live locusts, as adored as he is unusual. It’s brilliant she did that. Her dad talks about it with marvel in his demeanour.
Meantime I got to hang out with Nick, my excellent tall nephew. He has a remarkable grasp on the fundaments of story. He is a highly intelligent young man who automatically breaks stories into their component parts. He’s a massive fanboy, but sees how commercial stories are built, despite his fandom. I had a good few hours forensically breaking down stories I know very well indeed, with his head. He is currently less able to understand how the things we love can be made by people like us. But he’ll get there.
Meanwhile I’m hanging out with Emma. Who is a fucking legend. Friends… I love my friends. It’s all good.
Here we IS. Can you be as glam as us? Answers on a postcard.