What the hell is this jet lag? Peter, one of the professors out in Notre Dame, had a theory about jet lag. He thinks that the exciting place is the place where you don’t get it, and the boring place is where you do. I’m not sure. I think it’s to do with going East. Whatever it is it’s a plague on me right now. At about 9pm I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and I have to go to sleep no matter what. At about 4am I bounce up like a kid on Christmas morning and start running around my flat talking to myself.
It’s coming up to 9pm and I’m waiting for some friends so we can eat half price food at Maze Grill on the 50% Monday deal I get for living nearby. That’ll help me stay awake, I hope…
It did. It’s eleven, and I’ve eaten good steak. Now my eyes are droopy again, but I’m going to arbitrarily force myself to stay up until about 1 so there is no chance at all of the 4am BING.
FIRST DAY OF CAROL. Rehearsal. Tom Bellerby, myself and Jack Whitam. In a room. Thinking about sightlines. Working out why I might keep turning around on the spot. It is in a former shooting range. It’s the definition of long thin space. Vocally it means we are off the hook. We can do it with diction. Sound carries beautifully. It’s why they have to wear ear guards when they shoot. There’s room for subtlety, heaven forbid. And it’s not going to be freezing cold. In fact I have a suspicion that it’ll be hot. Lots of happy warm people enjoying a story of redemption while eating tasty food as part of the story and having an all round delightful time. It’s going to be glorious.
Tomorrow I’m going to go and get the Le Foe plates – a huge and varied collection of Victorian plates collected by the parents of a friend of mine and about to be pressed into action in a serious way as eclectic dining for large numbers of people in Mayfair this season. I rescued them from the tip and have been looking forward to what they are going to bring to proceedings. They aren’t universal. They might be pretty bloody weird. But there’ll be joy. There’s always joy.
Coming back into that room today helps me remember why I keep on coming back into that room, outside of the basic “because money” reason. I love this show. It is literally at the foundation of some of the deepest friendships I have in my rather odd life. I walked into the building in Mayfair and immediately recognised one of the building managers – Will used to intern at Sprite with us in Yorkshire. Now he’s here. I took him down to show him that Tom and Jack were there too. All four of us were in a field in Yorkshire ten years ago when he was but a teenager, making beautiful things for the sheer hell of it (and money). Some things never change…
I’m debating as to whether or not to risk my original Gladstone and Distraeli salt and pepper shakers. Back in the day when there were statesmen, not nasty self serving egotists.
They’ll probably get nicked if I do. But it might be worth it.