Another joyful if extremely busy day of shows. The schedule has always been pretty full on for us, but this one is even more so. Friday Saturday Sunday matinees, and early matinees too. Previous years with two show days, the first show hasn’t been until like 3pm so we get to recover in the morning and then just do two shows back to back almost like its one long show. This year we have just enough time to lose the warm before we have to warm up again. It means we are on for very long days too in terms of hours. We get there in the morning. We are there until late. Added to which, the house opens a full hour before we start the show. We used to open it as late as we humanly could and smoke the place just before they wandered in. In this venue, we will have spent a full 24 hour day of our lives waiting backstage in a little dark improvised cupboard type hiding place by the end of the run. Still, we won’t have to clunge blocked loos with broom handles just before the show while in costume, there won’t be daily dogshit in our dressing room, nobody will be shouting “when the saints come marching in” through a traffic cone just outside the window during the tender moments… Carol has always had strangenesses, and they have never stopped us from absolutely loving it. I’m loving the team this year once more. It’s a joy. It’s such a good team. I’ll tell you about them one day but I keep forgetting to ask for permission until too late and I don’t like writing about people until I’ve cleared it, as most of you understand by now.
Anyway, Jack and I hung out in the space again between shows. He watched the footy. And I can say what I like about him. There he is. Such a fine figure of manliness. Look on him.
I sat before the show as he watched the footy. I consumed a plastic spaghetti from Marks and Sparks, despite all the sexy food happening nearby. We don’t get show food unless there are fucktons of no-shows as its not on platters so they can’t plate us leftovers. Surprisingly that’s totally ok by me. In previous years I’ve been bored of turkey by now anyway. I would end up shunning leftovers and stopping my bicycle at the burger van on Chelsea Bridge… I never got bored of Natalie’s Pavlova when it was available, but we aren’t having it this year, and leftovers aren’t in the game because of Covid. As a result, I haven’t tried her figgy pudding. I probably never will, but I expect it’s good as Natalie really understands dessert… But I’m not gonna want Turkey every day of December. Occasionally, when loads of people don’t show up, yes. Otherwise nah…
I’m loving Carol this year. I’m loving this group and finding out about this audience. The Jersey audience is wide. They are surprisingly game. They get stuck in. Jack and I can safely say by now that there’s very little that hasn’t been thrown at us before. We let it flow as much as we can. We follow the river, trusting that we know the material well enough to hit back into the story. We give the drunkies their rein, and then snatch it back. There’s astonishing complacency in these people, and literally frightening entitlement. But they are mostly kind at heart. They are just … looking in the wrong direction. This is a good story to tell in this island. A man who followed money too far and forgot his humanity… I just hope certain members of our audience so far see the very obvious comparison between themselves and the humbugging miser they feel safe from..