When I started this blog, I was writing from the comfort of not being due at the Fringe for many days to come. Things have now changed. I’ve got 2 more nights at home and then I’m heading up to Scotland. I’m finding my days quite difficult to get through and my attention span and temper have both been shortened.
Shall we call this “The Quickening”? Is it anticipation? fear? champing at the bit? all of the above?
Probably not really fear in the true sense. I’m not worried about the consequences of being at the Fringe. There are some things that will need herculean feats of muscle or timing, but there’s nothing that’s so obviously likely to hurt me if it goes wrong. Well, maybe my ego if I’m given a slew of poor reviews, but I did ok with the show last year, and this year’s version of the show is noticeably better, so I’m not harbouring too much self-doubt in that regard.
I think it’s just a case of “waiting for Christmas”. I’m excited. This is a time of year that’s more interesting and enjoyable to me than the actual Christmas. I get to play the part of being a full time performer in various senses of the term. Not only will being a Fringe participant be a day-in day-out job for me, but I’ll also be labouring for my various shows from 11am to 6.30pm every day, using a variety of different skills from flyering, through show set-up, to performing. And then there are the extra evening gigs just to make things a bit more interesting. I should be exhausted by the end, and I most probably will be. I love it though. Even the most seasoned full-timers don’t have such a physically demanding schedule, except perhaps if they’re filming. Even then, I think filming is probably less physically demanding unless you’re Jackie Chan.
Never get Jackie Chan, Charlie Chan and Charlie Chaplin confused.
My jokes per minute ratio in normal conversation has gone up. This is probably an irritant to those around me, but then so is dishwasher powder, and someone has to make it. See!? Not acceptable. Soon, though there’ll be an acceptable place to toss out just pointless humouroids, and I’ll be there taking that opportunity. No sweat.
I’ve still not packed, though. I never do until the day before. I have a lot of show stuff to take with, so there’ll be a car load before we start, and then I’ll take enough fresh clothes to give me something new to wear each day for over 2 weeks, because I’m a man and uninterested in using washing machines. That’s my system. Don’t question it.
So watch out Edinburgh, I’m on my way. I’ll bring bad puns, a bulging waistband and enthusiasm enough to prove that the only old man around here is the one who has replace my body with his own and left the young, giddy, exuberant me, relatively unscathed, inside and working that body as best he can. Two sleeps to the Fringe indeed… what am I? like 9? Yes! I’m a 9 year old Doctor Who fan with lots of toys to play with in a massive performery playground. Bring it on!
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