When I last (and first) did this in May
I began it:
Will this become a monthly genre of post; will I do three or four times and then go off it, or will I do it this once and then never again? Let’s find out…
Well, today we can rule out option one and option three. Let the research continue!
From an early morning train, just saw a farmer rounding up sheep with a border collie. For a moment, it felt like a period drama, but I suppose it’s not- it’s just that no technology has come along that’s better at a sheepdog’s job, for the cost of running a sheepdog, than a sheepdog.
The instructions for what to do in the event of a fire in this hotel begin:
Call 999.
Fight the fire - only if possible.
I love the tone of item 2. Every day, I am tempted to amend it to ‘Fight the fire - no worries if not.’
In the car, found I was particularly enjoying the piece of music that happened to be playing on the radio, so I looked at the display to see who composed it. Shostakovich! Now, I think of Shostakovich as a daunting and difficult, or at least rarified, composer, suitable only for serious classical music lovers. So I sort of patted myself on the back for having spontaneously enjoyed his work: who knows, maybe having Radio 3 on in the car is helping me enjoy music on a higher, more-
And then the piece ended, and the presenter back-announced it with something like: “One can only imagine how it must have tormented an artist like Shostakovich to be forced by the Soviet government to produce such bombastic, worthless musical pap. He said of it ‘They made me write it, but they cannot make me listen to it.’ Stalin, however, absolutely bloody loved it, and said ‘This music is perfect for people who are exactly like me.’”
Why in the wide world have you made the policeman shorter than the minimum height? You run a children’s fairground ride! You must have met children! You must see, every day, children celebrating that they are as tall as the policeman, so they can ride a horse, and their luckless adult having to explain that in this one case, you have to be as tall as the policeman plus three inches of lime green air. Still, at least the other one…
…what is the MATTER with you?
On train to London. Young man gets on, sits opposite me, opens smelly drink, starts loud sweary conversation on his phone. I want to move, but it doesn’t even cross my mind to do so straight away. Instead I plan to do what I always do in these situations, and move carriages just before the next station, so that the person will assume I’m just getting up to leave at this stop.
But there’s a problem. This time, the man is so irritating that I think to myself ‘I’d better not move at the next station - it’ll be too obvious that I’m really just moving away from him. I’ll do it at the station after.’
Because heaven forbid he should be offended…
John Finnemore Among Others - Camden
Short notice extra JFAO alert - I’m putting in an extra date in the sleepy village of London, in two weeks time! It’s at the beautiful Cecil Sharp House in Camden, where we often do previews, on the 21st August, and it will be the usual mix of sketches from all series in the first half, and a Double Act play in the second. But, because almost all the cast live in London, I’m having almost all of them in the show. So we’ll be doing some of the three and four handers we can’t usually do, and you are in no danger of me being the one to sing the song. (I haven’t worked out what to do with the other two during the Double Act yet but I’ll think of something. Maybe they can do Foley sound effects…) Kids welcome. Tickets here.
John Finnemore Among Other - Brighton
…But if you’re only really into Souvenir Programme for Lawry Lewin (and who can blame you), do not despair. He and I are doing a more traditional JFAO at the Komedia in Brighton on the 17th August. And if you saw the last one we did there a year or two again, we’ll be doing different sketches, and a different Double Act. But it is my duty to warn you that you are at some danger of me singing the song. Kids still welcome. Tickets here.
Ads over, we now return you to John Finnemore On His Own, Writing His Diary. Unless the pesky paywall stands in your way, in which case
Love,
The Airport.
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