I took the bus and tube to work this morning. I had no idea whether my voice was going to give out on me but in the end it was okay.
I woke up sounding like a bird had nested on my vocal chords.
In the event the crows flew away.
I had to talk to our sales team. Johnathan Richards, my boss, asked me questions and I husked my way through it.
I had to keep explaining myself since most of the people present weren’t born when I was in the middle of my first mid-life crisis.
I have decided to have a proper photo shoot so that I have a new set of pics. The ones being taken of me at the moment make me look older than Golder Meir – and she’s been dead 30 years….
Th old git stayed around so he could come to the theatre with me. We went to see An Inspector Calls.
We sat amid school girls from Bedford and their teacher who had seen the play 13 times.
Why? you may ask.
Well it’s theatrical, it’s glorious to look at. It’s about humanity. It uses lighting brilliantly. The acting is fierce and eminently watchable. The dialogue acute and interesting. The central prop HOUSE is a wonderful allegory for the play, we watch as the old order crumbles and tea cups and saucers shatter all over the stage. Dry ice to create pictures, Edna an 80 year old actress smoking central stage and all the while Priestley’s prose grabbing at you. Me and him loved it as did the all the Bedford belles.
I am interviewing Stephen Daldry, the director, tomorrow, he also directed Billy Eliot do join us…
It’s 23.33 and Question Time is talking about ageism, i think that’s where we came in….