Tuesday, 22nd March 2005 in Road Trip U.K. 2005.
Did anyone notice the deliberate mistake from entry on 16th march? ‘TV’ is actually meant to read ‘Eye Candy’. A slip of the brain I’m afraid. A prize of self-congratulation to all those who noticed.
So, to Redhill. Setting off in a merry mood and arriving at The Harlequin Theatre after going round the same roundabout many times, each spotting the ‘right’ way to go. In the end, I keep circling till they sort it out. Crew ready and waiting and all cases and personnel are pulled into an enormous lift. Nice theatre which turns out to be in the middle of a shopping centre so cough-sweets, vitamin drinks, fruits and nuts for later are bought with wild abandon. Lots of guests tonight. My sister, Maggie, and a friend come first – then John Dowie – a poet with whom Neil has shared many a lost evening and many a hilarious gig. He is a tall thin and very self- effacing poet who has written amongst many other works, a poem/play called ‘Dogman’ for children of all ages. This is now an audio CD read by Phil Jupitus – a popular English comedian- with Nel’s music. It is good to see John. The gig goes well – it is fabulous to be there when the audience come out after the first half. Having been initiated into the Ego Warrior clan -they rush to buy the T-shirt and the button. There are two young teenagers here tonight – I give them a badge but after the first half they buy the new CD and then are first in the queue to chat to Neil. This is amazing – can only think they have been subjected to endless and inadvertent brainwashing by their parents. The crew are with us till the last case is loaded then it’s back to The Thistle Hotel at Gatwick for the night. Here we are able to sit in the bar till the early hours. I put all the food we have – two sandwiches, bags of crisps, apples, bars of this and that and a prawn salad – onto the table but it remains untouched and in the end is thrown away as one by one we slide up the wooden hill to dreamland.
Neil’s thought for the day : ‘only with our eyes do we understand’
Tom’s poem – Proud Fall. ‘ Importance, Portents, Impotence’