Starting my festival on the 1st August I bounded on stage full of bluster. On the 2nd I bounded on stage full of custard (big dessert). On the 3rd I had lost a little of my bound.
The 22.45 spot took some getting used to, I am usually in bed at 22.00 and have never, after 45 minutes squirming in a semi-conscious haze, leapt upright and exclaimed ‘By god I feel funny now!’ However, after adjusting my waking time to 12 noon, I am now hitting peak funny at about 23.00.
And bounding once more.
The biggest problem now is my shoes.
Initially the room’s broken air-con resulted in a ridiculous amount of on stage sweating; this salty effluvia sluiced down my legs, slaloming through my hairs, and ending in my footwear. My shoe’s are now a Pandora’s box of vile aromas, only by plugging them with my feet can I prevent the ills from being released into the world; it is quite disgusting slipping my leg ends back into that moist, pungent environment but, for the good of mankind (and because I cannot afford a new pair), I must.
I blame this stifling air condition too for me losing my voice early (no, it was not the smoking). Luckily,I bought a tincture from an old Chinese man, it came with rules: 5ml, 2-3 times daily. I also picked up a couple of gremlins while I was in there, they too came with rules but I cannot recollect what they were.
The tincture, combined with a remedy of my own design (steamed Strepsils gargled in sea salt infused water… and cigarettes) has brought my voice back to its full resplendence.
The air-con is fixed now but, alas, my shoes must forever carry the scars, and each bound be accompanied by a soft squelch that only I know about, and, for the good of mankind, forever must it remain that way.
Richard Todd: We Need the Eggs
Pleasance Courtyard – The Attic
1st – 26th August