why I Stopped

WHY I STOPPED BEING A STAND-UP COMEDIAN

Chapter 5

One more A Funny Thing Happened To Me On The Way To The Theatre story…

The play that the Nine Year Old Boy and I put on in 1989 was based on the work of Philip K. Dick, a science fiction writer who died in 1982. While researching material for the show, I was given the text of a speech that Philip K. Dick gave to a science-fiction convention in France. The text had never been published. During the speech, Philip K. Dick claimed to have had visions of several alternate realities. A reality in which Nixon had not been deposed. Another in which Germany won the war. He also described his vision of the perfect reality. A reality in which Christ had returned. He called this reality state The Garden.

One part of the speech haunted me; I tried to fit it into my text but there was no way I could use it. It went like this:

I think I once experienced a track in which the Saviour returned. But I experienced it just very briefly. I am not there now. I am not sure I ever was. Certainly I may never be there again. I grieve for that loss, but loss it is; somehow I moved laterally, but then fell back and then it was gone. A vanished mountain and a stream. The sound of bells. All gone now for me; entirely gone.

On the first day of rehearsal the actor arrived and said, “What was Philip K. Dick's favourite drink?”

I replied (untruthfully), “I don't know.”

“Laphroaig Whisky,” he replied, producing a bottle and thus ending the first rehearsal.

Originally, the show was entitled, with a startling lack of originality, “Philip K. Dick”. Later, the title was changed...

On the first night of the show, which was being performed at the (guess where?) Finborough Theatre (the Borough of the Fin), the actor was getting ready upstairs. I was in the downstairs bar. A man came into the pub, looking flustered and ill-at-ease. He asked for me. The barman sent him over. Still looking desperately embarrassed, he said, "A man in the street asked me to come in here and give you this."

Then he handed me a bottle of Laphroaig whisky.

I took this to be a first night present from the actor. But it seemed a peculiar way for him to give it to me. I said, "What man? What did he look like?"

The stranger replied, "He looked about sixty."

Now, the actor wasn't sixty. And I don't know many sixty years old, but the ones that I do know can't afford bottles of Laphroaig whisky. I said, "Did he tell you his name?"

The man replied, "He said his name was Phil. And he said I had to give you a message."

"What was the message?"

"The message was ‘Take Them To The Garden’."

Which, of course, I would love to do. I would love to take us to a reality state in which the Saviour had returned. I would love to see the mountain and the stream. I would love to hear the sound of bells. My only problem is, I have no idea how we get there. But maybe we could start getting there by not putting cigar butts in a dolphin's blowhole; by not persecuting children if they run around in banks; and by not asking stupid questions like, "What purpose does the dwarf serve?"

And now, I am going to leave you. I thank you for your time and your attention and I will leave you in the best Showbiz tradition – with a song. It's a small song, but, as we all know, just because a thing is small that doesn't mean it has no value. (And that's another old Showbiz tradition: always finish with a willy joke.) I hope that you enjoy this song because it is the best – the very best – that I can do for you. And I will do it for you as best I can and with a good heart.

Yompy bompy bo!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Yompy bompy bo!

Note: I have made no attempt to update this text – obviously many things have changed since I wrote it. Dr Rachel Pinney is no longer with us. “Releasing your inner child” has become a New Age cliché (which doesn’t mean it has no value). I don’t know what’s happened to Joe Coleman – I suspect he’s still blowing himself up somewhere.

The creation of this text was made possible with the assistance of my good friend Anthony Matheson and by the support, both financial and emotional (which continues), of my then-partner, Lucy Scott-Moncrieff. I am proud of this text and very pleased that I was able to perform it. They were some of the best shows I have ever done.