Yesterday was one of the best days ever.
It was the sort of perfect day that seems effortless when it happens, but that no amount of future effort can force into being. - Georg[i]e
The day before had been a really annoying one. One of those days that runs like The Streets' album A Grand Don't Come for Free, where you set out to achieve something and end up wishing you'd stayed in bed.
Yesterday, I was still hiding beneath the covers. For the Jubilee weekend, The Everyman in Cheltenham (extremely well funded, all-singing, all-dancing venue of national renown) had donated a free kids' show to the a I was helping out at. They were due to take it to the Hullabaloo festival, but it was rained out. I put my hand up fast enough to secure it.
In return for getting the show for free, we were also offering the show for free. Our first foray into touring companies had been a financial disaster. I wasn't feeling too enthusiastic this time, either. I'd contacted Barnardo's a while back and they reckoned they'd be able to fill the place. Over a week later and I hadn't heard anything. I phoned up again, was given the regional centre numbers, and discovered - as I started phoning round - that nobody had heard anything about it.
Bit of last-minute frantic promotion and thankfully we got a respectable number of people through the door. I even managed to gain a couple more by running to the local newsagent and making a public announcement by the till.
Anyway. It was brilliant. The show was a puppet story about a selfish giant. To hear the theatre full of kids shouting their heads off and having a fantastic time - exactly what a theatre should be about! The Citizen even turned up to take photos for the Jubilee listings.
Put a 'thank you for coming' note on our Facebook page today and got this wonderful response:
It was an hour very well spent, my daughter loved it. Thanks to both you and the actors!
The show got the day off to a great start, and I'll never forget hanging out in the foyer during the performance with my techies. They're the best. We were building paper aeroplanes and seeing how far they'd fly from the circle stairs window. Felt about five years old myself, so much fun.
En route to see the gig (a birthday present from Dad & M) we stopped off at The Wyche Inn in Malvern. Hand on heart, it was one of the best pubs I have ever been to. Fantastically friendly staff, amazing, affordable food, freehouse with a range of ales, reading material whilst you wait, a pool hall and, although they have a telly, they turn it off unless something special's on.
If you're ever passing, stop off.
Conversely, the day before, I'd been to one of the worst pubs ever: The Oakwood, Twigworth. Avoid like the plague. Being out of your first choice is one thing. Waiting half an hour to tell you they're out of your second choice is ridiculous. Saying 'we're just heating it up', then taking another half an hour to do so, delivering a plate that looks like something vomited up by a Special Brew guzzling ned... Just don't even go there. Honestly, do not go there.
Back to the awesome stuff.
There's not a lot you need to say after that, really.
I must admit, it was slightly depressing having managed to fill a 375 seat theatre with twenty-one people last week, to then sit and watch as an 800+ seater filled to bursting point.
All things considered, though, Tim does kinda top 'mental play about a British suicide bomber'...so... *shrug*
Plus, Malvern Theatre is in the centre of a gorgeous park. It's bright, airy, and all good things. They even have a bandstand. If we had a bandstand, I'm sure we'd be just as popular.
He was playing there as part of the piano festival, and there was the sexiest red piano in the foyer - a Yamaha Elton John special edition. It even played itself! Oh, dear gods, it was beautiful.
The gig itself was unbelievable. The Cont song was pure genius, complimented by all the greats: Prejudice, Dark Side and the Boob Song (Confessions).
Full standing ovation - the whole building was rocking with stamping feet and clapping. Wonderfully deserved. Ended on a very calm encore called Beauty.
It took the audience a while to realise it wasn't a punchline song. It was sort of hypnotic. Perfect song to stem a repeat encore, because it left everyone thoughtful. Sort of sad, a little. "As you fell for her, she stole from you." Hmm.
Though, to be fair, it's hard to accept that anyone so very talented can sing a song about beauty coming so easily for others.
I do rather love the song, though.
That's really where everything should have ended.
Days like that - this is how it works, no? The clock strikes midnight and we all turn back into pumpkins?
Well, looks like my Fairly Odd Mother stayed up drinking all night. She stumbled through the door this morning with an e-mail from a friend in the states.
Occasionally I use my powers for good and write things for people. A while back someone was looking for a short of about ten minutes to film. I obliged and left it with him. Today's e-mail:
So, it turns out that everyone that has read the script as of yet has absolutely loved it... we need to know if it's alright with you for us to use your script as more than just something I was going to throw together. The plan is to make this with a rather defined budget so that it turns out as near to perfection as it can...
Naturally, I'm hugely honoured. It's wonderful when you write something - especially something that's helping out other projects - and to have such glowing feedback. Naturally I'm very happy for them to take this forward. Probably take some time to get the cash, these things are notoriously long-term, but knowing it's out there and gathering potential is lovely.