Can't Stand Up for Sitting Down Read Online Free PDF Page A

bun, which had been thrown at me, back in the direction
of the thrower and it hit some poor innocent woman in the eye.
     
    For these, and the
thousand other dodgy pieces of behaviour I have indulged in and subsequently
repressed, I am well and truly regretful.

 
     
     
     
     

     
     
    Many comedians believe
touring to be a necessary evil, but I really love it. It’s self-contained,
straightforward, and when a night’s finished it’s finished and there’s no
hangover from it unless you have died on your arse — but a few drinks soon
sorts that out.
    I have
toured many times over the last twenty years, and each town seems to have its
own particular characteristics. Rather than laboriously detail each tour, it’s
perhaps best to give you an overall impression of touring and then list towns
I’ve been to which have had a major impression.
    My
touring life is divided into two sections: pre-children and after-children.
Before I got married and had kids I was free to tour wherever I wanted and for
however long I wanted to, which meant that I could be away for several days and
do a tour that progressed in a logical way round the country. Well I say that,
but Off the Kerb, which is the company I tour with, are famous for throwing you
the occasional googly by putting you on in Aberdeen one night, Southampton the
next and then Glasgow the next. This means you criss-cross the country quite a
few times, and if you don’t like sitting in cars you’re in trouble.
    For me,
the most important requirements of sitting in a car for ages are good
companions, a good driver, good radio and/or music, and lots of sweets. Once
all these are in place, on the whole things are OK. The only problem after that
is the motorways. These grind to a halt with alarming regularity but I have to
say that not once have 1 arrived late for a show, so we have obviously always
been sensibly grown up in setting off in plenty of time, although there have
been a few skin-of-our-teeth moments.
     
    Support Acts
    I toured firstly with my
friend Jeff Green for a number of years until he became worthy of tours in his
own right, and I was sad to see him go. I then toured for a while with Richard
Morton, who was always great to be with. Richard is such a lovable guy, so
helpful, friendly and sweet-natured, he almost makes me feel guilty for
existing. He’s a Geordie, but an atypical one given that he is small and slim
and unmacho. He was unerringly cheerful when we toured briefly, and believe you
me, unerringly cheerful isn’t the default position of most comedians.
    Richard
did stand-up and comedy songs, and can be spotted in the background in a club
in that wonderful series Our Friends in the North. He also happens to
have the same name as an opera singer and was booked to do a gig at the Sherman
Theatre near Cardiff once. However, the audience were expecting the opera
singer — and when Richard kicked off with, ‘My daddy was a sperm bank, he came
on my account …’ almost the entire audience got up and left.
    I have
finally ended up with Andy Robinson, with whom I still tour. He is an absolute
joy to work with, since he’s self-deprecating, generous, very funny and relaxed
— and his cynical attitude towards the business is very similar to mine.
    We have
such good fun when we’re touring because we get on so well. We like the same
kind of music so there are never any arguments in the car about what we have on
(Elvis Costello, Morrissey, Nick Cave-type stuff). However, Andy is a big Elvis
Presley fan and I’m afraid I draw the line at The King because I am one of
those sad people who prefer his later stuff like ‘Suspicious Minds’ and ‘The
Wonder of You’, which I think proper Elvis fans consider to be not very good.
My main attitude towards Elvis Presley, by the way, is that he was essentially
a simple country lad who just happened to be enormously good-looking and a
brilliant singer, and who was then sucked into the world of showbiz and