One Year (and a bit) On....

I noticed that I set this blog up more than a year ago. No doubt fired up by the fact that it was my birthday. Predictably, I've done nothing since. But, as the snow settles outside, and work beckons, the idea of posting an entry here, in this dusty old attic blog space seemed more and more attractive. You may read into this that I cannot even be bothered to make tea. And that is saying something.

Ah. I've just heard the kettle boil. That means Anna is making tea. Excellent....

We went this week to see 'On the Waterfront' - the Berkoff directed adaptation of some film, the name of which escapes me. Now then. That was a difficult watch. I imagine it might be all right if you've never seen a play before. You know - the excitement of some lights being on, the joy of there being a bit of the room at the front higher up than the bit of the room that you're in which as got chairs in it, one of which you're sitting in, the thrill of there being some men talking and moving (v-e-r-y) slowly around the place in hats, doing physical theatre bits here and there with varying degrees of enthusiasm (It is worth pointing out here that the correct amount of enthusiasm for physical theatre is 'none' - congratulations to those who knew this). But, bloody hell, I really thought it was awful. But you know, lots of people seemed to like it around me, mainly because the Brando impersonator was sweaty - and we all know - you can't fake sweat so that's acting.

Here's a tip for getting through the show by the way. Keep telling yourself that the lead actor is in fact doing an impression of 'The Fonz'. It makes the whole thing a bit funnier. It also makes you aware of what the Fonz (notice I couldn't make a 'The Fonz'/the Fonz decision - is 'the' a self appointed christian name for Arthur Fonzarelli - and therefore worthy of capitalizing?) might have been like had he been severely autistic. He even did the impression through the slow motion bow at the end. Which cheered me up - partly because it was over, and partly because they were being actively pretentious at this point, which I could properly dislike without feeling bad.

Still - I did hear a tremendous theatrical anecdote which I shall impart tomorrow.

Good health, dear reader, I shall report again with a certain irregularity.