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Sunday, September 9

Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon

Despite the fact that I had to be up at what was a ridiculous time for a Sunday in order to be at my sister's house in time for breakfast, and despite the fact that I failed to arise at this time, though the time I did arise was still fairly ridiculous (in my book at least), and despite the fact that the gig which was my original reason for coming to London was cancelled, I've had a good day.

The journey to London involved running about 30 minutes later than the arbitrary arrival time I'd set. However, since I had to drive by the book, there was nothing I could do about this rush other than just accept that I would be late. Thusly, I relaxed. Simple.

Morning at my sister's involved coffee and woozy head. That's a potent mix.

Then my sister went out, leaving me in the company of a piano and a laptop. Not a bad combination. I pianoed and blogged.

I found it easy to get to the cinema where the afternoon film was being shown. In fact, it was two films, along with the opportunity to buy the new book from the collective pen of the League of Gentlemen.

We first had a brief intro from all four of the LoGs and then we watched their Christmas Special, which is a portmanteau horror compendium parody. After a break, we watched the Vincent Price movie - Theatre Of Blood - which made us laugh, mainly by its own design, but occasionally through the lapse of 35 or so years introducing some cultural irregularities. We're more cynical these days, so we laughed some stuff down.

Still, it was entertaining and illuminating. More so was the post-film Q&A session from the LoGs about their work, their influences and the new book, which is really about their influences. Then they did a book signing. I had my book signed, along with the programme from The Drowsy Chaperon, which Steve Pemberton was in. I got to tell him that I loved the show and felt it a shame that it ended so quickly. It was nice to get the opportunity to do that.

My phone rang a few times during the movie and I had to ignore it. One call was from the promoter pulling the evening's gig. So I grabbed a coffee at a friend's house - it was he who told me about the afternoon screening in the first place - and then returned to my sister's house where she achieved something I had failed to achieve by 6.30pm in a day, she fed me. Good work.


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