A couple of weeks ago I overheard a WH Smith employee telling a customer that he’d looked up the author of a book and it was William Golding. The customer was looking for Lord of the Flies. That’s right, he had to look up the title of Nobel Prize winning, thrice adapted, on the GCSE, Junior Cert 1954 classic allegory Lord of the Flies.
Needless to say, I posted this on Twitter and FaceBook and got accused of elitism and snobbery. I’m not saying that someone working in a bookshop needs to know the author of every book under the sun, but a basic grounding in the classics couldn’t hurt.
However, during the climactic scene we started to hear a low but constant beeping. Ang, being much more generous than I am, only glared accusingly at the smoke alarm but I turned around to shush what I thought was a rampaging horde of huge thumbed happy-slappers. Cue a retreat of almost Gallic proportions when it turned out the source of the beeping was none other than Professor Hawking.
Even though the terrible acoustics in the Corn Exchange forced him to slow down his trademark fast delivery but Dára Ó Briain managed to squeeze his entire show into two of the funniest hours I’ve ever spent in the company of a fellow countryman.
The set pieces ranged from our obsessions with keeping up with “stuff” to being stalked by the lonliest man in the world (Will Smith in the abominable I am Legend, coming soon to every format imaginable) and managed to keep the laughs going through the uneven audience participation section.
The tour is selling out quickly but it’s definitely worth traveling to get to a show if only to see there’s certainly more to Ó Briain than being the token Paddy on the BBC.
A couple of nights ago we were settling down for the night when this thing on the left started dive bombing the bed. With no clue as to how an insect managed to survive this long into the winter or even that night, when the outside temperature was a couple of degrees below freezing we assumed that it came back with us from a week’s holiday in Malta. Turns out it was a Peacock Butterfly and was probably asleep in a cupboard somewhere but thought it was spring when the heating came on.
I’m nervous about what else might be lying dormant…
Angharad has been going to the gym for a couple of months and in some sort of masochistic way has
started enjoying it. Of course, when one enjoys something the first thought is to share it with your friends and loved ones which is why the little darling gave my name and phone number so I could have a free trial.
Me (confused because my phone is ringing on a Saturday afternoon):
R.T.P.S.F.I: Hallo Mr. Ryan, this is Roberta from L.A. Fitness. You have been referred by a friend who thinks you need to go to the gym. How about a free session to see what you need to do.
Me (battered by the joint attack of peppiness and Spanishness):
Uhm. Yes. That sounds like a good idea.
R: Great. Can you come down in five minutes. Me: Woah there lil horsey. I can come some time next week.
R: I don’t think that’s enough motivation, why don’t you just skip along right now. Me: No. Really. Next week.
R (Showing her true alien side, for all fitness instructors are
from a dying alien planet come here to steal our
hard-earned flab): Now really Mr. Ryan, don’t you want to be
fit. It’s in your best interest to come down tomorrow. Me: But it’s a three-day weekend. I’m being lazy!
R: That’s not good enough. You have to make an appointment now. Me (starting to sob): Okay okay. Tuesday evening.
R: That’s better. We’ll see you at 6pm on Tuesday. Don’t forget, we know where you live…
A while ago I saw Kinky Boots, a very British comedy set in the north of England about a shoe factory saved from bankruptcy by changing their product line from quality mens’ brogues to womens’ boots that could hold the weight of a man for transvestites. While the film was very simple and had some quite sweet moments, it was made all the more odd because the transvestite in question was played by Chitwetel Ejiofor, who had previously played the Central government assassin in Serenity.
It’s not every day where you see someone as an assassin one week and a very convincing transvestite the next.
As if that weren’t strange enough, Stephen Hawking was in the front row and appeared the enjoy the movie quite a lot.