Happy one hundredth birthday

This would appear to be my 100th blog, which I feel ought to be marked with a fanfare of some description. Perhaps a fanfare of cake. I’m in Soho after all...


I spent the morning with Nathan, Nat, Nic and Jo; my friends from a play I worked on at the Edinburgh Festival 17 years ago. 17 years! Surely my life must be speeding up! I hadn’t seen Jo for over a year and she seemed very well. She had her second child 10 months ago and is emerging from the baby haze and longs for a decent conversation. The mood was fairly sombre, however, as close friend of Nic’s has just died. I think it’s probably time for her to have a bit of good news...

We milled around the Southbank and then wandered up through Covent Garden to Soho in the lovely spring sunshine. We talked about the past and remembered the weird dramatic stunts we used to pull in our youth. Jo and I often pretended to be a married couple and would have these dreadful rows on the tubes to see how people would react. She’d often stick a jumper under her coat, pretend to be pregnant and scream; “look what you’re leaving me with...” On other occasions we’d try to get people on buses singing, more often than not pretending to be a troupe of born again Christians who wanted to sing Kum Ba Yah. How ghastly we must have been back then! No wonder I was known as King Thesp at university! I used to stumble around bare-footed wearing pyjama trousers whilst quoting scenes from Abigail’s Party. I don’t know how I stayed alive!

Anyway, I’ve officially overdosed on cups of teas and have a sniffy nose, which I’m hoping to God isn’t the first signs of hay fever. That would be horrific. This year seems to have been a blur of ill-health for pretty much everyone I know.

Tonight is my mate Ted’s unofficial birthday party. I’ve known him for well over 20 years. We used to busk in Coventry as a string trio with Fiona. I was there at his 18th birthday and many birthdays from then on. Today’s drinks have been organised for those who couldn’t make his official do! We’re going to Soho House and I predict that someone’s going to get drunk!

I suspect the Nazeby remained anchored at Deal on this date 350 years ago. Most of the commanders of the Fleet came on board and made a lot of noise whilst eating and drinking and generally over-indulging. Pepys reported that he was having a great deal of fun until the point when he'd probably had a little bit too much to drink and suddenly retired to his cabin “in a melancholy fit”. And there he sat for some time playing his violin. I think I should probably indulge in the odd melancholy fit. I reckon it would suit me. Wouldn't the world be a much better place if sad people periodically retired to quiet corners to play stringed instruments?