Hayes The Beck Theatre Sun Feb 14th

Here we are, then, creaking back into action after the enforced break and cruising down the A40. Doesn't sound QUITE as impressive as " cruising down Santa Monica Boulevard " but to be honest no-one really cares....we're just glad to be back on the road. This is a nice one to get back in the saddle with as well....good facilities, close to home, and it's been selling healthily too. This being a Booties show, however, it just wouldn't be right if there wasn't some kind of cowpat laid by the devil's own satanic herd just awaiting the tread of our unsuspecting feet. The arsepain du jour is a loading ramp so steep it wouldn't have looked out of place with Eddie The Eagle gurning his way down it en route to another crash landing. It's like the north face of the bloody Eiger, and suddenly everyone remembers something REALLY important that they have to go inside the theatre and check on. Out comes the electric cattle prod, though, and the crew are herded back onto the loading dock where Clive has just arrived in the truck and is attempting to inch his way up to the top of this vertiginous nightmare. Finally, in a cloud of grey smoke heady with the scent of diesel fumes and burning clutch he makes it, and the load-in begins. The inside of the truck soon becomes a swearfest of Olympian proportions as flight cases which could hitherto be wheeled gaily out with but a flourish of the wrist suddenly take on the characteristics of freshly-set concrete as they are pushed, pulled and heaved up what seems like a 1 in 4 slope and into the theatre. Finally, weary of muscle and strained of groin, we get the last cases in, and everything quickly starts getting better. There's loads of room, the three risers we need are already in place and the house PA is excellent, so Arthur decides to use this rather than our touring system. This saves us a big chunk of time, and it's with a bit of a shock that we realise at 3.00pm we're pretty much set up and ready to go. For some reason my suggestion that we take it all down again and see if we can set it up even faster falls on deaf ears. No spirit of adventure, these youngsters....The band duly arrive and the question on everyone's lips is, of course, " How's Den's voice ? " The answer is a slighly cagey " better but still a bit fragile ", so the Anxiety Status moves to DefCon 3. As a result of this, he's re-jigged the set ( now THERE'S something we haven't seen before !! ) to try and protect himself a bit. The hope was that we could go straight back to the " real " set, but Den's not ready yet, so this will do for now. At least he's done a whole new slide show for the new set which he's brought with him, so there's not going to be any last - minute fannying around with the visuals like on some of the last shows. Soundcheck slides past and the crew even have time for an hour's break, which they fill by walking to the main road and sampling the delights of the local fleshpots. This actually entails visiting a Londis cornershop and loading up on pasties, pies, sarnies and samosas, but it amounts to the same thing.( Author's note : Does anyone actually know what a
" fleshpot" is ? Have you seen one / been in one ? If so please contact me through the comments box on this blog. And if you've got pictures of one, that's even better !) Only one thing remains when we get back to the theatre, and that's for the house crew to run out our comms system. For those of you who aren't familiar with the term ( that'll be about 99.9% of you, then ), a comms system is an internal communications network which links all the key positions like front of house sound, lighting desk and monitor desk. Basically it's a bunch of little headsets with microphones that connect together and let everyone on the crew talk to each other. ...but in a good way. With this show they're crucial, as I have to talk to AV, lights, front of house sound and monitor desk in order to pass on various cues and instructions. All theatres provide these, but as showtime approaches it becomes apparent that there's a problem with the house system. What initially seems like a little hiccup soon turns into a huge belch as we're told there are some major issues with the comms, and the house guys can't get them to work. Go to DefCon 2 !!!! Our appointed start time comes and goes, and still the house guys scurry around in the dark like demented moles. Sadly they're just about as effective, and fifteen minutes after we're meant to start they're no further forward, so a bowel-bothering decision has to be taken. We have two walkie - talkies, so I take one and Rodders the other. At least the lights will come on and off at the right times, and as Clive's just a poke in the eye away from me, I can cue his video inserts with a well-aimed forefinger. It means I've got no communication with Arthur at front of house or Pug on monitors, but at least we've got a fighting chance of making SOMETHING work. The fact is, false modesty aside, that we're all actually pretty good at what we do, and we've already learned a lot of the cues by heart, so to our surprise and pleasure we sail through the first half without a hitch. The band look like they're enjoying themselves, too, and Den's voice sounds fine. The audience are lapping it up, and by the time the final two singalong numbers are played they're totally behind us, just as they have been on every date of the tour so far. There's a bit of disgruntlement in the camp that we didn't do " Jumpin' Jack Flash " tonight, but by the end of the show I'm not feeling that at all....in fact I'm positively gruntled. In spite of all the danger, tonight's show was slick, professional and pretty much bang - on. Those bloody Rules of Rock again....! All that remains is to load everything back out, and this time we're treated to the sight of crew shrieking in terror as the flight case they're hanging onto for dear life hurtles like an express train into the Stygian depths of the truck. Loud crashes ensue. The forces of gravity act like an extra stagehand on the gear, and in no time at all the truck is packed ( if a little front - heavily ! ). One more comedy moment remains, though....as Clive jumps up into the truck with his bag, the bag somehow disengages the air handbrake, and suddenly the truck's bombing down the ramp, seemingly intent on achieving escape velocity. Clive's made of stern stuff, however, and doesn't panic...he just stomps on the footbrake, which in turn sends him sprawling against the windscreen like an insect. Only much, much bigger. And with only two legs. And long hair. And no wings. In fact, not very much like an insect at all, come to think of it. Another great show, then, but once again we have the frustration of having ANOTHER break tomorrow, as this was the originally - planned day off. As I drive home I find myself musing about this, and it's with shocking clarity that I suddenly realise I'm looking forward to Swindon !!! ( now THERE'S an expression you don't hear every day......).Clive manages to bring everyhting into focus with one of his texted jokes ..." Hi ! I've just bought a new car. It's a Toyota Prius !!!Got to go now - can't stop ! " Boom, and furthermore, boom....