Leamington Spa Royal Spa Centre Tues Sept 7th

Just to complete the full Travelodge Experience, I spent much of the night parking my tiger in the loo, thanks, almost certainly, to a suspect chicken and mushroom pie that I had last night, so it's a somewhat less than refreshed Henderson that drags his lardy arse out to the van. The lads are all up and about and have been sampling the delights of a nearby Sainsbury's cafe, but the very idea of breakfast makes me want to blow chunks, so I pass. Pug very kindly brings me a bottle of flavoured milk to help settle my roiling innards, and despite initial doubts I give it a try. If it works, great, but if it doesn't at least the vom will be colourful.... The drive from Hereford to Leamington takes us into the countryside on our way to the M5, and it's a lovely autumn morning as we wind our way up hill and down dale, and we're thoroughly enjoying the drive...right until we suddenly run into Hi - Visibility Vest Man and his " Road Closed " sign. Bugger. Nick's behind us in his van, so we set off in convoy along the diversion signs, which, in time-honoured fashion, disappear almost immediately, leaving us deeper and deeper into Nowhereland. We decide to place our trust in Doris The Sat-Nag, who is telling us to turn left along what appears to be a donkey track, but it soon broadens out into a single cart-lane, so we know we're going in the right direction. The scenery is quite stunning, and one hilltop vista in particular looks like it's painted on the brilliant blue sky. It's all very Watership Down, but we've got a gig to get to, and the fact that we've just passed a carvan of Bedoiun traders and their camels makes us wonder if we're as close to the main road as we thought. I don't think we're in Herefordshire anymore, Toto....Fortunately we hit the road we need just a couple of miles further on, and from there it's a straight, fast run to Leamington, or Royal Leamington Spa to give it it's full name. It really is a very pretty place, all Regency grandeur and horsey ladies in pearls and twinsets, though the Royal Spa Centre itself is a modern theatre that sits a little uncomfortably in the middle of all this opulence. Having said that, it's got good facilities, a nice big stage and a helpful, friendly crew. It soon becomes clear, however, that one thing it HASN'T got is an audience for tonight's show. We were always a little nervous about this one because the theatre has just re-opened after summer refurbishment, and we are only the second show of the autumn season, so there was a fear that their promo and marketing machine wouldn't be fully geared up to these early shows. Our fears, as it transpires, are justified....they've sold a paltry seventy - two advance tickets for tonight. Now, sometimes, things like this happen and they just don't make sense. I've seen the marketing schedule the theatre has done, and it includes all the posters, flyers, mail shots, e-shots and newspaper ads we could ask for. The ads also cover Coventry, possibly our strongest area outside of home territory, so there's no rhyme nor reason why this hasn't sold, but the fact is that it hasn't. There are two ways you can go in these situations. One is to throw a righteous wobbler, blame everyone in the world and cancel the show, pissing off theatre and ticket-buyers alike, and the other is to bite the bullet, get on with it, and chalk it up to experience. I can see that the theatre's done it's bit to push the show and that they're as baffled as we are, so we go for the latter option.
As I said in a previous blog, the band have got a good attitude to this kind of situation, and they're very philosophical about it all. The show will still be as good as if we had a full house, and there'll be no slacking or shirking, so all I have to do now is tear at my clothing in despair and wonder how the buggery bollocks I can absorb the financial hit we'll take tonight. Luckily nspiration strikes. Drink heavily. I thus head to the pub with the others where I proceed to get steaming drunk and start a fight with a policeman. And his horse. On a serious note, this is a landmark we hoped we'd never reach, namely a new lowest audience attendance figure. The trick is not to let is get you down until afterwards, so though we watch somewhat disconsolately as the sparse audience drifts into the theatre, we click back into " show gear " as soon as the house lights go down. As often happens, it's never the disaster I was afraid of. For a little crowd they make their presence felt, and though some of the jokes might not get the belly-laughs they do elsewhere, this is going well....very well, in fact. Technically, it's a flawless show, and there's nothing forced about the audience's response to the band or their calls for an encore. In many ways the lads have worked even harder tonight; instead of going into their shells they've been smiling and looking like they're enjoying themselves, and Chris in particular has been something of a cheerleader over the past few shows. There's a steady stream of people telling Pug and Damian what a fantastic show it is as they file out afterwards, and as Den says, that's what this building process with the show is all about. They'll tell people who will tell people, and the next time we come here it'll be a totally different story. Next time there'll be no-one here at all......!