I don't think I've mentioned this yet. In January I became a new columnist for Warwickshire Life Magazine. I have just submitted a piece for publication later this year. One paragraph states boldly: "I am not normally superstitious." Well, scrub that because now I am.
My trip to Weston on Trent this time last week was joyous. Ditto my visit to Alrewas on Friday. These two audiences have set the bar so high in terms of appreciation, I feel that I am doomed to disappointment henceforth.
The day after Weston on Trent my car suffered a blow out on the M40. Bit of a pain, but noone got hurt and I considered myself lucky that it hadn't happened en route to Weston. With a carful of sound and lighting equipment, props and costumes, it would have been a pain to unload all of that beside the road and then change a wheel in the dark. Impossible actually. Lucky me that it happened the next day.
Alrewas was a dream night. I love the place and everyone in it. Such was my joy as I left that with a carefree gesture I threw my hatstand into the boot and it snapped in half. Once again I counted myself lucky that this hadn't just before the show. The hatstand is a crucial prop. I'd have been in trouble if it had broken just before a performance.
The following day I set off to Bulkington, rather uneasy in the knowledge that incidences of bad luck often happen in threes. As I left the house my handmirror fell out of my bag and smashed on the floor. This was a nuisance in itself. So, phew, the three things had happened. Bit of a pain to have to go and get another mirror. Bit worrying that a broken mirror often portends seven years' bad luck. But, I reasoned to myself, there's not much else that can go wrong now. Noone can actually sabotage the show itself because that's in my head. As long as I'm not decapitated, it'll be OK.
So Toby (young techie) and I arrived in Bulkington and were delighted to discover that the venue had its own inbuilt sound and lighting system. Things were definitely starting to go my way. This saved us the bother of having to lug our own PA system and lights inside and spend a couple of hours setting them up. We'd be able to leave my equipment in the car and drink tea and eat biscuits instead.
I did the show. It went fine and then I idled a while away in conversation with two lovely members of the audience, knowing that there wasn't a long get-out (a technical term for getting out). Eventually I got out to the car. Odd thing. It was unlocked. I never leave the car unlocked - especially when there's a thousand quid's worth of sound and lighting equipment in there waiting to be taken home. Only that was it - there wasn't - a thousand quid's worth of equipment in the car any more. Some vile and loathsome person had broken into the car and nicked it during the show. Oh hateful, mean and dishonest creature! You have upset me. You won't be reading this, I know, but if you were I would want you to know that I thoroughly dislike you. But, ha ha, I can have a bit of a laugh because you didn't take the actual lights - too heavy for you were they? Quite what you are going to do with everything you need in order to make lights work (cables, dimmers, faders, connectors etc etc) but no lights, I don't know. Not really my problem is it? I'm after you though. I know you're right handed because you took my right glove (little hands a bit cold, were they?) and I know you'd been in the mud (all over the car). It's only a matter of time. Keep looking over your shoulder.
But I do feel a little jinxed now. Within the course of one week the car, a prop, a mirror and now all my technical equipment have been sabotaged by bad luck. The script is the only thing that hasn't yet been targetted because that is in my head. I wish it were somewhere less important. Either a beheading or total memory loss is surely imminent.
