What is your claim to fame?
That one moment in life when it happens, you just know that you are going to dine out on it for years. A chance meeting with a celebrity? Yeah, it tends to involve someone famous, with a selfie as proof.
For me? Easy one. I once performed stand-up comedy to Kermit the Frog and a few of his pals. Seriously.
About eight years ago I realised a lifelong ambition; to follow in the footsteps of the legend that is Sir Billy Connolly and perform a stand-up routine.
I was providing business support to a local theatre in Halifax (Actors Workshop) and the chap mentioned he was launching a comedy evening.
So, I asked if I could have a slot. I’ll never forget the look on his face. Anyway, through his shocked demeanour, he said yes.
“Would 20 minutes be ok?” he enquired.
“No, can you give me 40 please”
“A 40-minute stint for a debut?”, he asked, rather surprised.
“Yes please.”
Wonderful. I started writing. Bringing lots of little stories and anecdotes together, the words easily flowed from the pen and before I knew it, I had pages worth of material.
Now, I needed to rehearse. My wife offered to be my audience. I couldn’t do that; perform to just one person, for 40 minutes. No. But then I had a brainwave. I rushed upstairs and gathered together all the teddies and soft toys I could find. Including Kermit.
Returning to the living room, I strategically placed each and every toy along the sofa. Taking my position of centre stage in the room, off I went, performing my routine to my newly created audience.
Yes, I had a couple of false starts but they were a lovely, appreciated bunch. Come to think of it, I think Peppa Pig was there too.
I had nipped out when my wife returned home. Imagine what was going through her mind, seeing my comedy notes on the floor and Kermit and his pals lined up, side by side, on the couch. “Perfectly normal behaviour”, I informed her on my return.
Anyway, the big night came and I had chosen The Proclaimers ‘500 Miles’ as my entry to stage. A packed theatre, with just over 100 in attendance.
The compere did his thing, followed by the first comedian. A short break, then the music started and on I went. Covering topics ranging from Yorkshire fish and chips shops, to finding porn magazines as a wee boy growing up in Port Glasgow, my 8 month pregnant wife’s waters close to breaking with worry.
And guess what? I was word perfect for the whole set. Standing ovation at the end. Roses thrown and I loved every minute of it.
I went on to deliver a few more gigs, including a charity event for Lloyds Bank, performing in front of 120 work colleagues. As Sir Billy would say, it was like ‘singing to your auntie’.
My last gig was at Morley Festival in Leeds, which went down a storm but only after I made a dramatic entry by falling off the stage at the start. Heh, it got a laugh, I suppose.
One day I will return, make my comeback. I have one left in me. And kermit is still at home, ready to bring his pals together and help me along my way.
For just one last time.
