Summit Funny gig fitting tribute to a giant of Scottish comedy
The Scottish comedy scene is still reeling from the tragic news a week ago about the death of one of our own, the inimitable Gary Little. He was killed as the result of a fall while out hillwalking on the Five Sisters of Kintail.
We are a pretty tight-knit bunch in Scottish comedy, and we look out for one another in hard times, so the shock of Gary’s passing hit like a punch in the gut. Its sobering effect in the middle of the Fringe was bordering on surreal. We were partying and enjoying our happiest time of the year one minute, and then plunged into mourning the next. It had the same feeling as a death in the family on Christmas Day.
I had known Gary Little ever since he took his first steps in stand-up, but even in those early days I could tell that he was destined to do well in our business. The guy was a true force of nature, a one-off who redefined the phrase “larger than life”. To appreciate this, one has to know Gary’s back story.
He had just been released from a lengthy stint at Her Majesty’s pleasure when he first tried his hand at stand-up. Comedy turned out to be the big man’s redemption. He resisted all offers from former mates to return to a life of crime, and was determined to go straight.
This he did, aside from one well-publicised blip. In the mid-noughties, he was juggling his nascent comedy career with a day job at Harper Collins publishers, who were at the time owned by the Murdoch Corporation. He was unable to resist the temptation to steal a pallet of Harry Potter books, which he then sold on e-Bay. In my view, anyone who rips off Rupert Murdoch and JK Rowling in one fell swoop is a hero of the people, a latter-day Robin Hood. However, the judge did not share this opinion and Gary did another brief spell inside. But it didn’t derail this comedy rollercoaster.
Gary took to our craft like a duck to water. His huge stage presence and his intense stare made him compelling to watch. I never knew of any audience member brave enough to heckle him. But despite the hard man image, deep down Gary was a gentle soul. He loved his dogs and his rescue chickens. And he had a huge passion for the mountains of the Highlands and became a keen Munro bagger.
Some years ago, I was part of an unusual event called Summit Funny. A group of us, including Gary, walked up Ben Lomond. At the peak, we set up a mobile PA system and did an outdoor comedy gig to a fairly large audience of folk who had all made the hike alongside us. It is a day which will stay forever in my memory.
The promoter of the Ben Lomond gig, with the blessing of the Little family, is going to resurrect Summit Funny, with all proceeds going to mountain rescue. I can think of no more fitting a tribute to a giant of Scottish comedy. Having a laugh up a mountain is how he would want to be remembered. Rest in peace, Gary Little. Gone but never forgotten.