You know that expression, “no show without Punch”? Well, once upon a time I think that could have referred to me.
No invitation would be spurned, no opening of an envelope passed by and my diet probably consisted of slightly chilled prosecco and canapés.
However, these days half the time I can’t be bothered raising my carcass from the sofa of an evening. There has to be something else.
On Monday the producer of the talk by Stephen Fry at the Festival Theatre asked me to go with him. A night out at the beginning of the week? I was thinking about it when he said he’d be taking me out for supper afterwards. That clinched it.
At supper we were joined by several people including Ed & Charlie, who I laughingly still refer to as the Underbelly boys (they are both fathers themselves these days). They asked if I was coming to the launch of their Edinburgh’s Christmas programme the following morning. Tuesday morning? I would have to consider that and where it would fit around walking the dogs.
“There will be bacon rolls and Drambuie,” they insisted. So at 10am the following morning I was entering the portals of the magnificent Assembly Rooms. As the chaps rabbited on about the fabulous programme I tried to peer through the crowds for the bacon rolls which I had not only been promised, but on which I could see others munching.
Suddenly, the music was turned up and the stage was aflutter with massive white feathers from behind which some rather buff and well groomed young men appeared. The cast of the show, Briefs, which will be performing in December in St Andrew Square, were performing a little preview and within minutes they were down to some luminous underpants. All thoughts of bacon rolls vanished from my mind.
I left the building blinking into the late September sun when I realised I hadn’t seen any Drambuie either. Mind you, I did have rather a lovely image to see me through the day.