Volunteer

In the late eighties, a hypnotist called Andrew Newton used to make regular performances at the Royal Court in Liverpool. One Saturday evening, I went along with some of my university friends. As with most people attending, we were careful not to sit at the front; nobody wants to be a volunteer on these occasions. Mr Newton came on stage and started his act, which involved us following a set of instructions from our seats. One of the instructions was to stand up, which Ash, Ian and I did, only to find we were in a minority within the audience.

We were then required to go up on stage, which we did. Mr Newton wandered along the ranks of innocents, all with their hands clasped in front of them (one of the earlier instructions). He looked me in the eye for a moment before sending me back to my seat. He then did the same with Ash but held on to Ian along with about thirty others who were to be our source of entertainment for the evening.

However, that one accidental involvement aside, I am not a keen volunteer for this kind of thing (unlike my son, Dan, who thinks that assisting magicians and their ilk is an absolute treat). Today, though, when I went along with my friend Alan to see the 'Gledhill and Callaghan' show at the Pilgrim in Edinburgh*, I entered late and was encouraged to sit right at the front. It became clear early on that there was to be audience participation and it seemed unlikely that this wouldn't involve me. And, indeed, I found myself playing the part of Adam in the story of the garden of Eden. Funnily enough, I rather enjoyed myself.

And that might be why, at Luke McQueen's show this evening, I was less reluctant to get to my feet when it became evident that someone from the audience needed to get the show started. Initially, this seemed no more complicated than pressing 'play' on a boombox but, after encouraging shouts from the seated (and, to be frank, less involved) members of the audience, I gathered that I needed to feed Luke, too. There was a tin of baked beans and a spoon available but as his teeth were gritted, I ended up using my fingers to push beans into his cheeks. It was actually more fun than it sounds.

Luke's show, it must be said, was nowhere near as funny as the shows by Amy Gledhill and David Callaghan, which had me properly laughing and which I'd highly recommend. 'Now that's what I call Luke McQueen' is a different beast: sort of funny but quite confrontational and a few people left as the show progressed (which is painfully obvious in a smallish performance space). That said, David, who is a keen and interesting student of comedy seemed to enjoy it enormously, so it is quite possible that it had some quality that passed me by. I wouldn't say I didn't enjoy it but I'd be hard-pressed to find a reason to recommend it.

Anyway, there you go: cowardly me taking a limited part in two Fringe shows in one day. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not me!

*This is their Fringe show. It is excellent and is on daily at 3pm, until the 23rd of August.

PS As my camera is still at the Minx's house, I took this photo using my DSLR from Charlie's flat, just south of the Meadows. I don't know of anywhere else in Britain that looks like this; to me, it's uniquely Edinburgh.