Something definitely happens to men around middle age.
It strikes at different times, so is impossible to predict whether it hits at thirty or even sixty.
But the hormones start playing up.
Or something does.

You can spot them a mile off.
They're moaning about something which to them seems very important and significant but which leaves everyone else shaking their heads and saying 'get over it'.
They tut and sigh over the slightest impediment to their progress either as a pedestrian or motorist.
They suddenly believe with chilling certainty that they are right, that they are funny, and that young women must fancy them.

Of course, this will never happen to me.
It hasn't yet.

But if and when it does, would one of you mind shooting me?

I'll leave this thought with you.
I wish I could claim to have read the Tractatus but alas I found this on the internet.

I picked this out because it is what I have always believed.

Was denkbar ist, ist auch möglich.
[What is thinkable is also possible.]

Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1921)

I've got a good part (no, please!) in The Visit, which is a brilliant play.
I don't want to say when and where it is on because that means I won't be able to tell you the backstage secrets.
You'll just have to trust me.
But I'll be working with a whole new bunch of people and I get to have a long snog with the leading lady on stage, so that can't be bad.

Huge amount of lines to learn, so I'm working my way through it now.

If you're interested in more detail about plays and the theatre generally, I've set up a theatregroup under groups elsewhere on blog.co.uk
Feel free to visit!

Word perfect performance by everyone for the last night, and loads of the usual hugs and backslaps and handshakes
that symbolise the great team spirit we had.
I can't believe there'll ever be a better bunch of people together as we had for this play.
The party went on till 5.30am, but not for me.
Mrs Thespian stayed sober at home all night just so she could come and pick me up at 1am - only to find me flinging myself round on
stage with a gang of girls, pathetically trying to do dances that you won't see in the ballroom.
One of the co-directors cried - but she always does.

I am now experiencing a pleasant blend of pleasure that I did well, pleasure that the play is over, and sadness at the thought that
I'll never work with the same team again.

But - onwards and upwards!

Today, I did an audition and have got a starring role in The Visit - a fantastic play.

Thanks to you for reading my outpourings about the crucible.

But it's the final curtain.
At last!

I'm probably the last person in the whole of blogland to do seven quirky facts about me.

1.  My eyesight was so bad when I was little I sometimes got on the wrong bus and was very late for school.

2.  I've always done lots of sport - running, football, squash, tennis, cricket - but now I can only cycle because I had an operation to fix my left leg.

3.  I got carried away when I was living in digs a long time ago and had a full English breakfast for a week.  Then got really bad gut ache.  So I take all that stuff about the damage eating McDonalds can do with a pinch of fat.  If you overdo anything, you'll be ill.

4. I love and respect older people - except the ones who knock me out of the way in the supermarket - and think the State should look after them much better.

5. I have a strange birthmark - a cluster of about one million freckles - somewhere about my person.

6. I played truant from skiing lessons on a school trip so I could go drinking instead.

7. I've written a crime novel (unpublished as yet),  a one act play (never performed as yet) and lots of poems (not published as yet).

Sorry, but i'm not tagging anyone else because I'm sure you've all done it.
But if you haven't - please feel free to have a go!

Last two performances coming up - tonight and the last night, tomorrow.
We've had pretty full houses every night.
There was a strange lot in last night - they even laughed at a particularly tense moment in Act 3.
Maybe they were just nervous but it was a bit disconcerting.

My fellow thespian continues to forget lines - different ones every time.
My shoe hasn't fallen apart again yet, and I have been happy with myself.

I will be doing an audition for another role on Sunday.
Tell you about that another time.

Must go - lights, sound, make-up, mood music, stupid hat ...

We are getting lots of good feedback about the play, and I'm getting a fair share of slaps on the back, too, which is doing a lot for my confidence.

The interesting stuff is around how you cope when someone misses a line or forgets it completely.
It's happened at a different point of the play every night so far.
Last night, we ended up skipping two minutes of dialogue because someone got lost (can't name names, obviously, but it wasn't me!).

One of the actors messes me up at least once every night, and never in the same place, so I'm trying to memorise his lines now so I can always cover up the tracks.

Bit of a scare on Thursday night when the heel of my right boot came off.  The costume department came up with a bottle of evo stick and some brown tape but the heel was still flapping about.  It has now been repaired with the aid of a large quantity of sticky stuff, several blocks of wood, and a  g-cramp.

I've got a couple of days off now, then we're off again.
The run ends on Saturday night.

I already know I'm going to miss everyone when it ends.
It's a strong play and it brings everyone together because we all need to put so much into it every night.

Now I'm looking forward to a lazy day consisting of reading a book, riding my motorbike, stoking up the woodburner and curling up on the sofa with Mrs Thespian to watch an old movie.

See you soon!

I was stonkingly good in the first dress rehearsal last night, although I say it myself.
I got my lines, cues and movements spot on.

The costume fits and I rather think I will have to put in a bid for the suede lace up boots that the costume department dug out for me.

My only slight problem was that I spat a bit on a fellow thespian as I was yelling abuse at him.
The victim was Reverend Hale, but I don't care - he deserves it for being so spineless.

The drama and quality of the play is now shining through, thank goodness.

Second dress rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, final on Tuesday.
First night Wednesday

Oh.
Did I tell you that we are currently over running our time by 20 minutes?
It's almost completely down to the fact that some people are not picking up their cues quickly enough and are
pausing for thought when they should be firing off their lines.
We're hoping to prune that down tomorrow.