EDitorial ± 14-Oct-2013
Bug Me Not
Adam and Joe. Heroes, obviously. Though not together an awful lot at the mo' due to Cornballs striking it big in the world of film. Shame, since their 6Music podcasts have been a joy and very nearly life-sustaining on some arduous car journeys. Less up to Ikea, more down to Italy.
While Head-In-The-Clouds swans around Bel Air, hairy Count Buckulees may be spotted closer to the Broads: he's a Norwich man these days. For the last five years or so, he's been presenting BUG, an evening of music videos interspersed with non-enlightened YouTube comments. New editions of the show, now up to BUG14, are to be found regularly at the BFI Southbank. Closer to home and within easier driving distance is the Norwich Playhouse, and that's where we're headed to catch The Mighty Beard.
It's not the greatest start, me leaving work a bit late. Then the wind's against me and I'm texted to bring in some chips. I'm home at 6:30pm. The show starts at 8pm and we haven't yet eaten. Tickets are reserved and are for two seats on the front row. It's not going well.
Into the car at 6:50pm and G's telling me we'll be late. I, though, retain my super-optimistic la-la-la approach. We'll be fine. I put my foot down, powering through the rain and onto the start of the A140. We're making good time despite the 50/30/40 pick-a-number speed changes. Then we get behind a slow-moving lorry and even I'm finding it hard to sustain my aura of denial. He turns off and we get motoring again. There's no music in the car. That would spoil the hi-tension atmosphere.
Around Newton Flotman, I stick on the phone sat-nav since -- and this won't help -- neither of us really knows where the Playhouse is. I've had a tiny bit of forethought and punched in their postcode. Come on, Nokia Maps, give us a sign. ETA 19:54, says the display. Yes! Two minutes later and we're slowing. ETA 19:55, it now reads. No!
At 19:56, on an unknown street, the nice lady says that we've reached our destination. I do not see our destination. A passing pedestrian points over the bridge: go on ahead, I say, get our seats and I'll park. G walks off, I park and run, taking my seat as Adam bounds on stage. I hate to be early.