Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [293]
Back home, it’s very cold and there’s a letter awaiting from Bryon Parkin1 – the carbon of a letter to Lome confirming that there is no way two of the Ripping Yarns can be sold to NBC for a special, as the contract with PBS has gone ahead.
Thursday, August 31st
Down to 2 PSW for all-day session of rehearsal. Feel drained physically by five, when we break.
In the evening I try to rally my flagging resources to write letters, etc, and to think sensibly about the consequences of Bryon Parkin’s letter about the Yarns. Lome rings – he’s equally depressed at the news, will call again in a week’s time … We confirm once again the ‘intent to work together’. Though when I stop and think about it, I’ve altered my perspective slightly after the stay in France. My scheme to retire at 40 and write and travel (write travel books – but decent, original, bright, funny ones) has been thrust well to the fore, the BBC has gone right to the bottom of the list and Python and Lome float somewhere in between.
Saturday, September 2nd
I take William down to Covent Garden, where they’re holding a two-day street festival. A genial, scruffy bunch of folk selling a lot of wholemeal bread and entertaining noisily and a little desperately in the shadow of the two big new office blocks that are rising up around them – showing that money, not good intentions, is still boss in Covent Garden, as in any other part of London.
But for the moment what’s left of the Alternative Society is all here today, and I even catch a nostalgic whiff of grass – a smell of ten years ago, when people like this had never really been seen on the streets of London before. The middle classes letting their hair down and coping, in one way, with all the guilt their parents left them.
Thursday, September 7th
To Redwood by eleven to record a radio commercial – the first I’ve done for a couple of years. It was an anti-smoking radio commercial made (on a pittance, of course) for the Scottish Health Council. I had asked Charles McKeown’ to come along and do it with me. Tony Herz of Radio Operators had written and was producing it. It’s one of several in the campaign, part of an impossibly uphill struggle to try and make non-smoking as glamorous as smoking appears to be.
From Redwood down through Covent Garden and along Fleet Street to the offices of Methuen.
I talked myself rather rapidly into a one week book-signing, radio and TV promo-tour at the end of November. Suggested that we had a theme for the tour that was pertinent to the book – something like an expedition. This was eagerly taken up by Jan Hopcraft [the publicity manager], and hardened into Round Britain By Frog – the Palin/Jones expedition to British bookshops 1978. I hope this won’t sound too wet by November. But I made them promise to avoid extreme efforts at wackiness.
Saw some proofs of the book (artwork included) – enough to give me encouragement that at least we will be publicising and signing a well-made article. Will anybody come along, though? Nightmare vision of sitting in bookshops waiting for someone, having to resort to low methods of accosting passers-by.
To Robin Simmons for a quick Alexander reminder. Already feel myself tending to stiffen up in anticipation of the excitement of Tunisia, so must remember what I’ve learnt.
Sunday, September 10th
As a result of having time last week to plan for Le Grand Depart, this morning’s leave-taking is easier, emotionally and physically, than some I can remember.
It’s almost a psychic phenomenon, my departures, for some sixth sense seems to inform the ‘villagers’ that something is about to happen and, as I try discreetly to slip away, doors open and cars drive up and the place is soon like a stadium. Today they weren’t let down. An enormous American limousine, of the low, interminably long, black New York variety, swung into the village, and out stepped Dr Chapman in immaculate light grey suit, and matching