Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [313]
Afterwards I’m presented with a special brick and sign endless autographs. I have to stay and judge the cabaret acts, which is an impossible task as I can’t hear or see anything. About 12.30 they’re mercifully over and I make my judgement and present the winner with his trophy – a stainless steel bedpan with a plastic turd in it.
To think our life is in their hands.
Monday, December 11th
Visit the Royal Geographical Society, of which, thanks to Peter Luff1, I am now a Fellow. Complete peace and quiet, in a very avant-garde house, built in 1874 by Norman Shaw facing Hyde Park.
To me, the place was like Nirvana – for my earliest ambition, which endured for many years, was to be an explorer. And here I was, Fellow of a society set up in 1830, which has on display Charles Darwin’s application for membership dated 1838.
Tuesday, December 12th
Down to Neal’s Yard. Hive of activity. Val Charlton2 and Terry Gilliam are making Martians upstairs for the interior of the Flying Saucer in Brian, next door Terry J is editing and in the studio André has put together a demo of the new Brian song.
Walk through rainwashed Leicester Square. Pick up tickets for the Superman film on Saturday and Dame Edna’s new show, which opens tomorrow night.
Home to work on the Yarn with TJ.
Then Chris Orr arrives and I’m discussing with him the arrangements for further work on his ‘Arthur’ book (the revised, shorter version of which I like very much), when Roger Wilmut, a BBC sound engineer who’s doing a book on the Oxbridge revue and comedy Mafia, arrives.
Juggle all these people around and cope with a constant barrage of phone calls and am finally left talking to Wilmut about How It All Began. I’ve never felt less like talking about How It All Began – the whole madhouse here is more indicative of How It All Will End.
Sunday, December 17th
Ian and Anthea and Clemency and growing, toddling Grace,3 come round for roast lamb and apple crumble lunch. In the interval of one Barry Humphries show last week, Ian was up in the bar and overheard snippets of conversation between two people. One was accusing the other of’sighing’. ‘I wasn’t sighing.” Yes you were, you were sitting there sighing all through it.’The other then produced the sharp rejoinder ‘Don’t be so combative.’ Ian noted the whole exchange and, when he went back to Barry’s dressing room, told him of it.
He couldn’t believe his ears when, half-way through Edna’s monologue to a packed 1,500-strong house, Edna told of how she couldn’t take Norm to the theatre because he’d just sit there and sigh, and eventually become very ‘combatative’. Afterwards Barry said he’d slipped it in because of his enjoyment of the effect it would have on just two people. As Barry put it, it would make, for them, a truly ‘uncanny’ night in the theatre.
Wednesday, December 20th
Morose, east wind weather. Grey and with drizzle just this side of snow.
A power-cut yesterday blacked out the whole of France (bar Alsace).
London is full of queues at petrol stations because of rumours that there will be a tanker drivers’ go-slow in January. All in all it’s siege conditions again …
As the days get shorter and colder and darker a sort of pessimistic gloom descends. The next three months are low points for everybody, when our technology can’t quite cope and our ‘civilised society’ shows alarming cracks.
I cheer myself up writing copy for J Goldstone’s Variety ads for Brian. Reread the ‘Whinfrey’ script and tighten. It looks good, but I wish the uncertainty over the rest of the Yarns and the director could be sorted out, for I feel like writing now and yet if it’s to be top priority I need to know who’s doing them and when.
Thursday, December 21st
Goldstone rings. He’s very pleased with the Variety ad copy – it’s going into early Jan or mid-Jan issue. His plan is to create as much of a stir as possible inside the US before showing the assembly to distributors in late January. It’s essential to arrange a US distribution deal at least six or seven months in advance in order to