A tiny ray of light amidst the dark and swirling maelstrom that is the Edinburgh Fringe is my annual game of celeb spotting. Occasionally, among the throng, I catch sight of someone off tv or radio. I haven’t done too well in the last few years but this year my count is already up to 3: a bloke off Radio 4 who I don't find very funny; a bloke who's sometimes on 'mock the week' who I don't find very funny; and Rich Hall! RICH HALL, I tell you. He was crossing George Street looking just as baggy and sad as he does on tv.
The small amusement I get from this game in no way makes up for the overall horror of the Fringe experience for me. Rolley likened this to when cattle industry people invade his town. However, imagine if you will, that it is not the wide hatted ranchers filling the streets but the cattle themselves. Roaming the town in vast, slow moving herds, stopping suddenly to graze or just to gaze at nothing. Now imagine that some of those cows can juggle… No. Wait that makes it sound too interesting. Too much fun.
Juggling is not hard. I can juggle. But I choose to indulge in this hobby only in the privacy of my own home. I do not inflict it on strangers nor try to guilt then into giving me their cash.
I'm sorry. I've had a hard day.