Perfect Preparation? Perhaps Not!

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Byers'Choice, Charles Dickens, Covid19, Doctor Marigold, Ebenezer Scrooge, Formula One, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Sikes and Nancy, The Signalman, Uber Eats, Ventfort Hall Mansion

Sunday 5 December saw my second day in The Berkshires and with one show at 3 o’clock it meant that there was a quiet morning in store. Maybe I could take a drive into the mountains, maybe I could explore some of the delightful neighbouring towns and villages, maybe I could breathe in the cold, clear, unpoluted air. No! There was a Grand Prix to watch! The TV coverage from Jeddah would begin at 11 am, and I had a little bit of housekeeping to do before then. Having bought breakfast (a yoghurt, granola and fruit collation, along with a muffin, orange juice and coffee), from the little Starbucks Cafe that the Courtyard hotels favour, I piled a load of laundry into a machine, and then took the car to a nearby grocery store to buy myself some lunch, as well as picking up a few other essentials.

As I drove back to the hotel, I noticed a signpost to ‘The Pleasant Valley Nature Reserve’, and apart from immediately breaking into my best Monkees impression, I thought that it sounded like a perfect way to spend a day off, as I would have on Monday.

I moved my laundry into the dryer, had another coffee and then settled down to watch the Formula One coverage. I know that this blog isn’t a Grand Prix fan site, but the events from Saudi Arabia did dominate my morning, so I can’t skip over it completely, but I promise I will not turn into an F1 journalist. The tension and excitement for the race, and the championship (this being the penultimate weekend) was obvious as soon as the coverage began, but before any action occurred there was a very moving tribute to the former team owner Frank Williams, who died last week. As all of the drivers and team members gathered around a large photo of Williams on the track, and a video compilation of his extraordinary career was shown, it was as if the current combatants were being told ‘honour him, perform to the standards that he would have performed to: win, but win well.’ It was a lesson that they should have heeded.

As the race time got closer, I popped my chicken and pasta dish into the microwave and settled down to watch. The start of the race passed without much incident, with Britain’s Lewis Hamilton leading easily and his great young Dutch rival, Max Verstappen stuck back in third, but then another driver crashed, and the race was stopped. Due to various decisions made by the two main teams, things were about to get spicey and at times downright dirty. Unfortunately for me, the delays to the race meant that I wouldn’t be able to watch it to its conclusion, as I actually had a show to do!

I continued listening to the coverage via my phone, until I once again pulled up at Ventfort Hall, where in the parking lot I was greeted by an audience member, who had arrived very early, saying ‘You must be Mr Dickens, I recognise you from your picture. Good luck today!’ That was very nice way to arrive and reminded me that I was there to entertain.

In the house Hayley and Chris were making the preparations for the afternoon and I checked that all of the furniture and props were in the right place, before retiring to my spacious dressing room, where I once again put the race coverage on as I dressed. Eventually, Lewis Hamilton emerged triumphant, with Max in 2nd place, but it didn’t sound a nice race with everyone playing every underhand trick that they could to gain an advantage. There was dangerous driving, there was bizarre driving, there was winging from the teams to the race director, who, in turn, sounded confused and weak, bartering with the Red Bull team over the severity of a particular penalty. Although incredibly exciting, it didn’t show F1 to the world in a good light. The final upshot was that Lewis and Max go into the final race next weekend absolutely level on points.

Fortunately, the race finished at around 2.20, which meant I had time to re-adjust my priorities and to become an actor again. Having got into costume and checked all of the things that had to be checked (watch wound, penny in waistcoat pocket, etc) I went and sat on the landing, looking down into the hall as the audience gathered. There was a very obvious sense of excitement and plenty of noise, and I soaked it up.

At 2.55 I creaked down the wooden staircase and Hayley confirmed that everyone had arrived, and that we were good to go. Chris sat at his laptop, ready to play the music cue, and Hayley welcomed everyone before starting the show. Straight away I could tell that this was a fun audience, they responded to everything from the very start (the first moment in the script that I can tell how a performance is going to go is when the narrator says ‘mind, I don’t mean to say that I know what there is particularly dead about a doornail….’ On this occasion they took the hint and laughed, obviously understanding that they were expected to be, and allowed to be, part of the show). We all had great fun, and it was a very satisfying performance. I had, quite naturally, been worried that my build-up to the show was not a conventional one and I might not have prepared myself well, but my fears were unfounded – I did a good job!

The Q&A was also fun, and there were some very good questions and lot of to-and-fro conversation, that makes sessions like this such a joy. After a while I became aware of Hayley hovering at the back of the room and knowing that pots of tea had been brewed and would be in danger of getting cold and stewed, I started to bring the session to an end, but there was one last question: ‘Is this your first time to The Berkshires?’ ‘No, it is my third visit, and I love it here!’, which got a loud round of applause and was a perfect time to sign off. There is indeed something very beautiful about the area, not just the scenery, but the community as well: it is a special place, and I would very much like to return during the summer months to perform some of my other shows: The Signalman would work well at Ventfort, as would Marigold and Sikes & Nancy. I know other venues would be interested in ‘out of season’ shows, so it would be lovely to try and put something together one day.

As the guests piled their plates high, I returned to my upstairs room and sat at my little table to eat my tea, before changing. I gathered up all of my belongings and went downstairs where I found Hayley and Chris to say goodbye, and to thank them for being such amazing colleagues over the last two days, and then I drove back to the hotel.

I had a quiet evening in, and at around 7 I logged on to my Uber Eats app and ordered a pizza from a nearby restaurant. I love going out and dining in restaurants, but the importance of remaining healthy and safe is paramount at the moment. It looks as if things are ramping up in Britain again, and the government has changed the regulations for entering the country yet again, meaning that the second Covid test, the PCR, that I purchased last week is also now redundant and I will have to have a test in the USA before I am allowed to fly home. With no idea as to how to get a test here I had earlier emailed Bob Byers, who had replied that he was looking into it on my behalf. It looks as if we will have to book something on my route from Lewes, Delaware to Byers’ Choice in Pennsylvania (the test has to be done within two days of flying), and this just adds a new logistical challenge to the end of the tour.

I watched a bit of TV, but felt myself nodding off, so retired for an early night.

On Monday I have a travel day with no shows and no commitments, and I think that the Pleasant Valley Nature Reserve sounds like an excellent way to relax!

The Thin Blue Line

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Courtyard by Marriott, Ebenezer Scrooge, Marriott Hotels, The Berkshires, Ventfort Hall Mansion

I woke up in my Comfort Inn in Manchester not at 3am, or 4am, but I actually made it to 6 for the first time on the trip! I had been woken to the sound of a car alarm sounding in the parking lot, and I vaguely had a memory of hearing a similar alarm at a previous hotel which rather worryingly suggested that it might have been my car.

Saturday morning would be taken up with driving to The Berkshires, the beautiful mountain region in western Massachusetts, and it looked as if it were going to be another amazing day to drive, with clear skies and a light frost on the ground. Before leaving I had time to watch some more practice from the Grand Prix and as soon as the session was over, I checked out and got on the road.

For audio accompaniment on this trip, I listened to a series of podcasts about the forthcoming Ashes cricket series. I hope that my English readers will forgive me for a moment, while I explain about The Ashes. The greatest rivalry within the international cricket calendar is that between the Australian team and the English team, which dates back to 1882 when the Aussies first beat England on British soil. On the next day an obituary to English cricket was published in The Times newspaper and the wooden bails (part of the equipment used during the match) were burned and the ashes placed in a tiny ceramic urn. Ever since that little urn has been the trophy that the two nations have played for. An Ashes series only comes around once every few years, alternating between England and Australia, and in the winter of ’21, ’22 the series is being played in the Southern hemisphere, where England have only won once in the last 34 years. The podcast was made by the BBC cricket correspondent and delved into all of the preparations inherent in sending a team to the land down under and was a very interesting listen.

My route took me back towards Boston and then skirting to the west of the city I drove straight back through Worcester where I was just a week before, and once again admired the beautiful old railroad station with its twin white towers making it look like the old Wembly football stadium in London.

Worcester Railroad Station

The Old Wembly Stadium, London

The views as I progressed west became ever more spectacular, with dark lakes shimmering with a thin skim of ice on the surface. The traffic became less, and the mountains appeared on the horizon. After two and a half hours of driving I left the freeway and took the route signposted for ‘The Berkshires’ and soon was driving through the pretty town of Lee and on towards Lenox. By this time the final qualifying session for the Formula 1 Grand Prix was starting, and I was able to listen to the radio coverage, via the F1 App on my phone connected to the car’s audio system: it is amazing what we take for granted now and how technology has advanced during my years of touring (remembering the old days of trying to connect a large heavy laptop to a modem, and enduring the whining, beeping and screeching of the dial-up connection). On the final miles of my drive, I listened to the first two thirds of the action until I pulled up outside The Courtyard by Marriott in Lenox.

As I unloaded my bags, I suddenly realised how much I have relied on Marriott during this tour. Not only have I stayed in hotels run by the company in Long Island, Nashua and now here in Lenox, but also my PCR Covid test was conducted in a Courtyard hotel in Oxford, before I left England.

I checked in as quickly as I could and then rushed up to the room to catch the final moments of qualifying on the TV, and I wasn’t to be disappointed as it came to a thrilling climax, with one of the two drivers still fighting for the World Championship crashing out at the very final corner of the very final lap.

I didn’t have much time in the hotel as it was now 1pm and I had to be at my next venue at 1.30. I quickly ate a chicken salad (which Joe had bought for me before the show in Manchester, but which I had not eaten, and it had remained well refrigerated in the car overnight), gathered my belongings and hurried out, not forgetting to take the little carboard sleeve that my room keys were held in, for I have reached that time of the trip where I struggle to remember not only the number of my room, but even the floor I am on!

My venue in Lenox is Ventfort Hall, a beautiful mansion built at the end of the 19th Century for Sarah Morgan, who was the sister of J Pierpont Morgan, which is an interesting connection in itself, in that the original handwritten manuscript of A Christmas Carol was purchased by Morgan and is annualy displayed in the library bearing his name in New York City. I have performed at Ventfort on two previous occasions, and it is a great venue, with the ambience of the small and elegant room really adding something to the storytelling – actually, it is very simmilar to the General Crook House in Omaha. In previous years we have seated an audience of 80 in the little parlour, packed hard in with not an inch of space left. But this year, due to Covid, the audience numbers had been reduced and the seats spaced out. I was greeted by Haley who looks after the running of the house and who has a background in theatrical stage managegement, and she ran through the precautions with me. The audience would all be masked and would all be required to show their vaccination certificate before admission. On the stage, or at least, on the floor at the end of the room where I was performing, she had stuck a line of blue tape, which marked 6 feet from the front row, and that was my ‘acting line’. I placed the props, having changed a very elegant and obviously antique chair for one that I could stand on. When the stage was ready, I introduced to Chris who would be operating my sound cues. Chris had also supplied the wooden stool for the set, from his own home, so I asked him if it was ok to knock on it with my wooden cane, for that tends to leave little indentations, and he said he would be delighted and honoured to have such a souvenir of the show in his house!

The view from the blue line, with Chris’s stool in the foreground.

It was getting towards 2.15 now and some of the first guests were beginning to arrive, so I retired to my ‘dressing room’, which is in fact the room where Sarah Morgan dressed. I had a chaise longue at my disposal, and a table laid with a bottle of champagne and a plate of strawberries (all fake, unfortunately!)

I changed into my costume and waited for the 3pm start time, and when Hayley gave me the word, I went into the great hall ready to walk through the audience and to begin.

It was strange experience to be in a room of fully masked people without wearing one myself, and I half wondered if I should have done the show masked, but there is no way that could have worked. I made sure that I remained behind my blue line as much as I could (which led to a somewhat linear performance).

The audience were a little quiet at first, maybe sharing my uncertainties about being in this confined space together, but soon the atmosphere began to lighten, and laughter filled the little parlour, and at the end as I took my bows the 50 strong audience stood and cheered.

We had a short Q&A session and then the audience left the room to have an elegant tea at tables spread throughout the house. Usually I would join them, but this year I returned to my changing room, where I noticed a plate of cakes, sandwiches and fancies had been left for me – they were on the table next to the champagne and strawberries, so I had to check that they were, in fact, real; and they were, deliciously real.

I changed back into my normal clothes and slipped out of the house in as inconspicuous manner as I could manage considering I was wearing a bright red Christmas sweater, and drove back to my hotel admiring the Christmas lights which decorated the town of Lenox.

I was due to be taken out to dinner in the evening and Hayley had offered to pick me up at 7 o’clock. There was light snow flurrying in the air and my beanie hat and gloves were still in the car, which sat glowing richly in the winter night.

Fully wrapped up against the chill of the evening I waited for Hayley who arrived bang on time, and we drove to the nearby town of Great Barrington where we joined Alice, Patrick and Stephen in ’10’, a restaurant specialising in steaks. We have all met and dined together before and it was great to get together once more and pick up where we left off, two or three years ago. The food was as fine as the company, and we shared a convivial evening with plenty of laughter, although perhaps inevitably the conversation continually returned to Covid issues.

After the last of the desserts had been finished, we left 10 and said our various goodbyes. Patrick and Stephen would be driving me back to Lenox, as Hayley lives in Great Barrington, and as we drove we talked about the power of American Equity, the actors’ union, as well as the benefits and frailties of the British National Health Service – not bad for a thirty-minute drive!

Back at The Courtyard I checked my little cardboard sleeve to confirm where my room was and retired for the night.

A Christmas Joke

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol film, Charles Dickens, Christmas Cracker Jokes, Dickensian, Tesla, United Methodist Church

Tuesday saw me back on the performance trail once more with a visit to my old friends in Burlington, New Jersey. When Pam Byers had first planned this part of the tour I was scheduled to be on the West Coast at Rogers Gardens nursery in California, but unfortunately due to many of their staff not being fully vaccinated Rogers had to cancel their booking. It is ironic in a way because the Rogers venue is an open air amphitheatre and would probably have been the safest place to perform of any on the trip.

With the Rogers’ booking gone a gap opened up and Pam approached a few venues to see if they could plan a date at short notice and the team from Burlington leapt at the chance. They only had two weeks to plan the event but they wanted me to return and were not going to miss this opportunity.

On Tuesday morning I spent time in the apartment and decided to begin work on a new book – a sort of autobiography concentrating on my memories of life on the road, which you never know may be available in time for next years’ trip. I spent an hour or two wallowing in nostalgia until the clock ticked round to 11 – time to leave.

Bob had very kindly given me the use of his car during my stay in Philadelphia, although I had not yet availed myself of it, but now I would need it to drive the forty minutes or so to the Broad Street United Methodist Church in Burlington. But this wasn’t just any car, this was Bob’s new acquisition – a Tesla. I have never driven one of Mr Musk’s creations before and I was most curious to get behind the wheel and see what the future of motoring is like. I was also very very nervous as the streets in the centre of Philadelphia are both narrow and busy. The first problem I had was actually getting into the thing. The ‘key’ is nothing more than a credit card but it has a picture on the back of how to unlock the car – one has to wave it over a sensor built into the door frame. I waved and waved, and swiped and pressed but open the door did not. I went to the other side and tried there too, still with no luck. I returned to the driver’s side again and continued my efforts and began to think that the key must have deactivated like hotel room keys sometimes do when you store them next to a smart phone. And then I realised what the problem was – the spot I was waving at was actually one of the many mini cameras built into the body of the car and the invisible sensor was elsewhere. At last the lights flashed, the horn beeped and the lock clunked open. If there had been a security guard watching I must surely have looked like car thief trying to break in.

Once loaded up I sat in the drivers seat for the first time. The Tesla is a clever bit of design because although futuristic (no dash, no dials, just a large i-pad affair in the centre), it is familiar enough so as not to be daunting to a driver. There are two pedals arranged in the traditional manor, break and accelerator (One can’t call it a gas pedal as no gas is involved, probably something like a ‘pace actuator’ would be accurate) and a circular steering wheel. If Tesla had wanted to they could have gone fully radical and used a hand operated joystick to control both speed and direction, but by designing their vehicle in the traditional layout it means that anyone can hop in and drive it. If they can get it moving that is. When Bob had driven me into the city from the airport two nights previously he had given me a few pointers, one of which was getting the car running – so long as the keycard is in the car all you need to do is select drive and go. I selected drive, but nothing happened. I selected reverse and the i-pad lit up with camera shots of the parking garage, but still no motor. I selected drive again: nothing. Silence. And then it dawned on me, for silence is what this vehicle is all about. I tentatively put my foot on the pace actuator and sure enough forward I crept. A very odd feeling to have no audible conformation that the engine, sorry the motors, are operating.

On the road the Tesla has to be steered and manoeuvred like any other car but it goes out of its way to help you, on the screen there is an image of your vehicle at the centre with ghostly real-time representations of all of the other cars and trucks around you – these the result of the mini cameras which I was so fervently waving the keycard at earlier. If space is tight a yellow warning flashes up and if space gets very tight an amber and then a red light flashes up, and with plenty of construction in the city I was in the amber and red zone a great deal. The great danger is that you spend too much time looking at the screen and not the road itself. One on the freeway I could really feel what the car can do and it is remarkable. The acceleration is instant and amazing, surging forward in a way that an internal combustion engined car just cant, but the real revelation is the ‘engine braking’ for want of a better term. When you take your foot off the pedal it is as if someone has thrown an anchor out, for the retardation is sudden, almost violent. It soon became apparent that you never have to touch the brake pedal, the speed actuator does it all – even coming to stop at traffic lights, just lifting your right foot is all that is needed. I assumed that the car is programmed to show brake lights when the slowing and this was confirmed when I noticed that the image of the car on the screen showed the red light at the rear at such moments.

And once you are used to these little eccentricities the Tesla becomes just another car and a very very nice one it is.

Before travelling to the Church I wanted to stop at a Walmart for I had a little idea for the show that I was keen to try out at Burlington (it is a funny thing, and a coincidence, but I have introduced many new ideas into the show at Burlington over the years). Having made my simple purchase I drove onto Broad Street and entered the familiar old building and there waiting for me was the old gang – Laura, Marcia, Brian, Bill and the whole crowd of volunteers who make my time there so enjoyable.

My dressing room had undergone a change over the past two years, it was no longer a quiet room for reflection but had been repurposed as a nursery – I had a lovely mat on the floor with a road system on it, so I could push my toy cars around making ‘brumm brumm’ sounds (no Tesla’s in toyland!) and a number of cots with changing mats on. In the centre of the room was table loaded with fruit and cookies and water and snacks.

As soon as I was settled Marcia brought me a teapot of boiling water and I pored myself a cup of tea in a china cup, which was very civilised.

Next on the agenda was to liaise with Brian over the sound cues. In past years the church hadn’t had a sound system suitable for operating multiple sound cues and we had made do with just the opening music to accompany my entrance, but this year Brian was set up with a laptop and amplifier, so we could go the whole hog with all six cues. Once the sound checks were completed I returned to the dressing room to prepare for the show.

During the performance in the auditorium at Omaha when the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come first made an appearance I had folded the collar of my black frock coat up and opened up the lapels in an effort to cover my bright waistcoat, thereby creating a fully black spectral image, but the black and gold could still be seen. Would it work, I wondered, if I attached small Velcro pads to the lapels, meaning they could stay firmly sealed during those few moments, and that is what I had purchased at WalMart – little self adhesive Velcro dots. I fixed them to the coat and sure enough the effect worked (I looked rather like an assassin actually). But would it work during a performance? I was about to find out, for 2 o’clock was approaching.

With only two weeks to prepare for these two shows Laura hadn’t had much time to do any effective marketing, so the audience numbers were very low, but that didn’t really matter – just being there and doing a show was the important thing. Marcia later told me that in agreeing to stage my event the Church board had decided to restart their programmes of music and other entertainment in the sanctuary, so this was an important day.

When we were all ready to start Laura walked onto the stage and gave me a wonderful introduction as well as really plugging my book (mentioning that it is available on Amazon, which may be of interest to readers), and then left the stage to me. Brian started the music and I entered.

The first audience numbered only around 30, so it was quite a quiet show, but I did a good job. The ‘stage’ at Broad Street has always leant itself to the moments of audience participation (Topper’s girl, people jostling in busy streets, shaking hands on Christmas morning etc), but obviously this year there can be none of that, so I remained on the dais and performed as if on a theatrical stage, which although loses that joyful and playful connection between performer and audience, it does make for a tighter, more dramatic show.

I slightly spoiled the black ghost moment by closing the lapels on my coat too early, thereby revealing the effect before the ghost was mentioned, but the theory proved correct and with a little tweaking it should work well. At the end end of the show the audience stood and applauded, which was very gratifying and then we settled into a question and answer session. During this year’s trip I am not doing any signing sessions after shows, so we decided that it would be a good idea to do a little Q&A to make that connection between me and the audience. One lady asked what did I feel was the most important moment in the story, she believed that it was the revealing of the children Ignorance and Want, which is certainly true and that moment represents Dickens’ reasons for writing the story. As an alternative answer I mentioned the moment that Scrooge sees himself at the school and remembers the carol singer that he had sent packing: ‘I wish I could have given him a little something. It is an important part of the narrative because it shows that Scrooge’s reformation begins right at the very start of his journey – after that he wants to change and when the second ghost comes to visit Scrooge actually says – ‘I went forth last night on compulsion, but I did learn a lesson that is working for me now. Tonight, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.’

We wound up the questions and I took another bow before going back the nursery to change. It has been traditional for all of the volunteers to have dinner at a nearby restaurant between the two shows, and we did this again, all masked up and spread out around a long table. It felt slightly odd, I have to say, and although the company was excellent as was the fare, I was quite relived when we dispersed. There was just over an hour until the second show so I lay on a sofa and grabbed a little rest before getting ready for round two.

The evening’s audience was larger and a lot more vocal (many people had obviously seen me perform before, for hoots of laughter was coming in ahead of various lines!) I timed the closing of the frock coat much more effectively this time and hopefully looked suitably sombre and threatening. At the end I received a lovely ovation with the audience standing as I took my bows. On this occasion the question and answer session was slow to get going, so much so that Laura chimed in with the ‘what is your favourite movie version’ question just to get things going. However, soon the floodgates opened and we had a great time: where did Dickens get his inspiration for the scenes of poverty in his works? How did I come up with the idea for a one man show? Had I seen the Dickensian TV series and what did I think?

But there was one question that stumped me completely, it came from a younger member of the audience and was ‘what is your favourite Christmas joke?’ I went completely blank, I couldn’t think of a good joke to tell her. I talked about the British tradition of Christmas crackers and the appallingly bad jokes that generations of families have hooted with mirth at, but nothing came to mind. In the end I told the girl that she would need to read my blog post and I would find a Christmas Cracker joke for her:

What did Adam say on the day before Christmas? ‘It’s Christmas, Eve!’

and a bonus one:

What goes Oh! Oh! Oh!? Santa walking backwards!

My work here is done!

I changed quickly and having said my goodbyes I purred my way back to Philadelphia in the Tesla. Unfortunately when I got to the apartment block I discovered that construction crews were resurfacing the roads around it meaning that I was unable to get to the parking garage. I drove around for a while until I found public parking lot nearby, and paid for a night’s parking.

As is usual after a show my mind was still buzzing so I sat up for a while and ate a little blueberry pie that I had purchased at Wal-Mart, as well as some cookies that Marcia had insisted I take on the road with me. Eventually though tiredness came upon me and another day drew to a close.

A Triple Header

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Doctor Marigold, Douglas County Historical Society, Mid Continent Public Library, The Signalman

After getting through the first day’s performing unscathed day two dawned with the prospect of a lovely, lazy morning to catch up, and the chance to rest and regroup. With nothing officially due to happen until 1 I had the first half of the day purely to myself.

I wrote my blog post in bed, and sipped coffee whilst watching the TV. After a while I got up and did a ‘gabble rehearsal’ of Doctor Marigold which I was due to perform in the evening. A gabble rehearsal is when I run through the lines of a show as fast as I can, with no pauses or even any intonation, purely to ensure that the words are fixed in the memory. Having performed Marigold only a week or so ago back in England, everything seemed well set. It would have been interesting to time the run through and see what my personal best is! At 7 I went to the lobby for breakfast and once again sat apart from the other guests. I am reading a lovely book that Liz gave me for my birthday, ‘A Large Measure of Snow’ about a tiny Scottish fishing village marooned by a blizzard, and it was a lovely change to turn pages instead of scrolling.

Back in my room I sorted out costumes for later on and then flicked through TV channels until I found live coverage of the Manchester football derby match (football in the British sense when the players kick the ball with their feet, rather than the American version when they throw the ball to each other). It was a rather one sided match and Manchester City beat United 2-0.

With the match over I decided to take a stroll outside, and the weather was surprisingly warm as I walked through the little park outside the hotel and through the streets. In the summer this park is the venue for music concerts and as it is set on the side of a hill it must be a perfect spot to picnic and listen. The Midtown Crossing development was built in 2010 and horseshoes around the top of Turner Park featuring blocks of apartments, as well as restaurants and cafes, it is a lovely spot and I enjoyed my walk.

I finished up in the grocery store which is built into the development and purchased a few things for my lunch – the room at the Element is a little suite with a cooker and fridge built in, so I bought a microwavable Chicken stir fry and some fruit and returned to my room.

Now it was time to give The Signalman the gabble treatment and having completed that run I prepared my lunch which I ate while listening to the final practice session from the Mexican Formula 1 Grand Prix which is being held over this weekend.

1 o’clock was fast approaching so I collected up the various costumes and props that I would need for the afternoon and went down to the lobby where Frank was once again waiting for me. We loaded everything into his truck and drove the short distance to the Daniel J Gross High School in Omaha where I was to perform A Christmas Carol. The event was The Historical Society’s traditional tea performance, which in past years has always been held at the Field Club – a golf club with an elegant clubhouse. This year, however, Kathy couldn’t get a booking for love nor money, for all of the weddings that had been postponed in 2020 had now re-booked meaning there was not a chance of securing a weekend date, so the search went for another venue and the High School came up trumps. It boasts a very large reception area where tables could be set out for tea and then right next door an impressive auditorium where the guests could watch the show.

As Frank and I drove up we were deep in conversation about auto racing, having discovered a mutual passion for the sport – Frank had raced a little in Omaha and shared some wonderful memories of those times. We pulled up in the parking lot and there to greet us was ‘Flat Gerald’ a life sized cardboard cut out that Kathy had made many years ago: Flat Gerald is a great deal flatter and slimmer than the current version!

Having said hello to everyone I was shown into the beautiful auditorium where I was introduced to Becca, the drama teacher at the school, who would be looking after my lighting and sound requirements during the afternoon. Becca used to be an opera singer, before family and teaching, and now she is looking to get back to the performance side of her career again, having been teaching at the school for 9 years. It is always nice to tolk with a like minded soul about theatre and life on the road. I went onto the stage and started a few lines of the show and discovered that the acoustic in the hall was amazing. Without even making any effort I could hear and feel the air resonate with my words. It was apparent that I could quite easily do this show without amplification, but we decided to try with a mic too, which sounded equally good. Becca and I talked it over for a while and decided to go with the mic, bearing in mind the demographic of much of the audience.

Having made all of the preparations, and hidden the two little mice under the chair, I retired to a large room which had been designated as my dressing room and waited until the guests outside devoured their sandwiches, cones, fancies and cakes. At 3 o’clock I was ready to go and made my way into the wing space and waited for Kathy to welcome me. It was interesting that knowing how amazing the acoustic was, I couldn’t hear a word that she said – the stage and auditorium were perfectly designed to project the words forwards, not back. I knew that it was time to start because in the lighting box Becca brought the lights to black and started my first music Cue. As I walked onto the stage the lights slowly rose again creating a suitably eerie atmosphere for Marley’s funeral cortege as it makes its way to the graveside.

I was really really pleased with the show – plenty of space to roam around in, a receptive and playful audience, an expert on the tech side – everything came together to work perfectly. I felt very energised and buzzy at the end as I got changed and packed my things up. By the time I emerged from my dressing room all of the guests had left (we are not doing any signing sessions at any of the shows this year, for obvious reasons) and Frank had collected up all of props from the stage. Alarmingly he had also loaded Flat Gerald into the boot of his car, and as we sat in the front seats there was a terrible sensation of being watched from the back…..

I had a little time to spare before we were due at the next event, so Frank dropped me off at the hotel and I could relax for a little. I drank plenty of water and ate a banana before showering and getting into costume for the second show of the day: The Signalman. Frank picked me up at 6.15 and drove me to The Crook House, the headquarters of the DCHS, and where I would be giving my evening performances. The Crook House is a charming Victorian mansion and is a perfect setting to give a smaller performance in – this year Kathy had chosen the double bill of The Signalman and Doctor Marigold both of which suited the intimate nature of the venue.

As I walked in the back door the pre show buffet, catered as ever by the supremely talented Chef Mario, was in full swing and the first person I bumped into was Lee Phillips – my former driver in Omaha, who had relinquished the duties to Frank due to the terrible year that he and his wife Suzie have endured. Suzie and Lee are dear friends to both Liz and I and came to stay with us in Abingdon a few years ago, so it was with great alarm when we heard that Suzie had sustained a serious head injury when she had fallen doing some weeding in a neighbour’s garden. But she is a strong lady, and when she greeted me in the hallway of The Crook House she looked fit, well and happy, it was lovely to see her and Lee again.

At 7 pm the guests gathered in the dining room (converted into a theatre with a small stage at one end) and Kathy introduced me. I talked a little bit about the circumstances behind the Staplehurst rail disaster, not forgetting to mention the title of my book: (‘Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biography of a Rail Crash’, available via my website or Amazon), and then I addressed the audience in the guise of the elderly man recollecting the circumstances of meeting a lonely signalman in his remote signal box. Behind me the bay window was framed with a giant dark wood arch which represented the tunnel to perfection, and on a lighting sconce to one side a lavish bow of red ribbon had been hung which doubled as the mournful danger light which so torments the poor signalman. A perfect setting for a gothic ghost story.

When I brought the performance to an end, I dived into Kath’s office and shed the all black Victorian garb that I had been wearing and clambered into the rustic britches, shirt and waistcoat of Doctor Marigold who was to entertain the guests for the second half of the evening. By the time I returned glasses had been recharged and everyone was ready to go again. Once more the style of Marigold fitted the venue perfectly, as the story features a single character talking directly to his audience in a very intimate way – he entertains them with is witty sales patter, but also shares his darkest saddest hours with them.

When Charles Dickens used to perform the piece his tour manager George Dolby, who would watch the show from the wings, remarked how there was an audible gasp at the very end of the piece, and I can assure the ghosts of both Dolby and Dickens, that in 2021 the gasp and sobs are still there. Doctor Marigold is an amazing piece of work and my favourite to perform. Whenever I finish it, and this was certainly the case on Saturday night, I am very emotional and take quite a while to, as Marigold himself would say, ‘shake myself together’

From the dining room we moved into the parlour (although it had been repurposed as a dining room) and gathered around the table as Suzie delivered one of her beautifully written toasts to my visit and the Historical Society. We all chinked glasses and sipped champagne.

The guests gathered their coats and made their way into the warm night unto once more it was only Kathy, Frank and myself in the old pile.

Getting these two days together had been difficult for Kathy, but it was an important statement of intend from the Historical Society: ‘We are here! We are open! Things are happening!’ and I was glad, very glad, to have been part of it – I have so many good friends in Omaha and it was a pleasure to return in 2021.

Frank drove me back to the hotel and we said our goodbyes, and I returned to room 615 where I stayed up a while eating the delicious food that Mario had plated up for me.

And so the first leg of the trip is over. On Sunday I fly east where I will have a few days to myself in Philadelphia and a performance in New Jersey, before returning to the Midwest next week to perform for the Mid Continent Public Library Service in Missouri.

Go! Go! Go!

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Huskers, Immanuel Community, Lincoln, Nebraska, Omaha

The official first day of the tour was due to begin at an early hour, but it might have been so much earlier. My two performances were for to be at separate communities belonging to The Immanuel group, one in Omaha and one in Lincoln. Although my performances in Omaha are under the management of The Douglas County Historical Society, for the last few years an increasingly traditional feature of my visit has been a day given to Immanuel and I have visited a good many of their communities over the years.

This year’s shows were originally due to begin in Lincoln, Nebraska at 10.30 in the morning and a second back in Omaha at 2.30, tis would have meant an early start and a rush-hour drive to get to Lincoln in time to perform which, after my long day of travelling the day before and my late night, would not have been wholly enjoyable. I had suggested that the two shows be reversed meaning that I didn’t have to begin my 2021 trip in such a sleepless whirlwind.

I, of course, woke rather early on my first morning, but the fact that I didn’t have to be up and ready in the lobby of the hotel at silly-o’clock meant that I could have quite a relaxing morning, laying in bed drinking coffee and muttering a few lines to myself. At 7 o’clock I went down to breakfast, once again masked up and was astounded to discover that no one else was wearing masks – not the guests or any of the staff at Element. It became obvious that attitudes to mask wearing in the US are different to that in the UK (although increasingly few people are wearing there too). I selected a table at a good distance from others and enjoyed a good hearty meal which involved granola and fresh fruit, as well as some bacon and scrambled eggs. A meal to set me up for the day.

I was due to be collected at 8.30 so I made sure that I had all of my costume requirements for 2 shows (I wouldn’t be returning to the hotel until the day was done) and took myself back to the lobby where Frank Aultz was waiting to chauffer me around the state. In past years I have always been driven by my very good friend Lee Phillips but over the past year Lee and his wife Susie have undergone a few medical adventures meaning that Lee would not be available. Frank is the husband of The Douglas County Historical Society director Kathy Aultz and we have worked together at many events over the years, so I was in familiar and safe hands. In the lobby Frank waited for me, fully masked, and soon we were in his big SUV growling towards the Pacific Springs Retirement Community in the west of the Omaha. As with any Midwestern car journey it was quite a long one and Frank and I had had plenty of time to catch up before pulling up under the large portico in front of the main building. Kathy was already waiting, as was Heather from the centre and also Cameo who works for Immanuel and arranges all of the programming for the residents across the whole group, and who has worked with Kathy over recent years to make these events happen.

We all made our greetings and shared brief anecdotes about life under lockdown, before I was shown to a small office had been designated as my dressing room. And so a routine that will last until 23 December began as I changed into costume, making sure that all of the details were in place: shoes double-knotted, Victorian penny in waistcoat pocket, fob watch set and wound, cravat correctly tied etc etc. Back in the room where I was to perform a small stage had been erected and I re-arranged the furniture a little, and draped the red shawl, that has become part of the show in recent years, over the chair. Another important moment was to place the two little toy mice on the set: The mice were bought with my two daughters three years ago and are always somewhere on the stage so that they can be close to me, watching, even if we are half a world apart.

Mice hidden and I was ready to go!

At 10.20, or so, the audience began to appear from around the centre, some in wheelchairs, some with strollers, one on a Ferrari red motor scooter, and as he wore a red jacket, red baseball cap and red mask (everyone was masked), he looked as if he was a star driver with the Scuderia! The room was soon full and it was time to start. Firstly Cameo welcomed the residents and introduced Kathy who in turn welcomed me, and in the words of legendary Formula One television commentator Murray Walker, the 2021 tour was ‘Go! Go! Go!’

Any sense of tiredness I felt was swept away by the adrenaline rush of performing and soon I was well into the show – everything was working well. Of course I had performed A Christmas Carol a few weeks before at the Alderwood School in England, so the movements and lines were not completely alien to me, but it was a relief that everything fell naturally into place and I could really concentrate on making the show as effective as possible, rather than simply delivering a competent performance.

At the end of the show as many residents as were able stood to applaud me and many came up to me to thank me and congratulate me, which was wonderful – this had been a very good way to get things going. After I had changed back into my regular clothes Cameo told Kathy, Frank and I that the centre would be giving us lunch and we could retreat to the conference room where we would be alone and could catch up. Of course we had two years of news to share, so the conversation was constant. Our lunch came and was delicious, but time was ticking on and we had to be in Lincoln for the second show so we made sure we had all of our belongings and got on the road.

Lincoln is Nebraska’s capital city and lies around 60 miles to the South West of Omaha, and we were due at the Grand Lodge community for a 2.30 performance. As we departed Omaha it was clear to see how the city is spreading outwards – as property prices get ever higher downtown, so new developments are being built on the fringes of the city, and in a Midwestern town the limits are, well, limitless. The problem is that each new neighbourhood needs new stores and libraries and schools and businesses to support it, meaning that the heart of the city is left empty like the husks of corn which give the state its nickname.

The drive was beautiful under a bright blue sky streaked with some extraordinary cloud formations created by the strong winds that whipped across the prairie land. The quality of the sunlight showed off the golden fall colours to their best advantage whilst the wind meant that the huge American flags, so beloved by the auto trade in particular, billowed from their staffs in all of their glory.

Unfortunately as we got closer to Lincoln the traffic became slower and slower and our progress was halted meaning that by the time we pulled up at Grand Lodge the clock was ticking inexorably on towards 2.30 – showtime. Indeed, as I entered the main door, the seats in the auditorium space were already filling up – there would be no time to relax and collect my thoughts in preparation. However in the potential rush there was a slight oasis of calm: a cup of tea. the pot nestling under For my many years working in Omaha the signature performance has been at a lavish elegant tea and for many years the service was under the instruction of Mona, a volunteer with the Historical Society, who has a passion for English tea. She would create special blends and insisted that everyone drank from antique china tea cups with matching saucers. For me there would be a single teapot filled with a perfectly brewed Earl Grey, and a cup waiting in my dressing room. Mona’s husband died a few years ago and she moved from Omaha to be near to her daughter, and now she is living in the Grand Lodge community – this was a complete coincidence but as soon as she knew that I would be visiting she made sure that she would be waiting for me and that in my dressing room would be a pot of my favourite Earl Grey, nestling beneath a British tea cosy embellished with lace work.

With all of the rush to get ready for the show the opportunity to step back and savour the tea was very very welcome, and it was delicious.

By the time I emerged from my dressing room, Cameo was already making welcomes to the residents and as I put the microphone pack on, and adjusted my costume, Kathy was called up to make her opening remarks. I just had time to carelessly throw the red shawl over the chair, before I was on. The start of the show was rather like I was standing in a roller coaster car, not fully strapped in, when the ride started – I felt a bit out of control, but following a clearly defined route. It was as if I was a passenger to the show rather than actually controlling it, and it took me quite a while to get myself back to a place of comfort. However it all went well and once again the residents of the centre thoroughly enjoyed it and came to to tell me so afterwards, many with tears in their eyes.

It had been a rather frantic afternoon, but I had completed my second show and now I could rest. This first day was always going to be a challenge, but I met it well and gave two strong performances, which was a great relief to me. I posed for some photographs with Mona and Cameo (who has grand plans for my return nest year) and once again changed back into my regular clothes. Frank had gathered up all of my props and soon we were headed back to Omaha among the flying golden leaves.

With no performance in the evening I could relax and after dining in the Leadbelly Pub near to the hotel, I was able to get an early night and regroup ready for another day’s performing for the Douglas County Historical Society.