Christmas Begins Now

Tags

A Child's Journey With Dickens, A Christmas Carol, Byers'Choice, Delta Airlines, Detroit DTW, Ebenezer Scrooge, Enterprise Car Rental, Field of Dreams, Heathrow Airport, Hilton Garden Inn, Kansas City, Mid Continent Public Library, The Shawshank Redemption, Toyota Venza

It is the start of November, and the leaves are falling from the trees, in England the days have been wet and squally, but with occasional crisp, fresh periods of crystal-clear sunlight creating a farewell finale to the beauty of Autumn before it is totally consumed by the dark winter months. Pumpkins were briefly displayed on doorsteps, including ours, and houses were decorated for Hallowe’en. The night of the 31st itself was busier on the streets of Abingdon than I had seen before and the atmosphere among the gruesomely attired trick or treaters was more akin to those we have witnessed in America films and TV shows.

All of this is an annual prelude to the first part of my annual American tour and on Tuesday 1 November I packed my cases ready to depart early in the morning of the 2nd. The build-up to my travel day had been quite stressful, as I had been unable to check in for my flight. The Delta airlines app insisted that I uploaded my Covid vaccination status, but when I did, the system refused to accept it, saying that the brand of vaccine was not approved in America and I would need to prove some alternative – which seemed odd, as I had travelled quite successfully only a month or so ago. There seemed no way to contact Delta, only endless pages of FAQs so I was not sure if I would actually be allowed to board a plane when I reached the airport.

On Wednesday morning I finished my packing and put on my new fleece jacket, branded for my tour emblazoned with the GD monogram and A Christmas Carol legend originally created for my website a few years ago. The corporate look was completed by a baseball cap and I was ready to tour!

My taxi arrived at the door at 6.45 and having said our farewells (which even after all these years never get any easier) I headed towards Heathrow airport’s terminal 3 building.

The traffic was heavy, and I was later arriving than I would have liked and to my dismay there was a long queue winding through the terminal leading to the bag drop. I found an official and she began to check me in. I held my breath as she asked to see my proof of vaccination, and after a cursory glance at the paperwork, she handed it back and sent me on my way – the first hurdle was cleared. There was still the matter of actually getting to the gate in time for the flight, but the Delta staff were on it, and called for anyone booked on the 9.40 flight to Detroit to come to the front. My bag was perilously close to the weight limit, but the agent at the desk caught sight of my fleece and asked about A Christmas Carol. I explained about my show, and we discussed the amazing production at The Old Vic theatre, which we had both seen last year. It was one of those lovely moments when the hustle and bustle of everyday life gave way to a moment of personal connection, although I was aware that my flight was starting to board, and I had yet to clear security.

I could build the tension even more by describing the taking off jacket and belt and watch, and having to wait to be patted down, as time ticked on, but actually the process passed quite calmly, and I arrived at the gate just as pre-boarding began. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to have any breakfast at the airport. I had eaten a single slice of toast at home to keep me going but was looking forward to a more substantial repast as I waited to board, but the heavy traffic and the long lines had scuppered that idea, so I would have to wait for the inflight service at 40.000 feet to satiate my hunger.

The flight was fairly busy, but I had an open seat next to me, which is always a treat, and I settled in for 7 hours across the Atlantic. As I sat, I noticed that the bags were being loaded just beneath my window and it was with a great sense of relief that I was able to witness my blue case being placed on the conveyor belt which entered the hold. It is always a reassuring thing to actually witness your bag being on the same vehicle as oneself.

My film choices on the flight included The Shawshank Redemption and Field of Dreams, neither of which I had seen for many years, and neither of which have lost their respective impacts (especially Shawshank). ‘Breakfast’ was a chicken pesto dish, followed by ice cream, which was surprisingly tasty. Beneath us were the icy waters of the North Atlantic, until we made landfall over Gander (‘Welcome to the Rock’) and headed up the St Lawrence over Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto and on to Detroit.

Whilst in my seat I could glimpse the TV screen in the row ahead of me and on two occasions it sent memories and messages to me. The first was when it was in its screen saver mode and just displayed details of our flight: LHR-DTW, Heathrow to Detroit. It was the latter code that stirred the memories in me, for my acting career really started with a youth drama group in my home town of Tunbridge Wells, which was called Design Theatre Workshop, more commonly referred to as DTW. Almost everything I know about theatre I learned in my teenage years at DTW, and it is a time that I talk about at length in a new book about my theatrical life, which should be published in time for next year’s tour.

DTW didn’t exist purely to put on shows, it wasn’t just another AmDram group, but it encouraged its members to explore ways of becoming more creative.  The ‘workshop’ aspect saw us spend many evenings doing various improvisations and exercises, developing ways of creating our own theatre. I remember that one session was given over purely to feeling the strength of a gesture all the way through the arm to the very tip of the finger, every muscle tensed to create the desired effect and that is a technique that I use in my performance of A Christmas Carol today to bring strength and power to the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. I have much to thank DTW for, and it was lovely to wallow in a little nostalgia and think what those days have done for me.

The other subliminal message was less about the past but more about the future, for as we crossed the coast the flight map showed where various cities were in relation to us and for a fleeting moment the screen was filled with Portland and Boston – the journey taken by Charles Dickens and Kate Douglas Wiggin in 1868 and the subject of ‘A Child’s Journey With Dickens’ – which is to be my first performances of the 2022 tour. I took the hint and pulled out the script just to run over the lines to myself at 600 MPH. In the script Kate talks about the daily train to Portland dashing hither and thither at 12 miles an hour – such progress.

We arrived at Detroit in good time and the final hurdle of immigration was cleared easily. I retrieved my case, wheeled it down a corridor and rechecked it again, with no bother from any customs officers. Having once again divested myself of belt, watch jacket and shoes, I was allowed back into Detroit airport, having never actually left it, and I made my way to the gate where I would board a much smaller aeroplane to Kansas City, the first stop of the 2022 tour.

The second flight was completely full, so I had no luxury of an empty seat next to me, but once again I was sat over the hold hatch and therefore was again able to feel the relief that my bag was coming to KC too.

Kansas City is the venue that I have visited more often than any other, so the airport is a reassuringly familiar one, as yet untainted by the building programmes that render most airports indistinguishable from one another. The different terminals at Kansas City are a series of circular buildings looking rather like a moon base from a 1960s sci-fi show. I fetched my bags and boarded the shuttle bus to the car rental facility (I rather think I might have jumped the entire queue for the bus, just walking on when it arrived, but none of the other passengers said anything to me about it). The staff at the Enterprise Car Rental desk couldn’t have been more helpful, and actually walked me to my car, and introduced me to it – a very smart Toyota Venza hybrid SUV model. Having worked out how to switch the engine on and adjusted the mirrors I set off for the short drive to my Missouri home from home, the Hilton Garden Inn at Liberty.

It was about 6.30 by the time I got to my room, which to my English body was close to midnight, so I had an early supper at a nearby Olive Garden restaurant, before returning to my room for sleep

This year’s visit to Kansas City will be quite different from the past, but I will talk about that more tomorrow. For now, I have arrived, and the tour is about to begin.

Questions. So Many Questions

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol 2020, Bob Cratchit, Ebenezer Scrooge, Jacob Marley, Kansas City, Mid Continent Public Library, Nephew Fred, The City of London

Over the last few days I have spent quite a bit of time sitting in front of my laptop in a Christmas sweater (red with snowmen, to be precise) chatting via Zoom about my new film of A Christmas Carol. Yesterday I spent a very entertaining hour in the company of audience members from The Mid Continent Public Library Service in Kansas City who posed some fascinating questions, and I thought it may be fun to air some of them here so that the debate can move onto a larger platform. The answers to these questions are open to interpretation and derive not so much from fact but from a few clues buried deep within the text that was written so quickly in December 1843. I hope you have fun coming to your own conclusions:

Friendship: was Jacob Marley Scrooge’s only true friend?

We know that Scrooge and Marley were close in that they formed a business and ran it together for ‘I don’t know how many years’. The two men presumably shared the same opinions, morals and aspirations and the firm had the name of Scrooge and Marley. Ebenezer, we are told, never painted out Jacob’s name after his death, although that was probably less to do with friendship and more to do with the cost of paint! Scrooge was, as Dickens points out, his sole friend and his sole mourner. So, yes a friendship was certainly there, but does it go deeper?

The opening chapter of the book bears Marley’s name and it is also in the first sentence of the novel, in fact it is the very first word, so we know from the outset that Jacob Marley is important to what will unfold, but just how strong is his influence over old Ebenezer will be confirmed in the following pages. For the rest of the first chapter not a single other character is referred to by their name, even though there is plenty of traffic passing through Ebenezer’s office on Christmas Eve: apart from his faithful clerk who sits in a ‘sort of a tank’, Scrooge’s ever cheerful and faithful nephew comes to call, as do two gentlemen collecting for charity. A carol singer stoops to the keyhole in the hope of making a penny. Not only does Scrooge dismiss all of these individuals but neither he or the narrator refers to any of them by name, they are simply ‘the clerk’, ‘the nephew’ and ‘the gentlemen’. The next time a name is mentioned is when Scrooge is standing in front of his door: ‘Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley since his last mention of his seven years dead partner that afternoon.’ Marley again.

When the ghost eventually appears, the two men, after a bit of ill-tempered banter (‘Can you sit down?’ ‘I can!’ ‘Do it then’, ‘You don’t believe in me’, ‘I don’t!’), fall into a conversation as Marley warns his friend what lies in store and, more to the point, Scrooge listens Ebenezer doesn’t simply call him Marley, but actually uses his first name, ‘Jacob, tell me more, speak comfort to me Jacob.’ Indeed, Scrooge goes so far as to say that ”you were always a good friend to me. Thank ‘ee’.

The chains that Jacob bears belong also to Ebenezer and Dickens uses this imagery to shackle them together in genuine friendship. Unless Scrooge can change, unless he learns from the three spirits, only then will those chains be broken.

Of course Scrooge has little choice but to spend time with the ghosts and indeed he does repent and change his ways and at the end of the book he refers to Jacob just once before he rushes into the streets and visits his nephew whom he addresses as ‘Fred’ upon arrival. The next morning he surprises his clerk and wishes him ‘A Merry Christmas Bob!’ And of his old long deceased friend? ‘Scrooge had no further intercourse with the spirits….’, there is no name, Marley has now become a function, as the mortal characters were in the opening chapter, and is consigned to the skies to continue his long and weary journey – unless by helping his only true friend Jacob is also released from the shackles that bound him to Ebenezer and is allowed to leave purgatory to spend eternity at peace.

A final observation about friendship was pointed out by the questioner in Kansas City: when Fred, the nephew, is pleading with Scrooge he says ‘I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?’ At that point friendship seems to be out of the question but it is obviously an important target for Fred to aim for.

Was Scrooge’s father visited by spirits too, thereby softening his attitude and bringing his son home at Christmas?

When Ebenezer is taken to see his old school by the Ghost of Christmas Past he is saddened to see ‘his poor forgotten self as he used to be’ and can only mutter ‘poor boy’ as he remembers the solitude and despondency of the Christmas holidays when he alone was left in the long bare room. Every other child had been taken home but Scrooge’s father seems not to have cared for his son. When the spirit shows Scrooge another Christmas we can assume that a number of years have passed, for the description of decay is more than might be expected in a single year: ‘Scrooge’s former self grew larger at the words and the room became a little darker and more dirty. The panels shrunk, the windows cracked; fragments of plaster fell from the ceiling and the naked laths were shown instead.’ We are certainly led to believe that every Christmas that past was the same and young Scrooge was simply abandoned. But suddenly a ray of light bursts into the scene, in the person of Scrooge’s younger sister Fan, who skips and squeals and jumps and hugs before telling Ebenezer that ‘I have come to bring you home dear brother, to bring you home, home, home! Home for good and all, home for ever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that home’s like Heaven. He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him again if you might come home; and he said Yes you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you. And you’re to be a man! And are never to come back here; but first we are to be together all the Christmas time long and have the merriest time in all the world!’

I have always assumed in the past that Scrooge’s father only recalled him from school because he is of an age at which he can work and earn his keep, and this is undoubtedly true, but there is more, there is a tenderness in the gesture and little Fan’s words tell a deeper story: ‘Father is so much kinder than he used to be….’, we have to ask ‘how was he before?’ Fan intimates that she used to be scared of him at her bed time, so was he violent and abusive to his children? It is plain that he is looking after the family alone for there is no mention of a mother, so perhaps he was depressed or possibly alcoholic, but now the little girl tells us that ‘home is like Heaven’: a huge change has come about somehow. If Scrooge was simply to be sent to work by a dominant, abusive patriarch it is unlikely that he and Fan would be allowed to be together all the Christmas time long having the merriest time in all the world. Something has definitely altered in the Scrooge household, and it is entirely possible that in this world of ghosts, the spirits have already been at work (later in the book, the Ghost of Christmas Present tells Ebenezer that ‘my time on this globe is very brief….’ – the word THIS suggests that he has plenty of other Christmas days to visit.

A lovely little touch is that little Fan explains to Ebenezer that father sent her in a coach to bring him home and this is mirrored at the very end of the book when he sees the prize turkey and exclaims ‘Why, it is impossible to carry that to Camden Town. You must have a cab!’

The reconciliation of Scrooge and his father is repeated in the reconciliation of Scrooge and his nephew, his only living relation and the only link to his little sister Fan.

Charles Dickens also had a sister named Fan, short for Frances, although she was two years older than he and not younger as in the book, but the difference in their childhood lifestyles was just as profound. Whilst young Charles was sent to work at Warren’s blacking factory and his education was paid scant attention to, his sister was sent to the Royal Academy of Music where she won two prizes. The gulf between the siblings never led to any open jealousy between them although Dickens would confide later in life how much it secretly hurt him. Frances had two sons, one being very sickly and weak – a certain model for Tiny Tim. But unlike the fictional child, Harry would die in 1848, shortly after his mother. They were buried together at Highgate Cemetery.

Frances Dickens

The Charity Collectors

This section is based purely on my invention and I cite little evidence from the text for my conclusions, but there is a question to be asked: who are the charity collectors?

We know that Scrooge is well known in the City of London and that his office is in a most prestigious area close to the Bank of England and the Stock Exchange During the vision of the future Ebenezer is shown other affluent merchants discussing his death as they fiddle with gold seals on their watch chains (an important detail to establish wealth and success), and we are told that Scrooge recognises them. One of the gentlemen says ‘When I come to think of it, I’m not at all sure that I wasn’t his most particular friend; for we used to stop and speak whenever we met.’ The reason for pointing all of this out is to ask why on earth the charity collectors didn’t know if Scrooge was Scrooge or if he was Marley? If they had any background in the City they would have known that soliciting Scrooge for a donation would have been futile and it would have been much better use of their time to pass by the door and head towards a more benevolent gent.

So, we must come to the conclusion that these particular collectors are new to town and I have invented a scenario in which their other more experienced and hardened colleagues have sent them into the lion’s den as a kind of prank, or possibly an initiation test. Of course they feel the full force of Scrooge’s ire even though they try to convince him with their carefully prepared statements, but leave with nothing seeing that it would be ‘useless to pursue their point’ No doubt they slouch back to the office where they are greeted with huge guffaws of laughter.

Imagine then, only a few hours later, next morning indeed, when old Ebenezer bounds up to them, wishes them a Merry Christmas and whispers that he wants to make a huge pledge to the charity, ‘a good many back payments are included in it, I assure you!’. I imagine they rush back to the office with the news and calmly tell their astounded friends ‘oh, that old Scrooge, he just needed the right approach, that’s all! Simple really, I don’t know what all of the fuss was about!’

I am sure that there are plenty of other scenes in the book which can be disassembled and explored, and I would be fascinated to know of anything that you may have spotted or questioned. The film has given me the opportunity to look at my script, and the original material, from a different perspective and it may well be that come Christmas 2021 the show might have changed a little…..

To view the film go to my website: http://www.geralddickens.com

Memories from the Mid Continent Public Library Service.

Tags

Baseball, Kansas City, Library, Mid Continent Public Library, Snow

It was no surprise that following the pictures from Omaha my phone should choose to then remind me of my times in the Kansas City area, for the two venues, being geographically close, inevitably have been paired on my tour during recent years.

Woodneath Library Centre

The picture that my phone produced was from two years ago as I prepared to perform at the Woodneath Library in Liberty, Missouri, but my relationship with the Mid Continent Library Service, who own and manage Woodneath, is not a recent one – oh, no, I have been performing there for longer than any other venue on my tour. My first visit was in 1995.

My career as a performer of Charles Dickens’ work began in England in 1993. That year marked the 150th anniversary of the first publication of A Christmas Carol and I, as an actor, had been approached by a local charity asking me to recreate one of my great great grandfather’s famous readings as a fundraiser. I reluctantly agreed, and that decision changed my life.

In 1994 I performed The Carol a few times in the UK and one show was watched by a representative from the Galveston Dickens Festival where my Dad had been appearing for the past three years. After the show we all chatted. My father didn’t wish to travel any more and was keen for me to take over the mantle, he had made the introduction with a view to making that happen.

And sure enough, when December ’95 came around I was on a plane heading to Texas. I spent a weekend becoming part of ‘Dickens on the Strand’ which was an amazing time, but when Sunday evening came I didn’t fly home to England, I boarded a flight for Kansas City, Missouri.

The superb festival in Galveston had inspired a similar event in Kansas City which was the brainchild of the Missouri Rep Theater Company and my father had worked closely with them over the previous two years as a consultant. He had attended the inaugural festival in ’94 and now I was stepping into his shoes to carry on the legacy.

But there was a timetabling problem: The Galveston festival finished on Sunday evening and the Kansas City one wouldn’t begin until the next Friday, leaving me doing nothing for four days in a rather luxurious hotel.

Enter the Mid Continent Library Service. The Charles Dickens Holiday Fair organisers thought it would be great publicity for their festival if I could get out and perform in front of as many people in as many areas around downtown Kansas City as I could, encouraging them to visit the Convention Center at the weekend. The library service, which is based in Independence, has branches all over the Kansas City region (thirty-five currently) and so presented the perfect solution.

During that first year I was conducted from venue to venue by a lady named Linda who was volunteer with the festival. I remember that she had a stylishly coiffured bob of platinum blonde hair and wore a large fur coat, so dark that it was almost black: she looked a bit like a walking pint of Guinness!

In those days I used to perform three times a day and, as I mentioned in an earlier post, the performances were given as readings and were well received. The following year we repeated the exercise, but during that year the Holiday Fair went bust, meaning that there was no reason for me to return to the Kansas City region in ’97.

Except The Mid Continent Public Library Service had other ideas. The appearances had proved so popular that they wanted to continue the relationship and booked me to return to Missouri in 1997 and I have been going ever since, except for the years when I ‘retired’.

Memories? too many to mention! In the early days I used to be looked after by two librarians in the events and programmes team, Miriam and Marlena, and we would spend whole days driving from one branch of the library to another, each performance punctuated by a huge meal in various restaurants.

Performing in a library space was strange, for although the audiences were relatively small, the buildings themselves were built to soak up sound, meaning that projecting my voice was incredibly difficult and I would frequently end up very tired and hoarse after a day’s performing.

A Library Set

Mid Continent not only enjoyed the audiences that I drew but also the attendant publicity that came with my visits and we often had to find time for media events and interviews between the branch visits. On one occasion we were due to have a very early morning radio interview at a station who broadcast out of a small shack across the state line in Kansas. There was heavy snow on the ground and the air was filled with blizzard conditions as we crawled slowly on. I was in costume as we had to drive straight to a library branch as soon as the interview was done.

At one point of the journey we reached the bottom of a steep hill and the route up was slick and icy meaning that we couldn’t proceed. However Marlena noticed that the route DOWN the hill had been well used by various trucks meaning we would be able to get up the hill by driving on the wrong side of the road. Of course a problem would arise if a car should be legitimately driving only to be confronted with us squirming up the slope, so I rather gallantly, or foolishly, volunteered to walk ahead of Marlena’s car to warn any oncoming traffic. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled my top hat low over my forehead and held my walking cane ahead of me to alert anyone who may be there. It was fortunate that I did, for indeed a pick-up truck driven by a bearded guy in a baseball cap did start the descent. I waved my cane high in the air, matching the movement with my other arm until he stopped and stared at me, mouth open.

To understand his shock you have to relive the scene from his viewpoint: He was driving into a whiteout, nothing to be seen, an alien landscape ahead of him. What was that? A shape, a shadow, a figure: out of the mist appeared a ghost, the ghost of a Victorian gentleman waving in tormented anguish. If the scene had been included in a 70’s movie our pick-up driver would have looked at a half emptied bottle in his hand and shaken his head, before tossing the liquor out of the car window!

On another occasion we had a little time before we needed to be at a venue so the M&Ms decided to take me to a baseball batting cage where I could try some hits. I was fitted with a helmet and gloves but other than that I was in full costume as the automatic pitching machine pelted balls at me.

It was during these early years that I performed at the Blue Springs branch where the head librarian was Kimberley Howard. During subsequent years Kimberley rose up the ranks and began to work on the programming team, initially alongside Miriam and Marlena and more latterly on her own. For the past goodness-knows-how many years Kimberley has been the one who has booked me and looked after me during my stays.

With Kimberley (r) and the team

On her watch my performances have changed somewhat as the interest and audiences have grown. The smaller branches have not been able to accommodate the growing numbers and Kimberley has found other ways of presenting my shows to her patrons – the biggest being in a facility attached to a retirement community called the John Knox Pavilion where we pack around 900 people in, and the amazing thing about it is, that Mid Continent offer all of their programmes for free!

You can imagine therefore, given our history, that Kimberley and the team were very sad that I couldn’t travel in 2020 but as has been their way over the years they weren’t going to let a thing like a global pandemic get in the way of their programming.

Mid Continent Library Service have been instrumental in getting my new film made, and have assisted financially in the production, so our relationship which goes so far back is now even stronger and deeper than ever before.

Travelling to Old Friends and Missing Others

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Byers Choice, Dickens, Heathrow, Kansas City, London, Mid Continent Public Library, Newark, Samsonite, UAL, United Airlines, USA Tour

Saturday 9 November 2019 saw the start of a new Christmas season and at 7 am the first act of a well rehearsed system fell into place.  A black Mercedes taxi was waiting for me in the thick fog of the early morning and soon my bags were loaded and I was on my way to the airport.

I had a new travelling companion this year, for you may remember that my old suitcase split at the seams during my trip in September.  After much research and a couple of false starts (cases ordered and returned for the reason that I couldn’t fit my walking cane diagonally in them – the sole criteria which an auditioning case must fulfil), I ended up with a petrol blue Samsonite model, which seems sturdier yet lighter than my old one.

I had packed during the days preceding and was somewhat worried that the case came in so underweight, leading me to panic that I had left something of vital importance out, but I had checked and re-checked and all seemed to be present and correct.

On Friday morning I had received a confirmatory email from United Airlines inviting me to check in so I had dutifully logged onto their website to do just that.  Now, I like to have a window seat when I fly and there are two reasons for this – one I love to see the view and possibly comment on what I see in these posts (although on a transatlantic flight of over seven hours that pleasure is confined to a few minutes at the start and a few at the end).  The other reason is that I feel much safer and more secure if I can see the ground as the plane touches down, I hate the thought that I might not be ready for the impact – it is a silly  thing, but a few years ago I was flying to join a cruise ship and was sat in a seat next to the main door and from which I had no view at all.  As we came into land I experienced what can only be described as a mild panic attack, and became quite scared.  I am a well travelled man and have had plenty of experiences of bad landings as well as good ones, but even today there is just something about seeing the ground that reassures me.

So, it was with some dismay that I discovered that United Airlines now do not offer a window seat as part of the standard fare anymore, for that privilege you have to pay an extra $99 to upgrade to an ‘Economy Plus’ seat.  Was my mental wellbeing worth $99?  No, not on this occasion, especially as I was booked into a central aisle seat from where I was sure I would have some glimpse of the ground.

My taxi took me towards Heathrow and directly into the most amazing sunrise, the great golden disk was softly diffused by the fog and it seemed to be huge in the sky, the bottom tip  barely touching the horizon.

As regular readers will know I have been tentatively working on a book, and as I sat in the back of the taxi I read what I had written so far, making mental corrections as I went.  It was a strange feeling for in one section of my account Charles Dickens is sat in a railway compartment and I had written: .’Perhaps Dickens took the manuscript of Our Mutual Friend from his pocket to study and read over once more, mentally correcting a certain passage and losing himself in his work.’  And here was I doing exactly the same thing.

The traffic on an early Saturday morning was not heavy and I made it to the airport in good time where the check-in procedure was equally swift.

Even the lines in the security hall moved quickly and I was delighted to discover that I had time for breakfast before making the 15 minute walk to my gate.  I found a restaurant and ordered scrambled egg and smokes salmon with a fresh orange juice and coffee to wash it down with, it was delicious.

There was a different feel about Heathrow on a weekend and it seemed a happier, more positive place that I have often found it.  There seemed to be more people going on holidays, or pleasure trips.  There were more smiles and less grumpy, impatient people with extremely important business to attend to, needing everyone else to be out of the way.

Having finished my breakfast I made my way to the gate where the preliminary boarding process was just beginning and I didn’t have long to wait until my group was called and I shuffled up the rather narrow aisle of a 767 and found my seat (from where I did have a view to comfort me!)

We were slightly late departing for the cold morning had necessitated a de-icing spray but soon the little collection of strangers was being propelled into the sky and away from England.

The flight passed as flights do these days, smoothly and efficiently.  I watched  The Favourite, with Olivia Colman.  It is a discordant film, nasty, difficult and slightly Hogarthian in its direction, but it is superb and the performances by the three female leads are wonderful.

Lunch was served and I opted for a rather nice chicken curry, but I noticed that the United Airlines cuts had extended to no pudding on the plate (perhaps that would have been included in the extra $99!)  They even teased me by supplying a plastic spoon with the knife and fork, which seemed a bit mean.   I don’t know why, but I kept that spoon when the main course was cleared away and was made to feel ashamed at my unworthy thoughts towards United when soon afterwards a little tub of Belgian Truffle Ice Cream was served.  Everyone around me had to eat theirs with the a little plastic spatula which was concealed in the lid of the tub, but I, for whatever reason, had kept my spoon.  I felt superior and smug about that.

More films (a re-watch of Bohemian Rhapsody which was just as exciting on the second view, and rather oddly Little Shop of Horrors) passed the time,  and I also read some of The Invisible Woman, the book by Claire Tomalin about Dickens’ relationship with Ellen Ternan.  It is a superbly researched book but as always whenever I read it I felt a huge sadness over the way Charles treated my great great grandmother, Catherine.  I was fortunate enough to meet Claire at a literary festival a few years ago and she said much the same, that is made her feel sad to record such awful actions of a man she otherwise greatly admired and revered.

The movies and the book helped me across the southern tip of Greenland and the northern wastes of Canada before a warm croissant was served (‘turkey and cheese or just cheese?’  I was tempted to ask for turkey and cheese but without the turkey please, but that would have just been facetious.

We began our slow descent into Newark airport and I caught a glimpse of the magnificent Manhattan skyline bathed in a golden  fall sunlight before we touched down and taxied to our gate.

The line in the immigration hall was long, a 50 minute wait so the helpful video screen informed me, and I settled down to reading more about Ellen and Charles as I shuffled forward.  Many people in the queue were staring to panic about missed connections and indeed I was due to board a plane to Kansas City, but I have learned over the years that it is better not to look at a watch or a clock in these situations for that only leads to a sense of panic which doesn’t do any good at all: the line is never going to move faster and the officers will not allow you to leap to the front, so there is no point getting heated about the whole situation.

Eventually I was cheerfully waved on my way by an agent and I picked up my suitcase to clear customs before re-checking it for my onward flight, where the baggage handler looked at his schedule and said ‘Kanas City, 3.30?  You need to hurry!’  Now I could panic and get heated.  Of course my flight was due to depart from a different terminal so I ran to the skytrain and trundled round to where I needed to be, then I had to clear security again – shoes, belt, watch, jacket off.  Stand in the tardis-like thing with my hands up.  Clear.  Shoes, belt, watch, jacket back on again and run through the terminal to gate C84, which seemed to be halfway to Missouri.  Sure enough the gate was deserted when I arrived but fortunately the door was still open and I managed to get on board with a few minutes to spare before it was firmly and finally closed.

The flight was over two hours and this time I entertained myself by listening to the opening chapters of ‘Northern Lights’ the first of the ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy by Philip Pulman.

Coffee was served and for a snack I could choose a bag of peanuts, a Biscoff cookie or a Stoopwafel wafer.  I selected the latter.

As well as listening to my audio book I also played a little Backgammon on my phone, desperately trying to beat the computer 11 – 0 and endeavour in which I was eventually successful, just as the wheels were touching down at Kansas City airport.

Kansas City is a familiar airport to me as I have been coming here for many years and I was soon waiting at baggage claim for my nice new case to appear, which it didn’t.  I became rather nervous for as I had only just got on the flight, surely my bag would have been one of the last on, therefore one of the first off?  In my mind I began imagining a show tomorrow with no top hot or cane (I always travel with a costume and shoes in my carry on case, so it wouldn’t be a complete disaster).

At last however my case appeared and I revisited my illogical thinking: yes my bag would have been first off the aeroplane, which meant it would also be first onto the cart and therefore the last off again the when the bags were loaded onto the carousel.

Having taken a shuttle bus to the car rental facility I was able to choose my steed for the next week, a white Kia Optima and in no time I was making the drive to my Missouri home, the Hampton Inn at Liberty. Having checked in I decided to get a bite to eat straight away  only to discover that my usual restaurant, The Longhorn Steakhouse near to the hotel was packed, and it was then I realised that it was 7.30 on a Saturday night:  food was not going to be easy to come by.  I drove around to other restaurants only to find the same large crowds all waiting for a table to become free.  Eventually I ended up at the Corner Café a homely place in the mould of the Cracker Barrel chain of restaurants, but much less corporate and with a more local feel to it.  I enjoyed a beef pot roast with mashed potatoes and green beans, all washed down with a large glass of Sprite.

It was 8.15 when I returned to the hotel although my body and head was still somewhere in the early hours of Sunday morning.  I unpacked my costumes and hung them up and then went straight to bed.

I am delighted to be back and especially to be among my dear friends in the Kansas City area and to be working again with Kimberly and her team at he Mid Continent Public Library branches, but there is a slight feeling of sadness and emptiness about this year’s trip, because I am not performing in Pigeon Forge this year which has become the traditional starting point for my recent tours.

My commitments at home just didn’t allow for me to travel any earlier this year and therefore I couldn’t make the trip to the beautiful Smoky Mountains. To Kristy, Dwight, Debbi, Art, Gary and his Corvette and all of my other friends there I can only say that I hope to be back in 2020!