Gaiman’s Talk, Gaiman Stalk, Gaimanstock?
How the hell has a week passed so quickly? I don’t remember either being consulted, or being asked permission. It is possible that I am just not keeping track of the days as well as I should, and for someone who is quite obsessed with time, this is peculiar in itself.
So were where we? Well, last I wrote, we were leaving the Amanda Palmer concert in Dublin. As I had decided to stay out, it was uncertain where I would end up that evening. Half an hour later, at the behest of my concert going companions, I found myself in a metal bar, for metallic people. At first it was quiet, and my tie was getting glances which I attributed to tie jealousy. I felt oddly out of place, for about five minutes, then remembering how much metal I actually know, it transpired that I wasn’t completely out of my depth.
Drinks were had and one of the highlights of the evening manifested in meeting a rather enamoured cage fighter called Woody, who made me proposals that I haven’t heard the like of since I watched all of Oz back to back. The man was made like a hairy tree stuffed with sausages; luckily, one of the aforementioned companions distracted him by taking up the challenge of an arm wrestling match (and losing).
I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house, in a strange part of town, after a grand total of about three hours sleep. No one I knew was around and so I did what I usually do when I wake up horrifically early in someone else’s house, I looked for a discarded book somewhere around the living room, to pass the time until the others re-emerged. It’s a feeling that never really leaves you, early morning in stranger’s houses; thankfully, I didn’t have any regrettable sexual experiences thrown into the bargain.
Much driving in the sun later, we returned to Dublin after a quick trip to Greystones, for me to collect my things, as I had decided to return to Galway that night in dire need of my own bed. We were attending a Neil Gaiman reading, alongside an Amanda Palmer performance in Chapters bookstore that afternoon. Knowing this was free, we did the smart thing and arrived about three hours before it was due to start. This had the pleasant result of getting a spot right in front of the couches where the reading was due to take place.
It was delayed slightly, but nobody seemed to mind, the crowd however, was swelling to gargantuan proportions. It ended up with people being turned away as well over 500 attendees converged onto the store. As with the concert description, there is little point in me verbalising how great I think Neil Gaiman is, if you have ever read any of his work, you already know this. Ditto Amanda Palmer (just replace read with heard).
There are any number of youtube clips on the reading, none of which are of a quality that I would be happy with posting here. I was using someone else’s camera for the event and I have requested the pictures and footage taken to be forwarded to me, but have not yet received them (you know who you are, feel the guilt you deserve to feel).
The readings were humourous, eloquent and thoroughly entertaining, the songs equally so. It was well worth the backside paralysing few hours spent sitting on a shop floor. I left a happy man. Unfortunately, due to the amount of people, they announced that they could not stop to take photos with people, and could only sign one item each. This made it all the more special that I had a few moments to chat with each the night before.
One of my companions “rescued” (ie. Stole) one of the performance pieces (a poster sized photograph for the book), then brought it up to Amanda Palmer to sign, she seemed unimpressed, which was very reasonable under the circumstances. Dude, if you are going to steal stuff from artists at live events, well and good, but asking them to sign it before you leave? Wow, I am both affronted and in great admiration all at once.
Many hours of uncomfortable travelling followed, on a bus where none of the reading lights would work. I arrived back in Galway, seriously deprived of a decent night’s sleep, which I subsequently received.
In short, after the tenuously structured month of numbers and cabin fever, I found myself some enjoyment again. Since my return I have been working on several things of note, none of which I shall note right now.
Anyone fancy an arm wrestle?
(Nb: Pictures will follow, once I have significantly guilted the parties involved into forwarding them)
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