John, Colin, Jonny, Graham, Barry – still crazy after all these years
We are starting to wonder whether the Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner puts the kiss of death onto struggling restaurants. Our previously most recent find, the Goodge Street Spaghetti House, closed down after just two or three of our visits. You’d have thought that six to ten comedy writers, three or four times a year could keep any restaurant afloat, but it seems not.
La Ballerina in Covent Garden has been around for a long time. When John Random mentioned the place to Hugh Rycroft, Hugh reported that his aunt used to take him there.
Indeed, I found this history piece on its website – click here. For those who don’t want to click, it reads:
La Ballerina was a little, family-run café when it opened in the late 1800s…back when Hugh Rycroft’s auntie used to bring him to Covent Garden for fruity treats…
But that’s history, whereas we are topical comedy folk…or at least we were.
Anyway, point is, it is always a treat to get together with that crowd. Diverse conversations, ranging from Graham’s bizarre story about spending hours with the wrong Professor Guliyev in Azerbaijan discussing arcane rock formations…
…who knew that Guliyev is a common name in Azerbaijan? Azerbaijanis, that’s who…
…to even more arcane quizzing about symbols on flags. I didn’t come last. Naturally, Barry won that game.
We also talked about the good old days, of course. Songs are often the most memorable items. We talked about the various attempts that several of us had to rhyme things with Mangosuthu Buthelezi, for example. Was it Jonny who had managed something to the tune of Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini? It took two of us, me and Barry, to dredge out something to the tune of Hazy Crazy (Mangosuthu Buthelezi) Days Of Summer.
Graham reminded us of one of his favourite John Random songs from the days that the former Czechoslovakia broke up – Slow-Vak. As it happens, the Harris/Random archiving project has, mercifully, already rescued that one:
I love the way that John felt obliged to inform the cast how to pronounce Václav Havel’s surname, but not Antonín Dvořák’s. And in the matter of spelling, John, should the word be spelt Slow-vak or Slovak in this context? The distinction could make all the difference, comedically, when reading a piece.
Given that La Ballerina has been an eatery for well north of 150 years, it seems unlikely that it will close down any time soon. But our tenure might be foreshortened due to John Random’s terrified thought in the middle of the night when he got home that he hadn’t paid his share of the bill. I rose early to find a message from John to that effect. I replied:
I quipped with the proprietor fellow, while I was paying, that the sixth man was hiding in the loo trying to avoid paying. I’d be most surprised, therefore, if he hadn’t accosted you and relieved you of your portion so quickly after you relieved yourself, you didn’t even notice the extraction. The gentleman struck me as a follower of Colbert, adept at ” so plucking the goose as to obtain the largest possible amount of feathers with the smallest possible amount of hissing.”
But if I am wrong, don’t be surprised if the next Ivan Shakespeare dinner is at yet another new venue, on account of us having been banned from La Ballerina in disgrace.
Oh, and another thing. John and Mark Keagan are doing a bit of a show at the Canal Cafe in June:
I’ve booked my ticket for 10 June, which is the only night I can do. People might wish to book that night to join me or avoid that night to avoid me – click here for booking details.
As always, a fun evening. Ivan Shakespeare’s legacy to us – the idea of having regular gatherings – was a great one, much appreciated by those of us who have survived thus far.
