Minor Spillage

Pancake. Pancake. Pancake. And so on. I’ve just filled half a notebook with the word ‘pancake’. Sounds insane, doesn’t it? There is a good reason. I’m trying to give up pancakes for Lent. Writing the word down is the alternative to making and eating them. I can’t do that any longer. It all started on last year’s Pancake Day. I had pancakes as usual. It was a casual affair. Sugar. Lemon. Strawberries and choc spread. I had four. Nothing crazy. But then I made pancakes for breakfast on Ash Wednesday too. Well, I’d bought the flour and the eggs, the lemon juice, the strawberries and the choc spread especially for Pancake Day, and still had some left over (the total opposite of what Pancake Day was meant to be about: getting rid of all that sort of food from your cupboards). But then I bought more ingredients on Thursday. And Friday. By Saturday, I had pancakes for breakfast and lunch. By the following Tuesday, I was on three pancake meals a day. I had acquired a liking for not only the c...

Your eyes are the same shade of blue as your mother’s You don’t look a thing like me Trust me you should be relieved  It’s a wonder how you came to be If I should ever have a child I’ll always wear a smile for them If I should leave them for a while  I promise to come back again It’s what my parents did for me I know who I’ll have to be If I, should ever have a child Your heart’s not the same kind of sad as your father’s You are let to meet a lover You are yet to cry for others But one day you’ll meet the right one and you’ll never cry again This world is your ocean All I did was bring you to these shores When life is a shipwreck  Just remember what you’re sinking for Every step of the way You’ll learn from the things you do And never forget my love Your folks they are proud of you If I should ever have a child I’ll always wear a smile for them If I should leave them for a while  I promise to come back again It’s what my parents did for me I know who I’ll have to be ...

The Name? Firstly, anyone that read the last “Directing for Theatre” blog (there’s no prize for doing this, but you have my gratitude), you may realise there has been a name change. I’m still Josh if you meet me in person, I just have a pen name. Don’t worry, I’m not in witness protection or anything, I just wanted to compartmentalise different parts of my life. Other names I go by include “The Legend of Blackpool”, “Absolute top tier lad”, and “The one that can’t grow a beard”. Back to Business So, I’m directing a production called “Big Package in the City of Chaos”. It’s about a delivery driver who gets shot and is turned into a crime fighting robot. In the last entry we talked about the following: - Vision - Casting - Read-through In this entry we’re going to talk about what happens when you’ve got your actors, and you’re in the rehearsal room.  Step Four: Planning a Scene You and your producer will put a rehearsal schedule together. You basically work out how many scenes there ...

What’re you listening to? Oh. The same as me? Really. Wow! Well, erm.  I’m not sure what we can talk about then. That we like the same thing?  That just by chance there’s someone on the train sitting next to me listening to the very same thing as me? No. No nothing to talk about. In all the millions. Of millions. Of MILLIONS! Of possibilities of that one in a million chance that the person next to me would happen to be listening to the VERY same niche, unique, obtuse, absurd, strange, potentially cliquey, at least a little bit underground, (because I’m cool), band as me, on a train, where we both just so HAPPEN to have set next to each other on a journey to somewhere as totally innocuous as Kirkham and Wesham? No, you’re right. Nothing to talk about at all there is there.  Not in the slightest. If it’s alright, I’m just gonna put my headphones back on too. Ryan Croughan is one of the unfortunate souls who keeps the Minor Spillage ship sailing. Sailing? Probably better to ...