The Toilet!!

The lavatory pan; invented by Thomas W Crapper.

I have been here just over two weeks and it seems like a lifetime; all my pals will be thinking I've deserted them as I haven't been able to call them yet but I've been so busy travelling, rehearsing and, more than anything else, doing the logistics and publicity for my show in Edinburgh. That has been a full time job and I have spent most of my time in the position I am in at the moment that is sitting at the computer and typing.

My wife has been a bit sick and so have all the babies – sore throats, colds, the flu, tummy bugs and the like and so far I have escaped it. I have been here, there and everywhere and a word I didn't hear too much in America has raised its ugly, unattractive, naff head; the word is toilet.

There are some things I agree with the upper classes with and one of them is their abhorrence of the word; they would sooner their precious little snooty offspring use the word bog instead of toilet even the shit house.

They hate the nicety words like the little boys room, the bathroom, the rest room and the like – they prefer the loo or the correct word the lavatory; and why wouldn't they?

The Americans don't use the word toilet in the same vein as they do in the UK. They use it to describe something gone bad and I love the way they use it: My career is in the toilet etc.

So where does this terrible word come from? It came from the middle class bourgeois primary school teachers the children met when they started school - later when they went to the dentist children were asked 'do you want to go to the toilet' in a whispered voice before they met the mad psychopath with the pliers!

I hate to agree with the tiny minority of upper class people but the words they hate I hate; I mean calling a living room the lounge is the height of misguided hypocrisy carried out by the arch advocator of middle class madness Mrs Hyacinth Bucket from the TV series Keeping up Appearances; the doily user whose sister has room for a pony.

I'm not much of a hater of anything but there are some silly things the upper classes do and without the upper classes there would be no Monty Python.

The upper classes go out on very cold days for picnics; they gather around some portable stove trying to cook sausages and keep their tea warm whilst their children stand there with snot dripping from their noses, winging and crying, longing for the warmth of their cars – their houses are always cold – and dreading the food that they are about to be served.

They say Dayentry instead of Daventry, deteriate instead of deteriorate and the way they pronounce charabanc beggars belief.

Oh to be in Yiggieland, drinking Yiggelish beer!!

Next stop Edinburgh – aha Celts at last!!

Shaftesbury Avenue, Camden and Amy Winehouse.

Amy Winehouse.

Walking along Shaftesbury Avenue in London's west end is an absolute delight for me; I have walked along lots of famous thoroughfares – O’Connell Street, Dublin; Broadway, New York; Sunset Blvd, Los Angeles – even the walk up to the Taj Mahal in India – but nothing is quite like walking passed all those famous theatres in London's west end and see their facades depicting what is playing and who is in it.

I haven't seen or heard of Simon Williams since his days in the original series Upstairs Downstairs but I see he is starring in Yes Minister – or maybe Yes Prime Minister. It's strange how that TV series really got it right with the shenanigans that are going on now in the seats of power.

When we were first married, in 1966, we went to a west end theatre for the first time; it was at the Criterion, which is the first theatre you see when you get out of the tube at Piccadilly Circus; it's not in Shaftesbury Avenue itself but the other side of Eros which is the famous fountain on the island there which is the start of Shaftesbury Avenue.

We saw Loot, by Joe Orton; it starred Simon Ward and Michael Bates played Inspector Truscott; the role was written for Kenneth Williams, who played it at other times I think, who was a friend of Joe Orton and mixed with him and his gang.

It was very funny but the one thing I remember about it, all these years later, is that the female lead seemed to deliver most of her lines to the audience facing downstage; it's something I have come across many times – there you are on the stage, having a conversation with somebody and they are showing you the side of their heads.

The show went well last night at The Lord Stanley in Camden but just as I was driving up the street, maybe a quarter of a mile from the theatre, in a really nice part of Camden, we passed a 'Police incident;' the police had taped off a whole park and it seemed they had turfed everybody out of this particular park. We thought there must have been some sort of attack or mugging but it wasn't that kind of neighbourhood.

There were a few people with long lens camera pointing across the park to the street on the other side – about 100 yards or so. We thought no more about it and went to The Lord Stanley.

Our daughter arrived a few minutes after we got there and told us that they had found Amy Winehouse dead – that's what all the crowd was and the paparazzi.

It came as a bit of a shock just before my show; it shouldn't have been because anybody that knows anything about her would be half expecting it. I don't know much about her material but I know she was tremendously talented – and self destructive.

She consumed something in her short life that didn't agree with her; a chemical imbalance that it's very easy for us who don't have that unfortunate illness to criticise - and there was nobody to help her.

The 2 Sides of Eddie Ramone at The Lord Stanley.

Here I am in London and we landed quite safely; I'll be busy re-rehearsing my show from today and will reply to all my emails very soon.

I would also like to thank the comments that were made on this site concerning our departure from America.

This blog is read all over the world and I'm really delighted with that and I wish everybody that reads this could come along and see the show; it went well in Santa Monica and now for London – then Edinburgh – but if you are in London or know somebody there or can travel there yourself this is for you.

I would love you to come and see my new play in Camden at The Lord Stanley Pub.

Above is the post card; it's a small theatre so I would beg you to book in advance. I can't manage a 'comp' I'm afraid as there aren't any but if you know me intimately I might buy you a drink in the bar afterwards - if I can catch you before you run away.

I'm taking this play to Edinburgh so it will be a chance for you to warn your Scottish friends about it.

I believe the tube station is Camden Town then you take a bus up to the Lord Stanley or walk it if you are fit and well - which I hope you are.

Of course your chauffeur may drop you off and wait for you and if this is the case - maybe you can give me a lift home.

I think the easiest way to book tickets would be via the phone number above as I have heard it's a bit difficult on line. That number is - 07966 597190.

Hoping to see you next Saturday (23rd) and if you don't know me personally and come to see the show please stay behind for a chat.

Farwell America! How were ya?

Margaret on our balcony with the binoculars and drinking Champagne.

. . . well it was great; 16 great years. We had our ups and our downs and now we are in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean I can sit and contemplate the situation.

I know I will miss my friends there and two of them in particular whom I would meet once a week just to talk; I will miss those conversations as those two fellas really knew me and I got to know them so we could second guess each other with just the right amount of ball breaking, fun and seriousness. It will be hard to replace such relationships and I don't suppose I ever will.

I think the secret at the basis of those relationships was that we were from different countries.

There are many reasons why we are going back; if our children had have come over to live in the USA we would have stayed because the standard of living is definitely higher but I think it's about time I changed my work and pursued work in Britain.

In Los Angeles we were in a 'company town' – a place run by the film business; in our building of about 55 apartments we could have made a movie; there were enough actors to cast it, there were cinematographers, sound men, producers, directors, film score composers, grips, make-up and various other crew members.

At the auctioneers, where my wife worked, the porters, as they are called at other auction houses in London for example, are called 'the crew.' So the vernacular overflows into the general populous.

So all this goes through my head as I relax on deck; I have described the train journey, which was a long train journey by anybody's standards, and I have often wondered about the other train journeys of the world and I thought before the first train pulled out of the station that I would be sightseeing through the windows watching wonderful and weird sights whizzing passed in to my past (to push a spelling point: discuss) but that is not the idea; you do see things whizzing passed – although not that fast as these are not high speed trains – but the idea is to meet people. I talk for a living, and as a hobby it seems, but by the time I reached New York I was as dry as a bone.

The other people on the train were there to meet other people too; they were talkers and listeners and it was a pleasure to meet the people in America that I didn't know existed; maybe they are the unknown America? I met very few – in fact I have to say I met no Republicans. All of the intelligent people I spoke to supported Obama so let me tell Los Angeles and New York – there are others out there; Obama has a lot of support.

The work situation in the UK is going to be as hard as it is in the USA; but being an actor is always hard. It has never been easy in fact there was talk amongst my relatives that the only reason I became an actor was to take advantage of the 'resting' periods. I don't know if they use that expression or ever have in America but it was always the opening line when anybody found out I was an actor – 'resting are you?'

I did loads of films in Los Angeles; a lot of them never saw the light of day. They were small independent films, I would get paid so there was never a problem, but I cared about what I did. I know some people just take the money and run and don't care if they never see the movie again – well I don't.

The main thing I did lately in LA on movies was voice work; this would mean replacing a line in a movie that was not recorded properly. I have done loads of people. That voice you hear from some of the stars is not always them – it's me. I did Jason Statham, Sean Connery, some fella in Spider Woman, Alistair Sim and lots of others. The other voice work I did was general looping. This would be a voice for the extras; when the main protagonists walked through a hallway, for example, they might pass a couple sitting having dinner – I would be one the people in the 'loop group' who would put a little bit of chat there and if it was a period film with bows and arrows etc we would make the noise of the breath going out of the body as an arrow entered it – urgh!!

Very good money and residuals but like commercials not the work I necessarily want to do.

I am writing this on board The Queen Mary 2 on Saturday July 9^th at almost 2:00 pm ship's time which is almost half way across the Atlantic; if you look on a map we are about level with the bottom point on Greenland but many millions of miles south heading in a north east direction at 20 knots which is about as slow as you travel in a car on the side streets.

We have done 1426 miles from New York and have about 1810 miles to go to Southampton; 2:00pm ship's time is 9:00 am Los Angeles time and 5:00 pm London time today; we put put time pieces forward one hour each day apart from the fist and last day.

We have plenty to do; we dress for dinner most nights with dinner jackets (tuxedos) and bow ties and yesterday, for example, I went to lecture on the Enigma Machine by one of the boffs at the Bletchley code breaking centre Frank Carter who is a code breaking expert and historian and I've just been to his second lecture now. I also went to a classical guitar recital and last night after dinner we listened to a big band.

Across America in a train; adventure and tragedy!!

We are on a train and stopped in Albuquerque, New Mexico where the temperature between the inside of the train and outside is vast. We were out walking along the platform, looking at the array of Indian trinkets, blankets and the like and as we were doing this it was over ninety degrees.

The journey, so far, has been entertaining. The priority of time on this train has taken a back seat to the attention to detail, the running of the system and the pleasure of travel.

There is no wi-fi on the train so I will write this in bits over this journey through America from Los Angeles to Chicago; unless anything extraordinary happened between Chicago and New York I won't write about that part of the journey as I've already written On a Train in England in March, or so, of this year.

The first thing we heard last night when we got on was a message over the speaker system from Chip the lounge car attendant telling us he was delayed slightly getting his groceries and had a problem with his fridge and asked us to give him a break and that he would be starting shortly with a bill of fare which includes coffee, beer, pizza, burgers and potato chips.

After a little while he came on again to say he was open which meant that everybody on the train went to Chip the lounge car attendant and lined up; his little lounge car is like a mini Seven Eleven – maybe about 30 feet long with passengers seats on either side – so you can imagine the hustle and bustle.

On the menu it said that they had 'freshly brewed' decaf coffee but when I went there afterwards he told me they were out of decaf!!!

After that we heard from 'Jackie in the Diner' – she was asking people if they wanted to make dinner

reservations; she would say 'this is Jackie in the diner – would anybody wishing to book for dinner make your reservations now.' This voice would come on at various intervals asking people to come in for dinner, lunch or whatever.

Then Chip from the lounge car would come on again telling us he was going on a break so if anybody wanted anything they needed to hurry up and come and get it.

Things were swinging along and we were travelling then Jackie came on the speaker system again and wanted to know if people could hear her as the system didn't appear to be working. Chip from the lounge car came on to say he could, in fact, hear her.

When he said this a woman, sitting close by, used her mobile phone and speaking quite loudly in a New York accent said 'This is Dolores from Delaware; I need to speak to Mr Jefferson.'

This sounded interesting but Jackie came on the speaker system again saying 'I can't hear you at all, Chip; you're not coming through.'

Then again 'This is Delores from Delaware! Can you put me through?'

Then 'This is Chip from the lounge car – I am back from my break; if you want bagles or drinks now is the time to come.

Whilst this was going on over the speaker system a ticket collector interrupted all by saying he was coming around for tickets and 'don't forget to sign them in the top left hand corner.'

Each time he took a ticket from someone who hadn't signed it he would say 'I need you to put your autograph in the top left hand corner.'

Jackie came on again 'This is Jackie in the diner – am I coming through?'

'I can hear you, Jackie' said Chip from the lounge car.'

'This is Delores from Delaware – is Mister Jefferson there?”

The ticket inspector approached us puffing and blowing after climbing some stairs 'those stairs are killing me' he said.

'This is Jackie from the diner; I will be coming around to take dinner reservations, starting with the sleeping section and then couch.'

I sat reflecting about my years in America knowing that they are contemplating an all electric super duper rail system which will get you from point A to point B faster than a speeding bullet and wishing they wouldn't do it as it would spoil this lot.

The food in the lounge car was ropey to say the least but the food in the diner was excellent and

reasonably priced.

There are four seats at each table so you are forced to face the other two people which more or less forces you to communicate with them.

On the first evening at dinner we sat with a Navajo professor and his wife; he was quite famous as he was the first Indian professor – I don't know if he was the first in the state or the country but he told us he had celebrated his 67th birthday recently by walking down one side of the Grand Canyon, along the flat bit and up the other side; he was a very fit looking 67 years of age and he told us he does 10K runs and used to be a baseball pitcher. I don't know if he was a major league pitcher or just played at college as we never got that far but they were getting out at Flagstaff, Arizona the following morning at 4:30.

The next morning at breakfast we met Tom and Jenny from Victorville California famous for the place where Roy Rogers used to live and have his western museum; I remember his horse, trigger, nearly stepping on me at the stage door after I saw Roy Rogers live at a theatre.

Tom and Jenny were also an interesting couple having cycled the world, by all accounts, and regular train travellers.

In the Observation Car I met another Navajo Indian but this one lived on the reservation. As we sat watching New Mexico flash by he pointed out lots things about the area and showed me some black stones which he said were from the top of 'that mountain' which exploded with the help of the volcano hundreds of millions of years ago. He went on to say that they used the black stones (he had a name for them which I have forgotten) in their sweat lodges.

He was going from Gallup, New Mexico, to Albuquerque to meet his son; he was sending his son a message using the modern equivalent of the smoke signal; his Blackberry.

He said he was proud of his son as he took the decision to leave the reservation and set up by himself 'abroad.' He said he had lived 'abroad' for a short time – abroad was anywhere off the reservation.

Indeed it is abroad as the reservations have their own sovereignty.

Later that day, Saturday, we had dinner with two people on their way back to live in Chicago from Los Angeles – we wished them well on their journey and they did the same for us.

Before we met them for dinner – in the usual accidental way – a man two seats in front of us was

getting leery; he had been drinking all day and his voice was sounding very horse.

Whilst we were away he called everybody names and started shouting; someone called the conductor who came and told him off; he sat in his seat for a moment but when she went he started again. Then the same things again but this time he was really screaming so the conductor, a young woman, threw him into his chair, called the cops and they threw him off the train and into gaol somewhere; we were oblivious to all this as we were at dinner.

Chip in the lounge car came on the loud speaker as we pulled in to Fort Madison, Iowa, to say that he was running out of food in the lounge car; he was out of bagles, pizzas and most of the cheese and ham sandwiches.

As the train pulled out of Fort Madison the train suddenly stopped; we had run over somebody. We were travelling at about 15 - 20 mph and apparently the person was killed. We don't know anything about it at the moment but within two or three minutes a cop car arrived and scaled a six feet fence outside; then he was told where the body was by some kids outside.

The latest news is a few young guys tried to cross the tracks and the last one was hit and killed by the train; there's no need to describe what we know or what I saw but you know what train wheels are like; they were all in their twenties.

As we sit here waiting to move a voice in the background is heard: 'This is Delores from Delaware; I am just north of the train station in Fort Madison, Iowa. Today a man was killed . . . .”

As if oblivious to everything, whilst this was going on, another voice was heard ' this is Chip in the lounge car – I'm just back from my break.'

July 4th New York.

There is our train engine resting in Chicago after the two day journey from Los Angeles.

Cops look at the body whilst paramedics call the coroner.