My Father's Day

Sunday will come and go and I will miss father's day as am off to London. So here is my tribute to my dad, don't worry he is still alive and kicking at 80 years old.

My daddy used to carry me over seaweed at beach holidays as I was utterly petrified of the seething bubbly alien mass covered in blue bottles. It was basically moving and buzzing embedded in the sand and the thought of standing on dirty flies scared me to death, so he would lift me up all the way down to the water.

Then as I saw the roaring ocean, I would need the toilet and he would carry me all the way back up the beach to do a pee, as I cried behind a big stone, convinced a blue bottle would come near my bare bum.

He had three other older kids to tend to, but he had to devote this entire time to me, probably worried sick his other kids were drowning.

That's my dad.

In the early 60s before anyone else had one, my daddy made me a skateboard. Yes, an actual skateboard with roller skate wheels attached to the bottom. I managed to stand on it, roll down a hill crashed into a parked lorry and smashed my two front teeth into my upper lip.

We had no car in inner city Glasgow, so he ran all the way to the doctors with me in his arms, spewing blood and teeth. He worked in a steel factory, five days a week, so this must have been his day off.

My dad could repair television's and radio's and even built a whole stereo system way before it's time and he taught me how to solder circuit boards.

One summer's day as he lay in bed off the night shift, 30 kids in our street played rounder's and a stray dog attacked me, biting into my flesh, my dad identified my scream from all the other kids. He leapt from his bed and ran with my bleeding hand to the doctors, I am sure you recognise a recurring theme here.

One winter night I was crossing the road to the church going to the Brownie's for my road safety badge, and yes....you guessed it, I got knocked down with a car.....my dad arrived on the scene and promptly attacked the speeding driver and sat in an ambulance with both me and the man he beat up for hitting his daughter with a car. He kept slapping the driver, all the way to the hospital. That's my dad.

My dad left my mum when I was 12 years old and every weekend he met me off the bus to give me money and share a supper. He reminded me how much he loved me and missed me.

The day my mother was found dead in the River Clyde my dad sat in my house and held me for hours as I sat in shock.

My dad walked the length of a hospital corridor the night I gave birth and cried out loud as the labour went onto for 48 hours or more. When he saw his granddaughter with her tufts of dark hair, he tenderly lifted her up and whispered "why did you take so long for me to hold you?".

When my daughter was ten she went missing after going to the shops and we had to call the police. You can imagine the terror and shock this caused.

For four hours she was in a new friend's garden in the West End of Glasgow oblivious to the trouble she had caused, and playing on a bike. My dad ran up and down the Byres Rd with a photo of Ashley, stopping everyone and asking them to look at the picture. The police didn't find Ashley, my dad did. She walked out of a garden and into his arms, wondering why her granddad was running about with a photo of her. He bought her a bike.

My dad sat in a court in 1996 and watched me give evidence against a man who sexually abused me as a kid, he wept buckets throughout the whole ordeal.  He stood outside the court room and waited for me as I walked out of the witness box and he apologised for not protecting me from this man who was his brother in law.

 He told me he was so proud of me for standing up there and telling the truth and being brave. I assured him he didn't need to apologise to me, that he was a great dad and I was proud of him.

The court officials all stood back as we both wept.

I hugged him tight and he whispered to me "want to leave here, go to the beach? Don't worry I will carry you over the seaweed"

Happy Father's Day Daddy.

Sunshine and Screams

Edinburgh had been basked in sunshine when I arrived last week. I kept staring up to the sky wondering ‘what is going on’ and when it will batter down with rain. (The answer was -a short shower after I got my hair done obviously).

Having decided not to do the fringe this year (which am totally not regretting for reasons you will read later) but am enjoying the gigs and getting to see heaps of shows. Firstly if you like theatre go see Mon Droit at Pleasance Below everyday at 2pm it’s a cracking play about the American man who was obsessed by the Queen and ended up off meds and they found his bones on an Island in St James’s park 3 years after his demise. Mike McShane the actor/comic wrote it and performs it with the stunningly good actress Suki Webster. I saw it twice. My musician mate Roland Gift adored it and he is a pretty hard theatre critic to crack!

So, back to my late night shenanigans at the fringe, staying out late, running to do Set List at 1am (which is a must see just to watch the ego of comics struggle with the subject matter and come out the other end with their headline reputation intact) or SPANK! Which is legend late night hooteypookey comedy high jinkery at 2am- all of which I love.

You need to see Edinburgh in the late night sunset, there is no beauty like it, with castles, steeples and monuments poking the red slashed horizon and offering up a postcard image to everyone with a camera. Then add the swirling pipes, fighter jets and drums of the tattoo in the background and you are pretty much set to vote independence even if you don’t live in my country!

I got to meet awesome people, for instance Neil Gaiman the legendary author/comic book genius joined me for a podcast interview and accepted gratefully The Standard a comic book written by Ashley Storrie’s best pal John Lees, the Glasgow comic book writer.

Neil was so generous and accepted the comic book from John and said “hurrah, something to read on the way home!” I love that man.

And still the sun shone, the cobbles glittered and venues over heated and people sweated and beer was sold in swimming pool quantity’s to fringe going guzzlers. The reviews came out, hopes were dashed, shows were lauded and some comedians affected a swagger that they didn’t arrive with. They are set for glory....

I watched one well known bloke off the telly give a press photographer who asked him to turn to the left -a right hard time shouting “mate just take the picture eh?” the photographer basically threw his hand up clicked and said “fine” then turned to me and added “won’t be my fault his photo looks like shit” The famous bloke (who didn’t know me obviously- why would he?) glared at me (he thought I was the photographers assistant) and said “how hard is it to do your job?” I kinda felt for the bloke, he was besieged by young girls demanding a photo and a press man demanding a decent photo...fuck it must be hard being that famous....all that fixing your hair for photo’s and being rude for no good reason...mind you one person got his name wrong and walked away shouting “it’s not him, it’s the wanker that looks like him” people can be cruel and justice can be swift.

I had some gigs around town, basically ‘taking work from the comics who came up with a show and deserve that work’ as I overhead one comic describe me....she still doesn’t know I heard her! Fuck was funny...anyway I was booked for BBC radio 4 Just a Minute and was shitting it.

If you don’t know, Just a Minute is a BBC legendary radio show that is basically an institution and you don’t want to fuck it up.

I was so excited and nervous about doing it that I almost had an a mild stroke, but as always Paul Merton and his comedy compatriots put me through my paces. I came out the other end and had a great time, you can hear it on 20^th August at 6.15 (same day we do the play #timandfreya which is at Pleasance attic at 7.15pm)

So we all had a lovely dinner in Edinburgh after the radio show and I was so relaxed and happy and relieved Just a Minute was done, I strolled down the Cowgate heading to meet a friend. I got a call on my mobile and it was my daughter Ashley who was back in Glasgow.

“emm...Mum, hello, you ok?” she sounded drunk I think...which is unusual at that time of night, almost nine pm.

“You ok Ashley, what you doing?” I chirped back.

“Am gonna go, speak soon.....” she mumbled. I felt icy cold blood run behind my eyes and my scalp tightened.

My heart thumped in my chest; somehow the mummy psychic umbilical cord whipped across the red skies of Edinburgh and hooked its sinewy fibres over the tenements of Glasgow and slung back into my 26 year old daughter “Ashley speak now and tell me what’s wrong” I spoke clearly as a girl waited for me to finish the call so she could tell me about her show as she flicked a flyer at me.

“Mum am in an ambulance, I fell or fainted...I don’t know where I am” she whispered. She sounded about 7 years old, I could hear the fear and confusion in her voice.

“Call your dad now he is in Glasgow, let him know where ambulance is going am on my way home” I hung up and the girl rolled her eyes exhausted waiting for me to get off phone “excuse me can I have two minutes to tell you about my show?” I stared at her, my mind checking I had credit cards, cash and a quick route to Waverley Station and shouted “no, now get out of my way quick”  I pushed her aside and set off.

“How fucking rude and you are a comedian as well” she screamed at me as my flip flops slapped the cobbles and I made to Waverley Station in Usain Bolt mode, pushing people out of the way and looking like a woman in a panic.

I caught the train and sat there willing it to move, I now know why Speed the movie worked, I wanted to break into the cabin and scream “Fucking make the train go fast -no stops, no Croy, no Falkirk just GO TO GLASGOW”

I sat there staring at my reflection all I could think of was my girl, wee with bunches smiling and clapping, or standing on stage as a young woman or graduating university with me weeping with pride, now all I can see in my head is my beautiful daughter lying on a Glasgow street, vulnerable, scared confused and not knowing where she is. All I could imagine was blood seeping out of wounds, people staring at her wondering if she is drunk, someone lifting her skirt, stealing her bag, watching her struggle to breathe?

None of that happened from what she recalled she collapsed and a woman held her in her arms and stroked her head and whispered to her “you will be ok, am here” and then she woke up in the ambulance with paramedics asking questions. Who by the way when Ashley explained her mum was in Edinburgh as she is a comedian they made a point of telling her they had never heard of me since I haven’t been on telly. This made Ashley smile but she never got the name of the pavement Angel who made sure she was safe. Meanwhile for me the train took forever.

By the time I got home Ashley was out of hospital and showed me her bruises and needed hugged.

She is fine we still don’t know what happened, she had really low blood sugar and we presumed she fainted but we are organising investigation with the doctor/hospital. Thanks for all the nice messages and thanks to the woman who helped my girl as she lay on the concrete outside Italian cafe Paperinos on Byres road.

So we all go back to fringe on Monday 20^th to do the play #timandfreya at 7.15 at Pleasance.

So thanks for reading, if you want follow me on twitter @JaneyGodley for updates.