A fellow of infinite jest

Almost casually, Katie reminded me the other week that we're going out to the theatre again soon.

It was just one of those things that make up the overall pattern - Katie organised it months ago but with the normal run of work/sleep/holidays/sheer unadulterated panic it must have slipped my mind.

But really odd things have been happening. You know that scene you sometimes get in films, when our hero turns around slowly to find that something big - and I mean "this has its own postal code big" - has somehow crept up on him? Normally the director relies on a rapid zooming out so we can all nudge each other over the popcorn and remark, "What a tool...fancy not noticing that!"

Well, that's what's been happening. I'd noticed that some play was getting good reviews. But not just in the local papers. In the nationals. And not just in the theatre section either - on the front pages with full colour pictures. In fact, the play was getting extensive coverage in what people with far more A-levels than me would probably call the mainstream media.

Then Katie reminded me that this play - the one everyone seems to be going on about, the one that appears to be ever-so-slightly more than just a play - is the one we're going to see. Next week, in fact.

Yes, we're going to see the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Hamlet at Stratford-upon-Avon. Featuring David Tennant in the title role. Apart from being a Proper Actor (who started out doing this sort of stuff years ago) he apparently does a lot of running round darkened corridors in some other role and seems to have quite an effect on a significant proportion of the women I know.

Including one or two that read this blog. Good evening, ladies.

Here's a bit of a confession - Patrick Stewart is also in the production, as Claudius, and I'm actually a little more excited about seeing him treading the boards. I think he'll be nothing short of awesome.

Anyway, it was interesting to find out that the pair of tickets for which we'd paid about £40 would, if placed on eBay, find buyers willing to pay £400. Yes, I did think about it for a second. But we are still going.

And if I find anyone in the audience dressed as a Cyberman, I don't think I can be held responsible for my actions.