It's 7 o'clock in the morning. I'm drinking a pint of tea and staring out at an endless British countryside as the older lady across from me rocks a wordsearch like an uncompromising baller. I'm sitting in the 'Quiet Coach' of an East Coast train service as it rockets north from Doncaster to its terminus at Edinburgh Waverly. That's right folks, I'm on my way to the Fringe.
The month long festival that overruns Edinburgh each year brings hundreds of comedic and dramatic acts to theaters, stages and pub basements all over the city. From stand ups, to sketches, to ingeniously terrible action movie parodies there are a myriad of different things to jump right in the middle of.
As much as there are a plethora of things to do in Edinburgh there are also a vast number of different emotions coursing through my mind as I wind my way up to Scotland as a spectator and a performer. A crackling buzz of excitement tempered by a stomach churning wave of apprehension, an overwhelming sense that I'm standing at the edge of a two week long whirlwind that will suck me in and throw me about like a rag doll leaving me a sleep deprived, partially broken man by the end of it. Most prominent feeling in my mind, however, and most importantly for this post, is a powerful urge for redemption.
I went to the fringe in 2011 with my improv group The Shrimps to perform our four star show Shrimpology. We had a flat in a prime location and we all had enough spare time to enjoy the hell out of the greatest festival on Earth. However 19 year old me, for whatever reason, squandered this opportunity magnificently.
I stayed in for the majority of nights. I performed a negligible smattering of stand up, refusing to properly publicise myself out of fear and laziness. Over all, I was the most unmitigated square you could possibly imagine.
This year, however, I'm much cooler. I have a law degree and some new shirts. I even have a beard which has been described by impartial observers as 'nice'. I'm returning to the fringe with a new attitude, inspired by one of the most successful improvisers in history, Tina Fey. You see, Ms Fey once suggested that the Golden Rule of improvised comedy, which all self respecting performers follow, was not only crucial for making good scenes but was also a driving force behind her success. For those of you who don't know, the Golden Rule can be summed up in two words "Say Yes."
It seems simple but we all know it can be the hardest thing in the world. Saying No to things has predictable results and allows us to stay firmly in our comfort zone. Saying Yes can potentially take you anywhere and that prospect is daunting to even the most unflappable human. I said no all the time when I was last in Edinburgh and I had a very comfortable time, but I think it's largely accepted by now that the temporary comfort refusing new opportunities grants you is offset by the much more permanent stamp of regret.
So, with this in mind, I have issued a challenge to myself. For the duration of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival I will endeavour to respond to every opportunity, request and invitation with a simple "Yes". It may lead me down a path of terrible fear, excitement and success, it might come to nothing overall. However, even the scenic route to nowhere is preferable to the short cut.
I'm pulling into the station in an hours time. The challenge begins when I set foot in Edinburgh and continues until I step on the train home. I'll be trying to post up developments every few days so stick around and see where this foolhardy mission takes me.
Now I don't have much time left before the challenge begins so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to refuse the flip out of the food trolley.
