Discorporate

The storm has blown itself out, replaced by sweltering humidity. From the relative cool of my desk, many things approach completion: a proposal for a conference diversity initiative gets submitted; an offer for a Glasgow flat is submitted and accepted; a journal article is drafted; our audio book is finally released on Audible; one of next week’s flights gets re-booked.

As evening approaches, I tackle the bathroom toilet. It’s attachment to the wall has been largely imaginary for years and the connector has progressively succumbed to the resulting abuse. I bought a replacement connector well over a year ago and was inordinately happy that I still knew where it was.

Two problems: it’s the wrong connector and the plasterboard is too worn to fit heavy duty plugs. I deploy angle grinder and drill to fashion two oversized washers - and they seem to do the trick. Screwfix in Penicuik has an adjustable connector. All is well with the world.

From Penicuik I head for Edinburgh. Encouraged by Sal I became a “patron” of Amanda Palmer today, and consequently am entitled to go to her free ninja gig in Edinburgh. I go to St Andrews Square, which is deserted, because she’s in George Square Gardens.

I jog through the streets, arriving in plenty of time, perspiring heavily. The festival may not have started, but you wouldn’t guess that from the extensive array of food and bars in the gardens.

Amanda does 2 gigs back-to-back. The first, a small, intimate affair in the Piccolo tent for patrons only. She’s a strange woman, eschewing corporate backing, promoting herself first through Kickstarter and then Patreon. I share her humour and politics -as far as I can tell - but I guess that her bubble may be even more self-affirming than mine.

The second gig is for everyone, and is performed outdoors from the steps of the Piccolo. It’s a more bombastic affair, the crowd largely made up of people who have no idea who she is or what she does.

The same special guests perform at both gigs: local poet Jenny Lindsay and Australian comic Alice Fraser. All performers are intelligent, entertaining, and occasionally sublime. A third, unexpected special guest joins the outdoor gig - KT Tunstall. She plays Black Horse, Other Side of the World, Suddenly I See. For the last track she invites the audience to dance on the stage and, short as she is, disappears into the crowd.

Amanda wraps up with a final Radiohead cover of Creep, complete with audience singalong. It’s over. I walk through dark, warm, empty streets. A veggie kebab from Kebab Mahal, and head for home.