We arrive in Edinburgh two weeks from today, and the pace is picking up. We’ve just placed an order for 5000 flyers and 50 posters, with which we’ll try to blanket the city as soon as we get there—we and a few thousand other performers, of course. There will be hundreds of productions all competing for a huge, but ultimately finite, pool of audience members, and I really have no idea how many of them we can reach. It’s directly in our interest to fill our houses as much as possible, not just to make us feel good but because we collect all box office until the guarantee we’ve made the venue is matched—unlikely to happen, but our only prospect of turning any kind of profit.


    We also have to post an insurance bond; mail some set elements to Scotland; figure out how to buy or rent others in the few hours we’ll have before we begin technical rehearsals; make the final arrangements for the flat I’m renting for the four of us; pick up tickets to some shows and concerts we particularly want to see; secure cell phones for our time in the UK; and complete and rehearse the modifications to the script that will bring it in under our allotted 75 minutes.


     One thing I’m particularly looking forward to once we get to Edinburgh is hanging out with my dear old friend Micheal McShane, who will be there the whole time we will. Mike still has a sizeable following in the UK from his appearances on Whose Line Is It Anyway? many years back, and he has several projects going at this year’s festival, including the premiere of a play he’s written. He’s promised to show us around, introduce us to people, get us into some comedy shows free—it’ll be nice to have as a guide someone who knows his way around. There’s so much in the experience about which we have no idea what to expect!