Excellent chance to have a bit of a Sunday Laugh
04 November 2002
What a pleasant discovery to find a live entertainment venue in the Lib Dem-dammed city of Bath, the place of my Twertonian birth and on the spot left to resemble a giant rubbish tip on the Lower Bristol Road.
After my three score and ten annums and thanks to your comedy critic and columnist Matthew Zuckermann, I recently found myself enjoying a Sunday evening of good, bad and not so different stand up comedy.
However, the art of telling belly laugh jokes has largely been abandoned in favour of Skinner-style sarcasm and sniffing cynicism that passes for humour currently.
The venue? An unusual one and one of which Bath can be proud exists in the 18th century cellars of the almost obscure Cavern Comedy Club so excellently run at the Moles establishment in George Street.
They offer live comedy on the Sabbath for those who enjoy a good old belly laugh at life, and, if the crude and rude people that piddle in doorways persist, at death as well.
How splendid it was to laugh even at the expense of the not so funny “renovation” of the once attractive and nostalgically recalled Milsom Street etc. Odds on, the current street furniture was designed by on of two blokes. One, whoever is responsible for the proposed, ill thought out Blitz Memorial through joy, at a mere estimate of £100,00, or two, some arty genius who prefers not to work for a living and is short-listed for this year’s Turnip Prize and relies upon a guide dog called Damien Hurst the Second.
Mind you folks, there is no way the Cavern can be described as spacious with an audience capacity of probably more that the local Tory membership these days.
There is no way an aspiring Jesus impersonator could perform the famous ascension act with such low ceilings. It is, however, a must for anyone in need of a good quaff, who cares not a jot about becoming a figure of hatred to the “We Hate Jazz on a Sunday Society”. It’s definitely better than sitting at home.
Well done Moles, congratulations.
This letter first appeared in The Bath Chronicle
Letter by John Paul Joans.