London, Sunday 30th July 2023.

The Adventure begins...

The evening before I embark upon the long drive from my flat in London to Edinburgh for this year’s Fringe Festival seems like the perfect time to compose my introductory MuseLetter.

I’m loading up the car so it may be a little disjointed as I jump up, suddenly realising that I’ve forgotten to pack cotton buds, a staple gun and bike lights whilst clearly also forgetting that there are shops in Edinburgh. I’ve just finished rummaging through my ‘winter wardrobe’ (a box in the airing cupboard) for a woolly hat, scarf, gloves and waterproofs - essential items for a summer month in Scotland.

A month is a long time away from the nest and there’s a lot to think about. I must remember to water the plants, leave a set of keys with a neighbour, unplug all the electrical appliances and empty the freezer. I haven’t done any of this yet and unless I feast in darkness on mackerel fillets, veggie sausages and petit pois, the last two of these things isn’t likely to happen.

This is the perfect time to capture the raw feelings of hope, trepidation, excitement and outright terror I feel as I prepare to step into the frantically frenzied, marvellous melting pot mayhem of the festival. A buzzing bustle, as theatres, bars, cafes, and any space bigger than a phone box play host to this seasons potential rising stars.

For many years I worked at the festival as a stage manager for acts that included Jackie Clune, Rhona Cameron and Fascinating Aida. The year I finally decided to hang up my backstage blacks and my all-purpose pocket tool I performed in a cellar beneath a night club. Damp and cold and stinking of piss it wasn’t the most salubrious step into the spotlight but I managed to find an area of the stage unaffected by the liquid dripping from the ceiling and survived the month with no greater inconvenience than a rat chewing through my guitar cable. Ah, memories.

The following year felt much more professional. I was in a ‘proper’ venue with a stage and lights and a CD player. I had called my show ‘Four Stars And Two Thumbs Up’ thinking it was a clever way to make people think I’d already got good reviews. For the poster I posed with my thumbs raised, brandishing a cheeky smile and brimming with naive optimism.

After winning the Funny Women Award I was featured as part of their programme in George Square Gardens. A haven of luxurious lawns, beanbags and fairy lights. My venue was a Big Top and I was given permission to park my VW camper van onsite to offer afternoon tea after the show.

“You need a gimmick,” they said. “A novelty to promote the show.”

Afternoon tea in my van after the show. Brilliant. I drank a lot of tea, the show got four stars and I shared a scone with Matthew Kelly.

When people know you’re a comedian they presume you will garner material from any situation that happens to arise. Because comedy is observational, this is often true. So I wasn’t surprised, on the announcement that I had been arrested, that most of my friends suggested, “You could get a show out of that.”

“I was arrested!” I cried. “What’s funny about that? They handcuffed me!” They did. Key background information is that I’d just eaten a heavy meal and had undone my top button. My trousers fell down and because I was handcuffed I couldn’t pull them up. “What’s funny about being splayed against a police van in Kensington High Street at one in the morning with my trousers round my ankles?” Oh, hang on…Not Broken, Just Bent became my next one-woman show at The Gilded Balloon. An hour of frank disclosure, inside information and the dilemma of whether I should smile in my mugshots. It would have been a crime not to share the funny side.

And so, the next step in my journey and the chronologically inexorable: Midlife At The Oasis. A joyously optimistic journey through the bewildering landscape of life after fifty, much of which will probably be improvised due to brain fog.

I’m super excited to be performing at the prestigious Stand venue and at 9:25pm I feel I’ve managed to bag a time slot which is actually at a time of day when the fine folk of Edinburgh might even fancy seeing a comedy show.

So if you’re coming up to Edinburgh put this on your ‘must see’ list. Draw a circle round it in the brochure. Pop along and say ‘hi’. No rats. No rivulets of urine. Just witty, relatable anecdotes; furiously funny rants and exquisitely crafted original songs. I won’t be serving tea and cake but if you come early I might have defrosted some mackerel fillets.

Midlife At The Oasis is at The Stand 4, 5 York Pl, Edinburgh EH1 3EB (0131 558 7272) from August 4th - 27th (not 14th) at 9:25pm.

Tickets available here: https://www.thestand.co.uk/fringe/1620/lara-a-king-midlife-at-the-oasis