Game for a laugh

THERE are some pieces of information that are very difficult to process on first hearing them: “I’m pregnant and you’re the father

?;

“I’m in love with someone else

?;

“We’re going to have to let you go

?;

“Sorry, the two for one on Superquinn sausages ended yesterday.

?

You know, all the defining moments.

“And the winner of

‘So You Think You’re Funny?’ 2014 is . . . Aidan Strangeman!” sounded wrong. Incorrect. Ridiculous.

“Me? Really?” I thought.

I’d been waiting to hear the name Eshaan Akbar, the comedian who in my opinion had just edged it on the night. He hadn’t been called in either runner-up position and I was sure he had to get something.

That’s not to say that a solid case couldn’t have been made for each act. In the two reviews that went up about the night, one reviewer liked the first half of my set and didn’t care for the second and the other reviewer said the opposite. It was that sort of night: very hard to call.

Also, some of the comedians were young enough to have been fathered by me. But since I was unable to talk to women when I was their age (let alone have intimate relations), it seems improbable that I would actually feature in any of their lineages.

So, it took about 20 minutes for the result to register, and that 20 minutes was a blur that included making a dodgy speech; being in a lot of pictures; a Canadian person saying nice things about me going to Canada; talking to a random Scandinavian TV crew; not being able to get a phone signal to ring my wife Martha; Karen Koren saying lovely things; and eventually realising I was holding an envelope with a decent-sized cheque in it.

“Jesus!

? I blasphemed.

When it sunk in and I’d eventually got through to Martha (who’d already found out on Twitter!), I went on to have an epic night that included talking to various industry heads interspersed with a decent amount of drinking of free drink.

I ended up in a late night bar, where I introduced myself to David O’Doherty (introducing myself to famous people is something I would generally not do). Almost the next thing I knew I was on the flight back to Dublin at 8am the next morning with not a scrap of sleep to hold me together.

When I switched my phone back on in Dublin I had hundreds of notifications and lots of lovely people got in touch to say lovely things over the next few days.

Eric Lalor did an interview with me for Joe.ie and then I headed over to a holiday home in Cavan to catch – literally – the last 20 minutes of the family holiday that I had blown off to go do the final. And then I slept. And then I got a cold.

‘So You Think You’re Funny?’ So, what next?

I had already started to write my first proper debut show (something that isn’t just a cobble-together of my stand-up bits with some tenuous links) after the semi-final. As with all early drafts, it’s had about three different titles and 10 different themes, but it’s settling down into something semi-coherent now, which is all you can ask from an early draft.

My plan is to take it to Edinburgh next year, but I won’t be doing that unless I think it’s a solid show.

Also, I’ll try to book some bigger gigs and see what sort of stages I can get on (I’ll probably be dying on my hole at a venue near you soon enough).

The

‘Singlehood’ autumn/ winter tour kicked off with a two-day trip to Belfast and continues this month with three nights in the Olympia (again, unbelievably!).

At some stage the work on the

‘MEN’ show with Una McKevitt will pick back up when the

‘Singlehood’ madness dies down.

All this joy was suddenly halted when I read in a newspaper that Kevin Devine – a stalwart fan of mine and a lovely guy – drowned along with his partner John Lynch (who had jumped in to save him) in Crete.

Kevin had been to a lot of my shows – even the crappy ones – and had dragged along his mates to see me. He posted a picture on Twitter when

‘Singlehood’ appeared on the Olympia noticeboard and sent me good luck and congratulations messages before and after the semi-final and final in Edinburgh.

I got the feeling at times he was more excited about my progress than I was. I couldn’t believe it when I saw his picture in the Irish Times. One of his last tweets finishes with the hashtag #onelifeliveit, which is cruelly apt.

?¢Aidan Strangeman performs his songs in

‘Singlehood’ at the Olympia Theatre on September 11, 12 & 13.