“I saw all these people rushing past, and two of them were nuns. And somebody said: ‘Get out of the station’…”
One of the joys, privileges and responsibilities of The Plastic Podcast is that people tell the most surprising of things.
I’m a bit of a thesp myself, so when I interview Paul Moriarty I’m fully anticipating a series of theatrical anecdotes, and I get them. Tales of playwrights and performers and directors. He has plenty of them, as he seems to have worked with everyone. Paul is mischievous, quick-witted and ever so slightly indiscreet.
Yup, I’ll be Parkinson. He’ll be Peter Ustinov
I’m not expecting the family in exile, I’m not expecting the IRA grandfather, I’m not expecting the getting caught up in a terrorist explosion in Manchester.
But the question is: why shouldn’t I?
These tales of the diaspora aren’t simply one thing or the other. Like the lives they are a part of, they mix passion with pain, nostalgia with regret, hope with bemusement. That any of these people, let alone all of them, choose to reveal themselves on a podcast stuns me week in, week out.
And then again: why should it?
We all seek to make an impression, to leave our footprint on the earth and if this series aids in that endeavour then I can’t help but feel that’s a good thing.
Yes, we do all come from somewhere else. It’s where we go afterwards that counts.
There’s more to come, but in the meantime let me quote Paul’s words:
“Thank you for listening.”
Though he’d probably say it in a cockney accent…