Dispatches from the Fury Road: Week 2

I’ve officially been in isolation for a month now and I feel great!

I’d by lying if I said I don’t miss the good old days when a six-foot ten man could carry me through an audience to the stage like a myopic koala desperate for a fresh gum leaf. Yet here I am, my only-child skills coming to the fore, with the words boredom and loneliness as foreign to me as a TV executive having an original thought. I’m finding that every day is an adventure that stretches long into the night accompanied by a couple of bottles of red. Soon I’ll move onto the scotch and really take this to the next level. I’m already in a vicious battle of wills with my Fire Alarm over the simple fact it can’t tell the difference between me on fire and a lightly cooked piece of toast. I’m guessing the brown spirits will really give me an edge for when we finally throw down. Is this a sign I’m slowly slipping into insanity? I asked my toy monkey Terry what he thought and he thinks I’m handling it really well. Fun Hammo Fact: Terry is one of the few people in Chez J I fully trust.

I’ve made a deal with myself that any time I take a phone call I have to walk around inside my apartment to maintain a level of exercise. I’m very good at eating when stressed and with the lack of work on the horizon and the fact that after twenty plus years in the comedy industry I have just enough real life skills to hold a moderately sized stop sign, I have really nailed the ability to eat throughout the day and night. Thank goodness for the steady stream of pinot noir to give me respite from the constant need to snack. If I’m going to constantly gorge my way through a delicious feast of regret, I go the full Aaron Sorkin and walk while I talk. Yesterday over the course of three phone conversations I managed to nail 17,000 steps. I now have a gorgeous figure 8 worn into my carpet. If you lay horizontally on my lounge that number looks like an infinity sign which sums up how long I suspect I’ve actually gone without seeing anyone.

Earlier today I spoke to everyone’s favourite uncle Anthony “Leeeeeehmo” Lehmann about the lack of sport in our life and what might be needed to bring it back to the masses. We came up with some interesting ideas while I knocked off another 6,000 steps. Tennis feels like it could be easily rebooted with every player going into isolation for two weeks before the next tournament begins. Once cleared of any viral symptoms, they enter the draw where they not only compete but are expected to pick up their own tennis balls. Wouldn’t it be great to see these millionaire players have to carry out what us mere mortals do when we go for a hit on a Sunday afternoon? That way we get to watch the matches and they get to feel like ordinary people for a change. They also don’t need to shake the umpires hand which I feel would suit Nick Kyrgios just fine. Netball feels like it’s ready to go because you’re already not allowed within 3 feet of another player anyway. Just make it 5 feet and you’re applying the new social distancing laws of the land. How about golf without caddies? Fencing in Hazmat suits? Footy in bubble wrap? Imagine the almighty pop that would accompany a tackle and tell me you don’t want to watch this on an overcast afternoon.

I was rapt to receive a bunch of Big Day In playlists from you and had a great time checking them out. I will post another blog over the weekend highlighting some of my favourites. It was a great listening experience and I appreciated everyone who reached out and sent me their perfect line-up. Anyone who is still thinking of curating their ideal music festival please do so and send it to me. The more the merrier.

In the meantime, can anyone explain to me what is the difference between Allen’s Party Mix, Retro Party Mix and Classic Party Mix? All three appear to contain lolly teeth, snakes and a sweet way to kickstart type 2 diabetes. This is the question that has plagued me for the last few days, even more so than the toast/fire alarm dilemma I encounter most mornings. I know I could search for the answer online but I’m more interested in what your opinions are.

Finally happy Easter to everyone. Remember that the J-Dawg died for your sins so it would be churlish of you to not lean into them over the next four days.

Justin Hamilton

9th of April 2020

Surry Hills