Dear Madam: Redux — An Introduction
When I was a teenager—maybe 17 or 18—I lived in a small village on the south coast of England, which is where I grew up.
Occasionally, I’d buy a copy of The Stage, a weekly newspaper covering the entertainment industry, mostly theatre.
One time, I saw an ad in there:
“Fill out this application, send us £20, and we’ll help you become a background extra!”
A background extra. Wow. That’s movies and TV and stuff, I thought. This could be my big break. I started practicing my autograph.
I sent off my hard-earned money, which I borrowed from my mum.
Eventually, I got a letter back confirming my acceptance as a budding young actor. It was very exciting. I tore open the envelope. The letter began:
“Dear Madam,”
Huh, I thought. My name is Jason. I’d even signed the application Mr.
Spoiler alert: I never became an extra. Never got my money back either.
That, I realised, was the first time I got screwed over by the entertainment industry.
In 1998, I compiled a little zine, I suppose you could call it that. I was performing stand-up in comedy clubs and doing bits of performance poetry in art/spoken word nights. So I recycled that letter’s opening salutation as the title.
But I didn’t just write poetry. So I threw in jokes, sketches, and odd ideas I was working on around that time.
A lot of the poets had printed their collections – just photocopied pages, stapled together with collage-style covers on coloured card. This was almost pre-Photoshop. Just glue and guts… and a photocopier.
I recently found that original version and decided to reboot the concept for today. This version includes some of the material from that first tome, alongside new semi-autobiographical ramblings, poetry, retired stand-up, and whatever else I feel like throwing in.
So this is:
Dear Madam: Redux
No, I don’t know what redux means. Yes, I could look it up. No, I’m not going to bother. Hey, if it worked for Francis Ford Coppola when he did Apocalypse Now: Redux, it works for me.
If you enjoy it, great. Let other people know.
If you don’t enjoy it, keep that to yourself and move along.
