Rod Hull & Emu

For those who missed the original telling of this story ten years ago on the radio or three years ago on USENET, now seems the perfect time to recount this story.

This was during the golden days, the halcyon days of Rod Hull and Emu. They were at the top of their profession, and they knew it.

I went, with The Grandmother and The Aunt to see the great man perform his
“Rod Hull and Emu” show at Wimbledon Theatre.

We sat in the dress circle.

There I was, enjoying the show, with all it's little bits and “in jokes” for the hard-core fan (i.e. “There's somebody at the door”), when half time came, down came the safety curtain, and down came little Kyle too: I, apparently distraught at Emu leaving ran to the front of the circle, where I managed to sail over the top of the banister and into the stalls below.

The next thing I remember is being rushed to hospital with 2 paramedics trying to calm me down, and then some room with multi-coloured drip-bags on shelves.

I cannot remember any pain, I think I was most upset about missing the second half of the show.

I must have had a soft landing, looking at the height between the Circle and the Stalls. Of course I was a very small boy, so that probably helped.