Moon, Carol Moon.

I realised today just why I have such an affection for The Mighty Boosh. I always knew it was partly due to the shows oddness and creativity. Today I realised something else.
I am Howard Moon.
I'm not saying I'm a jazz maverick or I work in a second hand shop in Dalston. Or even that I look like Julian Barratt because that would just be odd.
It's a much more personal matter. I am, like him, the eternal outsider. I am the equivilant of the romantic leper. I am obviously not to be touched. I'm shocked I haven't been handed a small bell and told to wander about shouting "unclean" as I go.
I'm the one who does the stupid things that make everyone laugh and then I laugh with them because maybe I can convince them it was a joke. I meant to do it to make everyone laugh. Or they'll see what a fantastic sense of humour I have because I can laugh at myself.
I'm the one who bores people senseless with their single minded enthusiasm. I certainly don't see any of my friends as real life Vince Noirs but I can certainly see how they would become as bored and sick of me as Vince does of Howard.
I know it's a comedy programme and to read this much into it is nonsense but I can't help it. My heart breaks every time I see Howard fail because I recognise it so clearly. Everytime the good looking, charming and witty people laugh at and reject him I know what he's going through.
I know he's only a character that Julian inhabits. At the end of a days shooting he can take off his costume and become Julian Barratt, successful and happy.
I on the other hand, I walk in Howards shoes every day. Seeing the popular people, the ones who fit. I see them all the time and sometimes even fool myself into believing I could be one of them but reality always comes around and spoils that illusion.
So all I can hope is some day I'll find an Old Gregg. Someone who has hit so rock bottom I'll actually become a consideration to them.
Until then I'll watch Mighty Boosh and laugh, then I'll go back to watching the beautiful people and trying to convince myself I could belong there despite knowing I never will.