“No one’s sent me their book yet,” he says. But as he notes in his book, he prefers it to people asking him to read their scripts. Kay grew fed up of friends and people he met at parties recounting their ailments for his expert attention. This is a trick question, of course, the answer to which no doctor, or even former doctor, ever wants to hear in detail. “How are you?” he asks politely when we meet. Half-cherubic, half devilish, he looks a bit like a clean and sober John Belushi. He’s got a round, serious face that breaks occasionally into shoulder-shaking laughter. Kay is now a 37-year-old comedian and scriptwriter. So it was in that dogged spirit that I eased myself into a vertical setting, waving away the doubts of my wife and concerned looks of strangers in the street, and gingerly made my way to meet Kay at the Wellcome Foundation in Euston, London. Doctors in Kay’s book don’t have time to be ill, because everyone else is sick and they’re busy having to deal with it.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |