They say a reviewer should never leave before the end of the show in case the act pegs out and you miss a scoop.
But after four hours of chuckle-inducing action from this energetic 81-year-old, I was confident Ken’s vital signs were strong enough to allow this flagging 47-year-old to catch the last bus home.
For no one knew when it would end – could be 1.30am, some said with a smile.
In fact, Ken finally bowed out at 11.30pm to a standing ovation.
Sticky-out teeth, dandelion-clock hair – looks-wise there never was much for the years to ravage in Ken. In fact, time has been kind, endowing him with layers of subtlety and charisma and acute comic timing.
The show kicked off with a few bursts of his happiness song and some obvious one-liners about tickling sticks, but mercifully soon swerved into a brilliant sequence of fresh quick-fire gags.
The reappearance of Ken in a red dressing gown, following a few songs from an admittedly very good female singer, prompted a sigh of relief.
And Ken soon got into his stride again, exchanging his earlier four-a-minute “shafts of wit” for longer rib-tickling tales such as the one about a Knotty Ash girl so thin that one day she swallowed a pickled onion and four lads left the village.
He may be old-fashioned enough to wear socks in bed, but this phenomenal show proved there is nothing doddery about our Ken.
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