tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84804942529062517242024-03-14T01:20:56.071-04:00One Girl's GiggleA laughing place.Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-71255218451150696682014-12-05T22:24:00.000-05:002014-12-05T22:24:31.339-05:00Comin' 'Round Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
yeah, I know, it's been a while. I've been coastin' on residuals, spinnin' the previous hits like a Golden Oldies station.<br />
<br />
It's not that I don't have new inspiration, or pages of notes I haven't shared.<br />
<br />
It's mostly because real life changed a lot this year, and writing paid the price.<br />
<br />
But I have still been seeing some great shows, laughing hard at real artistry and cleansing my brain's palate with all the dark comedy matter I can take in. I've been failing to give back, though, failing to share. And today I was given the greatest eye opener when I was telling someone who knows me professionally about this blog and my addiction. I was told, "You have such a cool life!" <br />
<br />
The truth is, I DO have a cool life. And awesome friends who do amazing things. And moments of sheer joy that leave me breathless from laughter. This blog started as a notebook. It evolved from some really straight, brief reviews that are hardly worth reading, into a collection of pieces that try to blend my voice with the comic's, that I enjoy writing and sharing and that feel like a real part of my own art.<br />
<br />
So, tomorrow night, I'm going to the Syracuse Funny Bone to see Owen Benjamin for the first time. I'll write about it in the coming week. And then I'll head into my back pages, my napkin collection and my memory files and tell you about the most recent Jeremy Essig, Paul Hooper and Theo Von shows, the amazing time I spent at Laugh Your Asheville Off last summer and more recently at Lucy Fest, the fact that I love taking comedy road trips and would happily spend a week or two as a chauffer for one DUI-hindered comic whose material moves me. <br />
<br />
This blog has brought me some unexpected moments, and maybe it's become less of a notebook and more of a road map, a way to trace a journey I wasn't necessarily aware that I was on. I chastise myself quite a bit for only half-committing to following my passions, but that's partly because they pull me in such different directions that I haven't found the way to fully integrate them. In my real life, we talk all the time about working with the whole child, taking a holistic approach, and I don't see myself approaching my own life that way. Here I am, blessed with this natural curiosity about so many things - or adult ADD, I'm not completely sure yet - and I sometimes don't see what a cool whole I'm creating when I crazy-quilt them all together.<br />
<br />
So. Owen Benjamin, and one of my dearest comedy friends, Austin Lafond, tomorrow night at the Funny Bone in Syracuse. Then back here for a meet-up with you guys. <br />
<br />
hopefully, you'll dig the new playlist.<br />
<br />
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-7243741869592450072014-07-28T23:15:00.000-04:002014-08-07T00:01:21.500-04:00June/July 2014 Loser – A Live Action G(sh)ame Show <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: black;">Like so many of these blogs, this
one starts with a familiar scenario: something I watched or listened
to as a kid. Because comedy has been in my life a long time, the
points of reference are extensive, and I think it's probably typical
of people my age to be nostalgic for the comforts of youth. One of
mine was my parents' 8-track player. It sat on a small, dark brown
record stand that housed the family vinyl collection. Sliding open
those doors was like slipping through a magic portal into cathedral
halls and polka tents, maritime museums and, thanks to the 45s of my
older siblings, the occasional classic rock concert. While the vinyl
ultimately turned me into the woman I am today – and inspired the
new blog I'm working on – there came a point where the hassle of
unstacking crochet patterns, school yearbooks, extra pillows, the
green glass rooster candy dish and all the other stuff we kept piled
on top of the stereo console, was too much effort. A Sears
solid-state 8-track player became our primary sound system. Despite
the range of acts we had to tolerate to listen as a family, there
were a few classics that made everyone happy. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">“<span lang="en">Zingers From the
Hollywood Squares” was one of those tapes. A collection of the
funniest bits from the classic tv panel game show, Zingers was
released by Events Records in 1974. The first quip on the tape, after
Peter Marshall's intro, is a question to Paul Lynde. “In Alice in
Wonderland, who kept crying 'I'm late, I'm late'?” Paul's response?
“Alice, and her mother's just sick about it.” Innuendos and
double entendres with some of the funniest comedic actors of the
time: Rich Little, Rose Marie, Red Foxx, Karen Valentine, Charlie
Weaver, Burt Reynolds, Mel Brooks. Heck, there's even a clip from
Freddie Prinze. My family loved this tape and played it most
weekends, when the actual show wasn't on the air. At some point,
though, the tape heads dried out and I had to give up this precious
piece of comedy history.</span></span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="cite_ref-2"></a><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">According
to Wikipedia, that bastion of genius juice formed from our collective
kool aid and the occasional splash of actual research, “a </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"><b>panel
game</b></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"> or </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"><b>panel
show</b></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"> is a
radio or television game show in which a panel of celebrities
participates.” Panelists may compete with each other, play with/for
guest contestants, such as on Hollywood Squares, Match Game or
Password, or do both. “The genre can be traced to 1938, when
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Information_Please"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"><i>Information
Please</i></span></span></a></u></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">
debuted on </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">U.S.</span></span></a></u></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">
Radio... The modern trend of comedy panel shows can find early roots
with </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop_Me_If_You've_Heard_This_One"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"><i>Stop
Me If You've Heard This One</i></span></span></a></u></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">
in 1939 and </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Can_You_Top_This%3F"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en"><i>Can
You Top This?</i></span></span></a></u></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">
in 1940. While panel shows were more popular in the past in the U.S.,
they are still very common in the United Kingdom.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">And those shows are how I get my
Brit wit fix today. Thanks to 8 Out of 10 Cats, Mock the Week, Have
I Got News for You and the one I adore most, QI (Quite Interesting),
my list of favorite comics includes Jimmy Carr, Bill Bailey, Dara
O'Briain, Ross Noble, Jo Brand, Sue Perkins, Phil Jupitus, Sandy
Toksvig, Sean Lock and a bunch more to whom I may otherwise never
have been exposed. It's my personal belief that these regular
appearances on panel shows help comics stay in the public eye and
build their fan base. I often wish some producer would revive a few
of the classics, so I could spend the 7 pm hour watching a Keith
Alberstadt or a Tom Simmons try to match a contestant's
fill-in-the-blank answer, or hear a Paul Hooper rant from the top
left corner and a Pat Dixon innuendo from the center square. Alas,
those shows are still just playing in my brain, but Loser – A Live
Action G(sh)ame Show is a great substitute.</span></div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">Created by Jeremy Essig and Chris
Ward, Loser combines a little singing, a little acting, some trivia
and video gaming into a comedy event. Part scripted, part improv, the
show uses volunteer contestants and, at least in the touring edition,
local comics and improv performers to bring to life a twisted
episode of some popular tv sitcom that may leave fans of the actual
program permanently scarred. Personally, I'm grateful. The episode of
Loser that I had the pleasure of seeing at the Comedy Attic in
Bloomington, Indiana, removed all traces of “Saved By the Bell”
from my memory banks – with the possible exception of season 4,
episode 22. Because once you've heard “Snow White” rapped by that
cast, nothing short of a traumatic brain injury will take it away.</span></div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">I've known for some time that
Jeremy Essig is a comic I'll see live every chance I get because I
really dig his material, and he's a great guy, to boot. He and Chris
have been performing Loser regularly at the Heavy Anchor in St.
Louis, which is a little farther than I travel for a comedy show on a
weeknight. When Jeremy mentioned they were planning a one week road
tour, I knew I just had to pick a city and go. Having a little
history with Bloomington made it the logical choice. </span>
</div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">I gotta' say, The Comedy Attic is
worthy of all its recent hype. Low-ceilinged, intimate, with tables
in front and off stage right, there doesn't seem to be a bad seat or
dead spot in the room. A screen is lowered for tonight's accompanying
slides over what appears, from my vantage point, to be a real brick
wall. Maybe it isn't. I didn't go cop a feel. I'm simply saying, from
where I sat, it looked real. And I've been in plenty of clubs where
the bricks look like a backdrop from a middle school musical. Most
people wouldn't care, but if the comic doesn't grab me, the scenery
will, and I tend to notice the details. Open for only fiveish years,
The Comedy Attic is a great venue to see a favorite, as well as a
yet-to-be-known, and Dayna and Jared should be proud of the job
they're doing.</span></div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">Ok. On to the show. For those of
you who read my blog, be aware I'm not going to do my usual
set-quoting analysis here. At 7, I wasn't aware of Bruce Vilanch and
the writers' room. Part of the joy of Hollywood Squares, for me, was
thinking all those celebrities were just that quick and funny. And so
it is with Loser: I don't need to know who wrote what, who made what
up, everyone seems quick and funny. On this night, Chris tells the
audience it's good to be in Bloomington for the first time, and asks
“What's your main export?” Someone yells out “Graduate
degrees,” and I know the audience is ready for this ride. Jeremy
serves as the host and welcomes everyone to this “game show done
poorly” where audience participation and enthusiasm are required.
On the screen, fake sponsors' ads are like Wacky Packages on meth.
Six contestants take the stage, and we get underway.</span></div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">Part one is all about music.
First, a progression of clues are given about a particular performer
or band. This is followed by photo identification of the band
members. Finally, a team member sings a song from the band,
accompanied by Jeremy on guitar and Chris on a tiny drum kit.
Audience vote awards points for getting the lyrics correct. As
someone who spent most of her late teen years hanging with guy
friends and their garage bands, I've been waiting for this. It's one
thing to hear someone described as a rocker-turned-comic; it's
something else entirely to watch them play. Tonight's contestants got into their performances and the audience dug it. </span>
</div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">Part two is called “Move out of
my fucking basement!” After a few questions about video games, one
member of each team goes head to head playing some obscure title
while trying to down the most Totino's pizza rolls (who, by giving
the guys a bunch of coupons for free product, have become a tour
sponsor). Tonight, due to some wild miscalculations about the
portability of delicious frozen snack foods, The Comedy Attic has
graciously provided fried mozzerella sticks for the challenge. The
contestants are a couple, who both manage to play admirably and swallow a
decent number of cheese sticks without the need for medical
attention. We are rightfully impressed.</span></div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">Part three is a little number they
call “Shitty Accent Superhero Charades”, and it is just what it
sounds like. Two team members are given superhero identities,
regional dialects and a scene to improv, and the third team member
has to guess all three elements. Part four brings to the stage the
Intergender Sitcom Theater to perform a parody sketch from an '80s or
'90s tv show, filtered through the skewed views of Jeremy and Chris,
and presented by a collection of local comics and improv actors.
During this tour, the sitcom was “Saved By the Bell”. The sketch
was hilarious, fun for both the audience and actors alike, and the
final questions resulted in the spewing of the not-so-secret green
room antics of Dustin Diamond. Prizes for the winning team included
second-hand bras, Easter candy and pictures of the Pope (Chris,
thanks for the Sinead flashback!).</span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">With Evan Rowe as their
technical director and Kelsey McClure in the role of tour manager,
Loser hit seven cities in seven days and had some cool adventures
along the way. You can go to
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://blogs.riverfronttimes.com/rftmusic/2014/06/losers_on_the_road_day_1_-_days_of_wine_and_rosie.php"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">http://blogs.riverfronttimes.com/rftmusic/2014/06/losers_on_the_road_day_1_-_days_of_wine_and_rosie.php</span></span></a></u></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en">
to read their own account of the journey. </span></span>
<br />
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">As I said way back at the
beginning of this blog, I have a warm spot in my heart for panel game
shows and the comics who make them so entertaining. I have every
episode of QI in my collection. I watch repeats of Match on the Game
Show Network. I even bought the rereleased “Zingers” on cd. And
now that I've seen Loser live, now that I know Jeremy and Chris can
move a room full of people to unbridled laughter with a few
instruments, some random trivia and a suitcase full of meaningless
prizes, this show will fall into my “must see” category every
chance I get. </span></div>
<br />
<div lang="en">
<span style="color: black;">I hope they tour again. I hope the
clubs are packed. I hope they start the comic game show revival.</span></div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-20417563420207652452014-07-13T15:22:00.000-04:002014-07-13T15:22:22.558-04:00Classroom Assignment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
While cleaning out the overstuffed,
disorganized drawers in my roll-top writing desk, I found some relics
that distracted me from the mission at hand. The story collection
from 3<sup>rd</sup> grade was expected; I've carried it from home to
home for nearly 40 years, a reminder that the most constant
relationship in my life has been the one I have with words. Behind
its faded purple construction paper was an unmarked manilla folder;
inside, a dozen English Comp assignments from my senior year of high
school. Tucked among compare/contrast, incident and example
paragraphs was the following:<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<i>Laugh, Clown, Laugh</i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Buster Keaton, thought to be one of
the best comedians of the silent film age, spent his childhood being
brutally abused in his parents' vaudeville show. He made his fortune
by suppressing his pain behind a dead-pan, unreadable face. The Marx
Brothers, comedy's first family, had many painful years of
altercation, yet created some of the funniest moments in film history
together. These men, as well as such greats as Fanny Brice, Lenny
Bruce, Freddy Prinze and John Belushi, knew how to transform their
hard knocks into knock-knocks, their punches into punch lines and
their troubles into cream pies. Someone once said that humor is the
instinct for taking pain playfully. The comedians most responsible
for keeping America laughing seem to support this statement. Despite
personal tragedies such as child abuse, alcoholism, drug abuse,
mental breakdowns, marital problems and suicide, the humor keeps
coming out from within them. When I see Pierrot's painted face with a
tear resting in the corner of its eye, I can truly appreciate his
playful antics, knowing it is his pain that keeps my smile in place.</i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
Besides proving that my level of
pretension hasn't changed much over the years, it was still a bit
surprising for me to read what I had written and turned in for
grading on May 29<sup>th</sup>, 1984. I know I've loved comedy for as
long as I've loved anything, but I thought my compulsion to analyze
it, to write about it, came later in life. Came maybe from my
friendship with Tiny or my first time meeting in person a comic I'd
only known from television (Tom Rhodes, who is pure magic and whose
weekend in Rochester will always be among my top ten live comedy
experiences). I thought One Girl's Giggle was a place to keep notes
for something seemingly more relevant than a blog, that these brief
pieces were all just put here to pin them down in time, to make sure
the thoughts were accessible when I had a higher purpose for them.
The early reviews aren't even well written, because I wasn't thinking
of them so much as anything that needed to do more than recount a
show. When my friend Anna said some of the pieces made her feel like
she had been there, I was flattered. And then I felt it was important
to do better, to not only share what I'd heard, but also how those
jokes moved or maddened me.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finding this paper was a reminder that
comedy has held value and meaning for me for a long time, and trying
to communicate that with others isn't a recent development. Sure, it
wasn't a very deep analysis. Who was I to call the Marx Brothers
“America's First Family of Comedy?” That title went to the Wayans
in 1990, and seems to have stuck. Recently, Judd Apatow and his wife,
Leslie Mann, have been called comedy's first family in an article or
two. But there I was, in 1984, bestowing it with absolute certainty,
to Groucho, Harpo, Chico, Zeppo and the other one. Ok, I know it's
Gummo, who stopped performing with his brothers before they hit
Broadway, but had a lovely career after his release from the Army as
a woman's dress/cloth salesman, and followed that up by becoming a
talent agent who successfully represented his brothers for many
years.
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I loved the Marx Brothers. I remember
watching Duck Soup, Horse Feathers, A Night at the Opera, A Day at
the Races and Room Service with my father on our console TV, an
awkwardly twisted wire clothes hanger standing in for the antennae
one of us kids probably broke off and hid somewhere. My father was
not the most emotional of men, though not unusual for his generation.
Our Saturdays were full of the Marx Brothers, Abbott and Costello,
the Keystone Cops, and Benny Hill. Nearly all the memories I have of
his 6' 3” frame shaking from laughter are associated with those
movies. And Hee-Haw, but that's a whole nother story.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have always been able to express my
opinion on a topic with certainty, with a resolute belief in whatever
I am saying. I just wasn't aware, until this morning, that I had
applied that single-mindedness to comedy so early on. Even in such an
innocuous piece, written as a weekly assignment for a class I'd long
since forgotten.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
By the way, my final composite stanine
score was 9 out of 9, and the teacher wrote “Very Good!” in what
is now faded red ink. You all know how much I love that positive
reinforcement!</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
More blogs coming, I promise.</div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-51659604178166598882014-06-19T17:21:00.001-04:002014-06-19T17:21:48.908-04:00Giggling Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hey, I know it's been awhile. Just when you were starting to believe I was gone for good - ta dah! I'm coming back with SO much to tell you. I've got a series of Quickies - comics whom I've only seen do short sets or features, but who deserve some attention. I've been to some cool live shows lately - can't wait to tell you about Jeremy Essig's Loser show. You'll love it! And tonight, I'm off to see Gilbert Gottfried at Helium, with my own dear Austin LaFond in the MC role. Plus, Tom Simmons blessed me with a stack of his cds and I am looking forward to sharing them with you.<br />
<br /><br />
And, oh yeah, I've been writing some stuff of my own, too. I'll throw a little of that into the mix.<br />
<br /><br />
So, sorry for the gap. Life got real and busy and all sorts of other things. But I haven't stopped laughing, thanks to the wonderful comics who give this girl giggles galore.<br />
<br /><br />
Off to the club. See you soon!</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-71736754776171267252013-08-23T13:19:00.000-04:002013-08-24T19:06:49.675-04:008/19/13 Chicks Are Funny: July<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In the weeks leading up to this show, there seemed to be a
lot of conversation in the local comedy groups about an all-female line-up. Or
maybe it only felt like a lot of conversation because I found myself in the
midst of most of it. In person, by text, in our Facebook Playground, we were
discussing the merits of funny women. The opinions seemed to fall into a few
specific categories.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
1) <i>Women are funny?</i> Don’t even get me started. That
was not a happy chat. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
2) <i>If women are so funny, why do they need their own
show?</i> This was a legitimate exchange, with good dialogue and a willingness
to explore the whys and wherefores. Ultimately, I shared my thought, that
all-female comedy shows serve much the same purpose as the Apollo and Motown
did for black musical performers. To get the attention of the money holders,
invariably men and mostly white, it didn’t hurt to show that you could fill a
room, sell out a show, bring a fan base. And sometimes it’s just fun to be with
your own, to talk short-hand and share insider moments. Besides, it isn’t a
question of needing a single-sex show. It’s just the reality that most of the
shows we see locally have a 1:10 female to male ratio; usually there are 5 male
comics and an audience of supportive wives. At the club level, female
headliners are becoming more frequent. And some of the women you’ll read about
in this review will be among those ranks one day. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
3) <i>Who said women <b>aren’t</b> funny?</i> I love this.
It means either there’s a new generation coming up that just doesn’t think so
hard about the gender differences, or it means a number of the open micers just
don’t know enough history to realize what an issue it’s been. Both of those possibilities
speak to a brighter future.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In the present, however, there is this awesome show at Funny
Bone, co-produced by Anna Phillips and Pam Werts. These ladies have been
creating showcases for some of the funniest women on the east coast - and a few
from across the border - to entertain intimate rooms and packed clubs alike.
And on this night, the house was sold out. The box office was turning away
anyone without reservations – even being in Pam’s entourage barely got her
husband through the door. With solid promotion and the obvious support of management,
Chicks are Funny was a win all around.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It’s no secret that both Anna and Pam are my girls. And, the
same way I told you that I had to try to check my bias when reviewing my male
comic friends, I would struggle having to tell either of them if they hadn’t
delivered. Fortunately, they both consistently bring the laughter. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Pam is a naturally funny storyteller. Sitting across the
table from her over Saturday afternoon scallion pancakes at Chen’s Garden, I
hear every detail of the past week; even without the accompanying texts and
photos, I can envision the myriad expressions, locations and situations she’s
experienced since our last lunch and I spend most of the meal trying not to
choke on my steamed dumplings. Tonight, I get to hear her take on graduation
parties, the Amish Mafia (Drive-bys must be epic fails. Can’t they hear the
carriage coming?), the ridiculous world of insurance advertising and the
importance of getting smart people to start fucking again. Not only is she a
funny chick, but she’s also a great MC. She’s good at reading the crowds,
working the room. Just like Santa, she sees us when we’re sleeping, and uses
her energy to push us back up to the proper laugh level as she ushers each
comic to the stage. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
First up is Anna Phillips. It would be hard for me to
imagine, among my comedy chick friends, a greater contrast of energy. Anna is low-key,
her wit is desert dry and lightning fast. She starts by commenting on the
entrance music (Spice Girls? Really? Is that ‘cause I have a vagina?), then
goes straight into breaking down some very new personal information: getting a
mammogram and being diagnosed “prediabetic”. (Isn’t everyone pre-diabetic? It’s
a little like being pre-dead.) The interactions with the registered dietician
(She’s talking to me like I’m five years old. Eat healthy fruits – watermelon
is bad. Oh, that’s bullshit, man. That’s probably why black people have
diabetes in the first place.) and the x-ray tech (I don’t like nudity. I take a
shower in my clothes. When she put that slime on me, I felt awkward, started
moaning.) feel like time-treated bits, even though the mammogram had happened
mere hours before the show. Because she’s my friend, I can tell you that this
is her natural state, this is how her brain processes. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And I love that she is fearless when it comes to discussing
race. She talks about white-on-white racism (I can’t co-sign on it, but I enjoy
the “fight amongst yourselves” approach.), the racially divided reaction to her
not voting for Obama (My black friends were like, Nigga’, explain yourself,
while my white friends were like, Explain yourself, Nigger.) and the way she
uses history against her supervisor (She asks me to bring her a cup of coffee,
I say “yes, Massa, right away.” She says never mind, let me get you some. I
like my coffee with a little white guilt.) She ends by addressing her black
guilt: I tip 70% to make up for those who came before. </div>
<br />
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Anna and Pam will both be on next month’s show. See them in
person, because I don’t really do justice to either of them here.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Next on the bill is Anne Lin. She dives right in with the
difficulties of growing up Asian in a small town (I went to a small school
where I was ALL the minority.), having a dad who she describes as a Chinese
redneck (pick a different American dream, one with fewer Jeff Foxworthy jokes),
waiting ‘til college to have sex (I’m Asian. I was an overachiever. I didn’t
realize freshman 15 was about weight….). I really like Anne’s joke writing. “My
dad has a deer head mounted on the wall, with Samuri swords crossed underneath.
Like he’s saying, ‘Don’t worry, we’re still Asian.’ Yeah, but not Japanese.” Or
this one, about a guy who is hitting on her: “’<st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Taiwan</st1:place></st1:country-region>? I love Thai food!’ Never
mind. I don’t have time to explain fifty years of Cold War history.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Anne seemed a little nervous, and the audience was restless.
Talking to her after the show, I learned that that was her biggest crowd to
date and that she didn’t know where the light was, so wasn’t sure when to end.
Those are performance mechanics, and I am confident they will improve over
time. Right now, her strength is in her very smart writing; I am looking
forward to watching Anne grow as a comic.</div>
<br />
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Martha O’Neill reminds me of an actress whose name I still
can’t recall, but she’s boozy and blowzy and full of confidence. She begins her
set by telling the audience how gorgeous they are (I’ve been married to my
husband for 19 years. Anyone who isn’t him is doable). After struggling to get
into her jeans, then looking down to discover they were her husband’s, she’s
started the Cayenne/Maple Syrup/Lemon diet (My piss makes an awesome salmon
marinade.). She has a nice bit about aging as an attractive woman (I walked by
a construction site. Silence. I doubled back, got nothing. The third time, I
actually walked into a guy who said, “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” to which I
responded, “Hey, buddy, my breasts are down here.”) that leads to an <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orange</st1:place></st1:city> is the New Black
reference (I walk past prisons at lunch. Incarceration makes this look
attractive again.) </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Martha’s style is powerful without being in-your-face.
Sometimes, as women, we push too hard to sell ourselves; Martha gives out a
very solid energy that basically says, I know I’m funny, you know I’m funny, so
why pretend otherwise? Her closing bit about reading stories online with her
son and searching for “big brown bear” (Mommy, what was that man doing to
Santa?) is killer. Check out <a href="http://www.marthaoneill.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.marthaoneill.com</span></a>
and listen to her pod cast, “The Joke Merchants with Martha O’Neill.”</div>
<br />
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Next on the stage is Suga Mama, a <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Rochester</st1:place></st1:city> comic whose act I have been
watching develop weekly at Comedy at Acanthus. Suga Mama’s style is
audience-friendly, light hearted even when the jokes skew a little dark. She tells
the crowd to give themselves a hand for coming out and supporting live comedy,
and it’s a well-deserved acknowledgment, considering the house is packed. She
jumps right in with Anthony Weiner jokes (speaking of hard…this Weiner’s a real
dick. His wife is sticking by him. I hear she’s getting counseling from
Hillary.), followed by a Rhianna reference (I went to her concert because I
wanted to see where she was punched) and the new way she has to justify calling
off work (I think my grandmother has died like three times now. My boss says I
have to bring proof…I don’t care. I’ll walk into a funeral home and snatch a
program, no problem!). Her closing bit tonight is about the couple who were
born on the same day, eloped at 18, spent 75 years together and died a day
apart: She’s up in Heaven, he shows up. She’s like, “Damn, I can’t get one day
to myself?” Catch Suga Mama at open mics and local shows in the WNY area. </div>
<br />
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Thanks to Pam’s orchestration, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Becky</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Bays</st1:placename></st1:place>
takes the spotlight to people chanting her name and cheering; because of her
own wit and wonderfulness, the laughter and cheering continue throughout her
entire set. This is my introduction to Becky.</div>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
I’m visiting from <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Toronto</st1:place></st1:city>. I was approached by a homeless guy
asking if I could spare some change. I said no. He told me to go fuck myself.
“Sir, that is <b>never</b> my first choice. I may have to, though, given our
lack of chemistry.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I honestly spit water on myself. Here is this very petite,
proper woman tapping my shoulder with these simple premises - did you know
birds eat one and a half times their weight in food each day? – and then
landing the punch – I DO eat like a bird! – right upside my brain. I struggled
not to miss a single joke while scribbling like a mad woman so I could do her
justice in this review. I’m going to offer you a few of my favorites, then compel
you with all my psychic strength to go to <a href="http://www.beckybays.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.beckybays.com</span></a>
and watch her video clips. This one, you need to see for yourself!</div>
<br />
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“I can’t date younger guys. The judge was very specific….”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“The trainer told me, Becky, I never want you to do a
regular crunch again. I’m waaay ahead of you. I stopped years ago.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
She’s in a museum in <st1:country-region w:st="on">Croatia</st1:country-region>
when she overhears Joanne from <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Nebraska</st1:place></st1:state>
say, “If I hadn’t run into you ten minutes ago, I would have missed this. That
was God – God wanted me to see this.” So <st1:country-region w:st="on">Haiti</st1:country-region>
and <st1:place w:st="on">Darfur</st1:place> fell through the cracks because God
was too busy helping Joanne set her travel plans.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
While sharing her one great skill (spelling and grammar)
which has no modern application except being a complete asshole on blogs and
Facebook: Oh, you “alluded” them? Hahaha. I think you mean “elude”. Oh, you
should “of” done that? Perhaps you mean should “have.” When you say you allowed
your seven year old to do something and you spell it a-l-o-u-d, aren’t you just
really saying she’s already exceeded your level of education?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“My mother said, never assume. It makes you a bitch.”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Go to Becky’s web site and listen to her tell the tales of
meat chunk showers in 19<sup>th</sup>-century <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Kentucky</st1:place></st1:state>, people who believe everything
happens for a reason and Haida beds. Follow her on twitter. Personally, I’m
waiting for the “Becky Bays Quirk-A-Day” desk calendar. </div>
<br />
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Working our way to tonight’s headliner, the audience has
been engaged, excited and expressive: <st1:place w:st="on">Erin</st1:place>
Judge comes out swinging. “Lots of promises in hip hop music to do it until the break
of dawn. Guys don’t do that. Maybe if you start at, like, ten minutes to dawn.”
“I’m bisexual. If you don’t know what that means, is, you’re my type. Unless
you’re a type that wouldn’t like me back, like gay dudes or the Amish.” People
can’t seem to wrap their mind around her bisexuality. “’You have so many
choices, oh my god, Erin, how do you deal with it, so many choices, so many
choices.’ There are two, okay? Dudes and chicks. Dudes are dumb and chicks are
nuts…with chicks, I end up saying stuff like, ‘honey, please stop crying. sweetie,
I’m sorry, don’t cut yourself’…with dudes, it’s more like, ‘Don’t pee on
that!’”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<st1:place w:st="on">Erin</st1:place> is a skilled balance
of all we’ve seen on this bill. She has an assured manner, a bright presence,
an invigorating energy and funny material that she weaves from personal to
political, like Arachne building a flawless tapestry. When she says she doesn’t
want to be a maid of honor (can’t I just write a check for $800 and avoid the
fake nails, horrible hair?), it feels like a conversation you’d have with your
sister. When she kicks it up a notch (Brides wear veils. I’m pretty sure we
declared war on people for that…our women only do it on the day when their
property and rights get turned over from their father to their husband….), it
feels more like an Advanced Feminist Theory lesson taught by an ultra-cool grad
student. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Here are a few of my favorites from this show. “In case I
get mugged, I carry two iPods. One is loaded with songs about stealing and
remorse.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“People say, ‘I don’t mind God
– it’s his followers I can’t stand.’ That’s how I feel about Dave Matthews.” “My
mom showed me how to put condoms on bananas, which is great because most
bananas I have sex with don’t know how to put it on themselves.” “This car
doesn’t run on fear of abandonment and low self-esteem.” “I personally have
never understood the appeal of 69. For me it’s like this. I either want to be
at work or on vacation. I don’t want to be getting emails from my boss while
I’m at the beach.” </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
There’s so much more about <st1:place w:st="on">Erin</st1:place>
that I’m sure you will love. Go to <a href="http://www.erinjudge.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.erinjudge.com</span></a>,
where you can pick up a copy of her cd, “So Many Choices.” Follow the link to
her blog, So Make It Up. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I am so grateful to Pam for batting her lashes – or bobbing
her breasts, whichever – to get us into this show. I hope every last one of the
naysayers who seemed puzzled at an all-female line-up will come check out the next
Chicks are Funny on August 28<sup>th</sup>. Carlisle Carey, Jaye McBride,
Sabrina Davis, Anna Phillips, Pam Werts and headliner Liz Russo will provide
another much-needed night of laughter, and Funny Bone Syracuse is a great room
in which to take it all in.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Back to question number three. <i>Who said women <b>aren’t</b>
funny?</i> Not this girl. A month later and I’m still giggling. Glad you joined
me.</div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-26906606639765250712013-08-15T14:22:00.002-04:002014-03-10T20:07:00.414-04:008/15/13 Jeremy Essig in 3-part Harmony<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<strong>Prologue:</strong> This piece was pulled together from notes taken
December, 2012, and July and August 2013. I apologize in advance if some of the
jokes aren’t exactly as he tells them, but my memory and my notebooks are redefining
their relationship with each other, exploring other options. I trust that I’ll
do well enough but, let’s face it, I’m no Jeremy Essig. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I first saw Jeremy Essig live when he featured for Brian
Posehn at The Comedy Club last December. I dug his material and was looking
forward to telling you all about him. As the night progressed, it became
apparent that I enjoyed his act more than Brian’s. (Subjectivity, people! I
liked Brian, I swear. I just liked Jeremy a lot more.) Posehn himself said “Jeremy’s
super smart. Now you can take off your thinkin’ caps….” If you know me at all,
you know smart is one of my trigger words. Anyway, long paragraph longer, I
never finished or posted anything about the show. I kept my notes and looked
for an opportunity to see Jeremy again.</div>
<br />
And, lo, it came to pass that the weekend of July 25th
arrived, bringing Jeremy back to the Comedy Club, this time as a headliner.
Real life had me booked until the Saturday late show, but I made it. And what a
show it turned out to be.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
You know that classic Lloyd Bridges running gag from
“Airplane” where he picked “the wrong week” to quit drinking coffee, doing
drugs, sniffing glue? As soon as Dario Joseph took the stage and gregarious
drunk guy started heckling, I knew I picked the wrong week to wait for the
final show. Admittedly, the whole audience was strange and gave tepid responses
to Dario, Sarah Benson and Austin Lafond. I expected Jeremy to be able to win
them over, to handle hecklers and deliver a good set, which he did. It’s just
that, if you read this blog much, you know I believe absolutely, and without
wavering, in the role the audience plays in a live show. This random group of
people disappointed me. Jeremy did not.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
He began talking about porn, saying he doesn’t watch a lot
of it. And that dudes shouldn’t send other dudes porn. “She knows where the cum
is at!” Dudes also shouldn’t end sentences with prepositions. She needs to go
back to school to learn where the cum is, period. I love this. Anyone who can
turn a porn promo into a grammar lesson is my kind of guy. And that’s what I
enjoy about Jeremy’s material. It’s like he’s standing at the crossroads where
common thoughts meet ideas best kept transcribed by monks and, without
haranguing you for not knowing the tough stuff, makes it all accessible.
There’s the inanity of a person of power in a Catholic school telling him he
has to cut his long hair that’s inappropriate for a Catholic boy, while he
glances at the picture of Jesus hanging on the wall. Or the thought that the
real drug problem we have today is not too many drugs, but a mismatch between
type and location. (Small towns, where there’s nothing to do so everyone
decides to brew up a drug that keeps them awake for three days in a row. “Ain’t
nothin’ goin’ on. Better not miss it.” Small towns are meant for ‘shrooms,
acid, so they can see shit that’s not actually there: things like money &
hope and opportunity.)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
His bit about his dog hitting on black guys is one I really
enjoy, because it takes a friendly path to a potentially bad place. His first
thought was that he doesn’t mind that his dog is into interracial
relationships. His second thought: why did he assume his dog was white? (You
assume your pet is your race, but you adopt them. I have a friend who adopted
his daughter from <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Korea</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
“What’s her name?” “Ashley.” “I don’t think it is.”) Race perceptions, our need
to remake things in our own image, these thoughts can strike deep, when you
care to let them. Personally, the way our brain and society handle differences
is one of my favorite areas in which to provide training: high risk, high
reward, when done well. Jeremy makes it look easy.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And that’s what I meant when I used that crossroads analogy
earlier. Jeremy’s approach to difficult topics, like homophobia and
misunderstood sexual communication, is to make them funny, less personal for
the audience and easier to process. When he talks about dating a dude once by
accident (invited to dinner, chicken was delicious, the problem was
post-chicken), he takes what could feel threatening and turns it into a common
experience. (It’s one thing to think I’m gay, but I’m not easy. Think I’m
gonna’ put out for chicken? You didn’t make a side dish, sir.) Everyone can
relate to being undervalued in a dating scenario. His concept that all
relationships end (because one of you will die first) was something I heard
from my Social Psychology Professor during a horrible college break-up. On his
cd, Monque, he talks about people using culture as their excuse for wrong
behavior (Can’t blame Michael Vick – dog fighting is part of his culture.
That’s an excuse now? Because I’m German….), and chastises <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Cincinnati</st1:place></st1:city> for making rules that protect
racists. (Your school system passed a rule that students can’t wear Confederate
flag t-shirts. I say let ‘em. They’re only gonna’ wear ‘em once. Stop making
laws to protect idiots. Let nature do the job for you.) </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
His literary/pop culture references are rock-solid.
Starbucks is like a caffeinated Lord of the Flies. In response to
Build-a-Bear’s Make and Take model, “Don’t think so, Tom Sawyer. Not whitewashing
your fence.” When asked to be Godfather to his niece? “Neat! I just saw a
movie about that.” Buying her 3 American Girl dolls after telling her she could
never have one because of her diabetes. Drunkenly giving some playing pointers
to Joe, and then finding out he’s the guitarist for Fall Out Boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Referring to the show inside a McDonald’s as
dinner theater for poor people. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
For his shorter sets, he’s constructed a great framework
from the simple notion that his five-year old self would be so impressed by who
he is now (Wow, you have $20 in your pocket?) He doubles back nicely for
closure after sharing a great Gary Sinese/Chuck Woolery tale, and I’m
paraphrasing here: if five-year old you knew that someday that guy on the tv
would call you an asshole, he’d think you really made it. There’s something so
oddly endearing about that joke, about much of what Jeremy says in his act,
about Jeremy himself.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Jeremy Essig embodies some of my favorite traits of smart
comics. His material is witty, it resonates and it invites you to take a next
step. It encourages you to ask a follow-up question. It allows you to look at
some real, potentially explosive topics, shielded by the protective armor of
shared laughter. It’s the heart and soul of what I find valuable in the stand
up I love most.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Friend Jeremy on Facebook. Follow him on Twitter
@jeremyessig. Check out his videos on YouTube. Go to <a href="http://www.jeremyessig.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.jeremyessig.com</span></a> to get tour dates,
info on his upcoming moves and to pick up a copy of Monque. You’ll dig it.
You’ll dig him. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Trust me, even though I’m no Jeremy Essig.</div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-31276265726183993502013-06-13T09:31:00.000-04:002013-06-13T09:31:50.548-04:00A Room That’s Just Right: Rob’s Comedy Playhouse<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I have the pleasure of listening while comics talk
shop, I hear a lot about bookers, managers, crowds in different parts of the
country; I hear details of the business side of stand up that remind me how much
of my experience of a particular show has nothing to do with the comic or
his/her material. Going to a live performance of any art, I’m aware how
important the setting is to my enjoyment. I’ve seen comedy in large auditoriums
and college activity rooms, in VFW halls and cruise ship theaters. I’ve watched
in brick-and-mortar clubs built for 24/7 stand up and hotel conference rooms
converted for Thursday-thru-Saturday laughter. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Space matters to me.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Over the years, I’ve been in crowds that felt too big and clubs
that felt too small. It’s so subjective and I can only explain how it affects
me personally, but I think it’s worth discussing. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I’m 5’1” on my tallest days. I can easily get lost in
standing crowds and flat-floor cafeteria-style seating. I don’t carry my own
booster seat, and I am officially too old to flash my tits to get to the front
of the stage (where I wouldn’t be comfortable, anyway). If I am so desperate to
see a comic that I’ll go to a standing show, I prepare for a less-than-awesome
time. I know I’m going to miss all the visual cues of the performance, that the
audio could be muffled depending on the height of the people around me. I know
Randy Newman will be singing softly in my brain all night: Short people got no
reason, short people got no reason to live…. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> N</o:p>aturally, you’d think I’d love the intimacy and great
visuals of the 60-seater, the room where anyone in the front row can tie the
MC’s sneakers and play grab-ass with the comic without leaving their seat. But,
no. That kind of room freaks me out unless I’m sitting in the very back.
Because I never want to be part of the show. I don’t want you to know if it’s
my birthday, I don’t want to talk about why I’m there alone. Hang out with me
later, in the bar or at a diner, and I’ll be your straight woman all night.
I’ll take your bait, laugh at all your throwaways and maybe give you a giggle
in return. Not during the show, not in front of your audience. I’m pretty
certain you had jokes prepared when you booked the gig, and that’s why I’m
there. I am enjoying, analyzing, comparing, reminiscing, absorbing, processing
– I am doing more than just listening to you, and I don’t move in and out of
that state well when I’m really into the act. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Don’t misunderstand why I’m sharing this. I’m not
complaining that I need optimal conditions to want to attend a show. I don’t. I
just want to remind everyone that the environment plays a part in the live show
experience, and it’s good to know your own personal biases. Because I know
mine, I want to tell you how much I enjoy Rob’s Comedy Playhouse, in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Williamsville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">New
York</st1:state></st1:place>.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I’ve only seen a handful of shows at Rob’s, maybe three as a
general audience member, and two as a guest of the comic. Still, every
experience has been good for me because Rob’s is the “just right” for my
Goldilocks syndrome. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p>The room itself sits in an enclosed space next to the bar at
dandelions, a great place to grab food before a show. Check out their menu at <a href="http://www.dandelionsrestaurant.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.dandelionsrestaurant.com</span></a>. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Rob’s, as a room, has a pretty simple set up: a small stage
in the front, tables flowing out in three directions, a sound system that
doesn’t overwhelm the space. There’s a feeling of comfort, like you’re about to
hang out with a bunch of your best friends and watch another of your friends
put on a show. I don’t mean that in a Little Women or <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Garland</st1:place></st1:city> and Rooney way; this isn’t homespun,
bed sheet curtain entertainment. The quality of the comics at Rob’s is worthy
of your attention. With shows on Saturday nights only, the talent runs the
gamut from local acts on the rise to popular road dogs passing through. Rob
Lederman has drawn on his own years of experience as a comic, club owner and
radio personality to create a space worthy of the very affordable $10 ticket. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I have watched Dan Pordum and Rob (and, on a few fun nights,
my friend Chet Wild) warm up the crowd or transition between acts with improv
games that, hit or miss, always allow for safe audience participation. I’ve watched
Steve Burr keep the room in stitches for an hour, while I sat on a stool near
the bathrooms off stage right (your left, audience). I’ve watched Austin Lafond
and Chet both kill from seats along the back wall. And I’ve had the most
unique, and therefore special, experience watching Paul Hooper from behind the
black curtain that blocks light from the walk-in closet within the room that
houses the sound system and glassware. I will tell you all about that in my
continuing series of blogs about Paul. In the meantime, go to <a href="http://www.robscomedyplayhouse.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.robscomedyplayhouse.com</span></a> and
find out what’s coming up. Take a Saturday to check it out.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I like this room.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
And, though it shouldn’t have to be said, let me just add
that liking this room doesn’t imply or suggest that I dislike another room. I
love the Comedy Club in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Rochester</st1:place></st1:city>.
I’ve enjoyed shows at Wise Guys in <st1:city w:st="on">Syracuse</st1:city>,
Comedy Zones in <st1:city w:st="on">Harrisburg</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">PA</st1:state>
and <st1:city w:st="on">Charleston</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">West
Virginia</st1:state>, Nietzsche’s and O’Connell’s in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Buffalo</st1:place></st1:city>, some bars and VFWs in random towns.
I’ve seen Denis Leary at Harro East, Penn and Teller at the Auditorium Theater
(or was it the Eastman?) and A. Whitney Brown at Yuk Yuk’s. I had the first
greatest comedy weekend of my life at the Comix Café in <st1:city w:st="on">Rochester</st1:city>
with Tom Rhodes, and the most recent greatest comedy weekend of my life at the
Comedy Zone, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Charleston</st1:place></st1:city>,
with Paul Hooper. I shared some of my favorite laughs with one of my favorite
comics in the basement of <st1:placename w:st="on">Edgerton</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Community Center</st1:placetype>, in a booth at the Liberty Diner and
under a tree in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Riverside</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Cemetery</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Diner booths
have also brought me wonderful comedy conversations with Theo Von and Carl
LaBove, to namedrop just a few. Some of my favorite local shows happen at The
Space, <st1:placename w:st="on">Dub</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Land</st1:placetype>,
<st1:city w:st="on">Boulder</st1:city>, Acanthus and even aboard the Mary
Jemmison while cruising down the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Genesee</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place>.</div>
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I am not trying to start a riot, Laugh or otherwise (yes,
Dario and Kevin! You’re welcome!).</div>
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I just wanted to get you thinking about the things that make
a show memorable to you, that go beyond who is performing. Maybe it’s the free
parking, the comfort you have with the wait staff, the friends who meet you
there for shared laughter, the wing sauce and the funky cocktails. Maybe it’s
the fact that you can see over even the tallest person in the room because that’s
how the place is laid out. Maybe it’s not having to be pulled into a show
because the comic’s knees are almost touching your nose and it seems
antagonistic not to talk when you’re practically licking someone’s leg. We
bring a lot of expectations with us to live shows, we bring habits and
preferences and height – well, not so much, in my case. Every now and again,
it’s important to acknowledge the role those expectations play in our enjoyment
of a show.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>And, to my dear comic friends who love to believe that the
whole thing rests on their shoulders, that they should be good enough to rise
above a bad floor plan, an over-served crowd, a poor sound system or a table
full of girls sucking more happily on plastic penises than they ever will the
real thing, keep on usin’ the illusion. Do your best, adjust however you see
fit. But don’t accuse me of trying to placate you when I say some of the
responsibility of the show rests with the audience, the space, the universe.
Live performance is like life, it’s a coming together of a number of elements
to form a glorious, amazing whole. Like it or not, we’re all part of the show.</div>
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If your merch sucks, however, you can take all the blame
yourself. Proofread, for God’s sake.</div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-81703493760145176922013-04-22T15:00:00.003-04:002013-04-27T12:46:35.302-04:00Theo and Me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was roughly three years ago when my friend Crazy Julie asked if I could get tickets to go to The Comedy Club and see Theo Von. My initial response was, “Why?” I knew Theo, like the rest of America, from MTV’s Road Rules. I enjoyed him as a cast member because he seemed to be a little more grounded than some of his peers, more laid back and able to be awed. I agreed with CJ that he would be worth meeting, but it never occurred to me that that meeting should come on the way out of a room where I’d just finished watching him deliver a 45- to 60-minute stand up set. Still, CJ was a lot of fun to take to The Comedy Club, or any other room where a loud laugh is an asset, so I got the tickets. Before leaving my place, I posted a rather obnoxious Facebook status about going to see Theo and not expecting it to be funny. I say it was obnoxious because I try not to be so prejudicial about a comic if I have no experience with their work: 1) it’s foolish to assume you can guess a person’s act from some unrelated venture, and 2) I personally try hard to stay open to possibilities, to get out of my brain and let the Universe surprise me from time to time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Boy, did it kick my ass that night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I found myself laughing, if not as loud as CJ, then at least as often. I loved his material, his delivery, everything about the entire show. Once the room had cleared, I walked up to Theo and bought one of his cds. I also told him I owed him an apology. I explained the status update and how absolutely wrong I’d been about his act. I promised I was changing that sucker as soon as I got home, that I would come back the next night for both shows and buy him a beer afterwards, if he would let me. With what I now recognize as true Southern grace, he handed me the disc and accepted my offer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Those three days became more than just a great comedy weekend. I had a front row seat to watch this guy give honest consideration and helpful advice to two kids, barely old enough to be in the bar, about going for their dreams, pursuing their art with purpose and smarts. He talked to us about the opportunities that were unfolding before him because of the MTV affiliation, about being pulled to try so many things and needing to narrow his focus. He seemed to be genuine and in the moment. I didn’t want to miss a second of those conversations, even after one of the young boys spilled a full beer into my lap. By the time we said goodbye late Saturday night, I knew I was a real fan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The following year, I couldn’t wait for Theo Von weekend. More great comedy, a few hours of lunch conversation across a diner booth, and I was once again grateful that CJ had wanted so badly to see that first show. Not only do I like his jokes, but it has been another life lesson entirely to see Theo finding his way down a path that only a year earlier seemed so unclear. He had ideas that he wanted to explore, but wasn’t sure where he wanted to end up. Yet, there he was, moving forward, seemingly fearless. And this guy’s work ethic is sick. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There’s the blog, In My Hat, where you can find both short, funny bits about random topics (Pony, the best circus meat) and photos from his Total Creepers site. Cranktexts.com, where he sends out texts to random numbers and engages with whomever is there to receive them. He released his cd, Midgets vs Cats (which you can get on iTunes or on his web site, <a href="http://www.theovon.com/">www.theovon.com</a>). He continued touring, hitting clubs all across the country. He crossed national borders to perform for the troops and appear at festivals like the South African Comedy Fest and Montreal’s Just for Laughs. And in the year leading up to his most recent return to Webster, he became the host of Yahoo’s Prime Time in No Time, made a brief appearance in InAPPropriate Comedy and recorded his set for Comedy Central’s The Half Hours. I have never seen such a beautifully woven tapestry of hyperactivity and ambition up close, and I am in jealous awe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Making myself move forward, let’s talk about the actual stand up sets from The Comedy Club last month.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">One sign that Theo’s star has risen significantly in the last year is that he was only booked for Friday and Saturday this time around. Awesome for him, but one less night of laughing out loud for those of us still trapped under gray skies and snowflakes here in upstate. Still, I was excited to be camped out in the booth, as this was my first time blogging about my road friend and I wanted to soak in every laugh line. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When I run down Theo’s joke topics in my head, I can understand how someone who hasn’t seen his act might assume it to be – in the words of funny woman Brett Butler – a bigot’s buffet. Tonight starts with a shout out to white folks. (We’re still here. That’s our motto in America. Mexicans bang faster, blacks bang better. No one wants to bang white people anymore, not even white people.) He moves on to Asians and, although there don’t seem to be any in the room, Theo’s got a line ready to go, anyway. “For every one you don’t hear, there’s 40. They’re quiet.” On to Mexicans, covering their ability to sneak into the country (I bought a blow up doll. Took her home, blew her up. She was Mexican! She made me blow up three of her kids. Now I got the Inflatables family living in my house. These motherfuckers snuck in through my lungs!) and their rapid reproduction. (Mexican women can make a baby in about an hour…c’mon buddy, let’s go to work. Say “ladder.”) Soon we’re discussing the clothing (Black guy looks good in anything. They can wear a t-shirt down to here. What size is that, forever? If I wear that, I look like a lesbian about to take a nap) and candy shelf nicknames (Dewey, Pookie, Payday, Rolo, Snicker, KitKat, Oh Henry – that’s a gay black guy) of blacks. Lest you think it’s all about the color with Theo, there’s also very funny material on midgets, a stab at himself for looking like he has Down Syndrome and some great lines about aging, homosexuality and drug use. Theo started the set by saying we were gonna’ make fun of everyone, and that was no joke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Just about every other line out of his mouth was, however, and they were hysterical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Theo’s take on dating (You gotta’ have money. I don’t blame you ladies. Who wants to fuck some poor guy? That’s disgusting. You get done banging and you’re just laying there, all poor. “Can I get you a towel that won’t match any of the other towels?”) and chasing hos electronically with Match.com (I asked if she wanted to meet for coffee…”Didn’t you read my profile? I’m adventurous! Coffee’s boring. I wanna’ go sky diving”…nowhere in my budget is there skydiving for unknown bitches) had the whole room laughing uncontrollably. His describing himself as “Tom Brady & Shrek had a son” or “the Grinch that stole Matt Damon” made my booth mate spit her drink onto my notebook. I nearly joined her over his children in sweatshops bit (Why doesn’t one sew a message for help into the pants? Knowing us, we’ll make it a fashion statement. Like these new “I’m thirsty” jeans? What are those, “a lion ate my brother?”) and his trip to court. (This black guy in court pleaded “my bad.” So I pleaded, “Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-al-co-hol and blame it on the weed,” that’s when they got me for possession of marijuana. But I blamed it on the black guy and they rearrested him. That’s the system.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">So, what is it that lets Theo Von tell these types of jokes and not be walking part of the room?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maybe it’s the fact that many of us have seen him in action on Road Rules, Last Comic Standing. Those glimpses of “reality” may have tilted us in his favor. He seems like a nice guy. None of it seems to come from anger. He has a smile on his face the whole time, and the dimples can be seen from the farthest booth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There’s also that way he has of peppering his accented speech with phrases that could pass for colloquialisms, if there were more than one person on Planet Theo: “I don’t know, Buddy Bear.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I wanna’ look tough vehicularly.” “I don’t know how to talk to her. I don’t know any demons firsthand.” “It’s like balancin’ a warm fish stick on your lips.” From now on, I only want to refer to my vagina as a “sweet little vase you wanna’ put your dick flowers in.” There is no way to hear those lines, honey-dipped in that Louisiana lull, and get uptight. Combine that with his wit (Funata, where Mexicans keep their fun.) and pop culture panache (Blacks are some of the most athletic people on the planet, yet you still can’t swim? All you need is to make a dance out of it. “Teach me how to dougie, te-teach me how to dougie paddle…all this water love me, all this water love me”) and it’s easy to understand why the audiences adore this guy. Each show, all weekend, there was nothing but love for Theo Von.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There are jokes that stick in my brain. There are people that live in my heart. And there are those moments when the stars align and I am blessed with meeting someone who bridges those two places. Theo Von is, to the best of my knowledge, a truly nice guy. I didn’t grow up with him, I don’t know him from church, we’ve probably not spent more than 48 total hours in shared space over the last three years. Still, I’m not the worst judge of character you’ll ever meet. In moments </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">offstage, in quick and quiet conversations and those prolonged by boys with beers, I’ve heard kindness, consideration, confusion. I’ve seen gentlemanly gestures, gratitude and grace towards fans. The Universe kicked my ass to see the first show. And it’s given me a gleeful gift every show since.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Theo Von is a comic who can make me laugh out loud every time I see him; I root for his continued success when I read about a new opportunity, like his recent deal with TBS <span class="googqs-tidbit-0">to host its new hidden-camera show <i>Deal With It,</i> premiering on </span>Tuesday, July 16 at 10 pm ET. Please check it out, along with all the great projects I mentioned at the beginning of this review. You will not be disappointed.</span></div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-29658148303289816962013-03-29T14:33:00.000-04:002013-05-03T20:24:21.809-04:00Paul Hooper and Taylor Ketchum<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There are times when
I inexplicably need to go home, to see my mother who no longer knows me, to
hang out with sisters and nieces and great nieces, and visit the farm, the
creek, the playground. I need grounding, so I go home. In the past year,
however, I’ve been able to bring a little of my big(ger) city life with me when
I discovered that the Comedy Zone Harrisburg is located only 3.53 miles from a
house where the Auntie Carla suite is always waiting. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Naturally, when I saw
that Paul Hooper was headlining there for a weekend, I knew it was time to plan
a trip. I had no frame of reference for Taylor Ketchum, other than that my
friend <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Austin</st1:place></st1:city>
had met him recently in NYC and told me he was both funny and nice. Hooper, on
the other hand, is one of my favorites, as I mentioned in last August’s review
from The Comedy Club. He was just returning from a tour of the <st1:place w:st="on">Middle East</st1:place>, and I was curious to hear what that
experience was like for someone who wears his anxiety like a medical alert
bracelet. I also wondered how <st1:place w:st="on">Central PA</st1:place> took
to Paul Hooper. He told me he’d played that club a number of times over the
years, even hosting New Year’s Eve shows, and felt good about it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I was, admittedly, a
bit skeptical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">While it’s true that
New Cumberland is much closer to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Harrisburg</st1:place></st1:city>
(and the urban horrors my father convinced me existed there) than my own
hometown of Dillsburg, I couldn’t imagine that the wit was that much more
sophisticated. I could barely imagine <st1:place w:st="on">Central PA</st1:place>
wit at all. I have the bias of someone who, as an adult, feels all kinds of
nostalgia and warmth toward my childhood, but, as a child, felt the need to go
somewhere, anywhere, that books other than the Bible had value. My overly-analytical
brain was curious, charged and ready.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">An East Coast
transplant from <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">California</st1:place></st1:state>,
Taylor Ketchum describes his look as “a lumberjack who read a book” or “a
Juggalo that got his shit together” and I can’t disagree. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He starts tonight’s show by talking about the
four hours he’d spent at Bob Evans earlier in the day, which didn’t bode well
for his diet. He tells us he’s recently lost 50 pounds; that’s significant, he
says, because for every 15 pounds a man loses, he gains ¼” of dick. “That’s a
whole ‘nother ¾“ of me to disappoint you with.” Another 175 pounds and he’ll
have his dream penis. He just wants to be all dick. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Taylor</st1:place></st1:city> covers some interesting topics in his
set, heartland ignorance, Latin sideburns, and girlfriend grammar gripes
(awesome bit!) among them. Some of those I enjoyed most were the political
bumper sticker (“Obama needs to go. ‘Nuff said!” I think if you knew more,
you’d keep talking), teen hubris (“No doubt, son, no doubt!” Just once I’d like
to hear one of them say, “I got a little doubt. I am ambivalent about several
things in my life.”) and the ridiculousness of fussy diners (“no, sir, they
aren’t cage-free eggs. There’s no such thing. You have to contain the chickens
or – you know – they leave.”).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The very best part of
<st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Taylor</st1:place></st1:city> time,
though, is when he talks about his past, and the way he’s transitioned from
college football hero to heroin addict to stand up comic. “The E True Hollywood
Story needs to be shown backward.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
hear how he met his girlfriend in rehab, which takes off some of the pressure.
He talks about people who try to over-sympathize (“Books are my heroin.” “Yeah?
How many blowjobs did you have to give for that copy of ‘The Alchemist’?”) and
we all laugh. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to point out to you
that to turn your own unfunny history into real laugh lines is no small feat;
that’s why there’s also a tragedy mask. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Taylor</st1:place></st1:city>
seems to have found a good balance between the everyman and the only man
material. I’m looking forward to watching him grow, and not just in
quarter-inch segments. Friend Taylor on Facebook; follow him on @taylorketchum;
check out his videos on Rooftop Comedy or Youtube<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Paul Hooper takes the stage, I notice two
things. One: the audience does seem excited, they do seem to love him. While
I’m still a little puzzled, I am happy to spend the next hour laughing in the
dark with the very people I thought I had to escape from when I left home more
than twenty years ago. Two: Paul Hooper looks tired. He starts by telling us
that <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Taylor</st1:place></st1:city> is
his roommate, that they’re both neurotic, and that the first time he stayed over,
there was only one towel and it was dirty. “If you only have one towel, you
cannot have guests.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He lets us know he
looks more tired than his usual baggy-eyed self because he had just returned
from a tour of the <st1:place w:st="on">Middle East</st1:place>, and was still
jet-lagged. Performing comedy for the troops is no easy gig, and the audience
showed their respect with applause. Hoop just pushed on, telling us about the
mosquito that bit him in <st1:place w:st="on">Africa</st1:place>, the anxiety
he experienced during all the flights, and sharing a story-in-progress about
what can go wrong when you put military vehicles and weapons into the hands of
comics. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Paul launches into
familiar territory, the jokes I love about children, his sense of
self-importance (The Archangel Paul Hooper would like his driver’s license
renewed. Who are you to question the chosen one?), the promised “incredible
party” that somehow always ends up with him “stranded on a couch with an afghan
and all this inner turmoil.” I hear some of my lifetime favorite punchlines,
like “I don’t know where God stands on the issue, but I’m pretty sure he’s
better than all of us at Scrabble.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But I also notice
what I’m not hearing tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I haven’t heard much
about his father leaving when he was three. I haven’t heard the Roman Polanski
bit, some of the vehement indictment of hometown pride. And I haven’t heard the
usual level of anger, the rapid-fire rhythm that previously told me I was
listening to Paul Hooper. Tonight is different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He’s still weird,
dark and intense. He’s still snarky, insistent and polished. There are still
great lines that just grab my brain and demand recognition: “Somehow my soul is
just south of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Iceland</st1:place></st1:country-region>.”
“I believe it was Mohamed Atta and Lisa. She ruined my 9/11. I don’t know if
you can say that.” He’s still punchy and pushy and willing to throw down with
the birthday woman who should have known enough to stop talking by now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But there’s something
else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And he confirms it
after the show. While it’s true that Paul is tired after all the travel and
still trying to get his internal clock reset, there’s another element at play
in this performance. He’s working on developing a new gear, another speed. It’s
smart and intentional. It gives him a little more flexibility, an adjustment
that doesn’t detract at all from his voice, his recognizable style. It’s just
one more tool in his comedy bag, and it works. The audience loved it. Paul?
Well, as with most comics, he’s playing with it, it’s in progress, he’ll see
how it goes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I can tell you,
though, from sticking around for both Saturday night shows, that it’s
definitely a choice. He hasn’t lost any of the sniper skills I have come to
enjoy in his work. When the lady who forgot to take her meds made the late show
tough for <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Taylor</st1:place></st1:city>,
he did his best to shut her down. By the time she and Hoop went at it, I felt
like I was watching a show-within-a-show, an improv that was nearly as
entertaining as the actual set he had come to deliver. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There’s a CD in the
works. When it’s ready to be promoted, I’m gonna’ push with all my might to get
everyone I know to buy it. It might even end up as a stocking stuffer this
Christmas for a few of my hard-to-shop-for friends, and anyone who needs to
lighten up and laugh, god damn it. I’ll be in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Buffalo</st1:place></st1:city> in April to watch his one-nighter at
Rob’s Playhouse. And I suggest you all go to paulhoopercomedy.com (not
paulhooper.com, unless you’re looking for a State Farm agent in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Littleton</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Colorado</st1:state></st1:place>)
and check his tour schedule. Go see Paul Hooper. You won’t be sorry, unless
you’re a father of 8 pumpkin-headed berserkers. Then you’ll just wish you had
seen him sooner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-460894662534640472013-03-09T01:40:00.001-05:002013-06-05T09:19:42.628-04:00Orlando Jones and the Power of a Single Joke<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This review should
have been written way before today. After all, it was the weekend of November
29<sup>th</sup>, more than three months ago, when Orlando Jones graced the
stage of The Comedy Club. It was three months ago, when the man most of the
audience recognized from 41 episodes of MADtv came to town. Three months ago,
when the actor who created Clifford Franklin, Dr. Lee, Harry Block and Snack (a
personal favorite, although if all of you shared my enthusiasm, there would
have been more than 14 episodes of “Father of the Pride”), came dancing into
the spotlight to some bumpin’, grindin’ groove and started the audience on a
laughter frenzy. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I’ve noticed over the
years that comedians who are known more for their acting than their stand up
tend to draw the “curiosity crowd” their first night in town. A portion of the
room is there just to see in person someone they’ve watched on television or on
the big screen, curious about their actual height, true skin tone and general
appearance. Another segment is curious about the sideshow: are there
bodyguards? was there a limo? would there be a chance to connect and shake
hands after the show? Finally, there are the hardcore comedy fans, curious as
to whether the actor can make the transition to stand up, and usually having an
expectation for success or failure before the show even begins. On this
Thursday, there was a fourth group, of which I was a member, and it was
comprised of people who had seem Orlando the previous year, at a gig he told us
was only his 9<sup>th</sup> time doing stand up. I dug that show, and was
curious to see how his act had progressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It did not
disappoint. Beginning with a high-energy lip synch to some modern club hit, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city> offers an
exploration of the lack of love songs in today’s music. </span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The revelation that his
two-year-old daughter will grow up without love songs has hit him hard. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He leads an audience sing-along of The Commodore’s “Three
Times a Lady”, deconstructs Cee-Lo’s “Fuck You” and gives a profound reading of
LoveRance’s “Beat the Pussy Up.” (Marvin Gaye and Leonard Cohen didn’t write
this shit!) Next, he talks about his mother singing the Lil’ <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Wayne</st1:place></st1:city> song, “How to Love,” and getting a
glimpse of what his father must have seen when they hooked up. Before women
could get too comfortable thinking only men write these songs, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city> reminds us of Kia’s “My Neck, My
Back,” asking women in the audience who were singing along if they also knew
the words to the Patriot Act or the Declaration of Independence. That line is
representative of what I adore about his set: the way he weaves the smart
through the pop. He finishes out this section with a shout back to Petey
Pablo’s “Freek-a-Leek” and its finely crafted lyrics: </span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Do you want it on the
floor? Do you want it on the chair? Do you want it over here? Do you want it
over there? Do you want it in ya pussy? Do you want it in ya ass? (Doesn’t that
sound like Dr. Seuss for strippers?... That ain’t a proposition, that’s a
threat!) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Next, Orlando apologizes for believing what he’d been
told since childhood, that black folk all look alike to white people, and goes
on to claim that just that day, a black woman swore he was the little boy from
“Everybody Hates Chris.” He does some great material on having a baby and the
particular hardships of your daughter dating (When the dude walks up to your
door, or the girl, it don’t matter to me… two words are all you need. ‘I’m here
to pick up your daughter, sir.’ ‘Catch this!’ ‘Mr. Jones, why did you toss me a
bullet?’ ‘Because if you bring my daughter back here any different that she is
right now, I guarantee you won’t catch the next one, motherfucker!’).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The audience is completely engaged and laughing
themselves silly. Orlando claims to be a weed genius (when you’re high, you
think you’re smarter than everybody else), talks about the fear regular black
folk have of thug-ass black dudes and shares one of his smoke-inspired ideas:
we’d find more missing children if we put black kids on chocolate milk cartons,
Asian kids on soy milk and mixed kids on the half & half. I find myself
really following not just the punch lines, but the rise and fall of the set,
the way he brings the audience along almost as if he’s conducting the laughter.
In the moment of the show, I am with the rest of the room, laughing out loud,
glad to be witnessing the skill. The body language, the voice work, the shimmying
through space all make for a very amusing set and, in my desire to tell you
about something else, something deeper and more meaningful for me, I don’t want
to skimp on this part of the review.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">But I gotta’ tell you about the single joke, the one that
stopped me mid-laugh, the one that stayed in my head for the rest of the set
and finally had to be addressed in after-show conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was during a bit when <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city> was speaking of things he found sad,
but not surprising. (when you heard Whitney had died of a drug overdose, when
you first read Michael Jackson was on trial for child molestation); this is the
joke. “Nelson Mandela gets out of jail after 27 years in prison. The first
thing he did? Divorce Winnie Mandela. That shit is sad. Not fucking surprising.
This man spent 27 years in jail, y’all, and you want him to come home to some
63-year old titties?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">My brain just went, wait. Hold the fuck up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">All my life I have been a person who wants to know what’s
going on in the world. I’ve subscribed to alternative and political
publications, I’ve attended lectures, held signs at protests, joined support
and solidarity groups, developed strong and lasting friendships with people
from all over the globe. I remember that situation differently and with a great
deal of passion that is flooding my whole body with overreaction. In my mind,
based only on my understanding of the situation, Nelson had no choice. Winnie
had done some horrible things, including being involved with the disappearance
of four young boys, and possibly the murder of one of those young men along
with a doctor who had seen him in her home. Two years after Nelson’s release,
amid rumors of her infidelity, he filed for divorce. Later, the Truth and
Reconciliation Commission reportedly confirmed her participation in a number of
illegal, illicit activities and ultimately accused her of trying to intimidate
those willing to testify against her in that forum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had some semi-informed and strongly-felt
issues with her, and all of them came rushing to the front of my brain when I
heard that one joke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">One of the greatest opportunities afforded me by Mark
Ippolito’s friendship and generous support is, when the comics are willing,
being able to hang around between and after shows. Orlando Jones is a very giving
performer; he stayed each night, thanking fans for coming out, sharing war
stories with the local comics and answering questions for curious onlookers
such as myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Conversation was lively. He explained how he had met a comic who just blew him away and decided
to learn from him. He shared his theories on how to construct a set, how to
modulate the rhythm of jokes. He spoke of process, of artistry, and at no point
did it feel like anything less than a dialogue, an exchange of ideas. He
listened attentively to each of us, standing close and engaging in a way that
felt so natural, we forgot we were talking to someone whose credits as a story
editor, producer, writer and actor were punctuated by the sheer number of
screen scrolls needed in IMDb to document them: 18 by my count, and that’s if
you leave the MADtv, Roc, A Different World and the Sinbad show in compressed
mode. This man was accessible, willing to talk. So I asked the question that
had been rolling around my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Does the Nelson Mandela joke always hit?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">“Yeah, every time. Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">And that opened the gate to a deeper conversation. I
shared my position, why that joke struck such a chord in me. And then he shared
his.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Given the way women are treated in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">South Africa</st1:country-region></st1:place> and much of the rest
of the world to this very day, prioritizing divorce sent the wrong message.
Orlando felt, maybe – and I hope I’m capturing this with absolute accuracy,
because this is an important thought - by starting somewhere else, or perhaps
waiting a little longer, Nelson would not have been seen as unintentionally
reinforcing the cultural view of women as “less than.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shared my perspective, that her actions
were so antithetical to everything he stood for, that not addressing her
betrayal not only took power from his personal sacrifice, but would damage the
entire ANC movement. I had accepted the compromise that, for a post-Apartheid
society to empower African women, it must first secure power for African men.
It is one view point. It wasn’t <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city>’s.
But by asking him about the joke, and by him being willing to share, I was
shown another way to consider the divorce. Then <st1:city w:st="on">Orlando</st1:city>
told me that he knew Nelson Mandela, that they had shared time together in <st1:place w:st="on">Africa</st1:place>. If you think I sound ridiculously impressed and a
little star-struck, you couldn’t be more right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">When I started writing One Girl’s Giggle, I provided a
basic review, a play-by-play of the event as it unfolded onstage. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was merely a place to keep notes on shows
that I intended to work into a book about the local comedy scene. As I grew
more confident that what I was doing was worth further exploration, I began to
expand them, to include the concepts that make comedy so vital to my own
existence. I can say, honestly and without exaggeration, that this single joke,
more than any other in the past year, has had the most powerful impact on me.
It did what I have told you Whoopi and A. Whitney and a handful of others have
done for me: it moved me from simple laughter to examine something deeper,
encouraged me to seek more information and then gave me a lens for reevaluating
my personal beliefs. It sent me home with more than a punch line. It educated
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Two additional thoughts I want to share with you about <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city>’s shows. Through
the years, many of the actor-comics I’ve seen live have leaned heavily on their
replication skills, doing a set that followed the same trajectory every time in
words, in pace, in rhythm. That doesn’t take anything from the performance;
it’s just a style, one that allows audiences all over to have a shared
experience, to see something polished and worked out. A few have been more
Godfrey-like, having a huge repertoire of jokes and a gift for in-the-moment selection
that keeps any two shows from being exactly the same. The upside is a feeling
of greater risk and interaction with the audience; the downside is that the set
can feel random and not yet ready for prime time. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city> falls somewhere between these two
markers. While the jokes were rather consistently told, he played with and
flexed the order each time, and it had an effect that was quite noticeable for
someone watching all five shows. Saturday late show had, for me, the best flow
of the weekend. The value of paying attention to such choices is the constant
reminder that stand up is an art form, and that an added brush stroke, a second
edit, an improvised scene can change my experience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Toward the close of his shows, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Orlando</st1:place></st1:city> talked briefly to the audience about
words and how we react to them. “I don’t give offense. You take offense. I
throw bitch in the air, you claim it for your own.” Some might see that as a
dodge, as a way of saying “fuck you if you can’t take a joke.” Depending on the
day I’ve been having when I hear it, I might be inclined to agree. But on
better days, it strikes me as a good reminder, as a mantra to become less
reactionary. Reading these pieces, you may realize how personally I identify
with jokes, with words that come from people’s mouths and pens. You might even
feel yourself doing the same with my words. In the end, all of it is just a way
for one being to share with others their thoughts and emotions and, in the case
of comedy, their laughter. Orlando Jones does just that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I’m certain no one will have any trouble finding Orlando,
but I would recommend you visit him at <a href="http://www.orlandojones.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.orlandojones.com</span></a>
to keep informed about current projects, or follow him on Twitter
(@TheOrlandoJones) and Facebook. Also, check out the documentary <i>Looking for
Lenny</i>, where he shares his thoughts on Lenny Bruce and free speech. Go see
him if he’s performing live in your area. He puts on a great show, even if you
aren’t sitting in a back booth with your secret comedy decoder ring, hoping to
discover life truths among the booty clap complaints and white fear footrace
jokes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 8pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The next few posts will be less deconstuctionist, I
promise. All laugh, no chaser.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-83953088568086598622013-02-02T17:03:00.000-05:002013-03-11T11:50:23.347-04:00Dave Foley<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: red;">Note:</span> If you came to this blog because you followed the link from Dr. Eowyn of "Fellowship of the Mind," I just have to know: how is the fact that I asked him nicely NOT to link to this review helpful to any conversation between right and left, liberal and conservative, you and me, us and them? Why am I not entitled to write about what matters to me, the same way all the bloggers on that site do, and not have it used to support a political agenda to which I may or may not subscribe? If you want to rant about Dave Foley and his comments about gun owners, which you find so offensive, great. Do so. See, I HONESTLY support your right to say what you want. I'm not interfering with you in any way. So why is it ok to interfer with me? I work with club managers, comics and marketing professionals. Using my positive review to support a negative message may make comics think twice about talking to me; the club owner may decide not to let me have the access I currently do. Why do I become collateral damage in your war of words? PLEASE, ask Dr. Eowyn to take down the link. He can quote Dave Foley's act any way he wants. He does not need to link to my blog to do so. Thank you for considering the welfare of another real human being.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This review is going to drive some of you over the edge. It’s going to make you think I am one silly, silly woman with no perspective, no sense of proportion, no ability to discern what’s important in life. And that could not be further from the truth. For twenty years, my day jobs have kept me grounded – almost buried –in the deep, dark realities of impoverishment. Not simple poverty, although I know that place well, but truly “deprived of natural richness or strength”, fellow travelers deprived emotionally, spiritually, intellectually or intimately. I have perspective. I know, many times, a joke is just a joke.<br />
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But sometimes, as witnessed in my own life time and again, a joke is so much more.</div>
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It’s an expression of hope, a declaration of identity, a blow to the system and, in the words of Sarah McLachlan, a fumbling toward ecstasy. A joke can reach across a great divide or fall gracefully to the closest ear, the one pressed to your chest. It can both give and take comfort; it can make you fidget with anxiety, freeze in distress, hide in embarrassment or erupt with elation. It can be the shortest distance between two ideologies, and it can be the simplest expression of joy. Sometimes, a joke is simultaneously the lightest and heaviest thought in my mind. Tonight was one of those times.</div>
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I’ve been a huge Kids in the Hall fan for years, and even though you’re supposed to say you love all your Kids equally, the truth is I loved Dave the most. As much as I enjoyed his sketch, I was able to appreciate News Radio as a very different beast. But stand up? I hadn’t seen so much as a clip and I was a little dubious. With the noted exception of Orlando Jones, who I will also be writing about this weekend (I swear!), I’ve seen only a few sketch comics be really good stand ups; I’ve also seen some good stand ups be horrible at improv and some good improvisers be only so-so at sketch. Comedy is variegated, motley, multicolored; some colors just look better on the other guy. </div>
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Oddly enough, the conversation Austin and I had on the way to the show was about being star-struck. I said I hadn’t had that feeling yet when meeting comics – I’ve been shy, uncomfortable, giddy, intrigued, aroused, bored, embarrassed, intimidated, underwhelmed, and a host of other emotions, but not yet star-struck. Oh, I know there are certain comedy heroes who would leave me dumb and unable to string together two sentences were I ever to find myself in their presence: Eddie Izzard, for one; Ricky Gervais; Woody Allen; Douglas Adams, while he was among the living; and Whoopi Goldberg, whose Broadway show became my touchstone for comedy with a conscience, comedy that could teach and reach and even possibly change a life. I know those people are out there. I expected Tom Rhodes to overwhelm me that way, but he turned out to be what I had somehow felt – like the coolest guy in the dorm who was sitting in the hallway with me at 2 am, talking about Oscar Wilde and classic rock until the sun came up and I was late for my Child Development class. We clicked so immediately that I had no time to be scared. I tell you that the conversation with <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Austin</st1:place></st1:city> was odd because, 162 minutes later, I was awkwardly, trippingly, ridiculously trying to tell Dave Foley about my blog, and flailing foolishly. I lost all sense of grammar, of actual language, and it felt like a gift. Comedy and its pushers can still catch me off-guard and leave me breathless.</div>
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Let me state right now that Josh Potter and Bryan Ball both did great work. I will post a separate review and tell you all about them. I am not trying to gloss over them, but I am writing at 3:47 in the morning because I need to share this Foley thing right now, with no detours. I will give them their due (I swear!).</div>
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Dave Foley walked into the room with a calmness in his step and a smile on his face. As he passed the booth on the way to the green room, I had my first flutter that I was heading toward awe. That gap-toothed grin that lives forever in the KitH Seasons 1 and 2 box sets on my comedy shelf was three feet from mine. No entourage, no hype or yes guys, just Dave, looking happy to be Rochester-adjacent for the weekend.</div>
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He starts his set by telling us the show we were about to see wasn’t for kids (Mommy, why did Flick say cock?) and then dives headfirst into a well-polished, well-written set that had the feel of a really great one man show. In form, it was what I expected from a comedic actor. In content, it was many things I’ve dreamt lately of hearing said in front of a fake brick wall. When a set starts with statements like “God hates gays,” the room seems to freeze while everyone inhales. What did he say? Should he have said that? Where is this going? If comedy truly is about the creation and release of shared tension among people in a temporary but real relationship, Dave Foley is a comedy master.</div>
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“It makes me feel badly for God…he’s been up there creating the Universe for some time, and he hates the gays, but he can’t seem to stop creating them, which has got to be pretty frustrating for God, up there in his workshop making souls and one out of ten keeps coming out gay.…If being gay is a choice, then I think, logically, that being straight must also be a choice. Because that’s how choosing works. There have to be two of them for it to be a choice…If you are a straight man and you feel like you’re choosing every day, then, guess what? You’re gay.”</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>The laughter starts out a little soft, a little stunted, as the room slowly figures out the path down which it’s being led. And Dave knows he’s leading us someplace many of us have been afraid to go. Like the best guide, he moves at a sustainable pace, lets us rest in familiar places and drink along the way. He starts talking about his sex life, about how antidepressants can interfere with orgasm (I can fuck like a fucking machine. I’m like Sting without any of that discipline), how women aren’t prepared for men not to come, that men can now fake orgasm thanks to AIDS. It’s familiar territory. The audience is given a chance to acclimate and the laughs grow stronger, longer. He talks about going eleven years without fucking, during his first marriage, then tells us it wasn’t entirely her fault (She had been diagnosed as being a cunt. Technically the diagnosis was borderline personality disorder, but, trust me, cunt covers it). That leads to the image of a single condom kept under a glass dome, like the rose in Beauty and the Beast, and a tale from his mid-20s when he opted not to cheat with a 19-year old Uma Thurman. </div>
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He stays in this safe zone for a bit, sharing how he was ordered to pay $17,700 a month in alimony to his ex. At an enforcement hearing, the judge ruled that his “ability to pay was not relevant to his obligation to pay, and that his debt would not be considered a material change to his circumstances.” His corpse would have to keep working or go to jail (I’m pretty sure corpses are the low hanging fruit on the prison rape tree). That’s followed by a great chunk on the disappearance of pubic hair over the past 20 years (What if it’s an indicator species? What if it’s a sign of environmental collapse.?...Why isn’t the Lorax speaking for the pubic hair?), and a local reference wrapped around men shaving their balls (maybe not here in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Rochester</st1:city></st1:place>. You can’t afford to lose the body heat, you need it for the lake effect).</div>
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Everyone has relaxed, is comfortable again. So, naturally, it’s time to get back on that mystery trail. </div>
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He tells us, haltingly and in pretend confidence, that he is smart, which is not an asset in today’s cultural climate. While casually sipping his drink, he talks about a recent discovery in the realm of physics that may finally help us answer some deep questions about the structure of space and time, about the very nature of the universe. That may not excite you, but I was turned on just hearing those words fall out of this man’s mouth. And to turn it into a joke that even non-nerds could laugh at? Sheer genius. (Hey we were just fucking around with the collider and we thought, why don’t we collide a couple of proton beams at the speed of light and see what fuckin’ happens! And we did, and it was fuckin’ awesome! And we discovered the Higgs boson. Now we know why matter has mass, but fuck it! Let’s go to a titty bar!)</div>
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I want to share the entire science chunk with you, but I remind myself I’m not writing his biography. Let me say, though, that it is brilliant and funny and I am laughing out loud with the rest of the room, while having a private experience in my brain that borders on intellectual pornography.</div>
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We press on.</div>
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Dave now says he’s afraid of Muslims, and the audience tension is ratcheted up instantly. Not all Muslims, just the one who will hear him tell a joke and decide to kill him, because that one is out there. He reminds us that, although it’s cool that we can hear offensive stuff and not kill each other, in earlier Christian days, like during the Inquisition, he might be delivering a very different set. He’d probably skip his Jesus chunk and work his “Witches be crazy” material. This is how he leads us to his atheism, to lines like “Religion is just a socially acceptable form of psychosis.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crowd is a little divided. Is this funny? You’ve had me for awhile now, but can I really laugh about Jesus? With Dave Foley leading the conversation, yes, yes you can. And you can use the big words, like transubstantiation and Eucharist. You can talk about the Mormon practice of baptism by proxy, baptizing souls after death, how they have baptized over 100,000 Jews killed in the Holocaust, including Anne Frank. And who talks about that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who continues by saying that the Jews who demanded apologies were also fucking crazy? “It’s not real. They can’t do it. They don’t have the power. This isn’t Hogwart’s…Relax, Jews. You’ve got real things to worry about!” Even the Mormons say the dead soul has the right to accept or reject the offering. </div>
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The room is laughing again, laughing at information most of us probably never knew, laughing at religion, that supposed taboo topic.</div>
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And then Dave Foley escorts us to the place I long to live, to that mystical space where words are just noises we make, where they have no central nervous systems and are neither good nor bad, that space where meaning and intention matter. He begins by saying, “I’m not a racist. And I say that just in case I’m wrong. And I know racism is back, racism is cool again.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then he mentions the n word and tells us that stands for nigger, by the way. “It isn’t algebra, it isn’t an unknown variable...if s equals social discomfort and 1 equals liberal white guilt, then n equals nigger.” And he goes on to tell the room that using a different phrase, like “the n word” or “sugar” for “shit” doesn’t release us of the burden of those words. It merely forces the people around us, who know exactly what we’re saying, to say the words themselves in their heads, “and that’s just passive-aggressive, and stop it!” </div>
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I will concede that everyone cannot appreciate this act. There are some people reading this review right now who are appalled that this man had the audacity to speak those words, make those statements. As Dave tells us, if all you hear are the words someone says, but not what they’re saying with them, you run the risk of missing the point entirely. But maybe you simply don’t agree with how the point was made. That’s cool. I remind you quite regularly that comedy is subjective, that few things in life could be so universal and so personal at the same time. For me, though, this show was one that reinforced what I’ve always known and hoped and believed about the power of humor: that it can break through barriers, lower defenses and provide an opportunity to really examine those topics that make people afraid, that make us lie to one another because it’s the socially agreed upon reaction. Humor is the grown up version of Mary Poppins’ spoonful of sugar. </div>
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Given the business of the past few months and the dearth of real cause for laughter, this night wasn’t all Dave. While not necessarily preaching to the choir, there were more than a few of us who showed up ready to shout an amen. Admittedly, maybe that’s not the best way to show appreciation to an atheist. When I tried words, however, when I approached him after the show to tell him what an amazing experience the previous hour had been for me, I failed. I could not. I was, for lack of a better cliché, star-struck. Not by the fact that I was standing in front of a tv star. Not because this man was part of my second-favorite sketch group of all comedy history. No, I was struck because I had heard some of the lightest and heaviest thoughts in Dave Foley’s brain, spoken into a wireless mic for a room full of strangers who squirmed, and tensed, and then surrendered the laugh. I had witnessed jokes being more than jokes. It caught me off-guard. It left me breathless.<br />
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Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-54380206148487969392013-01-27T17:19:00.000-05:002013-01-27T17:19:46.882-05:00Earl David Reed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have not been here for awhile.<br />
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I have not been able to go to the club, watch a show and
then come home and immediately share the experience. There have been
requirements and distractions for weeks and I have been challenged to keep my
commitment to you, to these comics, to Comedy herself. I needed a jump start, a
palate cleanser.</div>
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I needed tonight’s show.</div>
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I knew far too little about Earl David Reed, but I adore Tim
Almeter and Anna Phillips, both of whom would be taking the stage on this
Saturday night. We got to The Club a few moments after the start and squeezed
into the first booth as Tim was telling one of my favorite jokes. It’s the one
about the black friend from the group home who is afraid of deer – check the
September Ben Bailey review for the awesome punch line. The room was filled
with people who came to laugh, and they did, with and for Tim, for his whole
set. </div>
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My last few comedy encounters with Tim have all been open
mics, so it was a blast to be reminded how polished he is, how easily he takes
that stage and transforms from young friend to professional comedian. Later
tonight, Tim will insist that he’s giving it up, that he can’t do it if he
can’t start making money. The truth of that situation is that he hasn’t positioned
himself to, yet. While I remain convinced that Tim is the real deal, and will
do well once he dives in, he struggles with his pro and con list, and I respect
his struggle. </div>
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Tim brings Anna Phillips to the stage with the introduction,
“This is one of the funniest people I know,” and he is not just spouting host
hyperbole. We both love this woman, for her quick, dry wit and her unassuming
nature, her ability to move an audience and her genuineness. Tonight’s audience
seems to agree with us; they are roaring for Anna. I marvel in her
vulnerability as she talks about going home for family gatherings and hearing
their reactions to her weight gain; I dig her serial killer routine (Any serial
killer who wanted to cut me up would need to make a lot of trips to the car.
Dexter would need a two-part episode…You all deserve to die, and when I get
that gastric bypass…for now, the only cereal I’m killin’ are these
Honeycombs.); I laugh out loud every time I hear her “balls to the face” bit.
Anna, like Tim, tried to convince me she was taking a break a short while ago;
and Anna, like Tim, should not walk away from comedy ever. </div>
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Tonight is just what I needed. Tim and Anna have me and this
room full of strangers laughing loudly, ready to openly engage with the man
formerly known in these parts as Brother Earl. And five minutes into the show,
I realize how much he scares me and how glad I am to be in the back of the
room.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Earl David Reed is an exciting comic, a
lightning-in-a-bottle comic. He takes crowd work to a place most can never hope
to go, and the room rushes along with him like second graders in a Field Day
race. Starting with simple questions we’re all capable of answering – What’s
your name? Where are you from? What do you do? – Earl builds his 50 minutes
around the audience, and they love it. Tom loves being hung like a Tic Tac; his
wife giggles knowingly when Earl says she has fresh breath. The guy who says
he’s from Webster (oh, so you’re from here? Obviously. Obviously? You’re not
from this room….) postures for just a second, then surrenders immediately. Travis’
future wife is thrilled to let him be the punch line (When you get a name like
Travis, they gotta’ give you a truck.). Matt, the engineer, is almost bursting
when Earl tells him he looks tired “from working on the railroad all the
live-long day.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A second later, he’s
saying exactly what’s in my head: your wife named Dinah? Someone in the kitchen
with her? I won’t say “will she blow?” The audience was howling from start to
finish. I have seen very few rooms this engaged, this joyful to be part of the
show.</div>
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Once I realized that what I was watching was not just the
way Earl warms up a crowd, but his act itself, I had to switch processing
gears. And it was a simple shift, because I recognized what was unfolding
onstage. If you take a look back to July, you’ll find my first-ever review of
Mike Dambra, a friend and comic whose photo makes me smile and whose act left
me dazzled by its brilliance. I said this: “H<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">is written jokes…are delivered in
and around audience play, which makes them appear more improvised than they
really are. It’s what Robin Williams said he was doing in his stand up days: he
wrote a lot of material that flowed so well with the stuff he was making up on
the spot, the audience thought it was all improv. That style is a lot of work,
no matter how easy Mike makes it seem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">And here was Earl David Reed, with that similar gift,
wrapping his jokes around the shoulders of whoever showed up tonight ready to
play. I was at once impressed by his skill, and scared that he might eventually
work his way to the back of the room. It’s a weird thing with me and, like most
PTSD issues, one that I can trace back to a specific incident or two, but I
absolutely hate to be engaged by a comic during his/her show. I watch
differently than the average audience member. I’m listening to the jokes, but
I’m also analyzing the audience response, the body language, the use of
silence, the energy in the room, the wordplay, whether or not I’m laughing out
loud. I once unintentionally derailed a friend’s bit because I couldn’t name a
woman when she called on me. I was so busy admiring her body awareness that I
couldn’t shift in real time, and the only thing I could utter was “Jesus
Christ!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">I shared that with Earl between shows, that I enjoyed and
admired his skill but was so grateful not to have been a part of it. He pointed
out to me that he wasn’t asking for real engagement or deep thought; he was
asking simple questions that anyone could answer, and then just riffing on
whatever he’s given. He’s not making fun of his audience, he’s playing
alongside them, sharing his toys. I see that, but it doesn’t alleviate my
anxiety, and I’m grateful I was on the back wall. But I’m equally grateful I
got to see Earl in action. He is truly talented, and a joy to watch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">I realize that I related to Earl on two other important
levels. The first is his joke joke material: </span>Time out was what my mother
used to take when she needed a rest from beatin’ the shit out of us. Remarrying
someone you previously divorced is like drinking sour milk, then putting it
back in the refrigerator for the next day. These Civil War re-enactors asked if
I wanted to hang out with them. I know my history, too. I told ‘em to call me
when they get to the Motown years. </div>
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The second is the fact that he now lives about 20 minutes
from my childhood, and for the first time in years, someone recognized the name
of my hometown and didn’t smirk, giggle or roll their eyes. Anyone who knows
Dillsburg and doesn’t immediately start in with the pickle jokes is a potential
friend for life. I will make it a point to learn more about Earl David Reed,
and so should you. You can follow him on twitter at @earldavidreed, check out
his website, <a href="http://www.imearldavidreed.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.imearldavidreed.com</span></a>,
and pick up a dvd or a tshirt. Earl gives at least half of the proceeds to
breast cancer awareness projects, so you can help others while helping yourself
to some serious funny.</div>
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Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-42143599213013087232013-01-25T16:19:00.000-05:002013-01-25T16:19:14.679-05:00Woody, Woody and Me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I fell in love with Woody Allen as a young girl, trying to
survive the desolate <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Pennsylvania</st1:state></st1:place>
winters by reading things no one else in my peer group found interesting. Lying
next to the heat vents after being dragged out of giant snow drifts by my very
tall father, I wanted nothing more than to be warm, dry and somewhere else.
Being nine, there was no option for my escape that didn’t involve words on a
page; fortunately, that has and will always be my favorite form of travel, anyway.
So I found this book called “Without Feathers” and felt super smart because I
knew it was a reference to Emily Dickinson. I started reading these strangely
funny short pieces, realizing quickly that I wasn’t understanding half the
pages I was turning, but still laughing out loud every now and again.<br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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It was “The Whore of Mensa” that won my heart. Yes, at that
age, I was aware of MENSA, having spent hours in my aunt’s beauty shop
rummaging through back issues of Reader’s Digest so I could take every condensed
IQ and MENSA sampler quiz they published. I was kind of aware of whores, but
less as a career concept and more as something boys called girls who liked
fooling around. The idea of a woman’s mental companionship being valued equally
as her tits and ass just rocked my little girl world. I think I really
believed, premenstruation, that I might one day meet guys who would fall in
love with me because I was smart and extremely well-read. Sigh! </div>
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This single book was my introduction to Woody Allen, and I
enjoyed his writing without ever looking deeper. It wasn’t until college that
my dear friend Jonathan Manitsky introduced me to Woody as a stand up comic and
as a movie auteur. Jon’s greatest gift was his ability to retell, in the most
charming Brooklyn accent I’d ever heard, the story of the moose (<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">And there's
a law in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">New York</st1:state></st1:place>
state against driving with a conscious moose on your fender Tuesdays,
Thursdays, and Saturdays.) It was laugh-out-loud funny to me, and never failed
to pick me up when college was beating me down. But just listening second-hand
wasn’t enough for Jonathan. He needed me to really know Woody, and wanted to be
the one to finally introduce us. So I saw Love and Death, Sleeper, Bananas,
Take the Money and Run, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Manhattan</st1:place></st1:city>,
Annie Hall, Zelig and more. I became a fan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">Tuesday night, I found myself loaning my prized box set,
Getting Even/Without Feathers/Side Effects, to another Woody. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">Woody Battaglia hasn’t been doing stand up for very long.
As a matter of fact, I think I may have witnessed his 64<sup>th</sup>
performance this week at Acanthus open mic. Woody’s jokes are often about
unusual things: like the way the Cold War might have been an entirely different
event if Stalin hadn’t had to do his own laundry; tales of Citizen Kat, spelled
with a K because Orsen Welles didn’t care about the soft C; bending his sex
partner over the Scrabble board, so her rack bounces against the tile rack. I
love these jokes: the Scrabble one, because the version of the game I invented
in high school involved double-entendre answers that served as geek girl
foreplay; the Orsen Welles references resonate because I, too, grew up with
those horrible Paul Mason commercials (we will sell no wine before its time);
and, finally, the Stalin starch adventure, because it reminds me of Woody
Allen’s “The Metterling Lists”, the first piece in Getting Even. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">Woody B is well-loved here in the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Rochester</st1:place></st1:city> comedy scene. He has encouragement
for everyone who takes the mic, he’s fearless in his own right. His laugh makes
every joke sound like a winner. While I am not certain stand-up is the right
vehicle for his humor, I remain convinced he’s one funny, funny man. And so,
Tuesday night, I placed my treasured books on a table in front of him and
encouraged him to read. I’m hoping he is inspired and turns the Stalin bit into
an essay. Maybe fleshes out the Orson Welles reference into something longer,
quirkier, about Citizen Kat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">In the meantime, you and I are lucky! Woody and his
friends have completed the first episode of “The LETTERHEADS”, a mocku-podcast
from a creative writing group who strive to spread wisdom about the writing
process to their listeners. You can download episode one free on iTunes, and
look for future episodes every fourth Thursday. If, like me, you have any love
for radio shows – I can’t imagine my life without the 12 original episodes of
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy– you will appreciate this little gem.
Download it. Give it a listen. You’ll hear Woody as Manny and you will probably
note, as I do, the warmth and laughter in his voice that can’t be hidden, even
when playing the awkward, not-so-effective leader of this little band. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;"></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">So Tuesday night was a great moment for me. I was able to
share an old love – Woody A – with a new friend – Woody B – and now, it’s just
a matter of time. </span><br />
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-64969607600163859172013-01-22T10:52:00.000-05:002013-01-22T10:52:21.885-05:00Back in the Groove<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The holidays were overwhelming, full of work and family obligations at a level I haven't experienced for a number of years. The extra contract came with a big December event. The holidays required multiple visits to in-laws and an extra "yes" or two that I didn't really want to give. Still, it was mine to manage, and I did so poorly. I caught whooping cough, which laid me up for a bit, and I had a tidal wave of emotional scenarios to ride out. All in all, I'm happy to say I was even able to watch live comedy through the past two months.<br />
<br />
Now I have pages and pages of notes, and no blogs to show for them.<br />
<br />
There were some really great shows that I will be sharing with you: Rachel Feinstein, Orlando Jones, Brian Posehn and Bob DiBuono were here. Locally, there are new open mics and scripted productions and, coming all too soon, a farewell show that will leave me sadly optimistic for one of my closest comedy friends. So much I need to write about, and yet I can't seem to get back into the swing of it.<br />
<br />
So, here's the deal. I'm just going to start tonight and write one review per day until I get caught up, until these scribbled pages, napkins and index cards lead to something I can share with you here at the giggle. <br />
<br />
I will always, always tell you to go to The Comedy Club and watch live comedy. Yes, I know I can sit on my couch and watch the tv, my dvds, YouTube feeds, my laptop, and I can hear jokes that way. But a live comedy experience is about more than just the jokes. There is an exchange between audience and performer, there is a contract that is upheld or annihilated. There is a unique entity that exists for a very brief moment in any live show, and your presence makes you part of it. <br />
<br />
I am approaching the one-year anniversary of this blog, and some of the comics are beginning to come through The Club again. If you didn't catch them before, but found something in a review intriguing, come see them this time. If the show is different, if something catches me unaware, I'll write another review. Rich Vos was certainly a different experience the second time. Pat Dixon's show was made otherly by a change in venue that brought out a different crowd. Those are things I think about, and will share with you if they seem worth your time.<br />
<br />
It's no small feat to keep a club of any kind open for 5 years, given the current finances of the average American. Mark Ippolito puts his heart and soul into The Comedy Club and I am grateful, so very grateful, that he does, because it is the place where I laugh most publicly and most consistently. It is the place where I meet the Paul Hoopers and the Carl Laboves of the world. It's the place where I see Keith Alberstadt on the same night he's appearing on Letterman. It's the place I watched a room full of people burst into both laughter and tears together while watching my friend Tiny one final time. So go to <a href="http://www.thecomedyclub.us/">www.thecomedyclub.us</a> and check out the upcoming schedule. Me? I'm looking forward to Dave Foley and Esther Ku, neither of whom I've seen live. There are two seasons of Kids in the Hall on my dvd shelf, and we all know how I feel about funny females. In addition, the returning favorites list is enough to make my head spin. Godfrey! Theo Von! And Brian Dunkleman! Throw in a road trip to see Paul Hooper and the phrase "March Madness" finally has some meaning for me. <br />
<br />
And then One Girl's Giggle is going to expand.<br />
<br />
While The Comedy Club will always hold my heart, I believe the only way we're going to sustain a real, thriving comedy scene in Rochester is if we educate and grow an audience. The media-soaked masses we have become are great for some forms of entertainment, and deathly for others. So, here in my own little corner, I'm going to offer more. There will be more reviews of local up and comers, more open mics and specialty projects. I'm going to tell you about Woody's podcast and Mikey's Goo Yard, share more on Jimmy's After Bedtime show and Pam's Comedy with Curves. I'm going to tell you about a documentary that I am supporting and a cd release party in February for another of my comic friends. I will review some projects you may not have heard about by pulling a dvd, book or cd off my personal shelves. Finally, I may toss a few of my own essays in here. It seems only fair to give others a chance to review my sense of humor, too. And, as always, I welcome reader comments and guest reviewers.<br />
<br />
So, while it's been a tough couple of months, there's much to look forward to. There's more to write, more to praise, more to support.<br />
<br />
More reasons to laugh, to groan, to snort, chuckle or guffaw.<br />
<br />
But, mostly, more reasons to giggle.<br />
<br />
See you tomorrow.</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-32556413669319442252012-12-16T14:28:00.000-05:002012-12-22T12:43:08.596-05:00Comedy With Curves: Witty Women, All<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When my friend Pam Werts was asked to produce a show with female comics, she didn't think twice about it. She knew, as do I, that there are plenty of funny ladies in Western New York and an all-female line up would bring a needed dose of estrogen to The Comedy Club. It never crossed her mind that the night wouldn't be laugh-filled and successful.<br />
<br />
Sure enough, the first Comedy with Curves was both those things. Successful, because 83 paying fans showed up on a Sunday night - yes, even I gave up some precious NFL hours - to hear Dewey Lovett, Anna Hall, Maryanne Donnelly, Anna Phillips and Pam talk about decoy sluts, go-to lesbians, suicide lines, balls to the face and mom's moist box. Laugh-filled, because they talked about decoy sluts, go-to lesbians, suicide lines, balls to the face and mom's moist box. <br />
<br />
Every one of these women is funny, and each of them has a style/persona all her own. Pam rocks as a host because she has a take-no-prisoners delivery and pop culture reference points that span 30+ years. From Bon Jovi to Adele, human insurance agents to Geico geckos, Pam can paint a broad stroke of ha ha across a room. Dewey is so unexpected, her tiny frame and squeaky mouse voice are a sharp contrast to her sarcasm and innuendo. MaryAnne's stylized Sad Sack is a well-crafted and honestly maintained vehicle through which to deliver her smart word play. Anna H is quirky and upbeat, with a bit of a Caroline Rhea vibe, while Anna P provides some of the most hilarious lines of the night with a "funniest girl in the break room" casualness. These women rocked the stage, and made the Comedy With Curves show an instant hit.<br />
<br />
Next week, on Sunday December 23rd, Comedy With Curves will present its second show. There have been grumblings around the town. "It can't grow without real sponsors." "There just aren't that many funny women in upstate New York." "It can't work without a known headliner." What do my kids say? "Haters gotta' hate." Success breeds many responses; always, among the well-wishers, will be some people who, for whatever reason, don't want to acknowledge the good. That's ok. I believe in Pam. I believe in funny women everywhere and I believe in these funny women, all of whom I am blessed to call friends.<br />
<br />
So, here's what One Girl's Giggle is gonna' do. This blog is now an official sponsor of Comedy With Curves. This blog will put up money to pay the comics, who did the first show for the love of their art and a beautiful bouquet of flowers from Pam. And I will offer to pay the $5 admission fee for the first 10 people who contact me here on Blogspot or on my Facebook page. I will call out to Dario, Mike, Kevin, Bryan, Jimmy, Woody, Austin, Nate, Tim, Vince, Mikey, Law and any other local guys in my comedy click and say, hey, come support this show. On my dime or yours. Be here for Dewey, for Anna, for the girls who have always laughed at you and made you feel supported, loved. I will ask Natalee to be my guest and sit with me in the booth, laughing away some free time before the big holiday push. I will ask you to bring family members, friends in town for festivities, even strangers who look like they could use a giggle in this season of giving.<br />
<br />
There will be both new and familiar faces on this line-up. That's simply a matter of holiday timing, NOT because there aren't a plethora of funny women in the area. Once the new year rolls around, there will be larger sponsors, and shows will be spaced out a bit. This is not a whim, an anomoly. I can't wait to see Rich Vos's movie, "Women Aren't Funny," but I know his talented comedian wife, Bonnie McFarlane, reinforces for him every day why that title itself is just another punch line.<br />
<br />
Women may use, process and deliver humor differently than men. There is plenty of research, scientific and informal, to explain why. You guys are peacocks and making us laugh is another way of winning our favor. We have tits and ass. Your funny bone is the last thing you care to have us arouse. And that's fine. We, the fans of comedy, are all here for the same reason: to laugh. I'm behind anyone who can give me that release, whether you pee sitting, standing up or spinning distractedly in a circle while evaluating the tilework.<br />
<br />
Come join me at The Comedy Club on Sunday, the 23rd, at 7:30 pm, for Comedy With Curves. You won't be disappointed. At the very least, you can watch the giggle jiggles as a room full of breasts heave with laughter. Most likely, you won't be able to stop yourself from joining in.</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-50656929122931849482012-12-01T13:37:00.000-05:002012-12-01T13:37:17.989-05:00Tom Simmons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Oscar Fingal
O'Flahertie Wills Wilde has long been one of my favorite Victorian-era writers
and Brit wits. For years, I’ve enjoyed his plays, appreciated his poetry, and
truly adored his social critique. As I sat down to write a review of Tom
Simmons, it was the following quote from Wilde that jumped into my head. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">“If you’re going to
tell people the truth, you better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Tom Simmons tells a
lot of truth during his time onstage. Since that truth is not all easy to
digest, it is rather fortuitous that Tom is one of the funniest comedians I
know. I am simply in awe of his ability to weave seamlessly between the
political and the personal in a way that doesn’t give the audience time to cool
off or pull back. The level of skill needed to recognize the point of
disconnect as it is happening and ease into something warm and fuzzy is a
testament to his nearly twenty years onstage. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">The set opened with Tom
sharing that he worries a lot about the world: the fact that no one reads
anymore, that people are shooting their coworkers or shooting their families
and then shooting themselves (why can’t they start by shooting themselves?
There should be some kind of suicide assistance hotline, 1-800-go ahead).
People tell him not to worry about the things he can’t control. (Who worries
about things you can control?) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">The bits fly by quickly
as this master teacher stealthily slips knowledge into unsuspecting minds, much
the way my mother used to serve my brother “spice cake” and smile to herself
while throwing away the zucchini peels. There’s so much essential truth packed
into a Tom Simmons show that I feel a little disappointed to know I can’t
possibly catch it all with one viewing. Thank God there are five shows this
weekend, a cd for sale and a bonus set available on iTunes. I need time with
this guy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">While you’re still
here with me, though, let me share just a small sampling of what Tom Simmons
brings to the game. Here’s a full day’s lesson on money, a sore subject in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region> these
days. Pardon my paraphrasing:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">My son came with me to do radio one day. I asked him why he wanted to go;
he said famous people go do radio. I said no, famous people call in. He said if
you are famous, then you get rich and everybody is happy. It kinda broke my
heart. I said to him, no son, money is not what makes people happy in this
world. He looked at me as if to say, are you NEW here?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">See what he did
there? He made a human connection with this cute story about his son, and then
reeled us in to drop some knowledge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Money is just made up, it’s an illusion. There are rich people out there
who have money, but they don’t own it. It’s owned by the Federal Reserve Bank.
It’s deceptively named to sound like it’s part of the government, but actually
it’s a for-profit private company that owns our money. They make it up out of
nothing and then sell it to us at interest. Even Sam Walmart is like, what a
great business model you have there…. And the people on our money were against
the Federal Reserve; Lincoln, Jefferson, Franklin, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jackson</st1:place></st1:city>, they all thought it was a bad idea,
and then we put their faces on the money. That’s like putting Mother Teresa’s
face on condoms and then passing them out at Planned Parenthood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Three minutes into a
bit and we’ve had a father/son fuzzy moment, a history and an economics lesson.
Now for some sociology.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Money is our God, it’s what we worship, what we work 40 or 50 hours a week
for, what we think will make us happy. We have altars built all over the
country in the form of banks that we bail out. Then, we stand in front of the
ATMs and pray there’s $100 in there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Need some pop
culture? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Gold will hold its value. I used to think rappers were idiots for what they
did to their mouths. Turns out those guys are monster investors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">And how about some
theology?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Jesus. Jesus was a pretty chill dude. The only time he used violence in his
entire ministry was on the money changers in the temple. Know how evil you have
to be to piss off Jesus? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">To show you just how
smart this guy is, he even uses the money theme to make some dick jokes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">We give it different names, right? It’s the dollar here, it’s the looney in
<st1:country-region w:st="on">Canada</st1:country-region>, it’s the euro in <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place>. The weirdest name by far that I’ve found is in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region> where
they call their dollar the dong. Like, sorry, baby, I’m a little short on dong
tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">It’s true that I love
rant comedy. I love a committed performer sharing a wealth of information using
an intelligent vocabulary executed with exquisite comedic timing. I’ve seen it
done well, I’ve seen it done poorly. The difference, for me, is usually one of
precision. It’s easy to be too heavily weighted on one of those elements and
throw the experience out of whack. I started out being a Dennis Miller fan,
loving the word choices and semi-obscure references that seemed to always serve
the joke. Somewhere, though, it changed, it began to spin away from sharing
thought and lean toward spitting invective. What once felt like collective
snark, a mutual laughing at the world, has since morphed into a constant
scolding by someone who just seems content to get off on feeling superior. Tom
sometimes feels like gentle rant, moving the physical aggression into something
more searching, with momentary floor gazing and the occasional shrugging of
shoulders. I have seen very few live performers cover so many potentially
controversial topics with so many punch lines.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">His Bully the Bullies
podcast takes a stand against militant religious types who use the pulpit to
bully congregants, who then go out and bully others with their supposed moral
supremacy. Please check it out on iTunes and make a contribution, if you can.
So many people out there don’t have the words so easily at their disposal,
can’t always articulate on their own behalf, and so are victimized by the gift
of gab. One more reason I admire this guy is that he puts his gift to use for
the underdog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Tom Simmons is a bit
of a revelation: his material can be racial, without being racist, religious
without being proselytizing or denigrating. He finds the balance, being
simultaneously challenging and supportive in what he wants to say. I get the
feeling he cares about what you take away from his shows. It’s great that you
laugh, it’s even better that you think. It’s not always easy for a comic to
accept that he will sometimes have to forfeit a guffaw while some new piece of
information is absorbed. And when you speak as rapidly as Tom does, you lose a
few chuckles along the way because the listener’s brain has to let one line go
to catch the next. There are so many great lines in this show, in fact, that
I’ve taken weeks to write this review. I simply could not decide how to move
forward, what to share and what to set aside. I want you to leave this page
with the absolute understanding that this is one amazingly talented comic who
pushes all my personal humor buttons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">So, here are a few
more of my favorites, arranged more haphazardly, but no less loved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">“I was working in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Tacoma</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Washington</st1:state></st1:place>,
and on my way to the club every night, I saw this big red neon sign says ‘Jesus
cares about you.’ Which is fine, but when I left the South, Jesus fuckin’ loved
me. I don’t know why we have all the drop-off all of a sudden. In his defense,
I have been seeing other people lately, like Buddha and science.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">“To the rest of the
world we are like a really boring hot chick that won’t quit talking about
herself…. We’re number one. Wow, really? Check your stats.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">“I try to be nice, I
try to love everyone, but…have you met everyone?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">“Jesus did some
interesting things. He turned water into wine and they said he was God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Uncle Stan did that in the shed and they
gave him 7 to 10. There are no ‘What would Stan do?’ bracelets.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">“I see your Bible and
raise you a Declaration of Independence and a Constitution.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">For me, this was one
wonderful comedy weekend. Just as straight-forward and thought-provoking
off-stage, I enjoyed real-people conversation with Tom. I know I’m looking at
20 years of master crafting, something that can have the feel of exposure
without ever baring so much as an ankle. Still, he’s the kind of person for
whom I would join a bowling league – although I’d rather it be a writer’s group
– just to hang out every week and hear what’s on his mind. Without that option,
I must be content listening to his most recent CD, Keep Up (available at Amazon
and iTunes), checking out his Bully the Bullies Podcast (also available for
free on iTunes) and waiting patiently for his return to upstate <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state>. You should
check out all the above mentioned opportunities, and go to <a href="http://www.tomsimmonscomedy.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.tomsimmonscomedy.com</span></a> for access
to videos, his blog and upcoming tour info.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.5pt;">Next weekend, Tom
will be performing with another of my close comedy friends, Kris Shaw. I am
excitedly anticipating just how these two smart, unique men will perceive one
another. <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Tacoma</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Washington</st1:state></st1:place>, I’m counting on you to treat
them both with love and laughter. You’re in for a few nights of truth you’ll
never want to forget.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-47878261231048428452012-11-20T02:43:00.001-05:002012-11-20T02:44:09.846-05:00Blocked<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You never expect it to happen when you choose something you love. You think the inspiration will always be there, by sheer virture of your passion, your desire. You count on keeping your promise, on the vows being unbreakable.<br />
<br />
And then reality and the day-to-day grind overwhelm you. The fantasy, the fire, gets lost as bills need paid, floors need swept, and the sound of your laugh grows faint.<br />
<br />
I have so much to say, so much to do, and yet everything else seems to NEED to come first. I am stuck midway through Tom Simmons, desperate to get on to Rachel Feinstein and excitedly looking forward to Orlando Jones. I owe Guy Torry delivery on a proposition. I really do have something to say about Doug Stanhope. And locally, Dubland deserves a celebratory eulogy as it ends tonight, and Buffalo is still waiting for its accolades.<br />
<br />
So here's my renewed promise. <br />
<br />
I will do whatever I need to in order to catch up by the end of the week. That means I may have to condense the Buffalo shows into one piece. That means I'll pass on Eddie Griffin, who doesn't need my opinion to promote himself or his act. That means I didn't go to The Comedy Club this week to catch Gemini's show because, while I find magic everywhere and adore it, I'm not quite as enamored of illusion. That means I am still committed, but maybe I understand the journey a little better and can accept that it isn't what it once was.<br />
<br />
And, hopefully, it will mean that we can get back to what we were doing here together in the first place.<br />
<br />
Laughing, and loving every minute of it. </div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-54815528636182357652012-11-03T09:59:00.000-04:002012-11-04T12:48:03.711-05:0010/11/12 Rich Vos, Jimmy LeChase, Tim Almeter and Dario Josef<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
T S Eliot once wrote, “Anxiety is the handmaiden of
creativity.” If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was channeling an evening,
far in the future, when Rich Vos was nervously pacing the back of a dark room,
awaiting show time. Like a metal spring coiled to its limit and about to
unwind, he was both ready to start releasing and nervous about the process.
Nine months earlier, when Vos last came to The Comedy Club, his angst read more
like anger to me; I felt a very different kind of energy when I met him briefly
before that show. His crowd work seemed a little pushy, a little punishing. I
wasn’t sure, once the set was over, whether or not I had enjoyed it.<br />
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This time, however, was an altogether different experience. </div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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But let’s not start there. Let me give credit to Dario by
saying he was an excellent MC, and the perfect guide on the side for this
particular show; he primed the audience for Jimmy LeChase. The first/last time
I told you about Jimmy, he was working his joke-joke material, funny but more
standard-format riffs on weddings. Tonight was a very different show,
albeit one I thoroughly enjoyed. Jimmy took us on a stroll through the city,
introducing us to the denizens of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Crazy</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Town</st1:placetype></st1:place> in a casually-paced
storyteller style. From the homeless guy who rebuked our agreed-upon social
contract by begging up (You don’t have 43 cents? How about a dollar?) to the
delightful assortment of humanity hanging out at the sketchy local gas station
at 11:13 at night, when his PB & J jones got the better of him, it was an
interesting tour. We met the mumbly guy in the corner complaining about the
price of beer, the old woman in her pjs just holding a loaf of bread as the
Alzheimer glaze spread across her face, the dude repeatedly scratching the same
non-winning lottery tickets and being disappointed that none of them had
magically turned into winners and, my personal favorite, the neglected girl
with the handful of candy (that’s diabetes just waiting to happen!). </div>
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For his peers who tend to operate in a more traditional
set-up/punch style, Jimmy can be hard to evaluate. They were listening for
those laughter bursts that kinda’ follow one another like firework booms on the
Fourth, and Jimmy received a few of them. Mostly, and maybe more appropriate to
his style, the audience gave him a quieter but constant chuckle, a steady
stream of laughs that showed they, too, knew that late-night stroll.</div>
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Tim Almeter's promise to self-immolate at the end of his set
was newly spawned. He hadn’t planned a flaming finale. He asked Vos if there
was anything he did or didn’t want him to do during the spot. Rich replied, “I
don’t give a fuck if you set yourself on fire.” Tim shared the retort with the
audience and promised, “So I’m gonna’ close with that.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, no alarms were sounded. Tim delivered a
great set, and even gave Vos something to play with in return.</div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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“I had cancer. Waaah! I’m following a cancer comic; I feel
like I’m doing a fuckin’ fundraiser. Hey, I had a hernia 3 years ago, you don’t
hear me bitchin’.”</div>
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I think if that exchange had happened last time I saw Vos, I
might not have seen the wink behind it, I might have been tempted to interpret
it as a bitch-slap to the young pup for taking a shot. But that’s not what was
happening at all. Besides, 26 years sober can carry the same skewed weight as
being a cancer comic. It can be lobbed casually into a crowd and played for
sympathy. Or, in the hands of someone as skilled as Rich Vos, it can be mined
for hard truths and used to produce instant laughter.</div>
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The topics bounce between casual commonalities and culture
clashes: the costs of driving on the <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New
Jersey</st1:place></st1:state> turnpike (I went four exits, spent $8. You
drive the whole length of the turnpike, at the end they take your car); the
pointlessness of the Occupy movement (They have no demands. They weren’t
protesting, they were camping.); the difficulties of gay interracial dating
(Dad, I’m gay. Now sit down.); the void of service on planes (They took away
pretzels? I didn’t care when they took the blankets – there was more DNA on
them than under Gacey’s porch.); the bond between racism and anti-Semitism in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region> (We
should combine forces. With our brains and money, and your strength and speed,
no one could fuck with us.).</div>
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Vos is sharp, his random and extensive callbacks are
phenomenal and his quickie lines are a thing of beauty. “’Know what I forgot to
did?’ ‘Conjugate a verb? Pay for what’s in your hand? Stop having kids?’” “You
look like a Roman nickel. You should be guarding a wall on Game of Thrones.”
“Smoking three cigarettes a day is pointless. It’s like going to rape a girl,
tearing off her clothes and then fingering her. You’re going to jail, you may as
well fuck her.” “You look like an epileptic Marine cut your hair.” “’Do you
have turkey burgers?’ ‘We used to.’ ‘Let me sit down, we’ll reminisce about the
good ol’ days.’” If you had no understanding of tone or affect, if you couldn’t
read body language, you could probably get really pissed off by Rich Vos.</div>
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And that’s the saving grace, that’s the best part. Between
chewing madly on his Nicorette gum and that pre-show pacing, you can tell
Rich’s creativity is fueled by anxiety, not anger; he generally wants to make
you laugh, not piss you off. Every now and again, he’ll turn away or drop his
head and laugh at himself, at the ridiculousness that just spilled from his lips,
and the audience exhales with him, confident once more that he is, indeed,
there for the joke. His material about his divorce, remarriage and three
daughters is that balanced blend of pathos and punch line. His conversation with
his 4-year old (It’s a house? No, it isn’t. It’s just scribble. That’s what you
do, you’re a scribbler. Well, answer me this. Would you live in it?) is that
thing that looks like reality, but is actually trompe l’oiel: deceiving to the
eye or, in this case, the ear. </div>
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After the show Thursday night, Mark introduced me to Rich
and asked if he’d chat with me a little, told him about the blog. Graciously,
and at the expense of some downtime spent savoring one of those turkey burgers,
he agreed. He started, though, with a question I’ve heard a number of times
over the past year. “No offense, but what makes a person qualified to be a
comedy critic?” He seemed genuinely curious, and I wasn’t offended at all. I
told him of my passion for the art, my lifelong love affair with comedy; I
mentioned that I’ve logged plenty of hours on stages over the years while
acting, educating, motivating; I told him he could read the first entry in this
blog if he was really interested; and I reassured him that I don’t think of this
as critique. Reviewing what I see and sharing how I perceive it, I am trying to
support the craft, educate an audience and do my small part to keep live comedy
thriving. It was an acceptable answer. He was cool hearing my passion, and
spent some time talking about the scene, about his upcoming projects (I can’t
wait to see “Women Aren’t Funny”, a documentary he’s produced with wife Bonnie
McFarlane), about the fact that he still gets so nervous before a show. He gave
me a copy of “Still Empty Inside,” his third CD which you should pick up on
iTunes – you will not be disappointed. And for some of my friends at earlier
stages in your comedy career, take a look at his website (<a href="http://www.richvos.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.richvos.com</span></a>). This man has it together
on so many levels. <br />
<br />
His anxiety isn't just his handmaiden; it's his bitch.</div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-52154441127876360222012-10-25T13:21:00.000-04:002012-11-03T13:22:51.652-04:00Breather<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Wow, I'm behind.<br />
<br />
Rich Vos. Doug Stanhope. Eddie Griffin. Dubland. Rob's Playhouse with Dave Dyer. O'Comedy at O'Connells'.<br />
<br />
I have been seeing an incredible amount of comedy in the past few months. There was a stretch there where I was at a live comedy show 17 nights out of 24, two of which involved two different venues and multiple comics. In my real life, my after school program kicked in, my spouse is home but we are separated, my side contracts are moving at hyperspeed and I am going so fast so often, that I have just not been writing anything that wasn't mandated or attached to a paycheck. <br />
<br />
I am tired, people. <br />
<br />
Exhausted.<br />
<br />
And yet, there's much to say about all of the acts mentioned above, and those who keep stepping onstage at The Comedy Club, Rob's, DubLand, The Space and other venues in this little corner of the world. I personally committed to telling you about them, trying to win you over, trying to get you to go spend your limited free time and money supporting something that literally can improve your physical and mental health. Laughter is an amazing tonic, a miracle elixir that soothes souls, warms hearts and builds bonds between people. Even if the jokes are dark, angry, or merely stupid, laughter is an essential ingredient in my happiness gumbo. I use it instead of okra - it's a texture thing.<br />
<br />
Still, despite all the great comedy I've been seeing, I am tired.<br />
<br />
I haven't been able to devote the time and care to this site that I mean to, that I want to, that I remain fully committed to.<br />
<br />
So, I've taken a breather. It's almost over - I can see light ahead. <br />
<br />
Tonight, I'll be seeing Tom Simmons at the club, and then, when I get home, I promise I'll sit down and write. I've started Rich Vos - I just want to do him justice, because the experience this time was so different than when he came to town at the beginning of the year. I'm excited to tell you about him. I'm excited to tell you that Doug Stanhope was so not what I expected that I am actually nervous about writing the review. I want you all to know that Rob's Playhouse is a good room for comedy and worth the trek to Buffalo. You need to know about O'Connell's, too, and not just because it's a great venue for an open mic. The food is awesome and the atmosphere is quite lovely. As a product of a dry house and a dry town, I think Dub Land could become the first bar I've ever enjoyed hanging at. And wait 'til I tell you how good Zack Johnson was mcing for Eddie Griffin, and how interesting it was to sit through Eddie back-to-back, as the champagne flowed and the room got rowdier.<br />
<br />
I haven't been slacking on comedy. I've just not been sharing much. I've been spending more time in my real life and catching a few more hours' sleep, when I meant to be paying tribute to the jokes and jokesters that make it all a little easier to handle.<br />
<br />
But, after tonight's show, I'll get back on track. I promise. <br />
<br />
Hopefully, you will all still be here, reading and maybe even getting a little joy for yourself from my insights. If not, I hope you're out supporting live comedy in your community. <br />
<br />
Talk to you in a bit.</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-82264318601382173822012-10-13T14:52:00.000-04:002012-10-15T12:45:21.535-04:0010/4/12 Marc Unger, Austin Lafond, Mike Gifaldi and Josh Potter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">One of the greatest philosophers of my childhood, Charles M. Schultz, was able to use my favorite round-headed kid and his beagle to help me digest some very important concepts. I understood that unrequited love could ruin the taste of a good pb & j sandwich, that it was cool to have a rich fantasy life, that everyone had something to feel insecure about and that hope could always rise again, even in the most depressed of spirits. Charlie Brown was one depressed little guy. “Sometimes I lie awake at night, and ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night.'" </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">No matter how many nickels he put in Lucy’s tin can, there seemed to be no cure for what ailed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">Depression, like ADD and OCD, seems to be fairly common among stand up comics, although it’s still a chicken/egg question: Do depressed people use laughter to try to heal themselves, thus leaning toward comedy, or does the life of a road dog comic, with its hours of loneliness, constant travel, tight finances and interrupted intimacy, lead to depression? I have yet to hear a definitive answer. And on this Thursday night, it didn’t seem to matter. The whole room felt depressed. The audience was quietly eating, politely focused but not seemingly eager to laugh when Josh Potter took the stage to start the show. Austin Lafond delivered his set, but couldn’t get more than a chuckle or two from the group.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">Mike Gifaldi had a bit more success. As one of my favorite local comics, I watch him nearly every week at DubLand, and always enjoy a chance to see him at The Comedy Club. I like Mike because he’s sorta’ the opposite side of my coin. He’s all tattoos and metal, irony and darkness on the outside, and a generally nice guy on the inside. The thoughts he shares onstage are not for everyone, but tonight’s crowd seemed willing to go with him. He started by telling them he’s always nervous when he goes onstage, that “the voice in my head</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;"> usually convinces me I'm going to be fine, which settles my nerves, but today I realized it’s the same voice that tells me I'm going to pull out in time.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His jokes flow from the homeless dude who never begged from him to being bit by a feral child living in the local WalMart; from his “Charlie Brown with a drug problem” hair style to his actress girlfriend who said he never helped her become a star (I lit her on fire and shot her into space.). I enjoy guessing how Mike will go over in a particular room. Tonight, although the group initially seems unsure if laughter is even part of the program, they loosen up and laugh a little.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">Which is perfect, because the experience they’re about to have with Marc Unger is, for me, nothing short of spectacular.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Marc gets on the audience immediately: we don’t like anything, we were sitting at home, then we were clubbed over the head and suddenly found ourselves in an airplane hanger listening to Josh’s depression. In one fell swoop, he knocks the audience, the room and the MC, and I know I’m in for a fun night. First, we learn about Marc’s marriage to a beautiful 27-year-old special needs teacher (“My twelve-year-old autistic student tied his shoes for the first time today. How was your day?” “I watched six episodes of ‘Myth Busters.’”) and the issues that come up between two people looking at each other across two decades. “She’s 27, she loves sex. I’m 47. I love the History Channel." She steps out of the shower, glistening and ready for a romp; he’s glued to “American Pickers,” wondering if they’re going to buy the Shell Oil sign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wants kids, he thinks he hates them. The jokes are at once personal and universal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Marc covers a lot of territory in this set. He leads us through drug legalization for seniors (If you make it to 65, all drugs should be legal. If you’ve raised kids and they leave you in a nursing home, every night should be Bingo and Blow night at Happy Acres.), the future of reality tv (Last Sad Guy Standing: get 8 really depressed people together in a house, each with a weapon, and America tries to text them into committing suicide) and the ignorance still alive in the good ol’ USA (You’ll never hear checkmate in Shreveport, but you might hear “I ain’t playin’ with those colored pieces.”) His political bits about Clarence Thomas, Ruth Bader-Ginsberg and Anthony Scalia (so far right, he thinks Thomas is only 3/5 of a Judge) are smart and funny, without proselytizing. Some of the wittiest lines fly by so fast, I barely have time to scribble them in my notebook.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And yet, there is real depth to this material. “The way we get news, on our homepage, it’s all vomited together on the screen. We don’t know what’s important.” It IS both sad and funny that Snooki’s baby was #1 on Yahoo Trend, while a potentially planet-destroying asteroid was #5. It is a little abnormal that we can use the word friend to describe someone we’ve only met on Facebook (A friend helps you bury the hooker when you kinda’ fucked up, not send you a Star Trek quiz at 3 am.). Marc’s current show is great. Fortunately, you can find a good portion of it on his CD, “Dirty Truth,” available on iTunes, at amazonmp3 or in stores on December 6<sup>th</sup>. At <a href="http://www.marcunger.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">www.MarcUnger.com</span></a>, you can learn more about the other elements of his performance career: his acting and writing projects, his blog and radio show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">Now, let’s get to the personal stuff, since it’s obvious to regular readers what I’m about to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">I dig this guy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;"><o:p> M</o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.5pt;">arc Unger’s web site bio describes his humor as “</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">fresh, edgy and brutally thoughtful,” and I can’t argue with that. It continues, “Armed with dynamic stage presence, his explosive rants … are not only powerfully funny, but provocative as well.” Again I agree, but for one thing. While his presence is certainly dynamic, I never felt like I was listening to an explosive rant, not in the way I’m used to. That description led me to believe I’d be hearing a delivery similar to Leary or Hicks, maybe even a Kinison rage. It could be that Marc toned it down a bit, given the somber beginnings of the evening. I should have asked when he graciously sat for awhile in the back booth and discussed his comedy with me; because I hadn’t prepared by doing any homework, I didn’t realize I’d feel this way until Friday, when I checked out his net presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now it’s like I’ve somehow missed out on great opportunities because I didn’t know Marc Unger sooner. I would have gone to see his one-man show “Drinking Up the Pieces,” or any of the older ones (Nocturnal Emissions, Mindblanking). I would have watched the “Friends” and “Veep” episodes on which he appeared; actually, that’s one I can remedy, so I will watch those. How do I see “The Filchaks Take a Gamble,” which I’m sure I’d enjoy both as a new fan and as a fantasy football fanatic? I need more of Marc Unger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Drinking Up the Pieces” is about Marc’s two-year struggle with depression; he made a few references to depression throughout the show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have worked in and around the mental health community for years. I’ve had relatives, a spouse and close friends who have dealt with varying levels of depression, and went a few rounds with it myself over my lifetime. Talking to Marc one-on-one, I never got that feeling, that little drag that usually signals to me that I’m dealing with someone who’s dealing with something. He was funny, but not “on.” He was insightful. He was helpful. He struck me as an artist who knows himself, who has figured out several ways to express his understanding, and knows how to bring others along for the journey. The audience was grateful for that skill, and rewarded him with applause. I was grateful and hopefully can reward him by sending other people in search of his work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I took an entire week to write this review because I didn’t know how to start. Flipping back and forth through my notebook, Mike’s Charlie Brown reference kept drawing my eye. So I searched Charlie Brown and depression, and found a number of strips that spoke to me. Here’s the one I want to end on. “</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">When you're depressed, it makes a lot of difference how you stand. The worst thing you can do is straighten up and hold your head high because then you'll start to feel better. If you're going to get any joy out of being depressed, you've got to stand like this.” The drawing shows Charlie Brown slouching, shoulders dropped, head down. It’s the same position most of the audience started in on this particular Thursday night. But Marc Unger gave them a reason to lift their heads, straighten their shoulders and laugh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p>"Laugh at yourself and at life. Not in the spirit of derision or whining self-pity, but as a remedy, a miracle drug, that will ease your pain, cure your depression, and help you to put in perspective that seemingly terrible defeat and worry with laughter at your predicaments, thus freeing your mind to think clearly toward the solution that is certain to come. Never take yourself too seriously." - Og Mandino, psychologist and essayist</o:p></span></div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-86155042333015089922012-10-05T08:15:00.001-04:002012-10-05T08:15:09.797-04:009/27/12 Bobby Slayton, Dario Josef and Chet Wild<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dario and Chet both had short, but laugh-filled spots. Since I've said a lot
about Dario lately, I'll say it was nice seeing Chet have an opportunity to do
something other than host, even though he's a great MC. With most of his summer
devoted to running the Funniest Person in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Rochester</st1:city></st1:place>
contest, it was fun to hear him just tell jokes.<br />
<br />
All too soon, it was time for the headliner, Bobby Slayton.<br />
<br />
Twenty years ago, I laughed at a lot of Bobby's material. This night, not so
much.<br />
<br />
But many other people did, so - there's that.<br />
<br />
I can't love 'em all, but that doesn't mean you can't love the ones I don't.
<br />
<br />
You can find plenty of Bobby Slayton on YouTube, at <a href="http://www.bobbyslayton.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.bobbyslayton.com</span></a> and a million other
places. You can only find me here, so - there's that.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-64056615794736126942012-10-05T08:13:00.000-04:002012-10-05T08:13:17.704-04:009/20/12 Dan Viola, Tim Almeter and Dewey Lovett<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
With a pretty full room for a Thursday night, Steve Burr
MCing and Tim Almeter doing a spot, I was looking forward to seeing my friend
Dan Viola headline. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
We all know I sometimes have a hard time reviewing my
friends, comics whom I know on a deeper level, comics with whom I’ve shared
more than a show, and Dan is one of those people. We share that Tiny Glover
connection, which never leaves my heart and has led me to some of the coolest
people in my current sphere of influence. It’s an obvious bias with me that, if
I like you as a person, I generally enjoy you more as a comic. If you’re an
asshole, you better have damn good material – and, fortunately, many of you do!
Dan is not an asshole; he’s a family man, a clean comic and someone I’ve
enjoyed seeing come back to the stage.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Before I get to Dan, however, let me say that Tim Almeter is
quickly becoming someone I’ll be writing about too often; in a world where so
many variables have to come together to make a great show, Tim is X, the
variable we’re always looking for. For a relative newcomer, he has a wealth of
material that seems to hit more than miss. His fast delivery is an extension of
his fast thinking, so he can change gears when a particular joke doesn’t seem
to be connecting. He CAN change gears – he doesn’t always choose to. Trusting
your own voice is an ongoing battle for any artist. I’ve said before that I
admire Tim’s fearlessness; the stubbornness will prove to be an asset in a
career that depends so much on opinion. That, and the fact that he cracks
people up.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I also wanted to talk about Dewey Lovett, even though she
did her guest sets on Saturday night. Apparently, I missed the most incredible
show of the weekend, the Saturday early show, which all the comics agreed was
amazing. I was a little surprised to hear that when I saw not one, but two
bachelorette parties exiting the room. The second show was a little more laugh
resistant. While sometimes the right move may be to ignore the crowd altogether
and deliver your set as planned, Dewey used her improv experience to move
through her bits and push the audience to react. In this, her petite frame and
youthful voice were assets. No one could take offense when Dewey was sharing
her glow bracelets with the heartbroken recently-single chick, or when she was
questioning the short attention span men have while at the urinal. Her
designated slut routine (He pulled me real close and said, “My pancakes come
with sausage.” I was really thinking about breakfast, though, and said “I’m
really more of a bacon girl.”) is a thing of beauty. I look forward to bringing
you future tales of Dewey as she spends more time on The Comedy Club stage.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Now, on to Dan Viola. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Much of Dan’s material is centered on his family life,
shared with a wife and seven children, and his experiences spending fifteen
years as a public school teacher. His first big piece is about wishing he were
bilingual, so he could have been more romantic on his wedding night. He runs
through some lovely lines in the lilting sounds of Italian and French, then
hits us with the “harsh, cacophonous and intimidating” sounds of German. His
Deutschland Barney is a crowd-pleaser, and I admire anyone using the word
cacophonous properly these days. Tonight there happened to be a girl from <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Germany</st1:place></st1:country> in the
audience, which was discovered only after Dan had goose-stepped his way across
the stage. Everyone enjoyed the awkwardness as Dan and the girl exchanged a few
sentences. He then quipped, “I asked, what’s for lunch? She said, I want to
take over your country. So you’re a spy - I saw Captain <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country>.” </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
He moves on to talk about his younger brother going back to
college (Dual major in gynecology and jedi master – he’s going to be an ob/gyn
kenobi) and does his bit about Acronym Based Content 101, or ABC1 for
short. It’s the first of several fast-paced, dense jokes that require the
listener to pay sharp attention, and it’s a style I really enjoy. Later, he’ll
do bits about bathroom stall correction notes at Harvard and a
fire-and-brimstone preacher teaching Biochemistry (Hallelujah, can I get an
amino?) in the same speed-demon delivery. They all kill me.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Continuing on with jokes for local folks all about life in
Hilton (at Prom time, all the good overalls are at the cleaner’s), a rant about
today’s kids (even if you have smart kids, they have dumb friends) and their
inability to get even the simplest order (black coffee! How do you screw that
up?) right at Tim Horton’s, and he and his wife’s inability to get even the
simplest concept (birth control! How do you screw that up?) right at home. He
wraps up the show with his now-classic examination of Winnie-the-Pooh as seen
through our current medication-fueled analysis (Owl is dyslexic and delusional.
Eyeore? Depressed.) and earns a generous round of applause from the audience.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I try to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>imagine what
it must be like to be a student of Dan Viola’s; on this, and most nights he
performs locally, I can get first-hand anecdotes from former students and team
members as they stand in line, eager to shake his hand and share a memory or
two. If you’re a fan of clean comedy, seek out one of Dan’s shows. He does a lot
of fundraisers, so odds are you can enjoy a night of live comedy and help a
great cause at the same time. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Next week, Bobby Slayton.</div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-66042414561575690632012-10-05T04:47:00.000-04:002012-10-05T04:47:59.409-04:0010/4/12 After Bedtime Addendum<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
While passing and receiving "attaboys" from the After Bedtime crew, I read the following post from Bryan J. Ball: <span id=".reactRoot[3].[1][2][1]{comment352199904872391_2002524}..[1]..[1]..[0].[1]"> </span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[3].[1][2][1]{comment352199904872391_2002524}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[3].[1][2][1]{comment352199904872391_2002524}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]."><span id=".reactRoot[3].[1][2][1]{comment352199904872391_2002524}..[1]..[1]..[0].[2]..[0]">I got a great mention! Printing it and putting it on my happy wall!</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span></span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span>At first, I thought that was just sarcastic ball-busting, as I hadn't mentioned him at all. Because his name was nowhere in my meticulous notes. And I had no recall of his being onstage. </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span></span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span>So, let me fix this. Bryan J. Ball and Mikey Heller joined Kevin Ricotta in doing "Staff Revelations," one of my favorite pieces in the show because a) I know everyone they are talking about, b) even an audience of friends and family enjoy feeling like "insiders" and c) the jokes were hilarious. I stand by the fact that I took no actual notes during that bit because a) my lizard keychain light flashes like a mini-disco and wasn't a good choice in assisting my limited vision, b) I was so into what I was seeing/hearing that I couldn't drag my brain to the paper and c) it isn't only penis-based creatures who love Dewey Lovett.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span></span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span>So, my apologies to Bryan and Mikey. You'll learn more about them here in the future. Mikey won me over at an open mic night by referencing Othello and All About Steve in the same 6 minutes. In my brain, that's a great Saturday afternoon double feature. Again, guys, sorry for the miss.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span></span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span></span></span></span>And, Bryan, I hope there's still space on your happy wall. </div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-79543858931542654102012-10-03T12:35:00.000-04:002012-10-03T12:38:00.718-04:009/14/12 After Bedtime with Jimmy LeChase and Friends<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Watching the birth of a creative endeavor can bring about
all sorts of feelings in the observer, ranging from jealousy (wish I had
thought of/was a part of that) to concern (it looks a little oxygen-deprived.
is everything ok?) to utter delight (God, how beautiful! how precious!) or
anywhere else on the current emotional map of the masses. I’ve felt all of
those and more while watching friends debut their latest dance, sonnet,
concerto or canvas. Sometimes I am so breathtakingly in awe of what I’m seeing
that I forget for the moment that I, too, am an artist and have been through
this process; I know that whatever pain it took to get that piece here will
soon be forgotten in the sheer delight of its existence.</div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
That’s a strange way to begin discussing the brainchild of a
newlywed father of none, yet I feel the parallel is apt. Having a creative idea
is not that novel – people have them every day by the dozens. There are
incredible sketches, statues, stories and songs existing in the minds of your
neighbors, your fellow travelers, every second, and I personally can’t wait for
the day we can experience them telepathically. Until then, however, bringing
the idea to fruition remains the responsibility of the artist; many of us
struggle, not all of us succeed.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
After Bedtime is a success story. Delivery complete, ten
fingers, ten toes. Now all that’s left to do is raise this baby and abort this
analogy.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Kevin Ricotta began the first show by warming up the
audience and preparing us for what was to come. I love Kevin. He’s just got one
of those soothing personalities that make you think everything’s ok if he’s on your
side. While I admit that some of his jokes continue to puzzle me – I am the odd
woman out when it comes to Charles Horses – his claim to the merchandising
rights on “gravy boats and pool floats” cracked me up. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p>It was obvious by his nervous energy that this project is
important to Jimmy LeChase. When someone I’ve seen stand confidently in place
and tell even underdeveloped jokes turns in circles, drops his head and
delivers punch lines toward the wall, it’s because this show matters. But
saying this was a live theater event that we’ll be embarrassed about tomorrow
was completely off the mark. Cue cards and teleprompters exist, not just to
help people remember lines, but to force them to look at the audience, the
camera. I have no doubt Jimmy will grow more comfortable with his monologue
with every new episode.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Vasia Ivanov and Mike Gifaldi’s debate to be Jimmy’s best
friend was possibly the wittiest one I’ll see all year. Despite the passing of
time, it’s still easy to make a bad Roman Polanski joke and, given the current
kitten stranglehold on comedy, you never know who’s gonna’ go mad over
mistreatment of the cuddly critters, but these two guys were hilarious. One being my favorite misanthropic
curmudgeon and the other being someone I’d never seen until tonight, I really
enjoyed this bit. By audience applause, Mike won.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
When Austin Lafond, representative for sponsor Silent but
Deadly, Inc., was introduced as Doctor Science, I giggled out loud at what I
thought was a very clever throwback to Duck’s Breath Mystery Theater’s “Ask
Doctor Science.” A comedy team from the mid ‘70s who brought sketch to NPR in
the early ‘80s and were responsible for one of my true comedy heroes (Ian Shoales,
the alter ego of Merle Kessler), their Doctor Science bits became popular enough
to have a one-season run on Fox in 1987. I was delighted to think, for just a
moment, that someone shared this reference. Turns out, Nate Clark just has a
knack for the obvious when pressured to think up last-minute character names.
Still, I’ll never think about Agent Orange, Strawberry, Chocolate and Bubble
Gum the same way again. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<st1:city w:st="on">Crowley</st1:city> was a great first
guest, sharing stories about growing up in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Alaska</st1:place></st1:state> and dealing with drunk callers to the
radio show. I think the audience felt a sense of pride when he pronounced, “the
crowd is learn-ed” in response to one of his references. Jimmy seemed much more
relaxed once he got behind the desk, which is what you want in a talk show host,
right? Hand awareness, something many performers struggle with onstage, will come. I think many of the guys in this crew, enamored of or
enslaved by their own beards, tend to put their hands on their face more frequently
than they realize. No big deal when you’re practicing your Freud/pedophile
look, but a hindrance when the camera is directly in front of you and the
audience can’t control your volume.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p>Rounding out the rest of the show, Rick Matthews was a good choice as the first stand up guest, and delivered accordingly; “Staff Revelations” was a
great addition; Dewey Lovett’s Don’t Give a Fuck commercial (sorry, Dewey! I
was enjoying you so much, I forgot to write the actual product name in my
notes) was great; and I’m still a bit disappointed we never got to Nate Clark’s
bit, although the costume was funny enough to make me hope it makes it to
episode two. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p>Of course, there will and should be a second episode, and
many more after that until Jimmy’s ADD kicks in or everyone moves on to their
own creative endeavors. After Bedtime is a good idea well-executed. I’m sorry I
won’t make the second show (prior promise), but excited to know I’ll be able to
catch it on YouTube. The rest of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Rochester</st1:city></st1:place>
should hasten to The Space (<st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">1115
E. Main St</st1:address></st1:street>, the Hungerford Bldg, door 2, floor 2)
on Saturday, October 6<sup>th</sup> at 6:30 pm, and spend the best $5 of their
weekend enjoying the growing pains of After Bedtime with Jimmy LeChase. Sorry,
I meant to stop with the whole birth/baby thing, but I’m obviously ovulating
for absolutely no reason at this point in my life and just couldn’t let it go. </div>
</div>
Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8480494252906251724.post-72828809536466358412012-10-02T20:12:00.005-04:002012-10-02T20:13:33.152-04:009/13/12 Ben Bailey, Tim Almeter and Dario Josef<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I hadn’t yet rounded the final bend in the road that kept me
from seeing The Comedy Club, but I worried. Summer was almost over, and things
were starting to pick back up. Would this be the night? Would Ben Bailey, the
comic, be a huge draw? Would Ben Bailey, host of tv’s “Cash Cab,” bring in a
crowd?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had my answer soon enough when
I found myself parked on the far side of the pizza parlor next door. The lot
was full, the tables were full; Ben Bailey was the man. A weekend of good shows
and entertaining audience interactions solidified that impression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I made a decision a few weeks ago not to talk about the MCs
unless they were new to the role, new to the club, just to avoid becoming
redundant. I’m deviating from that because I need to talk about Dario. I have
seen Dario perform on six nights out of seven this week, and he is on fire.
I’ve watched him take real risks, blending new jokes in with some tried and
true material, and it’s paying off. The time he’s spending doing improv has
made his crowd work quicker, less mainstream. His stage presence is more
natural; his eyes are no longer on his feet. The transformation is a pleasure
to watch and I find myself laughing every time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Tim Almeter, like Dario, is also a local comic on the rise.
Finishing third in this year’s Funniest Person in Rochester Contest, Tim takes
the stage with an attitude of fearlessness. He assumes the audience will find
him funny, and they do. He jumps right in to material that can be polarizing:
talking about our differences. First up is the Indian woman on the train
platform whose son said he wasn’t going to be a doctor, like some white person,
to which she replied, “Shh. They’re right there.” Then on to a story about his
coworker’s fear (Deer are afraid of white people. Black people are afraid of
deer. White people are afraid of black people.) and the discovery of an
anti-Semitic golf cart (Who’s on the golf course good-time hatin’ Jews?). Tim
talks about things both common (speaking to your cat, wrinkling your
girlfriend’s underwear) and curious (being “regal” at the bar) at a speed that
occasionally requires you to play the joke back in your brain to make sure you
caught it. Both these guys can be found easily on Facebook, or seen live at
various open mics and Laugh Riot productions. It is well worth your time to
seek them out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Ben Bailey began by acknowledging the potential confusion
that might result for people who had only ever seen him on “Cash Cab.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He apologized for having hair, pointed out
that tv isn’t real. “Know what else isn’t real? I’m not a cab driver.” He did a
long riff on the guy down the road selling dirt and then proceeded to show us
he’d done his homework on Rochester, noting that he was downtown earlier (just
me, no one else. Tumbleweed, tumbleweed, government worker, one lone guy making
Xerox copies) and checked out the <st1:place w:st="on">Genesee</st1:place>
(thought he’d found a beer river). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Ben’s show is packed with jokes. His rhythm seems to be
premise, punch, punch, tag, tag, tag. He tries to see how far he can go without
the joke weakening. Instead of that taffy-pull feeling where the humor gets
stretched thinner the longer it goes, Ben’s jokes feel like they’re an
incredibly long rope, endlessly uncoiling, until he gets bored and moves on to
the next premise. He talks about things: traffic light countdowns, taking
people to prison in the Oscar Mayer wiener mobile. He talks about places: the
reaction of people in NYC when they see him in the cab (You’re going to be
playing the Hudson River Challenge!), “I was down South, don’t go if you don’t
have to.” He talks about people and how we talk: “Do what now?” It’s always Now
now, stop specifying.” “I don’t understand all y’all. I thought y’all was
already plural.” His bits on good ass toast and ordering multiple Guinesses
were hilarious, as was the friend wanting to borrow a scissor to cut his pant
into short. He also has a great bit about to-do lists: I woke up and looked at
my to-do list. It said “all that stuff” on it. I thought I better get up. I got
all that stuff to do and I don’t know what any of it is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">For myself and the other comedians who watched the shows
with me, the most interesting parts of Ben Bailey’s weekend were his crowd
interactions. On Thursday, there was the mini-fan club down front who brought
him a Cash Cab drawing, “This is cute. Do you have jobs? If I were a gay man,
this would be so important to me. You recruited a colleague? I thought you said
collie.” And the drunk girl: “Don’t pretend you’re mad. You have such a crush
on me. You’re like a little girl who pushes the boy off the swing because she
likes him.” Friday was intense, as there was mounting conflict with a drunk guy
who tried to be funny but just grew more annoying. Ben’s already fast pace
picked up, his anger became apparent as he went back and forth with this guy.
He reminded everyone that timing is part of the job, that he doesn’t just get
up on stage and say random stuff, there’s work and an art to it. The audience
was with him, and Mark had to go warn the guy that he was going to be escorted
out if he didn’t stop immediately. Ben continued and, for a moment, I wasn’t
sure he was as annoyed as he appeared to be. He smile/smirked a little as he
tried to bring us back. Saturday had a mini-match with an audience member, as
well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I liked watching these near-collisions. No one truly seemed
like they were gunning to screw up the show or mess with Ben Bailey – at 6’6’,
he’s really not the kind of guy most people would test for the hell of it. The
girls seemed a little star struck and the guys just seemed to have had too much
to drink and no way to turn themselves off. Watching Ben stop one step short of
losing it made the already fun show just a bit more enjoyable. In the final
moments, I heard this: “If we’ve learned anything here tonight, it’s that you
can’t learn anything at a comedy show.” Great line, but I don’t agree. I learn
things at comedy shows all the time. This weekend, I learned how much I enjoy
watching hecklers and comics collide just a little. I learned that Ben Bailey
can get people into a comedy club. And I learned that I really enjoy premise,
punch, punch, tag, tag, tag.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Aliascarlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324981425121694198noreply@blogger.com0