It is Sunday morning in the Beaver Creek, Ohio Panera Bread as I write this. Because I will be on a 16 hour Greyhound bus ride tomorrow I will not have access to Internet (or personal space and drinkable water) all day tomorrow so the road recap goes up this morning. Besides, with most of Ohio presumably staying home tonight to watch the GOAT Lebron James, I assume tonight’s show will not warrant much consideration anyway. This was my first time to Dayton giving me all the Ohio comedy merit badges (Cleveland, Cincinnati, Toledo, Columbus were already completed) so this will be chock full as I recall the loss of my Dayton virginity. And like so many of these recaps it begins with a travel story full of pain.
Greyhound to Dayton
I do not like flying. I don’t have a crippling fear, but I do not like it. And I have not been on a small plane (smaller than a MD-88 and usually not smaller than a 737) since 2009 when I did a gig in Destin, Florida. We transferred in Atlanta for a 50 seater to go to Fort Walton Beach, FL. It was a beautiful, sunny day and it was one of the bumpiest flights of my life (raising the question – WHAT THE FU*K ARE THESE PLANES LIKE IN BAD WEATHER?). Additionally, the size of seats on those planes are slightly less roomy than overhead baggage space. So I just decided that when I can’t travel on a normal sized plane (737 or bigger) I would go via other means, which means my beloved Amtrak (I am known as “The Joe Biden of Amtrak riders you don’t give a shit about” in rail transit circles) or Greyhound. Well, at $120 round trip and 16 hours Greyhound beat Amtrak in both price and time so that is how I travelled.
My bus left Port Authority bus terminal at 9:15pm on Wednesday night. I was loaded up with healthy snacks, podcasts and a hazmat suit for the 15.5 hour journey. I probably slept a total of 90 minutes during the journey, but I had my own seat for most of the trip, which was the best case scenario. And I smelled only 2 farts throughout the journey. Neither were mine.
When I arrived at Dayton I ordered a Lyft. This is what transpired next:
My Lyft driver was a 67 year old black man that gave me his Motown cover band’s card when I told him I was a comedian. Turns out his group, Touch, finished 3rd on an NBC show hosted by Nick Lachey, so you know a trip is off to a bad start when your Lyft driver in Dayton, Ohio has more entertainment juice than you do. I arrived at the club around 1:45 and got walked over to the comedy condo.
In stand up comedy there is only one C word that offends comedians and that is “Condo.” If you, as the middle act, get a hotel you have won. There is usually a minimum standard of care delivered by even the crappiest of hotels, but a comedy condo can range from “Hey this is solid!” to “Hey, this comforter is solid frozen with other comedians’ semen!” Well, the new standard for comedy condo excellence has been set by the Dayton Funny Bone (suck on it Rivercenter Comedy Club in San Antonio – the awful condo since abandoned that resembled the bug room in Temple of Doom – and the subject of a blog that got me banned from there). The apartment, which is located in a new building in the mall where the club is (literally a stone’s throw from the club) is basically a slick 1 bedroom loft type apartment with a full cable package (all the HBOs, etc). It is pretty much a better set up than 95% of hotels, so good job Dayton FB! It allows me to creepily spy on patrons of the club:
For dinner I went to The Cheesecake Factory, located a dangerous 400 feet from the condo (it is the preferred restaurant for NBA players and NBA-sized middle acts) and then I went to the club. Thursday’s show went well, sold a few albums, watched the first half of Game 1 of the NBA FInals (I could not stay up for the JR Smith debacle because even my love for Lebron must succumb to 90 minutes of Greyhound sleep.
Friday: One Good Crowd
Friday I went to LA Fitness and got swole AF. I also went to the Cheesecake Factory again (I went with a sensible dessert of Vanilla Bean Cheesecake, which is one of the lower calorie cheesecakes they offer at only 13,880 calories per slice). I watched the outstanding season finale of The Americans (thanks for not spoiling (*watching) it Black Twitter!) in Panera Bread and then, just like that, it was time for two shows at the Funny Bone.
The first audience was so so. I know that because when I was selling albums after the first show (right outside the bathrooms like some African bathroom attendant offering you CDs instead of cologne and breath mints) two young guys came up to me, bought the albums and said “We want to be comedians and I don’t know what was wrong with that crowd. You were awesome.” This proves that I perform to the back of the room, even if they are just in comedian fetus form. The second audience was awesome – they were a smaller crowd, but they bought a lot of my albums, which after 15 years (June 2nd was 15 years since I picked up a mic at the Takoma Station Tavern in D.C.) is the cynical way I judged the quality of a crowd – you can boo me, but if you buy my albums you are a good crowd.
The only blemish after the first audience was a black who came up to me and said “That ain’t your race. (proceeded to touch my hair) Nah – show me your stomach hair. Niggas got nappy stomach hair.” Now, as I have said, if I wanted to use the N word (which I don’t – there goes my shot at a Trump cabinet position) I could make a legal case in N Word Court (my new show I am pitching) presenting DNA evidence, a picture of my father and my Sprint Mobile bill as compelling proof of my half-blackness. However, I have lived my life as an HGH infused Adam Sandler with a tan so even if the N Word Constitution accords me a right to say it, in the real world I do not have license to use it. My point is writing this is that I tell my story not to take liberties with language or to “get away with” saying things. I tell my story because it is my story. But increasingly (and I have noticed a lot more skepticism in the age of Trump from black people, just like many more white people commented and asked about my race after shows during Obama’s presidency) I am having these uncomfortable interactions. My theory is that under Obama, white people were wondering if I was cashing in on the cache of being bi-racial (if they can’t be cool then why should this Italian looking guy get to be), whereas black people have been saying a lot more things to me since Trump’s election – perhaps wary of whether I am a racial and political ally or just someone trafficking in race. But whatever the case, don’t touch my hair! #BlackGirlMagic
Missed References, Guns, Thots and Prayers: Saturday
Saturday I went to LA Fitness again and got even more swole AF. I emailed the cast and crew of Comedian Combine the final script (filming June 16th – this will be one of my best sketches) and then walked 2.5 miles to the closest Catholic Church for vigil Mass. Now the weather was beautiful, but it was also 80+ degrees and after a while 2.5 miles starts to get super hot. I arrived at Church looking, as I often do in summer months, like an ISIS operative having a panic attack. Another weird thing about the Church, was the demographics of the attendees. Not an exaggeration – there was one beige dude (me), 4 Asians and about 800 extremely white people. I have noticed this more and more on the road and after reading Richard Rothstein’s The Color of Law (which made my last blog – my recommended U.S. History reading list) I can’t help but think of the historical shame of how segregated our cities are (and how the book thoroughly explains was done by design at the highest levels of federal and state government, in addition to local and personal prejudices that created, and sustain, a world of white middle class wealth). I wanted to ask the people around me “Don’t YOU think it is weird that EVERYONE looks the same in here?”
As I walked back from Mass I stopped in a Wendy’s for a chicken sandwich. It was just me and these two people:
Coupled with my Mass experience I almost want to ask “If you moved to a town without scary minorities to feel safe, why the need for the gun you paranoid, fat Nick Offerman-looking cuck!? Al Qaeda is not coming for you, no matter what your Greyhound Bus Depot security thinks (see video above). And you probably have zoning laws that would bar people that have the same skin color as people in MS13 or the Crips from moving here. Besides I could take that from you if I wanted to – I AM THE CAPTAIN NOW!” During my meal two girls came in and ordered food and then one proceeded to sit with her bare feet on the seat and I thought, “Excuse me Donald Glover, but THIS IS AMERICA – an old, scared white dude with a glock on his side and a millennial putting her bare feet up in a restaurant.”
The first show went OK that night, but in the same set I made an Alex Jones reference (and then polled the crowd and only 1/3 had even heard of him) and a Nino Brown reference (and only about 7 people knew what I was talking about) in the same set and thought America’s ability to get references has to be somewhere between those two, but alas it was an epic fail. I also made a Rocky IV reference on the late show and almost no one had seen it. And they call themselves patriots?
I went back to the condo after the first show to upload the video to my computer and by the time I got back to the club everyone had left (the headliner did a shorter set than he had been doing) so I sold nothing after the first show. Fortunately the late show would be the best crowd (only heckling I got was on the late crowd, so they sucked under normal definitions of crowd quality, but as I wrote earlier, albums sales are the sole factor determining a crowd’s quality form here on out). I did get a good new bit, as well as a pop culture phrase I have invented. Enjoy “”Tater Thots”:
As my set was winding down I started going into my bit about how it is tough to ask a guy to settle down in 2018. A bit that has been doing well for me and was 4/4 in Dayton, but then some dumb, attractive woman and her tatted up, sleeveless shirt, dip swallowing boyfriend/man/friend decided to chime in (I think she was also a Trump supporter, so let’s just use another one of my linguistic inventions – she was a Trunt). I do not hate stupid people. They were stupid based on their support of Trump and their inability to understand the premise of a joke. But they were confident stupid people and I hate those mfers. So I aborted the joke, but I think it helped propel album sales because when I made my self-deprecating album pitch a black man yelled out “We Got You!” and I thought “I don’t believe in Wakanda Forever, but perhaps today we are all Wakandans!” I sold well after the show and even gave two black men (I believe one of them was the man who shouted his support) and their dates a breakdown of their relationships as Trump (I gave my endorsement to the black man dating a black woman, but told the black man dating a white woman that I did not approve, which had them all laughing). I then went back to the condo to find The Dark Knight was on. I stayed up til 2am watching it because it was only Wakanda for a day – it is The Dark Knight forever. And here is a beautiful shot of Beaver Creek I took on my way to Church:
This week I was in Liberty Township, Ohio (a suburb near Cincinnati made for the wealthy people of southern Ohio who love Trump, but don’t like sharing a zip code with the people from The Hills Have Eyes in southern Ohio that also like Trump) to perform at the Liberty Funny Bone (as part of my upcoming tour I will also be performing in Freedom, Illinois; These Colors Don’t Run, Missouri; and Colin Kaepernick is an Ungrateful Nigra, Alabama in September). The trip was one that did not involve Amtrak or Greyhound. Instead I used points on Southwest (which is the phrase you use when you want a woman’s vagina to dry up and collapse on itself like a black hole) to get to Cincinnati (the closest airport to the Township). The trip involved multiple Cheesecake Factory meals, a futuristic and stylish hotel, several killer sets and the usual absence of sidewalks for walking around in fat America. So without further adieu here is the recap:
Thursday – Inauspicious Start
When I got to LaGuardia Airport on Thursday I made my way to the Southwest area to check my suitcase. As I was winding through the roping (there was not much of a line) I saw some balding bro douche just duck under the rope and walk in front of me. I am still at a loss for what to do in these situations. I don’t have a calm, middle ground. I chose to stare at him like I wanted to beat him to death because I felt like my only other option was to actually beat him to death. I genuinely believe that murderers don’t do as much damage to society as people like this douche bag. Murder is an outlier in society. But people who show a lack of courtesy or respect are legion and they eat away at your spirit like termites in the walls of a house. He clearly saw me winding through the ropes and made the calculation that he could cut with no repercussion. And then, restraining myself from calling him a piece of fu*king sh*t and putting him in a choke hold, I start to feel the anger reinforcing itself because my restraint is become a self-fulfilling prophecy for him to get away consequence free. In other words I was ready to make the people of Ohio laugh!
But first was a stop in Chicago. Southwest Airlines basically requires every flight going west to stop in Midway for 4 hours… even if your stop is halfway back in the direction you just came from. So I read for a couple of hours in Midway Airport, but was very disappointed to see that both Potbelly and Ben and Jerry’s had both closed. In their places were a terrible pizza place and a Dunkin Donuts. So I got a Chocolate Long John from DD, which made me realize my 4 favorite donuts from Dunkin Donuts all have overtly homoerotic names:
- Chocolate Long John
- Boston Creme
- Glazed Stick
- Jizz Filled Phallus Surprise
When I landed in Cincinnati just before 4 pm I was picked up by Chris, an employee of the club. We had a pleasant 90 minute drive to the club (horrible traffic). I checked into my hotel, which was super stylish, meaning it looked nice, but had several features that were useless (see my Instagram video from Sunday to see a list).
The 1st show of the week was a good one, though it would end up being the least receptive crowd of the week for me. After selling 1 CD (cheesecake money!) I went back to the hotel to watch the Elian Gonzalez documentary on CNN. I had the volume on my TV at 13 out of a possible 100 and it was 10 pm. Then, at 1025 pm I heard a knock at the door. My mind first went “was that my door?” and with a second knock a minute later I wondered “is there a Liberty Town Whore at my room?” so I got up, put some pants and a shirt (I was in boxer briefs because I was settling in for sleep) and went to the door. I was greeted by a short Latino man wearing hotel gear who informed me that he had received noise complaints about how loud my television was. He then immediately said he would inform the people that they were wrong because he could not even hear my TV from the hallway when my door was closed. When he left I just turned off the TV. With the Gestapo atmosphere I was not longer inspired to watch a documentary about a 6 year old boy’s quest for freedom. If I cannot be free in a place called Liberty, is anyone really free?
Friday and Saturday – Cheesecake, Comedy and Sidewalks to Nowhere
On Friday I tried to walk to an LA Fitness 1.9 miles from the hotel. On Saturday I tried to walk to a Catholic Church (St Maximilian “Catholic Mamba” Kolbe Church to be exact). Both missions to better myself physically and spiritually failed. Why? Because America is a series of fat, car-addicted, sidewalk-less places. Making it to either place would have involved risking my life along highways and roads so I opted to live, though perhaps being a martyr would have been interesting:
Saint Jean-Louis Cauvin, died battling America’s obesity when he was hit by a Ford truck on an Ohio highway. His two miracles are turning a profit on a feature gig in Detroit that paid $300 for 5 shows, with no hotel provided and for taking an Amtrak for 30 hours without contracting any foot-borne illnesses.
I also made trips to the Cheesecake Factory on both days (they are donating 25 cents of every piece of cheesecake sold to charity this month, so call me the American Red Velvet Cross). On the second day my waitress was a pleasant young lady with an ample bosom and derriere. To me this felt like overkill by The Cheesecake Factory. You had me at “Cheesecake and 835 page menu.” There is no need to complicate this and turn it into a soft core porn where I cannot decide what I want more, the Hazelnut cheesecake or the waitress. I am thinking of making a Cheesecake Factory-themed porn where it starts with a busty woman delivering food, but then she leaves and I end up moaning in delight as I eat cheesecake and unbutton my pants, but only to make room for my expanding stomach, filled with cheesecake. #CheesecakeBae
The 4 shows were great between Friday and Saturday. Made some sales, made a few fans, blah blah blah. Here’s a highlight reel of various jokes and interactions with the crowds from the Saturday shows:
Sunday – Noneday
Nothing much to report (mainly because I am writing this at lunch in a Starbucks and all I plan on doing to day is sketch writing and making one more trip to the brothel known as The Cheesecake Factory.
I have been in Los Angeles for the last five days and it was a trip befitting my social media hashtag #ComedyMogul. I was making big media appearances, performing at stand up clubs and engineering deals with one of the biggest chain restaurants in the country. It was one of my most productive trips to the west coast ever, even though every plural in the proceeding sentence should actually be a singular. As I write this in an airport motel with plans soaring uncomfortably close every 10 minutes I am beaming with a sense of pride that I managed to crush it on the #1 podcast on iTunes, had a great set at a comedy club and filmed it and helped start a potential big deal between the Cheesecake Factory and a new craft beer, ALL while managing to earn exactly zero dollars while doing it all. This is what Black Twitter would call “Peak J-L.” So here is the recap you have been waiting for.
Saturday – The Gentlemen’s Lodge
My flight out was pretty uneventful. My legs felt good because I was in the Extra leg room seats (still unfair that in this day of trans bathrooms a tall man must pay extra to be in seats that fit) and I watched Daddy’s Home, a perfect airplane movie starring Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg (very funny throughout, not really sure why critics crushed it, but perfect way to pass 100 minutes on a cross country flight). I also had a 2 hour conversation with the woman sitting next to me, who happened to work for digital advertising for YouTube. We had a fun chat about politics, millennials, digital ads (I told her the kinds that I am most likely to watch – so now she has a good sample study of comedy moguls’preferences) and how I can help my content get more views. She said I should aim to get to 5000 subscribers because then I have access to YouTube studios. With just over 1500 subscribers at my current pace I asked her to reserve me some space in 2032 for me to record some killer content.
When we landed in LA I was greeted by my buddy Nick D. in his Mercedes and he drove me to my hotel in Studio City. Thanks to Hotwire.com I got a great deal at a place named The Gentlemen’s Lodge. I figured the great deal I got was based on the fact that in Los Angeles, a place called The Gentlemen’s Lodge would either be a far right enclave where conservatives hunted teenage boy and girl runaways for sexual sport or it would simply be an ironically named place where gay orgies were taking place. Well, it turns out it was just a normal hotel, despite the presence of kids named Harper and Brooklyn roaming the hallways. The rest of the day was uneventful as I prepared for a big next couple of days.
Sunday – Comedy Mogul Down!
I woke up at 4:45 am on Sunday because I never adjust well to the time zone change. But I felt energized and decided to get up and go for a run like I was the Rock sharing annoying Instagram workout pics. Around 5:45 I started jogging on a quiet and empty road. Feeling good, like I might be able to churn out a couple of extra miles I made the mistake of relaxing and feeling a moment of happiness. Just when those feelings infected me I tripped. I rarely trip. It’s sort of weird. I will sometimes have my foot catch on something and not trip either because of balance or gait or weight distribution but I rarely trip. Well, about ten years of never trips caught up in one epic fall. When I hit the ground I scraped my palms, busted open one of my knuckles, busted my knee wide open (it still has not scabbed yet 4 days later) and bruised (or worse) my ribs. I don’t even understand how I could have fallen only once and done that much damage to so many different body parts, but at my height maybe it’s like falling from a 2nd story window. Whatever the case I was basically a gimpy invalid the rest of the trip. But that didn’t stop me from heading to Flappers in Burbank that night.
Despite performing at 1:20 am east coast time I had a great set closing the side room at the club. Here is a quick clip of my new material about my dog Cookie. Enjoy:
Monday – Cage, Crushing Carolla & Cheesecake
Monday was celebrity day for me. When I limped to the Starbucks across the street from TGL I was on line next to the actor who plays Luke Cage (co-star of Netflix’ Jessica Jones and the start of his own Netflix series this Fall). We both played it cool, which was refreshing – just getting treated like a regular Starbucks customer and not a Comedy Mogul.
That afternoon I headed to Carolla Studios and had a great appearance (best one of the 6 I have made). You can listen to the episode here and also watch my new Carolla sketch video I made for the show:
But the biggest thing I did had nothing to do with comedy. Ryan is the manager at the Pasadena Cheesecake Factory and a big fan of The Adam Carolla Show. My friend’s girlfriend is a waitress there and when Ryan found out last year that I was the guy that did the impressions on Carolla I began to see my bills shrink exponentially at the Cheesecake Factory. As the second biggest regular celebrity at the Pasadena Factory (Terry Crews currently holds the #1 spot) I wanted to give back and show my appreciation for being treated so well. And it turns out that a few hours before I went on the air I learned that Ryan was hoping to get Adam Carolla’s new craft beer into the Pasadena Factory (yes I am aware that calling The Cheesecake Factory, “The Factory,” is hugely douchey). So on air I brought up the idea of Adam getting his Endless Rant IPA into the PCF and the idea was a hit with him and later his producers when I connected them to Ryan. So now in addition to #ComedyMogul I am also a budding #CheesecakeMogul. I have never read Trump’s The Art of the Deal, but I am pretty sure I just wrote the sequel in Pasadena.
Tuesday & Wednesday – Sun, More Cheesecake & 2 Nicks
Tuesday was the only full day I had to soak up some Sun because, like The Nothing in The Neverending Story, dark cluds metaphorically and literally follow me. After getting a little darker I then headed back to the Cheesecake Factory to get more free food and to soak up Ryan’s praise since he had now heard the deal get sealed on air, along with his name said on the air. I then ended the evening watching CNN in bed because I was too sleep to check out some LA shows. I fell asleep at 9:45pm local #RockStarLife
Wednesday was uneventful – met up with my buddy Nick Cobb and met his infant daughter (I asked her if she could put in a good word with me at MTV2) and completed my trip goal of hanging with only two different friends in LA and having them both be named Nick. Now I am about to go to sleep in my Super 8 Motel with jets lodly flying overhead. Can’t wait to get back to NYC and earn some money doing legal work, but to be fair this was as good an unpaid trip as I could hope to have. Hoping some good things materialize in the next few weeks, but hopefully they don’t pay. #KingOfAllUnpaidMedia
Well I am back in NYC after a great and productive week in Los Angeles. Last blog I gave a thorough recap of Comics Unleashed (hoping the check arrives in the mail this week) but that was only part of the trip. The next day I was on The Adam Carolla Show for the third time in 2014, which is coincidentally how many times I ate dinner at the cheesecake factory in the three nights I was in LA (a friend is a waitress there, which mean discounts, #blessed). The appearance went really well (you can listen here) and only one person on the Facebook post wrote “I hate jl” in the comments section. Now the Carolla producer is in talks with my management (meaning my hotmail account) to have me on as a call in segment, rebooting an old Adam Carolla segment from his television show. Normally I would not jinx an opportunity like this but a) it is unpaid and b) it is unpaid so what am I really jinxing by telling you before it airs? So, hopefully this happens and allows me to continue to grow my fan base through the ACS. Now I am back to submitting for contract legal work to fill in the large gaps in my comedy calendar. So while that happens here is a pic of better times of myself, Adam and Matt Achity of Rotten Tomatoes:
With 12 days in San Antonio I thought I would model the blogs while I am here (assuming there are no pressing issues or injustices to discuss) on the 12 Days of Christmas (except I will probably only write 4-6 times while here, so it’s nothing like it really). I had a jam packed day yesterday full of laughs and disappointment, but first a quick comment about the Boston Bomber on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine:
I don’t care. I am not offended, nor am I wildly supportive of it. Magazines do it all the time.
OK, enough of that. I woke up at 4am for my 7 am Delta flight (NYC-ATL-SAT) because I take flights in the “comedian budget” price range, which usually means either something before farmers wake up or something with more connections than Kevin Bacon. Now when I left my apartment at 445 am it was 82 and muggy. When I stepped out of the airport in San Antonio it was 80 and not humid. I then allowed myself to feel positive about comedy for a second. Uh oh.
To kill time in the afternoon I ate Chick Fil-A (as a man trying to lose weight sticking me in a hotel surrounded by a Chick Fil-A and a Cheesecake Factory is cruel and unusual). And yes I ate at Chick Fil-A. They do not bar gays from eating there so they aren’t a Southern Woolworth’s counter from the 1960s and they are not state sponsored like Apartheid, so even though I don’t agree with the owner (is the next step to boycott any company whose CEO votes Republican?), I think almost all big business owners in America are scumbags in some way or another (I don’t believe there’s such a a thing as an honest billion dollars). The employees are nice and the food is tasty. But for my heart’s sake I won’t be going back this week.
I then went to (what should be the headline of this blog) the best movie theater in America to see Pacific Rim. Here is why the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema is the best:
- When I asked for my ticket to Pacific Rim (FREE for comedians) the woman asked me “It’s 3-D… is that OK?” EXACTLY – I appreciate her asking if 3- is ok, because too many people treat paying extra and wearing glasses as some privilege of cinema. I like her stance that 3-D may not be everyone’s firs choice.
- The theater kicks you out if you talk or text during the movie.
- There is a FULL menu. I am talking like a Cheesecake Factory-lite level menu. Delicious food, milkshakes and movie snacks are available. I got a popcorn, which was some of the best popcorn AND the largest popcorn I’ve ever had for $6.
- The theater has a lounge (where I mapped out my set for the show) and a bar.
In other words – this theater is Heaven on Earth for me. Seriously – my low key career goal is to own an golden retriever. My high end goal is to make a ton of money and then retire and own/manage one of these theaters somewhere.
In less important news, Pacific Rim was not good. The effects are absolutely tremendous, but the acting and writing ranges from high school play to porn. But I ate like a king and my ticket was free so no big deal. I have 4 more days and will be reviewing The Conjuring tomorrow (and possible RIPD also this weekend). The only thing I won’t see there is Grown Ups 2. No amount of pleasure can mask that pain.
So then it was show time (after a Subway dinner – BALLER!) I headlined the Wednesday show for about 30 people. It went great, though one woman kept interrupting me. After the show I sold one CD, and lost two sales because I do not have a credit card thingamajig on my cell phone. I then took the $10 from the sale and bought myself a piece of $8 cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory on the way home as I warned the crowd I would during an epic 10 minute bit about my struggles with weight loss. Here’s a clip from the show:
So that was all day 1!! What does the rest of this week have in store? Check in Monday morning for the next update.
If you are bored for me check out my podcast this week – been getting rave reviews and a lot of listens – the bi-racial lawyer’s thoughts on George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin. Enjoy – http://righteouspk.podomatic.com/entry/2013-07-15T19_37_08-07_00