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Blog #2 of the first year: More Adventures on the 1 Train (from 4/16/06)

It was Easter Sunday and it seemed like a normal trip on the train down to the gym after Church. As the 4 avid readers of my blog may know from my March 27th posting (Inside Man…) crazy things can go down on the 1 train on the weekend and this Sunday was no exception.

I was sitting and reading when a Latino couple in their 30s got on the train and proceeded to have an extremely loud and annoying argument for approximately twenty minutes about how to use a metrocard and who had the metrocards, etc. People in my car definitely found it extremely annoying by a lot of eye rolling and sighing. But nothing can make a young Latino couple make up faster than a homophobic, racist white guy in army gear.

As the couple continues to fight in walks a man in his early 30s dressed in full army camoflouge, in case the train turned into a jungle, with dog tags and a backpack. I do not think he was a veteran of any war, unless it was the War on Drugs, which he definitely lost.

This was no big deal, but when an apparently harmless man in his 40s walked into the car, army fantasy camp guy turned into Bill Paxton from Aliens. What follows is a severely edited (this would be like playing Scarface on network tv) transcript of the train ride:

Army of None: STOP FOLLOWING ME

40 yr old: I am not following you.

Army: YES YOU ARE. YOU ARE AN F—ING FA—OT WITH AIDS AND YOU ARE ATTACKING ME WITH YOUR FINGER

40 yr old: Just let me pass.

(exit 40 yr old)

Latino Male (LM): What is your problem (no longer fighting with Latino woman)?

Army: MY PROBLEM IS THAT HE IS A F—ING F—OT WITH AIDS WHO ATACKED ME WITH HIS FINGER AND WANTED TO MAKE HIS SPEECH, SO I EXERCISED MY RIGHT AS AN AMERICAN TO LEAVE AND NOT BE ATTACKED BY A FA—-OT WITH AIDS.

Latina Woman (LW): You can only get AIDS through sexual transmission.

J-L inner monologue: (in that case can I have your used heroin needle please)

LM: Yeah and watch your language.

Army: Why don’t you shut up bitch? (rhetorical question) I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO EXPLAIN MYSELF TO YOU ABOUT PROTECTING MY SELF FROM (guess what) A FA—T WITH AIDS.

LW: Do you have issues with your sexuality?

Army: No I do not, but I do have a problem with you explaining myself to you N–GG-R.

J-L inner monologue: Well this just got interesting… and what about that guy’s finger attacking you?

LW & LM: N-GG-R? What?? And you’re a piece of white, trailer park sh-t?

Army: That’s right I’m a white trash N-GGA – with an A.

J-L inner monologue: good distinction sir.

LW: Do you know the meaning of the word N-GG-R? it means ignorant and right now you look like the only N-GGa/er in this train.

J-L inner monologue: You make a good point LW, but niggardly actually means cheap, but I get your point.

LM: What if I was to get up and kick your ass?

J-L inner monologue: Good question. What Would Jesus Do (even though it is Easter I do not mean JC, I mean Jesus, LM’s cousin)?

Army: take your best shot (arms open)

LM: Call me something and we’ll see. call me a Sp-c or a N-gg-R or bitch.

Army: Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job yourself.

J-L inner monologue: that’s true, but you were even better Army.

Train announcer: next stop 66th street

J-L inner monologue: Damn – my stop.

LW: (yells at Army)

Army: Well that’s cause you’re a Sp-c N-GG-R Bitch!

J-L inner monologue: Hey now that is too far. Unless me and my Latina lady have a daughter I do not see any SNBs. But good effort at unbelievably super racist comments – not accurate but the whole train feels your anger.

And then I exited the train, yelling to the conductor that there is a problem in Car #3, but he did not seem to care.

If you go back to the Inside Man blog (3-27-06) you will see that this is not the first time someone has added a race to the slur N-GG-R bitch. My uncle was once called a WNB by a student, so with that I give my final grades to the performers.

Army: A for effort – and shock. I mean most people only think that kind of racism and homophobia exist in movies and the Ali G show. However, your overall grade is an F for being a total waste of a human being and army fatigues.

LM: Overall grade C-. He loses early for yelling at his woman about a metrocard, but gets some quality points late for stepping to Army. However, when called to take his best shot he did not.

LW: A-. If she had been hotter she would have gotten an A+, but she made some valid points and unlike LM did not start a fight over a metrocard.

Subway Conductor: D- for not paying attention to me, but could be as high as an A if he called the police – who knows?

Guy with AIDS; Although he allegedly already has 4 letters I will give him another A, because he took a very harsh and unjustified attack quietly and without causing a scene. Of course if he was lying about having AIDS I guess it is much better for him, but he would get an F for lying to the riders of the 1 train.

All I can say is thank God it was Easter and people were acting civilized. I will be taking the 1 train on Saturday and Sunday (22nd and 23rd) if anyone wats to accompany me for the next adventure.

The Height of Comedy – 6 days and counting.

Blog #3 of the 1st Year: Weird Science (from 5/4/06)

According to the NY Daily News, there are 11 middle schools in NYC with the word “science” in their official title. At 6 of these 11 schools, a majority of the eighth grade students failed the State Science Exam last year. NYC has been pumping out lots of ads for Science and math teachers. Unforunately, they have not been advertising enough for science and math students. Interestingly enough, these statistics do once and for all disprove the theory of intelligent design.

Leading the way was my hometown borough, the Bronx, where at the “Math, Science and Technology Through the Arts Intermediate School” 13% of eight graders passed the exam. Perhaps instead of teaching science “through the arts” they should try teaching students “through the science” or change their names to “Burger, Fries, Large Coke Through Inattendance Intermediate Babysitting.”

As a side note, before getting back to science, The article also cited the “Bronx Writing Academy,” where over 80% of eighth graders failed the English exam. When asked to comment the school’s principal said, “The tests results is wrong.” Through an interpreter. I have since learned that they have re-named the school the “Derek Zoolander School For Kids Who Can’t Read Good.”

At the Academy of Environmental Sciences, 15% passed. When asked whether he thought global warming was real or required more study, the school’s principal replied, “Never heard of it.” Then he was appointed head of the EPA.

Through student interviews I have discovered the causes for these declining test scores. Here they are in the students own words:

“I’m in the middle of a Madden Franchise on PS2,”

“The school still does not provide the eighth graders with day care facilities,”

“if I already made it to eighth grade without studying or going to class, why starts now?”

“F–k that S–t”

I think what we are losing sight of is that 8th grade science is not rocket science. In fact it is not even biology. In most places it is Earth Science. Rocks. The kids of NYC are failing rocks! The phrase “dumb as rocks” has now been replaced with “you’re as dumb as a kid who failed rocks.”

One person in the article did offer a legit response. She said that you cannot judge a kid’s ability on one test. Many of the kids at her school have trouble reading and doing math. That is an excellent point Principal. So, how did he or she get to the 8th grade in the first place? I remember making fun of kids who had trouble reading. It was not nice of me. I was also in the 1st grade. In 8th grade if you cannot read, you either require braile or should not be in the 8th grade.

Next week the city will be releasing the foreign language results. I received early results and only 33% passed. In all fairness English is very difficult.

Blog #4 of the 1st Year: Cell Phone Controversy (from 4/13/06)

I saw on the news last night, and read in the paper this morning, a story about some students that were arrested during large student protests at a Brooklyn high school for causing a disturbance. It occurred when the students refused to give up their cell phones as per NYC public school rules (the rule has been in place for sometime, but I believe based on my expose on reggaeton and ringtones (4/5/06), Mayor Bloomberg has finally decided to act).

One teacher said he was happy the students were protesting because it was a nice civics lesson, but he hoped they could apply their enthusiasm to things like political elections or war protest. Sorry Mr. Kotter – but I think if students place that big a priority on their Nextel, they could give two sh**s about the president or the war in Iraq (which acording to the students polled are George Washington and Vietnam).

Some of the kids on the news were saying if there is an emergency and their parents need to reach they need their cell phones. Hmmmm, I don’t know, but hopefully a parent knows the following:

1)where their child goes to school

2) when their child is at said school

3) a phone number for said school

4) their child’s name

Now I know that in many cases the parent does not know their child’s name (Shawn Kemp, Larry Johnson – this means you), but if that is the case parents like that are far too busy trying to have more kids to care about their existing child’s/children’s emergencies.

Furthermore, if the child has an emergency (ipod battery not charged, sex with the teacher is not as good as it used to be) they can always use one of those primative devices known as a pay phone to call home.

Somehow I feel that these kids do not get nearly as upset when they get a D on their history test or when they leave their backpack at home (on the subway I am often amazed at how many future Fortune 500 CEOs go to school routinely without backpacks, books or condoms).

I think the reason the city gave for the ban makes no sense though – “cell phones are disturbing the learning process.” That is what it should do – kids that want to play with their ringtones, send pictures and talk all day should not be stopped from doing so. What will happen to industries like telemarketing, soft core porn and loitering if all the kids pay attention in class? To sum up my point – I would like to give a summary of a joke comedian Anton Shuford (Philly comic) has told:

“I was a teacher, 4th grade, and I had a student named _____.” The kid was 13 in the 4th grade. So I asked _____ one time, ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ and he said real tough, ‘I don’t want to be nothing.’ So I looked at him and said, ‘Well, young man you are on your way.’ I stopped assigning him homework halfway through the year. I mean who am I to mess up a kid’s dream.”

So I say to the high school students of NYC who want to keep their cell phones, ipods, PSPs, and vibrators in school – this is one comic who will not stand in the way of your dreams.

9 days until The Height of Comedy

Blog #5 of the 1st Year: Never Underestimate The Power of the Handicapped. (from 9/12/06)

On my way home from work (yes, despite my strong 55th place showing at the Boston Comedy Festival I still have my day job) I saw something interesting. Passing through a neighborhood known as Kingsbridge Heights I was walking to the bus that would take me home. I saw the usual thing: young men hanging on street corners, woman ranging from the pornographic to the diabetic, and then I saw her: A woman in her late 30s in a wheel chair.

As I waited for the bus I noticed that the woman was not bad looking. Not great looking, but nice enough that most people will have a more sympathetic reaction, as if to say: “Awwww, she was nice looking – it’s a shame what happened to her,” while implying, “If she had been ugly she may not have found a mate anyway, so the wheel chair is more of an inconvenience than an actual life-changing event.”

But more striking than her looks, which were not very striking was the fact that she was a drug dealer.

As I stood in my suit and government issued haircut I noticed a woman approach her and hand her a ten dollar bill, to which drugs on wheels said: “Why you doing this sh-t out in the open?” and handed her a small baggie for the money.

So from now on I think it’s important for people to know that just because someone is handicapped does not mean that they too can’t be a piece of sh-t. She is helping her community mirror her legs, atrophied and decaying. Doesn’t she know that is the government’s job to maintain a permanent underclass? That’s why we pay our taxes, so please leave it to the elected professionals. But then before I got too serious I thought to myself, what kind of jokes can I make at this drug dealer’s expense?

1) What does the sign on her bathroom look like – is it one of those wheelchairs, but instead of a stick figure it is Scarface sitting slouched in the chair?

2) Has she lost her amateur status or can she compete in the Special Olympics’ “Deal and flee from the police” event?

3) I wonder if she can still have kids. There are a lot of people who shouldn’t be having kids having kids. I guess the next step is that those who can’t have kid have kids. It would be like a miracle if she did have a kid though. My guess is that his name would be Jesus.

Just thought I would share that story with you. Have a nice primary day.

Comedy Without Reservations B. 2/13/07 D. 2/28/07

As I sit here contemplating my life as an open mic/bringer superstar, listening to “What Goes Around” by Justin Timberlake, as if I am some jilted/jaded bitch in a music video, I am coming to grips with some harsh news. My comedy group, Comedy Without Reservations, has been cancelled by T.G. Whitney’s, a desolate and pathetic bar on 53rd Street. After two shows.

A brief recap:

Our first show took place during a snowstorm. According to Frank, the owner of T.G.’s, our $400 in receipts and $70 in tips over a 100 minute show were not sufficient. He said that he lost money that night because of us. Pardon me, I did not realize the tumbleweed rolling in your empty downstairs bar was buying drinks. Maybe having a bar open in a storm on a Tuesday cost you money. We were there to do a show that could benefit everyone, not subsidize an unpopular bar.

Fast forward to our next show. Fewer people – our bad. But Frank decided to have the bartender, who was an amateur bartender at best and introducing himself to neighbors in his community by force of law at worst, charging up to $2 more per drink upstairs. Furthermore, there was a live karaoke band downstairs which felt and sounded like a 3.0 on the Richter scale throughout our show. Thanks Frank for giving our show absolutely no chance whatsoever. Why not have cash giveaway downstairs and torture chambers upstairs just to make sure no one comes to our show.

(ON A SIDE NOTE): I did see some guy leave a 50 cent tip on a $15.50 bill at our show. I almost choked him.

So today I get a message with Frank telling me that he is “not inclined to have us do our show this Wednesday.” Well, that is probably good because if he fu-ked us any more we would have to charge him and then he’d bitch about losing more money.

But this just illustrates a bigger problem that I am having with comedy. With no agent, no manager and a potential future (dwindling but still there) I am not really fitting into the mold of the comedy industry. I think I have turned friends into acquaintances and acquaintances into people I harass with e-mails about bringers. So I thought doing a free show would both encourage people to come out and give me time to work on my material without having to focus on meeting a minimum for people. But even that has hit a temporary snag. I tried to put my dream of “making it” on indefinite hold just for the chance to throw a fun show every two weeks with laughter as the only goal. But even that can get crushed by some prick with an empty bar.

Fortunately there is a silver lining: my friends and I have lined up a better and more supportive venue for our shows. But like a battered wife I wonder if I am just saying, “Oh this time comedy has changed. It isn’t going to cause me sleepless nights and questioning decisions I have made with my life.” But I am sure with shows at Caroline’s on March 13th and Gotham on April 10th I will be prostrating myself in front of the comedy powers that be hoping that they will see that special spark or that “it factor.” But I guess someone has to be watching for that to happen.

But I guess the news isn’t all bad – I am 2 ½ years from vesting in my office pension.

Barry Bonds Feet and the 1st Great Movie of 2007

So one of my favorite books of the last year, Game of Shadows, is now in paperback and there has been a lot of talk on the sports radio stations of some new revelations in the paperback edition. Mainly, the fact that Barry Bonds, the testicle-less slugger for the San Francisco Giants, has seen his head, chest and feet grow remarkably over the last decade.

Now if Barry Bonds had started the decade at age 7 that would make sense. But his head has grown 3/8 of a hat size, his jersey size has gone from a 42 to a 52 and his shoe size has gone from a 10.5 to a 13 during his 30s!

You know what they say about guys with big feet – Human Growth Hormone. I actually believe that Barry Bonds began taking hormones and steroids to compete in the dating market in San Francisco. If you have ever heard him speak, he is somewhere between Richard Simmons and the flaming guy in Best in Show.

But San Francisco remains in the news with Zodiac, the movie that is being hailed as the first great movie of the year by film critics. I am excited because it is from David Fincher who directed Seven, one of my favorite films.

As I understand it the film is about a man who terrorized San Francisco, caused the death of many people and was never brought to justice. I just wonder who is playing George W.

Threee of four #2’s that you probably don’t want to read about

First off, as predicted in an earlier blog, my second nephew will be born (C-section) on April 24th (not intentional because my sister-in-law did not remember my birthday at the time). That means my first nephew shares the same birthday as my brother and my second nephew will share my birthday. Now I have only have 14 months to come up with really good excuses for forgetting my second nephew’s birthday.

My website is about to begin its second year on the internet. I am throwing a party for the 7 blog readers. Not really, but I will be indulging in a little self-praise by posting my favorite 5 blogs of the first year March 5th thru March 9th.

And lastly, but most importantly, my comedy group “Comedy Without Reservations” just had its second show. Now imagine you were putting on a comedy show and the venue’s owner was giving you a hard time, sort of like Jack Nicholson’s character in The Departed. Well, fortunately Hoboken was nothing like that. Great fun, great crowd, great show. Our next one is this Wednesday back in NYC – check wwww.myspace.com/zeroreservations for info. There are photos in my blog photo section from the show. Also, there is a 100% chance of snow tomorrow because our show has landed on the only two snow days of the winter. 3rd times the charm.

Sh-t!!!

Today it was announced that Wimbledon (not the movie with Kirsten Dunst, the tennis tournament featuring jacked black women from Compton) will be paying their women competitors as much as their male counterparts. I, for one, am not ready. Do these women pay for dinners? Do they have paternity suits left and right? Probably not. Sure, women’s tennis is a bigger draw than men’s these days, but can any of them beat Roger Federer? The answer is no and until they can they should make $53,000 less for winning the tournament. But this is just part of a larger conspiracy.

Harvard, in response to their past president’s comments about women having smaller brains (maybe that was Borat) or being weaker in math and science, has named its first female president. An audacious move definitely, but look at how Harvard eased into this:

1) The woman’s name is Drew. Her first name. That is a man’s name.

2) She looks like Janet Reno’s butch cousin.

Steps like this allow men to ease into a world where equality is demanded.

So now we must discuss the biggest change of all – a possible female President of the United States. She would be only the second president, after Abraham Lincoln, to have sex with a man (according to some book that “came out” last year). I commend her for trying to look tough and seem less feminine, but she is still a little too much woman for this to work now. So I say to everyone – be patient. One of these days there will be a woman who is man enough to be president.

And other stories from NBA All Star Weekend

I am convinced that professional sports need to get rid of All Star Games. Here is why:

1) Major League Baseball Tried to “Make it Count” by having the winner of the All Star game win home field advantage for their league in the World Series. The one problem with that is only a few players will care. The Kansas City Royal and Pittsburgh Pirate All Stars, who have never even heard of the playoffs, are not going to care who gets home field advantage. And then all it does is potentially screw over the better team in the World Series with something they may have only had little control over at best. It is sort of like having people in Ohio and Florida select who is going to elect the president for the enlightened part of the country.

2) No one watches your sport to begin with. See Major League Soccer and that other league with hockey.

3) It is hard to have an all star game when the goal of the sport is decapitation. The NFL “Pro Bowl” happens after the season so right away you know no one gives a sh-t. Also, it is hard to play football in a jovial manner making the game weird where either players look like they are trying too hard and are as-holes or they don’t try at all and they look like Condi Rice’s orthodontist.

4) The Games suck. This is where the NBA comes in. Basketball is my favorite sport and thanks to the Utah Jazz resurgence, I now have a rekindled interest in the pro game. However, the NBA all star game is atrocious. Any game where Shaq makes out with Tracy McGrady during a play is stupid. Besides, haven’t they learned their lesson from Magic Johnson playing grab ass with Isiah Thomas all those years back? And the fact that it took place in Las Vegas even heightened its worthlessness (although I’m sure there was plenty of off the court fun).

Sidenote: If you are a tall and athletic man and were in Las Vegas this weekend you probably hooked up with a woman who is your superior in looks (albeit there is a good chance that said looks were artificial). This is because she probably thought you were an NBA All Star or player (I have friends who can attest to the lack of the common woman’s knowledge of the NBA, but not their lack of awe of it – like those dollar signs flashing in the eyes of a Looney Tunes cartoon). If she had taken the time to do the math she might have realized that there are not thousands of NBA players, but she probably realized it when you got on to your Southwest flight the next morning.

Back to the All Star Game: The games almost always turn into blow outs because by the time both teams pretend to care, one team is up 30.

What’s more the skills competitions suck. The dunk contest used to be littered with stars. Now it is more like an obscure freak show. And the 3 point contest is the official competition for NBA losers. Steve Kerr, Craig Hodges, Tim Legler, Jason Kapono. Who the f–k are these guys?

So instead I spent the night of the all star game watching Little Miss Sunshine. It is about a family going to a meaningless competition in the middle of the desert with a bunch of girls who are dressed like sluts and are acting far older than they are.

A date is not just a date when Hallmark is involved

So yesterday, thanks to the snow and my inconvenient job I was running late to dinner. Normally this is not a problem. You just call and say, “I can’t catch a cab because of the weather or because someone told the cabbie that I am half black. Either way I will be a little late.”

But something happens when Hallmark Cards wants to make a lot of money. A date becomes more than just a date. It is the one date day where par for the course is the best you can do. It’s supposed to be perfect and nice, etc. Any slip up and you are ruining Valentine’s Day. Instead of every kiss beginning with shots of tequila, it must begin with “K(ay).” Instead of flowers arriving on time and being the fault of the underpaid immigrant laborer who has never seen snow, it is the result of poor planning and lack of caring. Aside from New Year’s, Valentines Day is consistently my worst holiday. Followed shortly thereafter by Flag Day.

Well last night after arriving late I was determined to make it a good one. Then I got a phone call.

Me: Oh God, it’s my house. What do they want?

House (voiced by Mom): Did you lose your wallet?

Me (patting my blazer): It would appear so. That’s funny because I just paid for a cab outside the restaurant.

House: Some woman named Tess just called me and said she had your wallet. She found it in the street and is sitting in the restaurant. Here’s her number.

Me: Thanks. I’ll call her.

House (thoughts only): My son is a fu-king moron.

So I call Tess and she in fact is in the restaurant with my wallet. She returns it and I have our waitress buy her and her husband two drinks. I should have specified that they were to only get soft drinks or tap water.

So a disaster was averted for the second time in a week (my lost coat and my lost wallet).

What made the story even more bizarre and potentially would have had me washing dishes all night was the fact that my Valentine had lost her wallet earlier that day (also recovered but not in her possession).

At the moment I realized that I could hear my Mom saying to herself: Sounds like a match made in As-hole Heaven.

Which is exactly what she said to me 15 minutes ago on the phone.