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Well, I feel like it has been a little while since I discussed movies in depth, so here is my Summer mid-term report card for movies:

(note: I have not yet seen Pirates of the Caribbean)

The best movie of the summer has been Cars. Larry the Cable Guy is very funny (talk about being cast against type). Another example of Pixar doing its thing. Note on this film however, if you go see it by yourself and you are a grown ass man, families will look at you hesitantly for a minute before enjoying the family humor.

Click with Adam Sandler – possibly the worst Adam Sandler comedy. Like Bruce Almighty with many fewer laughs. And can Christopher Walken stop playing Christopher Walken? His impression of himself is starting to border on Woody Allen. That said, as Adam Sandler gets older he tends to get better looking, i.e. looking more like yours truly.

Superman – eh. Decent film, but too long. normally when I see, what appears to be a cool movie, is 2 1/2 hours I get excited because I enjoy action/adventure epics. In the case of this film – awful overkill. Great Spider Man 3 preview however. Alternate title for Superman: Deadbeat Dad That Can Fly.

An Inconvenient Truth – Scariest Movie Ever (see blog archive)

Nacho Libre – Jack Black is hysterical, but this movie is no School of Rock. But what is.

Poseidon – induces suicidal thoughts (blog archive)

X-Men 3 – worst X Men, but one of the better films in this awful summer

So – as the title suggests only 2 movies can save the summer. And they are not Little Man and the Ant Bully. Nor is M Night Shamalamadingdong’s new film (for the record he makes cool movies, but Unbreakable is the only one I thought was truly awesome and that includes The Sixth Sense.

No, the two films are Miami Vice and Talladega Nights. Miami Vice is simple – Michael Mann. I do not like Colin Farrell and Jaime Foxx (although Ray and In Living Color are quality works). But Miachel Mann, with the exception of Ali is great. Heat, The Insider, The Last of the Mohicans, Collateral. This movie needs to be great because nothing else this summer with real people has been.

The second movie is Will Ferrell’s Talladega Nights. Mocking NASCAR is always welcome. And I have the feeling that it will not require repeated viewings, like Anchorman, to appreciate it. It looks like instant hilarity. If either of these films is less than an A, this will be the worst summer of films in my life.

However, tv has been alright thanks to Deadwood. If anyone saw this week’s episode a gruesome scene on par with Captain Aceveda’s humbling experience on Season 3 of The Shield occurred. I am still having nightmares of Dan Doherty.

Tonight I am hosting at the NY Comedy Club at 8:30. (24th and 2nd). Should be fun times.

So yesterday, on a beautiful July afternoon I went to a Staten Island Yankees game. Funny enough premise. I wish I had had my camera for many hilarious photos, but alas you will just have to take my word for it. Quick question: What do the film Goodfellas and Staten Island have in common? As Karen Hill (Lorraine Bracco) put it, “I felt like everyone was name Petie or Paulie and every woman was named Marie.”

So as it turns out my party and I were sitting next to the extended family of the visiting pitcher named “CARL,” or at least that is what they kept shouting at him.

At a minor league baseball game everything is sponsored. The outfield wall is a series of advertisements, there are ads on the field and every time any sort of play happens it is sponsored by someone (for the record, for every stolen base by the SI Yankees, Verizon will donate $15 (not a misprint) to some unknown, unheard of fund. That is the equivalent of me donating a ball of lint for every reader of my blog. At last check, Verizon was shelling out a cool $30 for yesterday’s game. Slow Down Yanks – you’re going to bankrupt Verizon. And if you are ever in Staten Island do not get your car fixed at Fix-A-Dent because they have the worst advertisement I have ever heard.

And yesterday was Japanese day at the park (yes it was still Italian day, but there were some Japanese themed things). Minor League teams need to have theme days to continue to attract fans – nothing wrong with that, but with stadium announcing for three innings done in Japanese – it tends to annoy the Lou Dobbs in me. Oh, and the Yanks were playing the Vermont Lake Monsters – because everyone knows that there are a sh–load of Lake Monsters in Vermont.

Then I had a discussion with my uncle about where the team groupies hung out. I said that I wasn’t sure, but I heard Applebee’s got pretty crazy after games. But there were some groupie looking chicks scattered throughout the stadium. I hate to be a jerk, but ladies I think you have a better chance of winning the actual lottery, then landing this metaphorical lottery of bedding the next Derek Jeter. I have actually been told by a friend who played minor league baseball that stuff got much cooler at the AA level, whereas A was not that cool. I can see that.

Then we get to the contests. Every half inning included fan friendly entertainment, including a baby race between Anthony and Anthony (the announcer had to be corrected because the names are actually pronounced Ant-ny). I left the game after 7 innings because I had been there 2 1/2 hours and the game was moving slower than Stephen Hawking in a potato sack race.

And besides I had to leave to perform in a comedy show at a bar in Manhattan. Well, I realized that for all my criticisms of The SI yanks; I was their comedic equivalent. Here are some examples:

1) Although I have the same title as Jerry Seinfeld and Chris Rock – they are like the NY Comedians, whereas I am a Staten Island comedian (although from the Bronx).

2) The show was cancelled and I waited 40 minutes at the venue before finding this out. And I knew somewhere in Staten Island an Applebee’s after party was cancelled as well.

3) Very few people give a flying f–k unless you make the big show. Carl’s family was nice to show up, the same way I have a select group of loyalists that come to shows and I say thank you. But for the most part, who gives? Carl has an 89 mph fastball – I have a good Owen Wilson impression. Same thing basically.

4) I think that I may be violating Omerta just by talking about what happened at a Staten Island Yankees game.

On the 4th of July I was taught that valuable American lesson: Don’t Trust Anyone.

I was working on the 4th, and to protect the identity of my employer let’s just say I was dealing with victims of crimes. I had hung my suit jacket on a chair because it was very warm, but I only did so for about 20 minutes because then the AC was very strong. 20 minutes surrounded by other lawyers helping victims of crimes, a few crime victims and a few police officers. That was who was in the vicinity of my jacket. These are important details. For the rest of the day my jacket was in my possession. On my back.

So fast forward about 10 hours. I am on my way to see Cars by myself on 84th and Broadway because that is what someone who hates fireworks and heat (not the movie) does. So I go to see Cars and I pull out my Visa credit card to pay for the movie ticket and I discover that my Amex card is missing.

I call my Mom and ask her to call Amex to cancel my card. She does so and before the Pixar magic starts she calls me back to tell me that Amex says there have been purchases made at Saks (or something phonetically like that) around 1 pm on the 4th of July.

In usual Suspects style – let’s piece this together. My jacket was off of my back from approx 8:30-9:00 am. Purchases were made around 1 pm that same day. That means that most likely a crime victim or someone working in law enforcement decided to steal my credit card on the 4th of July.

This ranks right up there with the asshole who would steal my newspaper in Washington DC from my front doorstep. In both cases I think it is beneficial to all parties that the culprits not be caught because in both cases my response would probably be disproportionate: like dropping a nuke on Ghana for beating the US in the World Cup.

But the real problem is that the workplace is often not a safe place for stuff – shit just seems to disappear. But when you work in law enforcement it is doubly disturbing to find out that your stuff is not safe.

On a lighter note – Cars was great. Pixar does it again. The last time I had something stolen from my wallet was the same day I went to see Munich, another great movie. So if you want to enjoy a movie but hate human beings – lose your wallet and go see a midnight show of Superman.

So as part of my “second half of New Year’s Resolution” I have been going to the gym more and doing more running. So after work yesterday (3 cheers for working on Saturdays) I went to New York Sports Club to work on my Ron Burgandy guns (“It’s boring, but it’s part of my life. Watch out, they’ll get ya.”). And like a NYC subway ride, the gym would be an interesting experience.

I was going to grab a 95 lb. dumbell to do a tricep exercise that involves a vein popping out in my forehead, but to get said dumbell I ha to cross in front of a 50-something year old man who was doing some shoulder presses. And as I passed in front of him (we were 2 of 3 people in the weight room at the time) he said quietly, but very clearly, “Get the f–k out of here.” I then stared at him the way a (fully) black man would stare at a crazy white guy who was dropping the N-word. “I am offended and want to fight, but also a little nervous because this guy must be out of his mind or looking for a fight to say something like that.” I acted like nothing had happened, but when I returned the weight he said it again! So this time in my most unconfrontational voice I asked, “Sorry, did you say something?” To which he replied, “ME? No.” And then 15 seconds later he muttered what sound like, “I need my gun (I don’t think he meant guns like mine). But then 2 minutes later, he asked me, “What question did you ask me?”

This blog entry is just basically a plea to NYSC to do some background checks on their members to make sure they are not out of their minds. Even the two trainers (some Eastern European power-lifting type dude and some southern Amazonian lady) agreed with me. I often wonder how the homeless guy on the street who talks to himself got started down that path. Evidently it begins with a passport membership to New York Sports Club.

Then on my train ride home I had the pleasure of sitting next to 3 girls who the only thing more offensive than their bellies hanging out of their shirts was the volume at which they were playing their reggaeton on their radio. I actually was able to envision myself taking their radio and smashing it to the ground like some bi-racial sequel to the Michael Douglas’ movie Falling Down. And then they sang along to it which was a pleasure – just think Rosie Perez with nails on a chalkboard and a bass line. And then I found myself muttering something to the effect of, “Get the F–k out of here with that.” And it was at that moment that I realized that we all have a little crazy New York Sports Club-guy in us.

I am back for more 9/10/06

I got some good news yesterday. I have been invited back for the Boston Comedy Festival in September. Last year I had a strong showing and am looking to improve this year. Sort of like how in Major League II, they advacnce further in the Playoffs than in the first film.

I wish I had more funny stuff to write today, but work is very busy. After all I am very big and it takes a lot to suck the life out of me.

And don’t wish me a Happy 4th. I am working the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th. Independence Day indeed.

“I haven’t read your blog in two weeks.” – J-L Cauvin’s mother

I think my intro line says it all. That said, I will just provide some random observations I have made over the last week:

-Nickleback is this decade’s answer to Collective Soul. A corny rock group who will have a good greatest hits album because they will come out with 8 albums each with one good song and a bunch of crap.

-Cornell alumni are not welcome at my shows unless they shut the f–k up. Last night at the Village Lantern (a great show put on by Colin Kane in the West Village area on Saturdays), a group of female Class of 2006 Cornell grads were there and did not shut up during the show. I said that I would get through my material, but finally I said to them:

“You know ladies. I wish this club was Deadwood. You know why? Because then you would be whores and I could be Al Swearenjen. I guess that would make Colin Kane Cy Tolliver.” I do not think they got my reference.

So if you go to a show it is cool to talk to the comic once or twice, but talking for 90 minutes straight through every comic is not cool.

But the worst part is when I heard my own Mother was not reading my blog. That is what is known as “rock bottom” in the entertainment industry.

So entering the second half of 2006 I will double up my efforts to deliver great comedy product to all 0 of my fans. Let’s do it!

Oh, and with 30+ sales, my album officially went platinum in Haiti.

So last night I went out with a few friends of mine to a new spot on 29th and 3rd call Tonic East. We were out to watch Game 6 of the NBA Finals, but we were in store for much more. Present in my party were a college teammate of mine (also 6’7″), known hereafter as “Zimbabwe,” a friend of ours from college who works for G-Unit records (“G-Unit”), an aspiring singer who accompanied him who bore a shocking resemblance to Beyonce (so much so that I was told that some people on the subway to the bar asked) (“Lil’ Beyonce”) and my nameless high school friend (“____”).

As the game entered the second quarter Michael Strahan from the NY Giants entered the bar. He entered to lots of stares with a small entourage and a nice looking lady friend. He was standing for quite some time right next to me and my college teammate and I witnessed a few strange things.

For one I am bigger than Michael Strahan. This was disturbing for “______” because Strahan appears larger than life on tv and is a sick athlete, but to see me on a diet of height, donuts and weights appear bigger was quite sad for him.

Secondly, women kept scoping out me and Zimbabwe. This may seem like arrogance on my part, but alas it is not because it had nothing to do with me. Women really do like money and fame. And we were close enough to Strahan, while resembling like we might actually be football or basketball players that I could actually see one or two women calculating potential paternity payments into their financial plans for 2007.

The third thing I noticed is that Dwayne Wade pisses me off. I hated Michael Jordan because he got all the calls but he had earned them from years of spectacular dominance. DW is in his 3rd year and the call that they made with about 20 seconds left on Dirk Nowitzki was atrocious. Sorry to break story, but Dwayne Wade should not be getting calls like that so early in his career (or ever).

After leaving the bar I was offered a job to bounce at the bar on weekends, but it will probably not be possible due to my incredibly sensitive, top secret day job.

I was then convinced by my friends to go to a bar where there were some college friends of ours and a karaoke thing. Zimbabwe got up and gave perhaps the worst performance of What’s Going On in recorded time (which served him right for trying to sign me up to make it a duet).

When I woke up this morning I saw on page 3 of the NY Daily News that Strahan’s wife is saying that he had an affair with another man. I was appalled at that allegation. I mean, he didn’t even offer to buy me a drink. Well I guess it is hard to impress a real celebrity with fake celebrity.

I had an interesting Saturday. It started out by going to the high school near my day job (top secret) to receive a mentor of the year award. Several of my teammates and opponents from my work basketball league protested my receiving the award because of my shameful conduct (4 technical fouls in an 8 game season – none for dunking). However, just like Ty Cobb’s racism and OJ’s murdering, the mentor award committee said that my conduct off of the mentoring field are not factors in determining who is eligible for the award.

But seriously I was one of 4 mentors of the year and it was a very nice honor. However, they told us to dress casually so because the weatherman said it would be 90 so I went in shorts and sneakers. Every other mentor was wearing a tie and jacket so, which is commonly known as “selling J-L out.” So after the celebration (it was not just about me – the school had a bunch of other functions, including a tribute to the Tuskegee Airmen, who were at the school). After that I met some of my mentee’s family, wished him luck on his science regent’s exam and then made my next stop to serve the community: off to a detective’s house for beers and BBQ.

My detective friend lives on the edge of the Bronx, literally. His house is the last house on the last block and then there is a huge field of untamed land. I was very tempted to slaughter all the people on that land and claim it for my heirs. Instead I just had some Coors light.

Note I did not bring my mentee to this event because high school kids should not drink Coors light.

I then left the party to go home and shower for an 8 pm show. The show was located in a studio above the Laugh Factory in Times Square (for credit purposes let’s just say I performed at the Laugh Factory). It really looked like the kind of place where some sleazy guy says, “Hey hot lady. You wanna come up to my studio. I photograph models.” And when she gets up there, cautionary tales ensue.

I got up to studio 315 and a large man with dreds greeted me. I sat down and prepared my set. The room was clearly used for model shots, but had been set up in a small theater-like ambiance.

When the show finally started there was a whopping total of 12 people, including comics. It was such a small room and such a small crowd that I had to forsake my trademark height and sit so as not to intimidate anyone.

And this is why comedy is very unpredictable. I had a great time. I did a nice 11-12 minute set and had a lot of fun. Sometimes 10 enthusiastic people are as much fun as a packed club. And I worked a new bit (on dentists) into much better shape and added a potentially devastating compliment to my Owen Wilson bit as Joseph (Vince Vaughn as Joseph’s friend explaining why it is not so bad that Mary’s kid is not his). And the best part is that someone in the audience bought my CD. I am thinking of planting someone at each of my shows from now on to buy a CD – sort of like the guy who wins at 3 Card Monty to draw others in.

Then I met my friend (who shall remain nameless because he has terrible fright of any potential public career being smeared by an association with this website) at bar XII on 34th and 3rd. I have never felt older in my life. We looked around and realized that at 27 and 26, years of age we were practically the “old dudes” at a bar. Very sad indeed. I then went and had my customary drunk snack – 3 donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts. And although intoxicated, I can still think to myself – “Tomorrow I am going start getting into shape.” And on Sunday I did – I had a good lift, accentuated by the drunken dehydration, which makes you look cut up before a day later when you just look out of shape. And then I followed it up with a healthy dinner of burger and fries with my Dad for Father’s Day. Community Hero. Comedian. Family Man. All in a weekend for me.

Well, finally Itunes wised up and added Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie. I checked in a few times over the last couple of weeks and it was missing. Obviously, Shakira thought that she could hold the music listening audience hostage to buy her whole new album. But it did not work and I say thank you Itunes. No longer do I have to be embarassed when people on the train see me listening to Color Me Badd’s All 4 Love or LFO’s Girl on TV. But there is a bit of a problem.

Without the video of Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie the song is not quite as good. The song is a pretty enjoyable summer tune, but without the video it is like Colin Farrell and amorality. Without the latter, the former is just not as fascinating. I quickly learned my lesson though. When pondering whether or not to order the Pussycat Dolls’ Buttons off of Itunes I realized that I would not have the video either. And that was a wise observation because that song actually flat out sucks.

I also am sort of angry at my Ipod. I bought, a year and a half ago, the 40GB version, which holds 10,000 songs. I have a large CD collection and I thought that I would at least exceed 5,000 songs right away. As of today I am at approximately 3,2000 songs. If you can fill up a 40GB or 60GB Ipod you should be tortured by Kevin Spacey for the sins of greed and gluttony. Secondly, with a dial up e-mail account Itunes are like the county store 25 miles away in the year 1880. Every few months I have the time to stock up. It took me like 15 minutes to load up Hips Don’t Lie. I have slated the week of June 26th to load my next song on to my Ipod.

But the greatest thing will happen to Itunes next month, when my CD is available on Itunes. That’s all for today.

This weekend I headed to the Purple Valley (aka Williamstown, Mass.) for my 5 year reunion. 5 year reunions are interesting for college because they are not far enough for anyone to be really different from college. Many of us were either just out of grad school or in grad school. So that said, the weekend consisted of intravenous beer consumption and determining which girls had acquired eating disorders, who had lost the most hair and who you still hated.

It was nice catching up, but my mind was elsewhere for much of the weekend because Sunday at 9 pm was the premiere of Deadwood. Fortunately one of my friends from college was almost as equally obsessed and willing to trade quotes and vulgarities. And another friend of mine who has grown an incredibly thick and neat beard bore a slight resemblance to Silas Adams (a bit character on Deadwood).

So after beer for 48 hours and awkward re-introductions (which made less and less awkward by beer) it was back to NYC to the friendly confines of the Bronx for Deadwood, which bears an interesting resemblance to the Bronx, but with much more flowery vocabulary.

And my review for the season premier is A-. It would have been an A, but I wanted more Powers Boothe scenes. The only show that is better on tv right now is The Wire. People who would raise Lost, The Shield, 24 or CSI as better are stupid. CSI is just not good. The Shield was good, but the novelty of cops who murder other cops and wear tight t-shirts despite being built like 68 year old grandmothers is over. 24 is a good show, especially given the constraints of network tv, but is simply lacks the attention to detail and the overall quality of acting of most HBO shows. As for Lost – I thought season 1 was a B/B+ and I have been told by bigger fans than me that this season is without question worse than last season.

I then watched Entourage which was quite solid and then I watched Tourgasm. It goes without saying that I feel there was not enough Gulman in the show and way too much of Jay Davis. I swear I could hear Tom Hanks screaming, “THERE’S NO CRYING ON TOURGASM!”