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My comedy career began officially in June 2003 when I stepped on stage at the Takoma Station Tavern in Washington D.C. for their Monday open mic.  However, my comedy career really began in 1991 when my impression of Jean-Claude Van Damme in the movie Double Impact made me a big hit with my friends (quick synopsis of the film – Van Damme played twins separated at birth, with”such different personalities” as JCVD put it in a behind the scenes interview, but who both learned karate).

Van Damme was my favorite movie star from the years 1990-1995 (from when I saw Bloodsport until Timecop and all the films in between).  His films were mild successes, but he basically became a joke like many action stars not named Governor Schwarzenegger.  It was not until this Fall that he was able to intentionally and intelligently capitalize on his status with a funny, but moderately moving film (“JCVD”).

Well today I hope there is a 6th grader entertaining  his classmates with a Jason Statham impression.  This guy has literally taken the career of Jean-Claude Van Damme.  I have wondered (on this site, and verbally) how Statham has sustained his career.  Then I saw a preview for Crank 2 and was intrigued.  It looked ridiculous, but entertaining.  But that still did not explain Statham’s 2 franchises (3 Transporters and counting, plus 2 Cranks) and other flops (some movie about prisoners in car races, some dumb movie where he plays some ancient knight), especially since he had to have spent all his Italian Job money by now, so he can be financing his own projects.  In addition to that my old boss at the Bronx DA’s office had recommended Crank to me.

My old boss had a bad history recommending films to me.  One was The Boondock Saints, which I absolutely hated.  The other one was Norbit (I was in Columbus, Ohio with 7 hours to kill before a show – I would have been better off cleaning the Mall toilets with my tongue than watching that movie).  So when he told me Crank was good I greeted it with a roll of the eyes.

But last week I watched Crank and found it entertaining.  It is somewhere between action and parody and was entertaining enough for me to venture to Crank 2 today (and I had a free ticket to the theater).

I must say – reallly enjoyable movie.   Had me laughing a lot because the film has moved even closer to parody and if you want to go, not to watch film or even a technically “good” movie, but just to have fun, then see this movie.

Although the similarities between Van Damme and Statham are even more evident after Crank 2 (Statham has 4-5 references to his character’s large penis in the 2 Cranks and Van Damme has a reference in no less than 3 of his films to his character’s large member – see “The Idiot From Brussels” track on Racial Chameleon, my first CD).  But Statham’s films have not been as successful as even the moderate-to-low bar that Van Damme’s career set.  So the question must be asked:  Why does Jason Statham still have a thriving film career?  One answer is that Lion’s Gate films appear to be willing to produce any film.  But I think the answer is that Statham has decided (possibly) to do what it took JCVD almost 20 years to do – realize that the pure action star is almost dead as a serious franchise (the Arnolds, Stallones, etc. are sort of done), so he pre-empted the trend and made the joke his own, while still having some of the classic action features.  I don’t know if he will make many more movies, but I am pretty sure I would be in for a good laugh if Crank 3 comes out.

Going to keep this brief as I soak up some Sun after a stressful, but successful week in the world of struggling comedy.

Monday, as I wrote, I had an audition at Zanies in Chicago.  It went well and like all things in comedy that go well, I have no idea if I will ever work at the club.  I will keep my calendar posted if I get any news on that.

Tuesday was an audition at Gotham Comedy Club and I got some great feedback, from the person evaluating me, a former SNL star who did a guest spot, and from a potential groupie.

Finesse Mitchell (former SNL star) came up to me after my set and said, “I enjoyed that.”  That was nice that he came and told me that, but what I really enjoyed was watching the tape of the performance the next day and hearing his distinctive laugh over the crowd at the joke that can be summed up by one name, “Kobe.”

I was also approached by a girl after the show who I took for a fan of my comedy until she had a friend slip me her number as they were leaving.  Numerous problems with this.

• I am spoken for.
• In addition to her phone number she wrote: “Colombian and Puerto Rican”, “Thick and sexy”, and “volupcious” – which I believe is either a mispelling of voluptuous or how one velociraptor describes another velociraptor that it finds attractive.

I wanted to save the number and post in a comedy book, the way diners, barber shops and other small businesses post their first few dollar bills that they ever made, but I decided against it.

Wednesday was my audition for Live at Gotham (Comedy Central Show).  It was the third time I have auditioned for the show.  This was by far my best set of the three.  Even if I don’t get it I am actually really proud of the set I had.  So in a young career that has been marked by choking at numerous auditions it was good to go 3 for 3, even if I don’t see a dime (but I hope that’s not the case).

And if the week needed any more good news Matt Geraud was saved by Simon Cowell last night.  Even if he does not win (which unless Adam Lambert blows Simon Cowell on a live broadcast, he won’t) it is awesome to see a guy who is so un-Hollywood doing well on the show.

Unless there is big news to report I probably won’t write much until the eve of my 30th birthday (next Friday if you want to do any shopping).

Last night I performed at Zanies in Chicago in the hopes of getting “passed” as a feature act.  I think the set went well and I am grateful to all my friends and friends of friends that showed up last night.

Before the show I was relaxed and ready to rock.  And then the manager of Zanies gave a pre-show pep talk to all of the comics.   It was actually a very thoughtful and helpful talk, although it raised the tension of the room to the point that the room full of comics appeared like the group of men sitting around in The Untouchables as Robert DeNiro delivered the baseball speech.

As the speech went on a New York comic that I know showed up a few minutes late.  And doing the verbal equivalent of bashing his head with a baseball bat the comic was denied the opportunity to go on stage (after flying in to Chi-town presumably).  Just when I thought this business was harsh – ouch.  If that had been me I would probably be in a Cook County jail awaiting arraignment on various property damage charges.  To the comic’s credit he was very composed and for one obvious reason.  A club won’t remember if you are nice, but they will definitely remember you if you lose your sh*t.

Well, I am glad I had a good set, but hope I don’t end up shot dead in an elevator.

If you participate in this please kill yourself.

As background I first urge you to read the following article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/09/fashion/09fitness.html?_r=1

I consider myself a pretty mainstream cynic.  I don’t like sushi and think people embrace the idea of sushi as much or more than they do the actual taste of raw fish.  Yoga is another one of these things – I think it can probably be relaxing for all those “spiritual” people who pay there $100 per month to go to their studio and pretend that they are not  daughters and wives of captains of capitalist industry, but rather, are at one with some sort of spiritual existence they don’t really believe in (although that sweaty yoga seems to be a pretty good workout – with more focus on sweating than getting in touch with breathing and oneness).  Wine bars seem to spring up more than pubs now.   The list goes on and on.  This facade of refined and spiritual existence seemed to be maxed out and then I saw the above linked article in today’s New York Times.

Close to two years ago I was doing some interviews at a job fair for the Bronx District Attorney’s Office.  One woman, who had the looks and demeanor of an aspiring actress (she had been in LA for 6 or 7  years in between undergrad and law school so I am guessing that was actually the case), had highlighted on her resume that she had started the first Dog Yoga class in LA.  I held in my laughter and thought “Only in LA.”  LALA land is supposed to be the place where shallow souls try to find some deeper meaning in celebrity culture.  Everyone is spiritual.  Religion would condemn a lot of the behavior, whereas atheism is the province of intellectuals and cynics so LA dwellers are left with the vague, guilt and thought free distinction of “spiritual.”  They manage to find meaning in nothing and everything simultaneously.  I am not sayng that there cannot be genuinely spiritual people (you know, like Scott Stapp of Creed), but I feel like it is a vapid cop out for a lot of people.   But even accepting all these things as realities, Dog Yoga seemed a little much.

But then today I saw that America’s overzealous love of dogs has finally combined with its search for spiritual bliss in the form of DOGA (you guessed it – dog + yoga).  From Seattle to Manhattan and everywhere in between where pretentiousness lurks these classes have sprung up.  If ever Michael Vick’s non-football skills were needed it is here, but instead of drowning the dogs I would like him and his boys to drown the owners of these dogs.

This is like the perfect storm of unhealthy American obsessions.  I feel like too many people treat their dogs like people – not by talking to them and caring for them – that is ok.  I am writing about people who say “excuse us” when they are walking with their dog.  It’s a fu-king animal.  You are the only person here that requires excusing.  Or people who brag about their dog being selected as valedictorian of their dog training class.  Get a fu-king life.  It’s ok if you do not want or cannot have kids, but dogs were not meant as God’s substitute for children.  Combine that increasing trend (I feel like I see at least as many dogs as I do children in my neighborhood) with our increasing desire to somehow absorb all the chic-ness of Asian culture while still maintaining our selfish American instincts.  The new philosophy seems to be “Give me Asian culture’s freedom from dogmatic religion coupled with their interesting food, stretching techniques and humming exercises, but without all their dedication to family (because rather than eat my dog I will treat it as a full-fledged human family member) and community and placing the whole above the self because that just wouldn’t be me.  And then let my dog do the same.”

Well it is time for me to go lift some weights and eat some cooked salmon.  How provincial of me.

Namaste or  Woof! (for all my dog readers).

If you do not watch American Idol because you never thought to, you should watch this season.  If you are someone (probably a guy) who defiantly shouts, “I don’t watch that gay sh*t,” then I urge you to change your mind because I used to think the same think, minus the homophobic sentiments.  If you are like a few people I know who have not watched since Clay Aiken got robbed by Ruben Studdard – the time to get over it now.  I was upset about Al Gore getting robbed of the presidency and if I could get over that I think you can move on as well.

This season is phenomenal.  For the record, 4 of my top 5 are still alive in the Top 8, but two people I did not have in my Top 5 I can be excused for.  Kris Allen was not featured until after the Top 36 had been picked and not before.  And Adam Lambert I genuinely thought was too Broadway for the show.  But since then he has been a ridiculous show stopper every show.

But my favorite thing about Adam Lambert, other than a voice that somehow has both Steve Perry and almost early 1990s Mariah Carey range, is his Dad.  His Dad clearly is still sort of coming to grips with his son’s homosexuality.  They have interviewed Adam’s parents several times and Mr. Lambert has yet to make eye contact with the camera.   Sort of like how Derek Zoolander’s father was upset about Derek playing a Mermaid in a television commercial.  MERMAN!!!!!

The best, however, was last night when Adam’s mother said, “Adam was interested in everything as a kid – music, reading-” And then Mr. Lambert chimed in – “Not so much sports.”  Unbelievably classic television.

Oh and if anyone is wondering if Adam is gay:

Exhibit A: He said that Randy Travis was a “total gentleman” during their rehearsal.  What guy refers to another guy as a gentleman when a truck stop or spooning is not involved?

Exhibit B:

But the fact that this kid is other-worldly talented is undeniable.  There were rumors that when Clay Aiken was in his glass closet (everyone could see through it) American Idol did not want him to win so they jammed phone lines to prevent him from winning.  Maybe this is true, maybe it is not, but it is undeniable that when male artists come out officially (George Michael and Clay Aiken come to mind) they seem to lose the status they once had as closeted or ambiguous.  Even Elton John had to keep up a charade of ambiguity for many years.  So although it should not have to take someone as exceptional as Adam Lambert to become the Jackie Robinson of karaoke competition shows it looks good that Idol will not be able to stop his climb to the top.  Although I had liked Danny Gokey (powerful-voiced widower) or Matt Geraud (soulful white guy with less beauty, but more singing chops than Justin Timberlake) to win, Lambert’s showmanship (go figure) and vocal range are going to steamroll the competition.  You should watch if you are not before he comes out officially and the music biz (and American public) ship him off to the fringe.

2009 trumps 2001 because winning $400 in a pool beats 1 dunk and lots of benchwarming.

Last night I got that rare win that a sports gambler can hope for – a winning result for my favorite team and for my gambling.  I was in a tie with a fellow Hoya Lawya for 2nd place in a pool of slightly over 100 people.  We both had UNC beating Michigan State (always bet on Izzo, Calhoun and Lute Olson (when he’s healthy/coaching) in the Finals.  However I had a total score of 152 and my other 2nd place finisher had 132.  Well thankfully UNC and Michigan State scored well over a combined 152 to give me 2nd place.  And I am a UNC fan so it’s a double win.  And Duke fans are probably upset so it’s like a triple win.

And it assuages the gross feeling from the Yankees amazing debut yesterday.  CC Sabathia is my size if I never stopped eating donuts.  I don’t mean stopped as in – I am on a diet so no more donuts.  I mean literally a conveyor belt shoving donuts into my mouth 24-7. That is how big this guy is.

Now tonight there is the women’s college hoops final, but if I want to watch a woman give a brilliant performance I will watch Adam Lambert on American Idol.  And if I want to watch a tall woman give a mediocre performance I will watch Fringe.  But I don’t think I can watch the women’s hoops finals.  UConn is expected to roll, and that is great for the dudes on that team, but what I am tired of is how women’s basketball gets inserted into conversations of dominance with men’s teams ( your sport needs more than a decade of Title IX/NBA subsidized success before you can discuss the historical dominance of a team).  I read somewhere that there is an unfriendly rivalry between Geno Auriemma and Jim Calhoun, the women’s and men’s UConn coaches, respectively.  Rivalry?  Maybe in that Malone-Stone (Sean Connery and Andy Garcia) Irish-Italian rivalry in The Untouchables, but in terms of basketball?  I would think it would be settled when Jim Calhoun says, “Wow, you have five titles!  That’s great – I coach men.”

A stimulus package the Jersey Shore can believe in.

On the drive from Washington D.C. to New York yesterday I decided to see what the weekend gross for Fast and Furious was.  I knew it would be a big hit, but apparently Hollywood was “shocked” at how big a hit it was.  For some reason there are only two groups of people that overestimate the intelligence of the American people: politicians, albeit disingenuously, with the election cycle mantra of “the American people aren’t stupid” – yes they are) and Hollywood experts who are constantly “shocked” that stupid movies are successful.

On rare occasions I will see a movie based on box office success because occasionally movies that get poor reviews, but do well (e.g. Ace Ventura) are actually enjoyable, while being understandably bashed by critics (Paul Blart was my most recent mistake along this thinking – I left with 20 minutes left in the movie because I was about to stab myself in the eye).  Almost a decade ago I rented The Fast and The Furious based on the fact that it was such a hit and thought, maybe it is an enjoyable, but crappy movie.  Unfortunately it was just crappy.  It is bad when the most talented actor in the franchise’s history is a tie between Bow Wow and Ludacris.

The lead actors in both Fast and Furiouses (with and without articles) are Paul Walker and Vin Diesel.  Starting with the lesser of two evils, Paul Walker is a handsome man.  So at least he satisfies one criteria for Hollwood success.  He has the acting chops of an extra on a porn film, but at least if women want eye candy he is an understandable choice.  However, Vin Diesel is a different story.  If Obama’s rise to power represents a victory for black people and America, then Vin Diesel’s resurrection as a Hollywood star represents a victory for the Jersey Shore and a blemish on American culture.    He belongs in the Pantheon of How The Fu-k… Hollywood stars with the likes of Pauly Shore.

The sad thing is that with the economic downturn leading more and more people to theaters there will be less immediate incentive to fund quality projects when human excrement going 140 mph can make $72.5 million.   I am sure a studio is working hard at Transporter 4 (yes there have been 3 already) and Son in Law 2.

If you thought the American Pastime needed more meatpacking district influence – here’s your baseball stadium.

A couple of days ago I received an amazing investment opportunity in the mail.  If I invest the GDP of a small country I can receive some entertaining sports surrounded by all the bells and whistles of a Manhattan club delivered in the form of a product that has had diminishing returns over the last decade.  That’s right I received my Yankees prospectus a/k/a ticket information and fan guide in the mail.

Like General Motors the Yankees have cost the American taxpayer more while providing less over the last several years.  There are several problems I have which were only augmented by the mailing I received.

The Prices

The Yankees, my second favorite team in all of sports, belong up there with the executives who received bonuses from AIG.  The ticket prices are absurd – it literally feels like what a night out to a Broadway play was before Broadway had to sell out to get seats filled in the theaters.  Baseball was not supposed to be high society  – it was supposed to be a day or night for families and working class folks who could enjoy entertainment with superstars without a bank loan or a blow job being involved.  There are now six (that’s six) special tiers of tickets for which the prospectus does not even list prices.   Presumably because they are so special and elite that only people with American Express black cards can even hear the prices without going deaf.

The Bronx

The Stadium was completely unnecessary and with the economy as it is , completely irresponsible.  What’s worse is that with the hollow promises brokered by the Yankees and the city and in part by former Bronx Borough President Adolpho Carrion, the Yankees got a subsidized stadium and in the process destroyed a massive, well-attended park with no equivalent replacement in waiting.  In one of the poorest communities in America, do you think destroying a quality outlet like a park with softball/baseball/soccer fields, a track and all sorts of other amenities is a wise decision?

The other promises that are often made – pumping money into the community, a school structured for high school students interested in sports management, etc.  seem to not be panning out.  Even worse is that all the restaurants (NYY Steak, Hard Rock Cafe) will actually probably take from the local businesses that thrived with the extra customers coming in for games.  Why would a tourist try local fare when they can go to the more familiar and ethnically-cleansed Hard Rock Cafe.

I would also love to know if Bronx residents were given priority for jobs created by the stadium and all its surrounding new businesses.  The Bronx has the highest unemployment rate in the city and this could have been an opportunity to make a small dent in it (very small, but at least meaningful as a step that says the Yankees will give something back – even if it is only salaries earned).

The Stadium

This thing looks beautiful.  Plush lounges, high end suites, a sports bar in centerfield, numerous quality food retailers at the stations in the stadium are just a few of the upgrades.  Hell, there’s so much at the Stadium that if they have a store producing Latino people they could render the Bronx completely obsolete.  However, isn’t this a fu-king baseball game?

Will there be a cover charge on top of tickets and techno blaring as you enter the stadium and some giant black dude frisks you and some sleazy grown-up prep school kid asks you if you party?  The American pastime should not be so slick and corporate looking.  People used to go to baseball games for the game – but now it seems that Manhattan spirit of needing to be seen has officially immersed itself in the Bronx, even if that immersion does not spread 20 feet outside the Stadium.  Now you can say “I have tickets to the Yankees” and it can mean more than “I like baseball and the Yankees.”  Now it can mean “I like status symbols and high fives.”  It won’t be long until Yankee fans become, due to financial restrictions and character depletion, like an LA Dodgers Crowd – famous for arriving in the 3rd inning and leaving in the 7th inning.

The old stadium used to be called The House That Ruth Built.  This one seems to be destined for The Club That Douchebags Inhabit.  Or maybe in the spirit of its apparent inspiration, just call it Stadium.  Or Douche.

I have my tickets for May 18th.

Happy Birthday To It!

Like Madonna, my website is constantly changing itself to keep people interested.  I have nothing to write much today (although tomorrow I will be writing about the new Yankee Stadium – today I received an investor’s prospectus, I mean a ticket information fan guide in the mail).  So I ask readers to scroll through the archives and catch up on my three years of Internet presence.  Things you should expect:

• funny stories about the NYC subway system
• many references to movies
• self loathing
• humor
• the occasional burst of political insight

Thanks to Steve Axworthy who is the nuts and bolts behind my website, proving that it is my talent and not my tech support that is preventing me from becoming a star.   Just kidding, “I got a lot of star power” – Kenny Powers

Bon Scott said “It’s A Long Way To The Top” – Then he died and his band made it to the top with another singer.

Last night I lost in the Final Four of Caroline’s March Madness to the incredibly sharp and very deserving champ Myq Kaplan.  I think what gave me trouble sleeping last night was not the fact that I lost, but the fact that I felt like a complete nervous fu-king hack in my performance.  I wish I could give a more upbeat recap (Rich Vos crushed some idiot woman in the front who started talking during my set and did not shut up until Vos verbally undressed her for 15 minutes, Ryan Reiss had strong sets and Myq Kaplan beat him with a very strong set in the finals), but I am preoccupied.

See the jokes I did last night are some of my tried and true and they always work.  But last night they did not work as well for several reasons.  One is that I was nervous.  Give me a mic and some strangers and I can do very well.  Give me a mic, some strangers and add the word competition or contest and I freeze.

Probably for many comics, including myself, these competitions present the same opportunity that the lottery presents – an unrealistic hope that success will change, or accelerate a change in, one’s life, when all it amounts to is lost time and money for all but the winner.  I have been on television twice and it has yielded jack sh*t.  So when there is a chance to get paid work from a club and some modicum of exposure/respect it ramps up the importance, even if it is something you have done a thousand times.  But the desire to “make it” or “get a break”, no matter how small the break may be just adds a layer of nervousness for me – like how Tommy in the film Tommy Boy describes how he fu-ks up a potential deal.

Competitions are like the good cop to the bringer show’s bad cop.  See clubs will tell you it’s a business, etc., but there are comics getting work and comics not getting work that could easily switch places.  The problem for these places is once you are in, you understandably won’t go back to being out – so bumping an established regular will only lose the club a comic.  However, if you string along young comics, without telling them that years of bringers will not yield anything that years in the backs or basements of pubs won’t (more a lie of omission than commission), they will keep coming back (case in point – me).  So if you make the mistake of bumping up too many of these comics all you get is more comics who will refuse to fund “new talent nights.”  So I now reconcile my lack of courage by saying that I need to do them because I need a good tape of some new jokes – which can be true, but does not really justify whoring myself out.

But worse than choking last night was the fact that my tougher, more personal jokes I saved for the finals (in the event that I made it) because I needed the crowd to like me first (gentler jokes in the first set) before I could get into that.    This is what I am most ashamed of from last night.  I tried to be Jay Leno and tell jokes that everyone would like instead of telling the jokes that mean the most to me and can evoke the best performance from me, for fear that I would not get everyone chuckling.

I was reminded after the show last night of a show that I did last Friday.  The crowd was about 150 and the median age was about 48.  A comic named Sean Patton got up last on the show.  He did a set that was very funny, but what I appreciated even more was that his set had a very subtle “this is what I do, so fu-k you if it’s not your cup of tea”  kind of vibe because his topics and style were surely not going to make everyone in the stuffy room happy.  But his performance had no change from what it was at Rodeo Bar two days earlier in front of younger, drunker people.   He was not trying to be a different product for different audiences.  He knows what kind of comic he is (at least he certainly appears to) and did not abandon it.

My best stuff is the stuff that 75% of the room likes and 25% of the room is slightly offended by (those stats are provided by my imagination) – and I am not talking about some sort of Lisa Lampanelli parade of racial slurs – I am talking about the calling of people on their bullsh*t sort of humor or exposing horrible things from my past to get a laugh.  But instead of being me as a comic, something that has taken me a few years to figure out (and still am figuring out) I told my safe set.  So I lost and could not even leave with my pride.  It is as if the comedy gods tell me to develop my own style and be true to it, but all the opportunities that come up with a hint of potential success tempt me to go lite in the hopes of getting a leg up in the business.  Here is what I would have done differently last night if I could have it over again:

• Told the woman in the front row to shut the fu-k up.  Not as clever as Vos’ stuff, but would have felt good.
• Told my Kobe (“Great Comedic Timing”), Diamond Maker and My Private 9/11 jokes (first 2 available on iTunes, third available on rooftop comedy).

Simple changes, but would have made a huge difference – not in the result, but in my pride in my performance.  But this is a moot point because I sh*t the bed in competition.  I’m surprised I didn’t revert back to calling myself the love child of The Rock and Adam Sandler while having a conversation between Robert DeNiro and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Sorry if this seems too much like a mope fest.  The chance to perform comedy at a great venue and not be required to bring people is an opportunity I am thankful for.  And special thanks to my friends who showed up last night.  The comedy system as it is set up puts as much a strain on the friends of relatives of comics as it does the comics (the ones who show up regularly at least).  There is a balance between supporting your friends and risk hearing the same jokes over and over again versus the comic’s dilemma of trying to perfect the jokes they have while trying to perform new ones so your friends do not get bored and stop coming to the show.   One thing the bringers have shown me is who amongst my friends really supports my dream and comedy and who doesn’t.   As Batman said at the end of The Dark Knight – “sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.” Well, if there is a silver lining to taking comedy bait for all of these years it is that I can see and appreciate who amongst my people who have shown some faith in my comedy.

I think I just wish comedy was just about comedy.  Like some sort of warped John Lennon song imagine there was no YouTube, No Bringers, No Contests – just comedy.  Or maybe I just have to be more disciplined and principled with my comedy.   Checking my next few shows on my calendar are a bringer, another competition (serious reconsideration) and a couple of auditions – to quote Lloyd Bridges from Airplane, “Looks like I picked the wrong week to find principles.”