The New Yankee Stadium

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.

My Website Just Turned 3

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

Sell Out

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.”

 

The Final 4

Yesterday I was pleased to see that I have a chance at 2nd place in my pool if Michigan State can beat UConn and UNC beats Villanova.  After losing Florida St. in the first round I am glad my other 3 final four teams persevered. 

But this is about a more important Final Four.  March Comedy Madness at Caroline’s taking place tomorrow night at 9:30 pm.  When I filled out my brackets several weeks ago I had myself losing to Myq Kaplan in the Final Four.  I had it this way for a few reasons:

  1. I have addvance one round further each year (which is why I plan on coming back for my senior year of comedy next year to try and win a championship if I don’t this year).  Sweet 16 in year 1, Elite 8 in year 2, Final Four in year 3.  By that iron clad logic I should lose tomorrow.
  2. Myq Kaplan has already bested me in a competition.  Last year he advanced in Boston to the Finals while I was left on a 10 pm Amtrak back to NYC so I could litigate in the morning.  He has sharp and rapid fire delivery, which works especially well in competition settings.  I have more of a methodical, story telling style, which is the only true way to deliver bitterness and condescension.
  3. Myq is from Boston.  I am from New York City.  He has more people coming according to his Facebook invite than me according to my Facebook invite.  If he has more people to cheer for him that will be as bad as when Al Gore lost Tennessee in 2000. 

Either way tomorrow night will be a good night of comedy so come out and enjoy.  And I will throw my endorsement behind Myq if he wins because losing to “the champ” sounds a lot better than losing to “some guy.”

Will Tell Jokes For Food

The toughest part of comedy is not in telling or writing jokes, at least for me.  The toughest part I have is with the marketing/self-promotion/getting actual money for doing comedy.  For example I am in the finals of a competition at Caroline’s where if I win I get a paid weekend opening for someone.  If I finished second, third or fourth I get to go home and take out my unpaid frustration in a game of Wii Tennis.

I have also received my fair share of guest spots, which translated into layman’s terms is, “You are pretty funny, but we have no real incentive to pay you and you cannot afford to refuse an unpaid spot because you secretly believe that you will be discovered, or at least appreciated by management and/or talent scouts, who are unlikely to be watching you.”  And that is true.

So the way to make money for an up and coming comic like myself is to take the show on the road.  Unfortunately this is proving rather difficult.  Here have been some of my favorite responses that I have received personally or through someone acting on my behalf:

“Please stop with the e-mails.  We will contact YOU if we are interested.” – this was sent after an obnoxious series of two e-mails sent a week apart (one with clips and one following up a week later – how rude of me).

“What do you bring to our club and how will you increase business?”- hopefully jokes

“He should just buy a car and travel the country for two years stopping by clubs.  Is he Jewish?  No, then he’s fu-ked.  He will probably have to get used to sucking men’s di-ks.” – yes this is an actual conversation that took place (mostly tongue-in-cheek, as opposed to cock-in-cheek),  apparently Hollywood casting agents have now re-located to help run comedy clubs in the Midwest.

The best part is that two of these quotes came from what are known as “B clubs” meaning not the city’s primary venue for stand up comedy.  That is not a knock on these places, but goes to show that some of these clubs seem to have a Napoleonic complex.  And it introduces a Catch 22.  I would love to tell clubs that cannot act or respond with some decency or respect to go fu-k themselves or threaten some sort of No Country For Old Men-style cross country trip, but they do have the power and they hold the keys to what I want – a chance to tell lots of people my jokes and to get paid for it.

I’d like to think that if I ever attained star status or mega star status that I would vilify the reputations of these clubs or simply buy them and bulldoze them, a la the trailer home of Jenny at the end of Forrest Gump, but that probably won’t happen for two reasons.  I will be too busy counting Benjamins and the clubs will be too busy kissing my ass (hence the Catch 22 – I lash out now I never attain success.  I attain success – reason for lashing out abates).  But as someone who was able to maintain a healthy grudge against their high school basketball coach for over a decade (not to mention how long I will get material out of more recent slights) I think my friends can attest that if anyone can hold on to that morbid fantasy in spite of success it is me.

But in the meantime anyone know where I can get some cheap knee pads?

Einstein Was A Celebrity

And so is Paris Hilton – what is wrong with this picture?

I am finishing up a biography on Albert Einstein and have learned a few things.  One is that Einstein was a pretty shi*ty father.  He also revolutionized the way the physical world was viewed in science.  Third, he was a bona fide celebrity.  For all the ways we as a society have progressed the celebrity culture is definitely one way where we are definitely regressing. 

Even 30 years ago the names Woodward and Bernstein became famous because of their exposure of the Watergate scandal.  Now I don’t even remember the name of the New York Times’ journalist who won a Pulitzer for exposing the Bush wiretapping program – and I played basketball with the guy a few months ago.  But whether I like it or not I can tell you who Omarosa is.  Newspapers are dying and reality television is thriving. 

But the case of Einstein was particularly interesting to me.  A man who deserved legitimate fame for a theory that turned scientific law on its head and won a Nobel Prize became a household name.   What would Einstein be today? My guess last night at an open mic was maybe he’d be the boring Tuesday guest on The Daily Show.  “Next we have the author of The General Theory of Relativity – Albert Einstein.” ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (I guess to Jon Stewart’s credit – even though I find him increasingly and unbearably smug – is that he does have authors of different disciplines on his show, including scientists).

Instead we make any as-hole with a foul mouth or enlarged breasts a celebrity.  I think part of this stems from our culture, that George Carlin certainly ripped apart, where little kids for the last 20 years have been told that they are special and unique and great.  Now those coddled and delusional idiots have grown up  and in the back of their minds it’s cool to see the average as-hole become a celebrity because, unlike Einstein, they could see themselves doing the same.   Studying physics?  No thanks.  Blowing a washed up celebrity on a tour bus – now that is something everyone can do?  Blogs, YouTube and its ilk represent  challenge to traditional authority and media run amok and the backlash is that our newspapers and our values are quickly transitioning from absolute to relative to obsolete.   Our celebrities no longer have talent or objective value, our news sources are increasingly delivered in glib, opinion-soaked soundbites.  And like the frog that boils to death as temperature is increased gradually we are just accepting this.

So as a glib, opinionated comic seeking fame for telling jokes let me leave you with this piece of wisdom.  Someone not too long ago told me that my reading of the morning newspaper (in print form) and my interest in the news and more specifically, politics, was merely a product of having been raised like that (somehow this was meant to be a challenge to the objective importance of being well informed).  Well, that is how I was raised and hopefully there are still people out there that will raise their kids that way or else in ten years you may be coming to this website for both your celebrity and news fix.

March Madness Musings

As I sit here Sunday evening seeing all hopes for winning my March Madness pools go poof with Marquette’s loss (I feel bad for that guy Hayward) I am forced to reflect on all that I have seen during this weekend of hoops overdosing.

Tattoos

What the fu-k is with all the tattoos?  These college kids are covered in tattoos. Why?  I have often flirted with the idea of a tattoo, but then realizing that I was being rash and stupid re-considered since I would not be able to be buried in a Jewish cemetery if I had one.  But seriously, why are these 19 and 20 year olds covered with tattoos?  I used to think that only bikers and lesbians had the right combination of toughness and self-loathing to mutilate their bodies, but finding a basketball player without a tattoo now is like trying to find a Tyler Perry movie without black people.  I am always amazed by so many people of my generation who will tell me that people who get married in their early 20s are too young (or as my more cynical, all-knowing city friends say, “stupid”) to know that they can deal with that commitment, but see nothing wrong with an 18 year old, obviously at the most impulsive stage of life,  covering everything but his scrotum in ink.  I know it’s not the same thing, but it sure is ironic.

Obama

Stop going on television.  I like you, but I am really seeing you too much on television.  Since you are the first celebrity president you should take a lesson from celebrities and not risk overexposure.  When you are in the spotlight too much you will make a mistake, like insulting Special Olympians or blaming wars on Jews.

Fast and Furious

Only Hollywood could take 4 things that don’t work (Vin Diesel, Paul Walker, Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster) and mash them up and have a hit on their hands.  There is no doubt this movie will make a jillion dollars because people are stupid.  Even I won’t see Fast and Furious, which I assume is a description of how audience members with fully functioning brains will leave the theater.  Could any other industry get away with this?  If GM, Ford and Chrysler got together to make a car would it become a big seller or just be considered a really big piece of sh*t?

Commercials

The best commercial I saw all weekend (repeatedly) was the Jumpman commercial featuring the disgruntled father remembering his daughter’s birthday (but really remembering Texas’ loss to Syracuse in 2003).  This is the best acting I have ever seen in a commercial.  Strange compliment, but he is both creepy and funny with how dismissive he is of his daughter’s birthday.

Basketball

Oh yeah – there was hoops going on as well.  Fu-k you Florida State BIG TIME.  Smaller fu-k yous to Wake Forest and Marquette.  Time for Eastbound and Down to cheer me up, but first 60 Minutes – I wonder who is on…

OBAMAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Detroit Comedy Festival Recap

Veni, Vidi, Who Gives a Sh*t

I went to Detroit yesterday and killed (in a comedy set).  Unfortunately there were only about 50 Detroit-ers (what’s is a Detroit resident called, besides out of work – HEY O) in attendance.  It is tough competing with double-digit unemployment and St. Patrick’s Day, but the crowd was pretty good for their numbers.  And now they’ve officially seen the best Obama impression in Detroit.

After the show I did have an opportunity to witness an almost bar fight outside the club, but was just ended with a “I will kick the sh*t out of you if I see you around here again!”  I then had some Taco Bell because it was the only thing not involving a pole or crack that was open.  Once again I was amazed by the incredibly professional manner of the Midwestern fast food employee.  Seriously.  I believe the material emphasis found on the enlightened coasts makes people who work for a living at more menial jobs feel inferior and bitter, as opposed to those who do the same jobs in the middle of the country.  No scientific data here, but it happens enough to me to make me think.

I retired to my Red Roof Inn after the show, whose front desk operated behind bullet proof glass, which prompted my question – “does my door, which is close to the highway, thus facilitating an easy and quick murder/robbery for any potential felons, have bullet proof protection since I have money and valuables as well?”  Fortunately I slept without ending up like Josh Brolin in No Country For Old Men.  I got my $39.99/night money’s worth.

Tonight I get to compete in Round 2 of Comedy March Madness at Caroline’s.  Hooray

Headed to Motown

No, not San Francisco.  I’m going to Detroit.

Tomorrow I fly off to Detroit for a one night engagement at the Detroit International Comedy Festival – this is the second year they are having it, but they are not sure if they will have a third, not because the comedy is not popular, but because the city may not exist.  I have enough money in the bank to buy three averaged priced homes in Detroit and I am a severely underemployed comic.

I have already decided that I will get on stage in a black robe carrying a scythe (i.e. Grim Reaper ya dumbass), which is currently the second scariest image to the city after a free market Republican. 

I do enjoy the title of the Festival – “International Comedy Festival.”  Sort of like the way Subway declared their “$5 footlong promotion” “Famous” after about two days of commercials.  I guess it is “international” or “famous” if there is a banner saying it is.

My flight gets in about 5 hours before my show so I am tempted to go to 8 Mile and seek out a rap battle, except that I am only half-white (thus lowering my underdog status) and I went to a private school (thus eliminating any secret weapons I could drop in the finals of a rap battle).  If you have not seen 8 Mile ignore this paragraph.

I am figuring out what jokes to tell tomorrow and I am pretty sure I will spare them the sad tale of a law firm attorney who was laid off with lots of money in the bank and who is now pursuing his passion of stand up comedy.  Doesn’t really compare to “my great grandfather helped build this town, I’m 4th generation at General Motors and now my whole way of life is fu-ked.”  Compared to them, I might as well be getting a manicure and asking for a soy latte if I gripe about my employment story, which I will probably be doing, but do not need to rub it in their face.

So wish me luck and then I fly back into NYC for the 2nd Round of March Comedy Madness.  9:30 pm Wednesday at Caroline’s.

America’s Next Top Motherfuc*ing Model

I guess women shorter than 5’7″ shouldn’t model.

Mayhem broke out yesterday at an open call audition for the CW’s show “America’s Next Top Model.”  For those of you that don’t know, the show airs on the CW, the LaToya Jackson of the networks.  There was an unusually high turnout for the show because, according to producers, it was the first season only open to women 5’7″ and shorter.  The melee that ensued I guess shows what men have known and what the show’s producers have now learned – that you don’t have to be super tall, beautiful and anorexic to be a crazy bitch; they apparently come in all looks and sizes.  And what a shock that competitive women seeking an opportunity based solely on their looks would get into a fight – you’d think women of such substantive value would be able to resolve conflict peacefully.

The audition was closed after the melee broke out (numerous reports of either a gun, a fight at the front of the line, and/or a claim that a car was on fire and about to explode).  What I got a kick out of was hearing women on television and reading other quotes in the paper that “this was my lifelong dream” or “my dream is ruined.”  If the lottery is a tax on poor people, then reality shows are public assistance for stupid women.  “Your dream?”  It is a reality show.  These things have only been around for a decade so what did you dream of before then, a spot on Cops? 

And does anyone realize that 99% of these lineups are just for short clips on the show to show how many people showed up?  If this show is anything like Last Comic Sanding or American Idol, the people with a chance at the finals are in the hundreds, not the tens of thousands that show up.  In two years in NYC, one comic got to the NY finals of Last Comic Standing without a pre-booked audition.  People who had auditions in some cases were actually asked to get on line before or after their pre-booked audition to look like they waited on line.

And the worst part of the ATM story is that the women I saw on television talking about their dream being ruined never had a chance.  One homely woman named Shiquita (like the banana, but misspelled I assume) was crying that she had come from Richmond and had almost made it in when the auditions were closed.   Perhaps it is time for Shiquita and these women to wake up from their dream, the one that they are living in where they are beautiful women, inside or out.