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.