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Yankee To Philly

Last night was a perfect storm of comedy, sports and the the thing that those two forms of entertainment have served me steadily over the years, disappointment.

At 7 pm I was on stage at Comix as the warm up comedian for 12 Angry Mascots, a fun show that features stand up, sketch comedy and interviews with comedians and local pro athletes.  Last night featured the New York Jets’ Darrelle Revis and the Duke Alum/NY Knicks’ Chris Duhon.  Of course my Jets fan friends (including one who wears a Revis jersey every Sunday), my Duke alum friends and NY Knicks fan friends did not make the show, which moves them ever  closer to my prognostication  that my friends will one day accept an invitation to be gang raped if the only other option left to them is to attend one of my shows (noted for my Michael Jordan-esque Emmy acceptance speech sometime in the next decade).  Sh*theads.

When I went backstage before the show I saw something that was bizarre at the backstage of a  comedy show, attractive women.  Like attractive flies to athletic sh*t, nice looking women just find out where athletes are, even if it takes them to, yikes, comedy clubs.  It dawned on me that for pro athletes like Revis and Duhon, they probably have to actively decide NOT to get laid when they go out for a night.  You know, the way a comic has to decide whether to buy a chocolate milk and walk home from an open mic or save the money for Metro card money and have a pleasant bus ride home.  Same sort of thing.

So I did my set to warm up the crowd.  I have not emceed a real show in a while and I had forgotten how cold a crowd can be when you get out there.  Material went over well – my targets were LeBron James’ oldness (Morgan Freeman going to play him as a high school senior in a biopic), racism in baseball and President Obama (per usual).  I was pretty happy with it, but there was no time to gloat or see if I could hang with Revis because it was off to Philadelphia for a show at the world famous comedy venue, JD McGillicuddys.

As I got on my Amtrak I saw that AJ Burnett had staked a 4-0 lead to the Angels.  I furiously munched peanut M&Ms and listen to the angriest Jordin Sparks song I could find on my iPod in response.

I arrived at JD McGillicuddys in plenty of time before my set so I enjoyed some ice waters and watched the Yankees make an awesome 7th inning comeback.  Fortunately, before I lost my semi-depressed delivery the Yanks gave the lead back to the Angels.  Showtime.

Did about 25 minutes where almost everything worked (including some new bits about yelling at people in elevators and the first prison rapist), but I have never blindsided a crowd more than with a new bit that is simply called “The Terminator.”  Might need some tweaking, but it sort of veers from Greg Giraldo (my favorite comedian and the type I hope to be some day, minus the stint in rehab) into more Jim Norton (comic I really like, but who is a little to the dirty/blue side of me, but who sort of inspired me to take some darker chances with my material).   Then after the set I watched Nick Swisher pop out with the bases loaded I binge drank two beers.

The night ended with the comics crashing at Luke Cunningham’s mother’s house (because comedy, once again, is not rock and roll or professional athletics, which did not stop me from trashing the guest room).  I thought about sleeping in the train station for the night, just so I could truthfully include a The Pursuit of Happyness moment in my biopic, but opted against it.  We all got a solid 4 hours sleep before catching the 7:07 am SEPTA/NJ Transit train from Philly to NY, also known as the “My fu-king spouse insists we live in Philly, even though I work in New York” express.

All in all a very fun trip.  And it was a reminder that I could turn more of a profit if I were a homeless man who alowed frat guys to kick him in the nuts for $20 a pop.

Next week I will have a big show in NYC Tuesday or Wednesday (unknown yet) and then I am in Boston October 30-31st headlining Tommy’s Comedy Lounge – hope you can make it.

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“Tackle That Nigger” & Other Sights and Sounds At…

I was one of the big believers that some of the intense criticism (not so much the criticism itself, but the tone and language and unwarranted passion of the criticism) of President Obama was based on race.  People spoke of the tenor of the national conversation becoming increasingly hostile and aggressive.  Well, fortunately football fans in Pittsburgh do need the nuance of political arguments because they are more than happy to simply blurt out rude and offensive slurs.  Let me take you on a tour of this past Sunday’s Pittsburgh Steelers vs. Cleveland Browns game.

As I walked to Heinz field with my brother we observed several classy t-shirts. “Baltimore sucks, Cleveland swallows” was one such shirt that was clearly debasing the national conversation on football and city supremacy.  Another shirt, however, caught our attention.  It simply said “Burn the Brownies.”  We joked to each other that there could be a not-so-subtle racial tone to that shirt. 

In Pittsburgh, Brownies are a rival and a euphamistic slur.
In Pittsburgh, Brownies are a rival and a euphamistic slur.

Everything seemed pretty normal walking to the stadium.  Fat men in Steelerjerseys mocked other fat men wearing Cleveland Browns jerseys.  My brother andI were actually quite surprised at the absence of homophobic slurs that usually abound at professional sporting events.  Maybe this would be an extra classy day at Heinz Field.

After we took our seats we were quickly joined by three men in our row.  They were all approximately 6’1, 220 lbs of high school football and college drinking weight.  They looked like they were about 22 years old.  They spoke like they were from the antebellum south, both in content and accent.  Here is what happened.

Sidenote- Can anyone explain to me how trailer parker/redneck is a uniform accent throughout the country?  I have met trailer parkers/rednecks from places as different as Alabama, Colorado and Michigan, but they all seem to have the identical twang. Weird.

1st Quarter

Comment one from Billy Bob (that is what I will call their ring leader) came at the expense of a black man wearing a Browns jersey.  Billy Bob yelled at this man, (loud enough for close by people to hear, but not loud enough for the man to actually hear) “Sit down Brownie, and I don’t just mean your jersey.” I gave Billy Bob the benefit of the doubt – either he had seen the former FEMA director or he was trying to be intentionally provocativefor his friends’ benefit, which as a comic I could understand a little.   Nothing to get to worked up over.

This guy is a fat racist.
This guy is a fat racist.

2nd Quarter

Listening to fans at a football game is generally like being at Church – don’t expect tons of logical or scientific words to be uttered.  In the former it makes sense because it is predicated on faith.  However, I am amazed at how dumb football fans can be, despite honoring it andfollowing it like it’s a religion.  In this quarter Billy Bob went to get some beers from the concession stand.  However, he was taking his “Terrible Towel,” which his buddy, Cletus, wanted to continue waving.  As soon as it was clear Billy Bob was going to throw the towel I knew it would land on my head.   Four seconds later as I sipped my hot chocolate, a terrible towel landed on my head. 

This angered my brother more than it did me, but what happened afterwards was even more awful.  Cletus, in his drunken 81 IQ way explained to me in these exact words, “Oh man, I’m sorry.  He was trying to throw the towel at me and hit you in the head.”  Oh, thanks for clarifying that for me!  I would have never known that that is what happened, except for the fact that I saw Billy Bob throw a towel and felt it land on my head.  Moron.

Then Cletus, with a chance to star as lead idiot while Billy Bob got beers, turned and spilled his entire current beer on an 11 year old kid in front of him.  Moron.

This kid had a beer dumped on him by dumb, racist crew.
This kid had a beer dumped on him by dumb, racist crew.

3rd Quarter

This climax of this experience occurred during this quarter.  With the Cleveland Browns running the Wildcat offense with a black player playing the quarterback (I don’t know most of their players’ names because they suck – oh correction – they swallow according to the Pittsburgh area literature) the Browns began to make some good plays.  And then, after a particularly good play, Billy Bob uttered the words that ruined my day and possibly won Eastern Pennsylvania for Hillary Clinton in the Democratic Primary against Barack Obama:

“Tackle That Nigger.”

This was one of those moments for me where time sort of stopped.  I felt like Zach Morris in Saved By The Bell where only I could speak or hear what was happening.  My thoughts were, in order:

1) I need to Tweet this (shameful, but very modern reaction)

2) Wait, did Billy Bob  just really say that?  And that loudly?

3) Why is no one looking around? Did anyone hear that?  Or are they ok with it?

4) Damn – I am sure this guy has little interaction with mixed race people, but even so, I am going to have hit up a tanning bed.  But he’d still be thinking it even if he was too embarrassed to say it.  I have had numerous experiences like this where white people have felt free to tell me all sorts of racist things because it was winter and they had no idea I was half black or half anything besides white.

5) Does Billy Bob realize that  he is wearing a Santonio Holmes jersey, who is quite black?  Or is this just emblematic of America’s tradition (diminishing, but still existent) of embracing blacks as entertainers only (even Obama had to brand himself as “cool”), while fearing, dehumanizing and/or denigrating blacks in other contexts.

My reaction was sort of dumbfounded and as I looked around, based on the composition of the immediate 5-6 rows (white, lots of rednecky accents) I did not think an argument, let alone a fight, would be advisable.  But hopefully my letter to the Steelers organization identifying the date and seat numbers will ensure that these guys have a tougher time getting into games and will have to just watch games from the Aryan Nation Father-Son Sunday Brunch.

4th Quarter

My brother and I sat with sort of a vomity look on our faces, not really enjoying the remainder of the game sitting in the KKK box. 

As I sit writing this now I am reminded that racism is alive and well in America.  However, I am just as annoyed with people who would read this, be disgusted and outraged by such overt racism, while reassuring themselves that they are not racist simply because they don’t speak the same language.  The people who did not even flinch when he said “Tackle That Nigger” are the bigger worry to me and there are a lot of them.  Perhaps I should have hit the guy or started something, but it felt like a useless reaction.  Not sure what I should have done exactly, but I wish I could of thought of something more satisfying than just “be pissed off.”

Of course all of this could have been averted if the Steelers tackling was better.

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Friday Night Slights: Comedy at Georgetown University Law Center

There are bad ideas and then there is what happened this past Friday night.  It was the first night of my law school reunion at Georgetown.  For the few days preceding the reunion I was told that some people thought it would be a good idea for me to perform some stand up at The Dubliner, which was the bar where the Class of 2004 happy hour/binge drinking incident was to take place.  I was extremely reluctant to do this, but when you do comedy it is a thin line between politely refusing twice and saying “NO FU-KING WAY” when you are asked a third or fourth time.  So I agreed and at 9:50 pm Eastern Daylight Time on October 16, 2009 I got on a makeshift stage and began what should now be known as the case of Cauvin & Random Comedy Fan v. South American & Eurotrash Douchebags.

9:51 I look around and see about 70 law students watching in the back waiting for me to tell jokes.  I also see 15 people speaking incessantly in the front.  I think, ‘maybe I’ll make this quick because these people may not want to be at some impromptu comedy show for Georgetown Law Alums at a random bar.’  I also think, ‘yep, this was a terrible idea.’

9:53 Too much talking up front (including soccer chants).  I say, “Hey, give me 5 minutes and I will make you laugh a little then I’ll get off the stage.” I figured being understanding to some of the patrons who did not want to be there for law school reunion/annoying jokes would appreciate it.  Instead 5 o’clock shadow South American douche yells out, “Do you want to bet?  You will not make me laugh.”  Oh crap.

9:57 Right to the Obama impression.  Law students laughing in the back, but not enough to drown out foreigners in front.  Even Obama bombs with these people.

10:01 pm – after various strange comments and people getting on stage I hop off the stage after enduring a “show” that should have never been.  Then began the fun stuff.

Random Guy (RG) – Man that was great – don’t listen to these as-holes – that Obama impression is sick

Me – Thanks, this is definitely not the venue for comedy.

5 O’clock Shadow South American Douche (SSAD) – Why do you do this?

Me – First of all, you’re a dick.  Secondly, this is not the place for comedy.

SSAD – But why would you take a microphone if you cannot do comedy?

Me – I don’t know if there is a language problem or if you don’t realize that you are a condescending prick, but my comedy is fine.  What do you do for a living?

SSAD – I do many things.

Me – Ok besides being a dick and not shaving regularly what do you do?

SSAD – I am in business.

Me – Well wouldn’t your job be rather difficult if I came in shouting at you during the entire meeting?

SSAD – But I would never do business if I could not.  You are not good at comedy.

RG – This dude is funny and you are a fu-king rude piece of sh*t.

At that point this complete stranger who appreciated my comedy actually got into about a 6 on 1 confrontation with a contingent of South American and Eurotrash dudes (and a chick) defending my comedy.  I had to step in to prevent it from becoming a fight.  So I guess just when I thought Georgetown Law had struck again and actually infected my stand up (previously immune to all the awfulness of law and law school/center-ness) with a terrible experience I was able to spark a near fight for someone willing to fight for and against my comedy.  And as it turns out the Eurotrash South American contingent were actually LLM (sort of like a Masters in Law – you know for people who have given up on giving up, as opposed to law students who have just given up on dreams and hopes and originality) alums of Georgetown so they just plain sucked.

But it was a pretty nice trip otherwise to the Law Center.  Got to see Chief Justice John Roberts give a talk during the alumni gala dinner.  I was very tempted to pull a Kanye-Taylor Swift on him (perhaps, “Earl Warren was one of the best chief justices of all time!”), but since C-Span was not covering it I figured a di-khead move without television coverage is just a di-khead move.  So law center reunion was overall good, but would shortly be overshadowed by a series of ugly incidents at Sunday’s Pittsburgh Steelers game that I attended with my brother.  To be continued tomorrow…

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Despite The Nobel Peace Prize, The World Needs Obama…

In light of President Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize I must encourage him to engage in a newer and more muscular form of international and domestic governance.

(warning – you need a working knowledge of the first two Godfather films to fully appreciate)

Afghanistan

New plan that should satisfy everyone.  After consulting my advisers (NY Times, my uncle, my mother, history books) I have come up with a plan.  Several years ago a jingoistic and bellicose colleague of mine at the Bronx DA’s Office had suggested nuking the entire Middle East because you could not reason with that part of the world (most likely save Israel, lest his parents become upset with him as a military advisor) And I thought he was nuts, primarily because invading a country that you had no business invading (Iraq) and then claiming them to be unreasonable savages when they fight back is hardly conclusive proof of a people’s inability to use diplomacy.

But Afghanistan has proven a clearer quagmire (giggity giggity) if that makes any sense.  They attacked us and we half-assed fought back because Bush and Cheney had dumber and/or greedier ideas.  My advice to Obama is simple on Afghanistan.  I believe that is the real front on terrorism and that leaving it alone will only foster another 9/11 perhaps 10 or 15 years from now.  But at the same time the corrupt leaders of Afghanistan are more than willing to talk out of both sides of their mouths, letting America fight for it, while badmouthing America and all the while not preparing and securing their country as best they can.  So my solution is simple.  We leave.  Pack up everybody.

But at that point Obama should play Vito Corleone to Hamid Karzai’s Barzini, Tataglia, Strattchi and Cunio (seriously, who the fu-k was Cunio?).  We will denounce their heroin production as a dirty business which Karzai will insist on keeping among the dark people because they are animals anyway.  But then on to more serious matters – this Bin Laden business.  Obama should just stare at Karzai chillingly and tell him we are leaving and will let them do what they want, but if any harm comes to the United States in any form; if we should be attacked by terrorists finding safe haven in Afghanistan;or if our troops are harmed in another part of the world; or if Americans are struck by a bolt of lightening then this we will not forgive.  And we will literally erase Afghanistan from the map (I’m talking nuclear), or at least blow it into the 12th century, which may actually be an improvement in some respects.   But until that day we swear on Bo Obama that we will not be the ones to break the peace.

The Senate

The Senate, except for a few members, is a group of whores and prostitutes.  They have been turned out by corporations and industries and are no better than the women who date investment bankers (I feel the crack whore stereotype needs to be updated).  Health care reform, gun control, environmental legislation and a myriad of other issues are blocked, not by the minuscule consciences of the Senators, but by their corporate pimps.  So, what the country needs now is term limits for Senators.

Someone once wrote to me that we do have term limits; they’re called elections.  Not when we have allowed money to infect and dominate every part of the process we don’t.  The longer you stay in the Senate, the more corporations want your ear because of your seniority and influence.  The corporations buy your money and then give you more money to keep it, which allows you to advertise more and gain a stronger and stronger foothold for re-election.  Your constituents gain from your seniority in the form of small pork projects so they remain pacified.  The cycle continues until you are a big, bloated fat (sometimes both literally and metaphorically) whore of a Senator.  The ironic thing about men like Ted Kennedy was that he was able to be a champion of the people because his money and legacy did not come from, or at least was not reliant on, an industry pimp.  He did not rely (though I am sure he used) the wealth of soulless companies and lobbies to get him re-elected so he had the rare luxury of actually prioritizing people over companies.

Would the NRA really be the biggest lobby if Senators could only serve 12 years?  Think of how much more would get done for people if the Senate was not a de facto lifetime appointment.

Needless to say this might require more of a Michael Corleone approach, more aggressive than the diplomatic Vito.  After all, Michael put Senator Pat Geary of Nevada in his place, so if Chris Dodd or Max Baucus wakes up in a sorority at Oregon State with a dead co-ed, I assume Joe Biden will be there to assure them that they are lucky it happened there because that’s President Obama’s Brother-in-law’s place.

Saturday Night Live

Make a call to Lorne Michaels and have Fred Armisen removed from impersonating you.  Yesterday I received a call from my brother.  My 2 1/2 year old nephew had seen a picture of Obama on the computer and said, “Uncle J-L”.  One of three things is possible:

  1. My brother has shown my nephew my YouTube clip way to many times.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAyUoDEX0GE
  2. Obama is leading a double life.
  3. Fred Armisen needs to step aside.

I think the answer is #3.  Make the call President on all of these things.  Especially the SNL thing.  Lorne Michaels, I think you know what happened to that producer Woltz.

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Mad Man

Today I depart for Boston for the semi-finals of the Boston Comedy Festival.  Last night I had my own show that I produce and I was excited both for the great lineup we had, as well as the fact that I would be able to do a nice practice run of my set for tonight.  Unfortunately, that would not happen.  What would happen is that Medgar Evers College would finally be bumped down to #2 on the list of worst gigs I’ve ever performed.

Last night the bar was largely occupied by young members of an ad agency (think Mad Men, but all stupid, unable to handle their alcohol and unattractive) who had been there drinking and playing Wii since early afternoon, since they had a half day.  Even in my glass half empty approach to life I thought, hey maybe we could make fans of this group since they work nearby.   Instead what we got was a bunch of drunk as-holes.

I managed to get through about 4 minutes of material until I had to deal with the idiots (and they had already ruined 4 people’s sets).  There were two main offenders.  One was a drunk kid who looked like he was about 19.  He managed to make a spectacle during everyone’s set.  The other was a slightly older d-bag who would shout random things he thought was funny.  For example when I said the word Obama, he shouted “Obama your mama hahahahahaha.”  Even when they appreciated the jokes, they would then discuss and argue loudly why the joke was or was not funny.

I felt terrible and embarrassed for the great comics I had come to perform, but fortunately all of them know experiences like this.  I was very close to actually pulling the Chazz Palminteri scene from A Bronx Tale, which I ironically just filmed a spoof of, where he locks the bar door and tells them that they can’t leave the bar.

Adding insult to injury, I was talking after the show outside with Nick Cobb when the 19 year old spectacle came outside and started talking to us.  So I said to him, “You just ruined our show, but now you are interrupting my life and a private conversation.”  Then when I was talking to Nick one of the worker’s from the ad agency, we will call him Token after the South Park character,  decided to flex his muscle by saying the following, “Don’t you hate comedians who aren’t funny and make fun of the audience.”  At this point he might as well have come into my apartment and taken a sh*t on my bed.  Despite actually trembling with rage (my only fear was that I might hospitalize the jerk – I am no fighter, but I am big and like most comics have very little to live for) I managed to utter out the most sensible thing I said all night – “you and your friends ruined the show in there, but now you’ve come outside and disrespected us out here.”  Hearing that, and probably seeing the crazed look in my eyes that only occurs during Utah Jazz losses and listening to Sean Hannity, he apologized.

But there it is.  Bad audience, but not as bad as Medgar Evers College.  But the fact that it happened at my show and nearly resulted in misdemeanor assault charges makes it the worst.   All in all, since Monday, this has been the worst string of shows I’ve done (3 “eh” shows on Tuesday, an awful open mic on Wednesday, and a crime against humanity on Thursday).  Let’s hope Boston brings me back some good vibes.

There is a happy ending to the Always Be Funny show story though.  My friend who part owns the bar where my show takes place left me a voice mail last night.  He told me that the drunk 19 year old had torn down one of the bar’s signs in drunken stupidity and thrown it in the bushes outside, so my friend threw him in the bushes, at which point he began crying.  The only thing that would have made me happier is if Token had somehow had his jaw broken during this exchange, but even so, maybe it was a sign that my luck was changing at the right moment.

We’ll see – Boston Comedy Festival Semi-Finals tonight at 9 pm – Hard Rock Cafe.

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The Top Ten Of The Summer

Summer Movies, Had Me a Blast

The Summer film season kick off was Wolverine, which was the worst thing not named Swine Flu, Paul Blart or Blue Dog Democrats to emerge this year.  Fortunately, the rest of the Summer with a few exceptions, turned out to be pretty damn good.  Although I was pleased with last Summer’s movies, especially The Dark Knight, I think this year’s were overall stronger.  Here’s my top 10 if you want any recommendations before heading back to school, work or prison:

1. Up – Amazing and touching Pixar film about an old man who is too busy having an adventure to complain about Obama’s death panels.

2. District 9 – The most creative movie of the year and probably going to get a Best Picture nomination now that the Academy can nominate ten movies.  In short it is about an alien who lands in Africa who is harassed by locals when they begin claiming he was born in Hawaii.

3. Bruno – People were mixed on this – whether they liked it or hated it.  I thought it was brilliant and more daring that Borat.  So what if the only redeeming message was that the only thing more gross/funny to watch than gay male sex is angry, homophobic rednecks and disgustingly ambitious L.A. parents; it was all absurdly hilarious.

4. Drag Me To Hell – This film was gross, creepy and hilarious.  And like Joan Rivers – it was all intentional (have soem Comedy Central Roast people).  I probably enjoyed this movie more than any others this Summer.

5. The Hurt Locker – Interesting and tense movie about a guy who diffuses IEDs in Iraq and seems to like it.  They are talking Oscar potential for this one, but my guess is because it is not political enough and because Sean Penn is not blowing anybody, its chances are not that high that it will be remembered in February 2010.

6. The Hangover – This will be remembered as the comedy of the year and the film that finally made Las Vegas a destination for young men to go party.

7. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince – I thought this was the best adaptation from the books and Alan Rickman does more with little dialogue than anyone I’ve ever seen.  But I wish one of Potter’s classmate’s name’s was Joseph Takagi.

8. Public Enemies – I was disappointed by this film, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t good.  Oddly enough I thought Johnny Depp was the weakest part of the film – stick to playing weirdos and heartthrobs.

9. Star Trek – This movie surprised me in that it did not suck.  In fact it was pretty good.  Of course I found it strange that the Beastie Boys’ Sabotage was still relevant centuries later (I do not equate Mike D as the Mozart of the 2300s), but it was well done by JJ Abrams and company.

10. Terminator Salvation – Fu-k you, I enjoyed it.  The second half of the film made the first half make a lot more sense and seem relevant and I actually hope they make a fifth and final one.

The only thing left for me to see this Summer will be Inglourious Basterds.  If it is amazing I will make note of it, but more than likely it will just annoy me.

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Bye Bye Birmingham

Last night was the final show in Birmingham.  I was very happy with my set and was hopeful that I would sell the five CDs I would need to cover overnight shipping of the CDs to Birmingham because I left them at home, unaware that Stardome customers tend to buy merchandise after shows.  However, the nation’s second worst economy after Detroit and not headlining were two factors working against me.  I sold zero so had a net loss of $50 on the CDs.  Must remember my CDs next time so my comedy career does not become a Ponzi scheme where I am the only victim.

For a good show you want everyone to laugh and have a good time – like a 2008 Obama rally.  However, I am thinking that to sell merchandise it helps to be be more 1996 Clinton or 2004 George Bush – anger some people so that the people who really like you in the crowd will rally to you even stronger, in the form of CD/DVD purchases in my case.

I will miss you Birmingham, but we will always have di-k in the ass jokes.
I will miss you Birmingham, but we will always have di-k in the ass jokes.

Overall I had a really good time in Alabama.  Thanks to everyone at the Stardome, Matt Mitchell, Tim Pulnik, Reno Collier and the comedy fans of Birmingham.  Also thanks to the people on the highway who did not hit me with their cars as I sprinted across the highway a few times a day to do kill time at Chipotle and the Galleria. 

Next stops – Denver, Boston and San Francisco.

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Letter From A Birmingham Comedy Club – Part 1

So yesterday was my first day in Birmingham, Alabama.   Big plane to Charlotte.  Tiny plane to Birmingham.  I have noticed that the little planes that I am forced to take to smaller cities are always piloted by guys who look like they just left a boy band.  My guess is that you have to be old and experienced to fly a big plane and that younger pilots get their wings (yeah pun) on the little planes.  The problem is that the little planes are much scarier.  I just envision these two bros in the cockpit high-fiving each other and talking about tag teaming chicks when they get to Birmingham while the turbulence is causing me to soil myself.

Also, even the flight attendant seems to be half-assing the small planes.  The big planes usually have two women and one gay dude, to show that they care about service and style, and they are always in uniform.  On little planes, like yesterday, the flight attendant was basically in sweats and a USAir t-shirt.

The club has a car service pick me up, which made me feel like quite the baller.  I checked into the Courtyard where I am staying which is conveniently located about an eight minute walk from the Stardome Comedy Club.  The only problem is that I have to sprint across what is basically a highway to get there.

The show last night was fantastic.  I thought I had a very good, but not great set, but was truly surprised by Birmingham comedy fans.  They laughed at anal sex, 9/11 analogies and even cheered for Obama, which I asked them not to.  Fortunately one older woman was nice enough to balance it out by saying, “he’s stupid.”  I think she was talking about Obama.  I think tonight will be great (sadly I often take one night to get used to a new room).

But the venue is amazing.  425 people in stadium-style seating – and it was packed on a Tuesday night!  The only drawback was that the most common look-alike for me (see my bio pie chart on my website) from people last night was Vin Diesel.  And many people wanted pictures with me based solely on my height.  But other than that great start to the week.

Funny future storyline here is that I will HAVE to sell at least 15 dvds/cds before I leave.  I will let you know Monday if I did it.

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Asheville Recap: From TSA to TNA

This weekend I was in Asheville, North Carolina for the Laugh Your Asheville Off Festival.  Here is the whimsical recap:

I woke up at 530 AM to get my flight from Newark.  Not my first choice, but when it is a free flight from American Express you go to Newark.  For anybody that doubts the toughness of Newark, NJ you need to look no further than their TSA agents.  A woman in her early 50s obviously gave a Napoleanic TSA agent some guff when she was told that she would need to have a separate screening.  I did not hear what she said, but she received a “you got something to say?” from the TSA agent.  Actually she received about 4 “you got something to say’s,” with each one drawing the TSA agent closer until he was literally in her face, which was followed by her silence.  He then said, “that’s what I thought,” and started walking away, to which she started saying something, which was followed by TSA agent turning around and walking back saying, “Don’t start talking when I turn around baby girl.” Now to clarify the tension this was not some sassy black queen talking to this woman, but a slightly more thuggish young man, so it probably didn’t help when I kept muttering, “hit the bitch.”  When it was my turn I looked at him and said, “You think you bad?  You ain’t bad!  You ain’t nothin’!”  So my trip started with an inauspicious start, as I thought of something that sounds like a tag from a terrible horror or thriller movie, “The TSA protects you from terrorists, but who will protect you from the TSA?”

So I arrived in Asheville on one of the smoothest small plane rides I can ever remember and had plenty of time to kill before my 930 pm show.  I had lunch with the producers of the show, which was nice and allowed me to get the scoop on the Asheville scene (bottom line – if you are a comedian and get a chance to do a show there – do it).

Then I spent the next few hours in my Super 8 Motel room working on my set, but then I got hungry. Seeking an authentic Southern experience I went to the only non-Waffle House across from my motel: Hooters.

There are several things strange about my trip to Hooters.  I brought a book to read, which already can indicate homosexuality to certain neanderthal thinkers at anytime, but bringing a book into Hooters is like going to a Neanderthal meeting and saying I prefer tales of Richard Nixon’s election in 1968 to breasts.  But I brought the book simply to avoid gazing into the dead eyes of the waitresses.  Another strange thing was that the televisions were playing That’s So Raven on the Disney channel.   It seemed ironic to me, but maybe Hooters can be a family restaurant,considering that signs at the restaurant indicated that today was Conceive Your Daughter At Work Day.  I kid the Hooters waitresses – but I felt like I should be pimping them to come to New York, “Ladies you know what pretty girls with big boobs can get in NYC?  Anything you want!  But you’ll want to lose that cheerful attitude.”

Then it was time to go over for the night’s shows.  The shuttle from the Motel was basically a golf cart, but less masculine and cool (my door closed by Velcro).  It would have been less humiliating to arrive at the show dressed as Professor Dumbledore riding a Big Wheels truck.  This was at 6 pm, which only meant that I had 6 hours until my set.   After waiting for what felt like an eternity I went on and had a great set in front of an amazing crowd.  Really amazing.

After the show a guy came up to me to tell me that he thought the Obama impression was really good and that he is an impressionist and is struggling to get an Obama.  I very much wanted to go Kenny Powers on him and say, “Actually I don’t understand you.  I’m a comedian, not trying to be the best at imitating,” which is a lie since I like doing impressions, but it would have been funny to me to say that.

The next morning was Waffle House time, where I ate a ton of food for $7 before getting on my flight back to Newark.  it was very bumpy the whole way back and then I realized that we had a female pilot and co-pilot.  I have never seen that before, but other than the emotional instability of the flight it was pretty much a normal flight.

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The Return Of The Cave Man

Whenever people talk with fear about radical Islam in the Middle East they speak about how it is a fringe element of the faith that wants to bring modern society back to the 9th century.  We fear this because it comes with repression of women, suicide bombs, etc.  But the more I look at American pop culture it seems we are hell bent on doing the same, but with our own American style.

The fastest growing sport in America is Mixed Martial Arts. I know defenders of this sport will call  the guys great athletes, but that doesn’t cover up the fact that it is basically just brawling for the enjoyment of a mob.    It reminds me of the scene in Gladiator when Derek Jacobi’s character is discussing how Rome is the mob and Caesar will be applauded by the mob for giving them bloody games.  Well, I guess we’ve come full circle.  Watching highlights of these MMA events convinces me that we are less than a century away form Gladiators coming back.

Twenty years ago, prescient film pioneer Jean Claude-Van Damme did a movie called Lionheart about underground fighting clubs for big money.  20 years later the clubs are out in the open and cleaning up on pay-per-view.   Are we 20 years from the number of movies that showcase races or fights to the death (usually involving prisoners) becoming reality?

Frenemy, ginormous and staycation are now in the dictionary, so this is not just a testosterone fueled movement.  Idiots of all classes, races and genders seem to growing exponentially and continue to win.  The movie Idiocracy, by Mike Judge, shows, through two accidental time travelers over the next 500 years, society getting dumber and dumber to the point that a porn star is elected US President, popular shows on television simply involve people getting hit in the nuts and people can barely speak properly.  Judge may have overshot with 500 years.

Twitter has shown us the way to communicate with each other in short bursts.  So in 50 years perhaps we will simply communicate with emoticons or high-tech equivalents of grunts, believing technology automatically means better, but not realizing social skills have eroded to the point that we are more at ease instant messaging each other than actually communicating in person.

Last year I thought there was hope when The Dark Knight elevated a traditionally mindless genre, the action/comic movie to something artistic and elegant.  But this year’s #1 movie is Transformers 2 which appeals to the basic attraction to visual and aural stimuli with base humor and nothing else.   So after a year that gave us Obama and The Dark Knight (my two favorite things from 2008) it appears that tales of the idiot’s demise were greatly exaggerated.  Time to go tweet.