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Road Comedy Recap: Philadelphia’s Joe DiMaggio of Comedy

Last week (Wednesday thru Saturday) I was performing at one of my two favorite clubs in America: Helium in Philadelphia (the other being the DC Improv, where I will be performing Feb 26th-28th).  The problem was I had to commute all week because I am working a day job and there is no hotel for features at Helium so it is more economically feasible for me to use Amtrak points to commute each day than to get a hotel.  I referred to myself as “the Joe Biden of comedy” on stage 4 times – it killed once, got some applause twice and bombed once (Biden famously, or not so famously according to 75% of crowds in Philly, commuted on Amtrak every day back to Delaware from DC to be with his family). What followed was the most successful merch haul of my comedy career and the most exhausting week of comedy of my life. For those not lucky enough to be in attendance here is the recap:

Wednesday

Run out of work at 4:25 – get on the A train to Penn Station to catch a 5:10 Amtrak to Philly. The single scariest experience of my life on the NYC subway occurred (even scarier than when a 400 lb black woman tries to squeeze into a seat space made for an anorexic dwarf and more scary than the time on my 7th birthday when I got on the 1 train without my mother and had to be comforted by a nice Latin lady, which may explain my life long affinity for Latin women). The train was fairly crowded and then at West 4th Street a man with no shirt on, with the build of Tommy Hearns who may have been high on bath salts (not kidding). I have never been on a subway so quiet because this guy was yelling at the top of his lungs (thankfully to no one in particular) the following (just examples, not a full transcript):

  • Don’t you fu*king look at me
  • You think I am a fu*king ni*ger?
  • If I had a knife I would fu*king slash you (especially scary because there has been a rash of slashings on the NYC subway in the last month)
  • Does this train stop at 59th street? (Ok, this one is a lie)

When I say yelling I mean Samuel L Jackson “I hope they burn in hell” times 10 yelling.  As I sat there I said to myself  “don’t look at him and only get physical if he attacks you or a hot chick sitting near you.” He moved to another car at 14th street, but that was the longest 80 seconds of my entire life.  And with that fun start to the week it was time for Philly comedy!

Nothing too interesting to say about the show other than the fact that I killed, sold CDs and avoided Shake Shack next door.  Also it was my second time opening for Bob Marley (New England comedian, not a hologram of the dead guy with one good song – I am a huge fan of Could You Be Loved), who is a funny guy, really nice and should absolutely be cast as Bill Burr’s nice older brother on a sitcom.

I got home around 12:30 am and fell asleep quickly after setting my alarm for 6 am.

Thursday

I woke up Thursday at 6 and took Cookie (my dog) out for her morning piss. I then made it to work at 8 am, allowing me to get my 8 billable hours in before going to Amtrak again.

There were no homicidal maniacs on the train on my way to Penn Station or Philly (unless I have some inner demons that have not yet surfaced).  The show went great and I sold a lot of CDs.  It was at this time that all the comedy pundits began to realize something special might be happening in Philadelphia.

My personal record for merch in a week is $410 – 6 shows in Philly in 2013 I sold that amount of albums ($10 per album or all 3 that I bring for $20). Well after good sales Wednesday and Thursday the experts began to wonder if this could be the week I break my own modern day record for CD sales by a middle act (these are unofficial stats).  I just told myself to take it one show at a time and not to worry about the week.  Went home same way and when I walked in Cookie did not even greet me, presumably because she already thinks she has a deadbeat dad and because she likes my girlfriend more than me and that is who she was getting quality time with in my absence.

Friday

When I got to the club on Friday, both shows were sold out and I made a killing after the first show.  I also had a guy come up to me and tell me he liked my appearances on The Adam Carolla Show (now the key is to turn my media presence into people who intentionally come to see me perform, not just get pleasantly surprised).  The record looked to be in my sights. But like any no-hitter in baseball – you cannot talk or think about it or you can jinx it. Well, as it turns out the second show started 30 minutes late which meant I would have not be able to sell merch because I had to catch the last train to NYC at 12:10 am.  So I left the club and walked to 30th street station and found out that my train was 40 minutes delayed. So now I had missed my chance to sell and had to sit in majestic 30th Street Station with just a pack of peanut M & Ms and some docile homeless dudes until my train arrived.

Saturday

Now with all attention firmly fixed on me as I entered the last day with a chance to pass $410 (at this point it was the comedy equivalent of DiMaggio’s 56 game hitting streak – and just so you know, t-shirts and other non-CD/DVD items are like the juiced ball era of merch sales. I am trying to be Hank Aaron, not Barry Bonds #Purist #Hero). I had some good and bad omens.  On the good side there was a third show added on Saturday at midnight. Not that I expected to stay to sell after that, but it meant I would have to stay for the  first two shows, both of which were sold out, since my only transportation option was a 2:20 am Greyhound.  But a bad omen occurred also. My train to Philly was at 5, but my Fresh Direct order, which was supposed to arrive between 1 and 3, was severely delayed due to computer error and would not arrive until 5 at the earliest. So I had to cancel my food order, meaning that Sunday I might not be able to eat, unless I walked two blocks to a local supermarket. But like any great athlete or performer, I blocked out this stress and just focused on having great shows.

I killed with the first crowd and sold a ton of albums and had several repeat fans come up to me saying that they had seen me before and were happy to see me opening (once again, 2016 is the year of the intentional fan support, instead of the accidental). In fact, my total stood at $340 going into the second show.  I went to Shake Shack next door to Helium to take my mind off the historic accomplishment awaiting me and order a burger.  A woman in the kitchen came up to me and said “You really killed it the other night at Helium.” I said thank you and she then told the cashier to punch in a code that gave me $3 off  of my burger.  I then headed back to Helium with the swagger of Steph Curry playing a WNBA team knowing that it was not a matter of if, but when I would break the $410 barrier.

The second show went great and I pushed the total to $450. Confetti came down from the ceiling and I got a call from President Obama.  I then had a good show on the third show despite being in a sleep deprived semi coma. I left the club and made a 1.2 mile walk to the Greyhound bus station, which, surprisingly was fairly clean and did not have the feeling of a Taliban or Crips meeting place like many bus stations around America.  When I boarded my bus at 2:15 am I realized I was on a bus that President Trump might actually drone strike.  It was a few black people, 377 Mexicans and 220 Asians.  I heard almost no English spoken and realized that this Greyhound bus was basically the 2016 Underground Railroad or a Latin/Asian re-boot of Mad Max: Fury Road.

The bus arrived ten minutes early in NYC and I made my way home for a restful night of sleep, probably already awash in the Zika virus from that bus ride, but also swimming in cash like Demi Moore in Indecent Proposal.  All in all a net gain.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap – Sick in Saratoga

This weekend I had, what appears to be my final gig of 2015, in Saratoga Springs, NY. And like the race horses that have run there, my career has been begging to be euthanized.  On top of that general malaise, I also was (and still am) in the midst of the worst cold I have had in many years.  But it was with the warrior’s determination of a vagrant participating in a bum fight that I boarded the PATH train to Hoboken to meet up with Usama and Dan, another comedian on the show and the show’s producer, respectively, to ride up to Saratoga.  Usama, who turns out was going to go to medical school before discovering comedy, or as I call it, “the poor man’s def poetry”, showed off his brains and wit quickly, as he pick 6’d one of my jokes in our initial conversation (a “pick 6” is a term I coined for when a comedian telegraphs his (sigh… or her) punchline so badly that were it a football pass you could intercept it and take it in for a touchdown.  In this case it felt more like I had been picked off by Richard Sherman or Darrel Revis (like when I anticipated a Bill Burr punchline correctly at MSG – sometimes a brilliant comedic mind can make a great play without it being the QB/joke teller’s fault).  In my case, Usama and I were looking at the Freedom Tower from Hoboken (a Bangladeshi man named Usama and a bi-racial Egyptian-looking giant surveying the Freedom Tower from New Jersey – I am scared and angry that we weren’t profiled) and I said, telling him it was a joke (instead of being one of the comedians who pretends like his organic conversation just naturally morphs into well constructed bits), that it is a good thing we didn’t have cell phone cameras on 9/11 because nothing would have been worse – and he interrupted me and said “People shouting world star as the towers fell!”  And at that moment I realized either I am losing my fastball or Usama is a sharp dude/comedian.  Needless to say both my comedic instincts and my self preservation instincts compel me to choose the latter.

So Dan showed up shortly after Usama and I met and we got into Dan’s Subaru. Dan is Italian, but also has a Mediterranean skin tone that could easily be construed as Middle Eastern, so basically we had a sleeper cell headed to Saratoga, with much worse funding.  Usama fell asleep in the backseat for just about the entire ride up, which allowed me to eat horribly at rest stops without the skinny dude body shaming me. #DoveSoapAd

We arrived at the venue, The Parting Glass Pub, at around 7, just in the nick of time for the 915pm start time.  There were just as many headhsots of horses as there were of entertainers, or maybe Tony Robbins used to do comedy.  I sat in a half coma sounding like Stephen Hawking with a stuffy nose, hacking like I was in the last stages of Ebola, which allowed me the isolation I needed to prep for my set.  The show went really well with Usama really impressing me (he did use the “soul bounce”, generally saved for black comics in all white rooms (trademark pending), to point out he was a real outlier compared to the crowd, whose racial makeup was somewhere between albino and bleach, but his set was really great).  I did well with my 40 minute set (my timer after read “40:07” which proves that even when sick I am a well-oiled machine of struggling comedy) despite my cold and the local guy taping the show was nice enough to tell me he was a huge fan of my appearances on The Adam Carolla Show.  Basically this was like Jordan’s flu game against the Utah Jazz, but for upstate NY comedy shows.

We then departed back for Hoboken, stopping just once at a Roy Rodgers where I got a burger and fries just to ensure that death would come swiftly. We arrived in Hoboken at 3:00 am and Usama took the PATH back to the city.  I got home at 3:45 and celebrated a good show with a chipwich and 4 hours of sleep.  For one little show the money was good, though I did the math and if I had simply worked on my legal assignment for the entire time I spent on the Saratoga trip I would have made triple the money.  When you are willing to sacrifice comfort and money for comedy that is a sign of dedication to your craft.  Or a sign of masochism.  Either way, looks like that is the last road update of 2015.  Thanks for the least productiv & least lucrative year of comedy road work for me in 7 years comedy biz! #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: FInally, J-L Has Come Back to…

This weekend took me to Bethlehem, Pennsylvania – birthplace of Jesus Christ and high school football location of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.  Well, major events happen in threes, so you can officially add my stand up performance to that historic duo.   I was scheduled to headline a 7pm show at Broadway Social and because of my extensive fan base (consisting almost exclusively of friends from college and law school) I knew I would have 2-10 “fans” in the crowd.  To get to Bethlehem I had to take Transbridge bus line (“I took Transbridge bus to get here, so I guess now buses can identify as whatever they want in this post Kaitlyn Jenner world” was my first joke on stage and it bombed), which is all part of my “Not Even Good Enough For a Greyhound Depot” Comedy Tour of America.  At only 3 hours, the bus ride was not quite long enough to cripple my bum knees, but I still had a limp for about a half hour after arriving in Bethlehem.

When I arrived I was greeted by my buddy Scott, Scott’s brother and a friend of theirs.  It was also confirmed that many years ago I coined a term called “Weinberg” that has become very popular in their circles in Bethlehem.  Like many funny things I have forgotten I told Scott that whenever someone tries to shift blame on someone out of nowhere it is like when Col. Nathan R Jessup in A Few Good Men asks Daniel Caffey who’s going to protect the country, “You (Caffey?)” *turning unexpectedly to Kevin Pollack’s character with a hint of Antisemitism “YOU Lt Weinberrrggg?”  So at some point in my storied career of unpaid humor I referred to someone as totally “Weinberging” someone. And for many years that has become a thing in Bethlehem, PA. #Legend

When we arrived at Broadway Social I saw that it was a pretty nice bar/lounge so I took in the surroundings, went over my notes for what I wanted to do on stage and set up my camera that I lugged from NYC.  After several local comedians went up I went up and had a very strong set.  The lounge had a clear VIP lounge area for private parties or something so it got a huge laugh when I said after a sort of dirty bit got less laughs than others “Oh please we are in a club with a VIP rape room right over there!  So don’t act too uptight when you know that visiting stripper porn stars probably come here to fu*k who ever is the important business man in Bethlehem.”  I was extremely happy with the set and knew that I had at least 2-3 quality YouTube clips ready from the set.  On top of that I also was paid $5 more than the agreed upon payment.  So let that be a lesson to you young comics – if you do things right, work hard and professionally you will reap tremendous, unexpected benefits.

Sometimes your talent and height are too big for a normal spotlight.

After the show I went back with Scott to his house, but his three kids and wife were at the in-laws, which led to two benefits: a late night viewing of John Wick on HBO and a free child’s twin bed for me to sleep in (I think I secretly hoped that Scott’s family would arrive before I woke up just for the potential Goldilocks/Home Alone level humor of a 4 year old finding a giant in his bed.  Of course it probably ends with the child standing his ground and killing me in a perfectly legal shoot (especially considering my black father/ISIS eyebrows), but still pretty funny.

The next morning, before catching the transbus (Its momma named it bus, I’ma call it bus!), I was asked to stand as Godfather to Scott’s youngest child (After Mel Gibson and Stephen Colbert I might be the third most famous Catholic in entertainment).  I then slapped him and told him he should act like a man!  So, just another typical road comedy gig for me – bus travel, lucrative cash bonuses and providing spiritual guidance.  And then I got home and accidentally deleted the set from Friday night. #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Road Comedy Recap: Killing and Getting the Death Penalty…

This weekend was Labor Day weekend, but in one of the great ironies of my comedy career in 2015 it was one of the few weekends I found myself working in a comedy club, instead of at a computer doing legal work.  I was in Timonium, Maryland at Magooby’s Joke House featuring for Rob Maher (he is the guest on this week’s podcast).  So, continuing one of the most revered traditions in all of stand up comedy, here is another road recap for you to enjoy:

Thursday – Small Crowd, Smaller Laughs: I arrived in Baltimore with The Wire theme song repeating in my brain and got on the light rail to Timonium. From there it was a .6 mile walk to the Red Roof Inn Plus, where I was staying. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived at the RRIP for a few reasons: one – I have stayed at some very pleasant, well-attended Red Roof Inns; two – this was a Red Roof Inn PLUS so it was probably better than that and three – I paid $159 (including taxes and fees) for three nights. So those are two reasons it could be good and one that could mean I would get raped and murdered by Waingro from Heat (an analogy I have made too many times to the various lodgings in my comedy career).

 

That night there was only one show. The crowd was light and for me, the laughs were lighter.  It was one of those crowds where way more people came up to me after to tell me variations of “really funny,” and I always want to reply, “Yeah, I know, but it would have been cool to laugh out loud during my set so that I didn’t get the universal sign for “not funny at all.”

After the show Rob (the headliner) and I were caught in a conversation with a 5’7″ busty blonde from Bel Air, MD who taught special ed kids (what’s not to like?).  Now on a quick biographical note, I dated a 5’7″ busty blonde from Bel Air, MD for three years so perhaps engaging in any conversation with her was an attempt to re-capture a pleasant moment from my past.  However, that lasted about 20 seconds. Why?  Because the woman at the club was kind of racist and might have been looking to cheat (two of my three rules with hooking up are 1) must not be racist and 2) must not be in a relationship – the third, which does not apply here is 3) must not be someone a friend dated). Well this woman was regaling Rob and I with stories of how she has relationships with women, that her husband was away for the weekend and how she gave her 1st BJ in 7th grade.  She had an accurate count of how many black men she had made out with in her life (“three”) and many other odd statements that might have made her super progressive during the Civil War, but felt uncomfortable in 2015.

After leaving the club and bisexual, racist version of my ex, I stopped by the gas station across from the RRIP, bought a pack of Soft Batch cookies and a 1% milk (an old road tradition of mine) and went to cross the street when I saw a young 20-something woman in a low cut tank top and shorts holding a sign that indicated that she was hitchhiking.  Needless to say that this empowered woman was just another in the quietly dignified group of “sex workers” in America who, despite a 99.9% correlation of being victims of sexual trauma and/or parental neglect, she seemed like the exception to the rule and just making sound life choices to augment her entrepreneurial life.  But since my room had two beds and I felt bad I asked the woman three quick questions…

Washington had Mt Vernon. Jefferson had Monticello. J-L Cauvin has the Red Roof Inn Plus

Friday – J-L is Back! (but still not selling much merchandise): Friday I spend about 5 hours in a Panera Bread reading (FYI – the best chocolate chip cookies available from a chain are Panera Bread’s. They are awesome).  Message to any men over the age of 60 in Timonium, MD – there is an oasis of senior citizen vagina in the Panera Bread.   I also tried to watch a movie through Amazon Prime in my room, but Red Roof Inn Plus has the WiFi equivalent of 1997 dial up.  I also noticed that there were a lot of ants in  my bathroom area so I did buy a can of Raid-Ant Killer and proceed to become the Bashar-Al Assad of the Timonium ant community.

That night I had two strong shows, but sold almost no merchandise.  So instead I bought two packs of Soft Batch, one for each CD I sold. I would have given the local prostitute a pack, but she was not out on Friday night.  I then got home in time to catch an amazing fifth set between Rafael Nadal and an Italian dude named Fabio Fognini. In addition to upsetting Nadal, he also led to the greatest tweet in US Open history when I wrote “Fognini looks like the hot member of an ISIS boy band.”

Saturday – Kill on Show 1, Get the Death Penalty on Show 2: One of the things I have learned recently is that even as I get better at writing and performing my comedy I will still alienate some crowds, even when I am on my game. Generally it will be a combination of easily offended and mentally dumb that don’t get or like me.  Well Show 1 Saturday was NOT that crowd. I murdered as hard as I ever have with that crowd (video clips coming to the YouTube channel soon).  I really had a terrific set and felt great.  I had earlier watched Northwestern upset Stanford on TV (my brother went to NU so they are the college program I root for/follow) and had had another Panera chocolate chip cookie that day so with a great first show the day had the makings of perfection.  Then Show 2 occurred…

I felt good going into show 2. My friend Marie, from law school, showed up with her husband so I thought – “I am killing with strangers – now the crowd has people I know – THIS IS GONNA ROCK.”  What followed for the final show of the weekend was nothing short then capital punishment.  Awkward silences to the early litmus test jokes I have (early set jokes I use on the road that always kill so I can gauge the crowd) and then when discussing Latin women and working in the Bronx an audible “Wow… wow” from an unhappy women. That wouldn’t be so bad, except that was the only sound.  In 3 of the 4 shows before the laughter may have drowned the feigned shock of this woman, but the late Saturday crowd’s silence provided her with an audible spotlight.

The best thing about doing comedy long enough is that you really don’t feel badly after a tough set (they did lose it to a 5 minute bit about being blamed for other people’s shits in public bathrooms – not surprising).  I think they could tell I felt mentally superior to them, which may have hurt my chances of regaining their affection (which I never actually had).  Oh well, 3 of the 5 shows went great, one went so so and one was a bloodbath (with me as the sole victim).  But it is weird that in the same town, on the same night one crowd of residents can think you are the greatest thing ever and then the very next crowd hates your guts within ten minutes.  But that is how real life has been for me so at least my comedy appears to be true to myself. #Blessed

Off to Los Angeles next week. Stay tuned.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Road Comedy Recap: Amtrak Animals and Arlington

This weekend represented the end to the longest slump in my comedy career. 7 months in between road work.  There are several possible reasons for this bad streak: bad luck with e-mail response, blacklisted for naming some notorious pieces of sh*t within comedy, making funny videos about people in comedy (the group of people who never stop claiming that “nothing should be off limits” in comedy), or less available work because of the need to work shittier comedians with managers who leverage their bigger clients to get their less talented ones force fed upon the general populace.  Whatever the reason is for my historic dip, this weekend was a break from that as I featured for Michael Ian Black for four shows at the Arlington Cinema & Drafthouse.  So as usual, though I am rusty having not written a road recap in 6 months, let’s start from the beginning.

On Friday morning I headed to Penn Station to catch Amtrak to DC.  I arrived with perfect timing as the train track was called just as I got in view of the big board with all the track assignments.  Now, anyone who knows Penn Station knows that when a track goes up, unlike every other train station in the northeast corridor where orderly lines emerge, a mob scene immediately develops with half of the people attempting to form something close to a line while the other half begin to attack the front of the line from 5 to 6 directions, as if they cannot see the line.  Every time I get a train at Penn Station I am reminded how horrible humanity is.  We don’t need an apocalyptic situation or a water or food shortage to see humanity at its most savage; we just need a track assignment in Penn Station on a Friday.  The best part was when I was in the middle of the line a man just sort of slide into the line right in front of me.  I just tapped him on the shoulder and said “there’s a line.”  He then sheepishly moved all the way back (having a good foot in height and 100 lbs in weight on someone makes enforcing moral order a little bit easier).  I felt good, but I realized that it didn’t really matter.  Just the fact that in a random sample of Amtrak riders, 50% of the population does not give a shit for order or respect for other people irritates me so much.  The only silver lining is that the people that cut the line, rushed the middle, etc. came from all backgrounds, proving that economic status, sexual orientation, gender and race make no difference in how awful human beings are. #AllLivesSuck

So with a good, angry sweat built up observing this I grabbed a seat next to an old lady reading a Kindle (while I read my hard copy book) and headed to DC.

I checked into the Arlington Hyatt, which thanks to good luck on Hotwire.com turned out to be a very nice hotel and across the street from a Metro station.  For those of you that do not know Hotwire, it is like gambling for middle and lower class travelers.  You put in your address and it gives you anonymous hotels within certain distance ranges from your given address. It tells you the stars of the hotel, the price you will pay (always cheaper than other travel sites because it ends up helping hotels you might not book on another site because of either the name or the distance). So you could end up with a hotel 3 blocks from your destination or 4 miles (my range was 0 to 5.5 miles that I picked from).  So I was very happy to get a hotel off of a Metro station, 3 stops from the Drafthouse when it could have been a disaster (and they are non-refundable – you only learn your hotel when you have already paid).  It is a very thrilling way to start a mundane trip. But possibly not riveting blog reading.

The shows were really fun at ACDH, as they were the first time I was there in 2014.  I began a bit rusty, but to be fair (since I never hesitate to shit on crowds that suck) they were easy/very pleasant audiences.  The most important thing I learned from the 1st night was that I needed to retire a Ronda Rousey joke I tell. Here is the offending part:

Even more than Hillary Clinton, I feel like Ronda Rousey is a more impressive feminist hero.  Because she is not just doing what a man does, but she is so impressive men might want to be her, without thinking of gender first. I mean she’s rich, she’s famous, she’s ripped and she gets applauded for beating the shit out of women. What guy wouldn’t want to be her?

Now the joke is a solid joke in terms of structure and punch line, but I finally realized (the joke has hit well 50% of the time for me and fallen flat 50% of the time in the 10-12 times I have told it) that I have to quit telling it. If I was 5’3″ and 105 lbs I could probably get away with it because (as I discussed with the emcee of the weekend) it would rise to the level of absurd and the joke would feel less like a viable threat.  However at 6’7″ 275 lbs the idea of hitting a woman is sort of impossible to make funny even if the joke technically works.  #LargeComediansPunchlinesMatter

The second night was outstanding.  I had dusted off some of the rust of the first night and both shows, especially the second one, were killer. Sadly, videotaping is not allowed at ACDH, even by comedians so the set will only live on in the hundreds of oral re-tellings of the feature act’s legendary performance by the hundreds in attendance.  New bits killed, old bits killed and by the end of the night I only had 5 of the 26 CDs I brought to sell (I lost 21 on the Metro – KIDDING – I sold 21 copies because I am very good at stand up comedy).

So it was a great trip and it felt good to be on the road again, even if just for a few days and even if I spent Saturday in my hotel reviewing e-mails for my daytime legal work.  I feel like the two best parts of road work are leaving and returning: the excitement of going to perform for new people and then the mental exhale of knowing you will get back home to your usual comforts: cookies and a TiVo. #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Road Comedy Recap: The Scatman Crothers of Metro North

On Tuesday a storm hit the Connecticut/NY area.  It was a healthy mix of snow, rain and hail and caused me some apprehension because I had a gig in Stamford, CT at 8pm and it was up in the air whether it would be cancelled.  I also received multiple messages from my mother warning me about the weather, which if not for windows, eyesight and Internet access I would have never known.  Feeling sleepy and being discouraged by the weather I was tempted to cancel on the booker, but then I realized I had a lot of new material I wanted to work on so my love of comedy propelled me to Stamford.  That and the fact that at 330pm yesterday my daytime work assignment ended abruptly and the gig in Stamford was a paid gig.

I have not had road work since December so forgive me if I consider a 47 minute express train to Connecticut as a road gig, but for blogging purposes I do.  And for $14.50 I had to stand for the whole 47 minutes to Stamford (unlike many people I cannot fit into most Metro North seats, especially if there are other people sharing the seats).  So I am really less of a road comic and more of a road warrior.

When I got to Stamford I had about 40 minutes until my set and according to my phone’s GPS, which was getting soaked in the slushy rain that was pouring down, I was a mere 15 minutes from the bar.  And then my phone did something that it occasionally does that pisses me off.  Holding my phone completely upright it still refused to point the right way so I spent 10 minutes in the slushy dark trying to determine which unshoveled sidewalk I was supposed to walk on to get to the gig.  I finally was able to interpret my messed up GPS and trudged along to Castle Bar & Grill (a very cozy little spot in Stamford). When I walked in it looked like (get ready for the title of this blog) Scatman Crothers arriving in The Shining.  The only difference was that he was axed to death immediately after his long, wintry journey (35 year SPOILER) whereas I only wished someone would ax me as I dripped my way in to the bar like a giant, melting, grey parka snow cone.

After thawing out I went up and had a very good set for something that was 75% material written in the last month (#prolific #blessed #NeonBoudeaxuOfComedy #BlueChipsReference #ItMeansIamAGiantButYetLargelyUndiscoveredTalent #TooManyHashtags).  And it confirmed the thing I have felt for years – very little can restore my desire to perform comedy than doing well with newer material in a bar show.  They don’t do anything to advance the business side of my career but it always feels good to win over a small audience, as well as fellow comedians, and gives a little boost to keep going to see it work with bigger crowds.

Now it is time to get on social media and see a bunch of tools claiming to crush and/or be blessed so I can get rid of my renewed enjoyment of comedy ASAP.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: The Magnificent Seven

This weekend was a busy weekend in comedy for me.  On Friday night I opened for Bill Maher (this is what I call eating a sandwich and tweeting a couple of funny jokes before sitting down to watch Bill Maher on HBO) and Saturday I was having an important industry meeting (this is what I call having a couple of beers with my friend John while telling him an Adam Carolla joke about microbrews, “are there any more ‘brews’ or is everything now a microbrew?” while he suggested to me having a podcast on craft beer – not a bad suggestion, based solely on the irritating trendiness potential of the topic).  So after that whirlwind of comedy (I was also asked to review a contract of a comedian friend on Saturday evening, giving my unpaid legal work gigs an early 1-0 advantage over unpaid comedy gigs in 2015) I moved on to Sunday where I actually had that lesser valued part of a growing stand up comedy career (after Twitter followers, Google analytics, numbers among millennials, etc.): a stand up comedy gig (and just like that unpaid comedy gigs pulled even with unpaid legal consultations for comedians at 1 a piece).

On Sunday night I was on a show at the Laughing Devil in Long Island City, the club where I recorded my Louis CK video and my best album, Keep My Enemies Closer. In other words I am only a Hells Angels’ stabbing a random black dude away from making that place world famous.  Well, to confess, this was my first gig of 2015 so I decided to try a batch of mew material for my 10 minutes set.  When I entered the showroom a minute before my set I noticed that there were 6 audience members.  I felt like Rain Man counting toothpicks I calculated the number so fast, but upon slowly fact checking my brilliant first impression it was indeed only 6 people.  But as much as it is a cliche for comedians to say, I had a great time with those six people (if you are not as good at math as I am, the title of this blog alludes to the fact that me performing would be added to the six audience to make it a “Magnificent Seven.”) and at least 5 of them seemed to enjoy my set.  about 8 of the 10.5 minutes I did was 2015 new and the biggest chunk, based off a blog I wrote, really killed (you would have thought there were 11-13 people laughing) so that was encouraging.  I can confidently say that two of the bits from last night will almost certainly make the cut for my next album recording this Spring/Summer (it will be album #5 and so far the two titles I am considering are Chinese Democracy or My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, assuming that neither is taken)

So that is it folks – the first comedy recap blog of 2015.  Now here’s hoping the hostel gig I have booked for February 1st is the gig that finally takes me to the next level. #Blessed #ComedyMogul

Epilogue: It was raining when I went to the gig so I brought an umbrella.  The rain had stopped by the time my set was done so I left my umbrella at the club. Assuming it is gone now the gig actually cost me $15 in a lost umbrella. #ComedyMogul

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: The Town Greyhound Bus Forgot

This weekend marked the last scheduled comedy work of the year for me (and technically the last scheduled work of my life if you check the barren wasteland that is the calendar page of my website, but I am mildly confident it will not stay that way) and it was a classic J-L gig full of positives, negatives and sad transportation.  The trip began with Martz Trailways – the Monkees to Greyhound’s Beatles.  The shows were at Mohegan Sun in Wilkes Barre, PA.  The first thing to mention is that the casino is really nice.  It is how small casinos should do it – make your casino a smaller site of luxury instead of making a big, cheap, shitty casino.  People would rather have a small dose of a luxury hotel with nice restaurants, bars and table games then some behemoth of slot machines and crappy buffets (the buffet at MSWB by contrast  is quite good).  But before I can get to the casino I had to take the aforementioned Martz Trailways.

There are a few signs that your town or city is struggling.  One is if there is an Ebola breakout.  Another is if the girls who reside there are routinely beaten for attending school. But a worse sign than either of those is if Greyhound buses choose not to service your town or city.  And Greyhound does not go to Wilkes Barre.  So when one arrives at the bus depot at Wilkes Barre it sort of resembles a group of overfed walkers from The Walking Dead.  After a relatively pleasant three hour bus ride (as pleasant as I can be with my knees firmly lodged into the encroaching seat in front of me I arrived and waited for the local bus to arrive.

You guys going to NYC or Scranton?

Pulling up to a nice casino on a public bus is probably exactly how the Rat Pack did it in Las Vegas, so naturally I felt like a real big shot when I stepped inside the Mohegan Sun.

Dean? Frank? Sammy? You guys there?

The first night the show was tremendous though I had a moment that made me feel really guilty.  One of my jokes that I recently wrote, based on an actual encounter at a Panera Bread in October of this year, is about a confrontation between an older man and a young woman.  I described the man as a “Clint Eastwood type who had the look of a man who had killed a bunch of teenagers in some foreign village.”  It got a decent laugh, though that is not one of the big laugh lines in the bit anyway.  But coming off stage (to tremendous applause #Blessed) a man in a motorized scooter stopped me and said “You were very good, but we didn’t go over there to kill kids. That wasn’t right.”  And for one of the few times in over 11 years of doing comedy I felt really bad.  Obviously I did not mean the reference as an indictment of veterans, but of course the imagery would be graphic to someone who actually had been in Vietnam.

So I was feeling bad waiting outside to sell CDs after the show (sold 3 #ComedyMogul) and I saw the man drive his scooter (is that how you describe that?) to the bathroom and then he just got off it and walked with relative ease to the bathroom!  Knowing that he could walk made me feel less bad about the joke for some reason so the night ended on a high note and I celebrated with a large chocolate milkshake (#ComedyMogul).

The next day I spent in my room writing two of my best sketches ever.  Look for the first one on December 16th (a novel look at the violence affecting black men in America) and the other one in early January (me as Joel Osteen).  I will leave it at that, but I have missed the days of being able to just sit and write for 5 or 6 hours in a row.  I can really crank out good shit when left alone by people trying to get me to pay my bills.

The Saturday show was very good and I sold one CD after which I promptly used to buy a large chocolate milkshake ($4 change left over #ComedyMogul).  The club paid me in cash, which given my love of gambling was dangerous, but for the second trip to MSWB in a row I avoided all gambling. After all, trying to make stand up comedy a career is a much bigger gamble than anything you can put on the roulette wheel.

The next morning woke up early and went to the Wilkes Barre station which at 645 am is fortunately cleared of walkers.

All is quiet on the Wilkes Barre front

So there it is folks. Another year of stand up and travel is over.  Now it is time to get into the office and help some real #moguls make money so I can continue my #ComedyMogul lifestyle (extra chicken on my lunch salad).

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: Comedy Sharecropping in Connecticut

This past Saturday I had a gig at an Italian restaurant in Connecticut.  To be fair I also had a paid gig at a bar in NYC on Friday so it was basically a cash bonanza for my comedy career.  The Friday gig conflicted with the Utah Jazz- (my favorite hoops team of the last 27 years) NY Knicks game at Madison Square Garden.  The Jazz had lost 9 of their last 10 games at MSG (including the last 6 that I was in attendance for).  Last year I went to the game courtesy of Lorne Michaels’ seats (a writer on an LM show gave them to me because he was unable to go last minute and when an NYC comedian hears Utah Jazz they think of me) and the Jazz lost by about 140 points.  So of course this year I decide to take a $20 spot in NYC and predictably the Jazz won on a buzzer beater in a very exciting game.  Meanwhile at the bar show I was heckled for 20 minutes a cop during my set (the kind of heckler where after the show he/she says “hey man… I am just being me… it’s all good” which is basically what the heckler said).  My main response to him halfway through one of his unsolicited tag suggestions was “Thank you, I will be sure to stop by your station house Monday and offer tips on how to better beat up black teens.”

On Saturday morning it was time to film a new sketch. I had to construct a desk podium the night before, but after filming the sketch I donated it to Ripley-Grier studios. So not only am I a great artist, but I am also a patron of the arts. #Hero

All of this was prelude to the main event: featuring at a restaurant in Danbury, Connecticut.  Not only was there a check at the end of the show, but non-alcoholic beverages were on the house!  However, alcohol and food were full price.  First step was the $27 round trip ticket on Metro North. Upon arriving in Bridgeport it was a $30 cab ride (split with the emcee so only $15 bucks per person #blessed) to the restaurant.  There was a Dunkin Donuts next door to the restaurant so I thought, “Hey I will go to Dunkin Donuts, eat a cheap egg white sandwich and juice for dinner to save my constantly diminishing profit margin!”  But we arrived at 8pm to the restaurant and guess what time DD closed?  8pm. It was like a coherent strategy had been implemented against my financial well being.   So I went inside and ordered a lasagna at the restaurant bar.  As my profit officially dipped into double digit dollars I just instinctively began humming negro spirituals.  Here is a clip of the emcee and I right before our sets:

The sets went really well, but during the headliner’s set I got hungry so I ordered a piece of carrot cake because I knew we would be making a run for the 11:13 train (the last one to NYC for the night) and I did not want to starve on the train home (#HalfWhitePeopleProblems).  So with $1 left in my pocket I got my check and the booker’s wife drove the emcee and I to the Metro North station.  There was no time to sell CDs sadly so I ended up netting slightly less than my monthly Sprint Mobile bill.   I know the sharecropping analogy in the title may seem a stretch, but if the financial realities of a one-nighter don’t convince the reader I was also forced to sit in the comedians-only section of the Metro North train on the way back to NYC.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Labor Day Weekend Comedy Recap: DC Comic

This weekend I was at the Arlington Drafthouse in Arlington, Virginia to feature for Jay Chandrasekhar (or Jay C as I would have called him if I knew him better and had thought of that funny nickname on the spot instead of on a train two days later), known best as a comedy director and star of the films Super Troopers and Beer Fest, though I was happy to hear that he had also directed several episodes of Arrested Development.  I took Amtrak down to DC on Saturday and then ventured to the Metro Pentagon City stop, which was also the location of the mall I always went to during law school when I wanted to spend money I did not have. I hopped a cab to my hotel, the Pentagon City Sheraton, a 4 star hotel according to Hotwire.com, which continued its excellent streak of providing me with criminally low prices for DC Summertime hotel rooms (honestly – I feel like the cheapness of DC area hotels in the Summer could not be any lower even if there was an outbreak of Ebola in the DC area).

When I arrived at my hotel with an almost dead cell phone I realized I had left my cell phone charger at home.  So I took the hotel shuttle back to the Pentagon City Mall to purchase a cell phone charger, which quickly put my net earnings from the weekend at a robust -$21.00.

It was then time to head over to the theater.  My hotel was literally .9 miles in a straight line from my hotel so I started walking, forgetting that I am 36 lbs heavier than the last time I lived in DC for a Summer.  By the time I arrived at the theater I looked like Robert Hayes trying to land the airplane at the end of Airplane!  The staff at the club was great and the crowds were some of the best I have performed in front of.  And CD sales were surprisingly robust.  I saw an older gentleman leaving the theater on Friday night wearing a Williams College hat and I said – “Hey Williams – I am class of 2001.” He then gathered his family around to chat – he was Class of 1964, his son was class of 1996 and his daughter was a vile human being, which I inferred when she said that she had attended Duke.  We had a nice chat and then they bought my albums, which made me finally feel like I was benefiting from the Williams College alumni network.  After that an older drunk woman sort of sexually harassed me which was made weirder by the fact that her date/boyfriend/lover/husband/benefactor was right there. She actually spent 4 drunken minutes guilting him into buying one of my CDs.  It would have been less awkward if he had just paid me $10 to come back to their apartment and have sex with her while he filmed.

The next day was a big day of podcasting.  First was recording a mega movie episode of my podcast with Chris Lamberth (goes up tonight/Tuesday morning) and then I headed back to the theater to record back-to-back-podcast episodes with the guys behind the Three Guys On podcast.  Then, with 7 hours of my life gone I felt like I had had a busy day of accomplishments, until I realized all I had done was record three podcast episodes.  The show was not until 10pm so I had more time to kill so I grabbed dinner with my buddy Ross, whose wedding was chronicled in last week’s blog post.  He then revealed a  truly shocking pair of opinions to me: he is a huge fan of The Leftovers and hated Guardians of the Galaxy.  I asked him when he was joining up with ISIS, since he clearly hates America.

The show was surprisingly packed, sold a few more CDs and then headed back to the hotel. Sadly, my trip back to NYC this morning has been punctuated by a disturbing amount of people in my Acela train car with bare feet up in the air or on their seats.  I am so tired of people putting their feet everywhere like the world is their foot rest.  Feet, whether covered or not, belong on the floor, unless you are in your own home.  And no one wants to see your feet.  I have been angry about this and not many people articulate it better than Adam Carolla in his new book President Me.  From my perspective it is one of those things that is wrong, but the burden shifts to the complainer if you complain.  Like being owed $5.  The person should just pay you back, but if you ask for it back too often you will get the “Jeessh, alright – it’s just $5!!!”and YOU end up feeling like an asshole even though they owe you money.  Put your shoes on people and keep them on the ground.  Other than that, really successful trip to DC.  Hope to see some of you people at the DC Improv October 24-26 when I am back (assuming the people at the shows read this blog).

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!