Why I Need Vito Corleone To Manage My Comedy…

I am about to engage in a round of calls to about 50 clubs around the country that I sent dvds, headshots, etc.  I have also done a round of deliveries to comedy clubs in NYC.  So far I have a guest spot (think immigrant labor, but much, much cheaper) at one club to show for it.  Most likely a majority of these well put-together packets are sitting at the bottom of a desk or garbage can.  I know this does not make me any different from a lot of comics.  But sitting here and observing Joe The Plumber on television makes me wonder if comedy is the only way not to get success.  After 6 years in this game I have come to a few possible movie-based (of course) solutions:

• A lot more comedians are going to have to start embarrassing themselves (think Michael Richards) or die (think George Carlin) for me to move up the ranks any faster.
• I think there is a 50/50 chance I may go D-Jay style on a club owner if I actually see my packet in a garbage can or on the floor somewhere (from the movie Hustle and Flow – where Terrance Howard sees that Ludacris’ character has thrown his demo in the toilet and goes Travis the Chimp on him – this would be a racist if I were a NY Post blogger, but I am just making a joke about Travis here).  Sidenote – contact comedian Amy Carlson for the best chimp joke that I’ve heard.
• Something like Airheads (Brendan Fraser, Adam Sandler) where me and a few friends take over a comedy club until they pass us and pay us the $25 we so richly deserve.
• Or find a Godfather who can help me out like Don Corleone helped out Johnny Fontaine.  Right now the one I have is a Haitian man in his early 70s.  Not really a power connection in the entertainment industry.

Not only because it is the best film of the options I presented, but I feel like the last option may be the most effective.  If only because I would love to hear a 7 foot goon (he would have to be bigger than me) saying to a comedy club owner: “Either J-L’s name or your brains will be on the lineup tonight.” 

And it would be equally enjoyable to hear a comedy club owner say, “J-L Cauvin would be perfect for this club.  It would make him a big star.  And if I can be frank with you we had a girl we worked with for three years – acting lessons, improv lessons, comedy lessons.  And along came J-L Cauvin with his buzzed hair and his guiney-looking charm and she threw it all away to make me look ridiculous.  And a man owning a club where jokes are told every night cannot stand to be made to look ridiculous.  And to be even more frank, she was young, she was funny, she was innocent and just to show you that I am a hard-hearted man that it’s not all talent and punchlines, she brought more people to bringers than anyone else and I’ve had bringers all over the world.  Now you get the hell out of here!”

And then the next morning Carrot Top’s head is in the bed of the club owner. AAAAAGGGGGGHHHH

Ok – time to start making these phone calls.  J-L Cauvin insists on hearing bad news right away.