Don’t Think, Meat. Just Throw.
The weekend for me was better than Jesus. At no point did I get nailed to a cross, so any time that happens it’s a cause for quiet celebration. Friday turned out to be Good Friday. Got a call from fellow comic Silvi Olen who’s prepping for her 3 month comedy/hitch-hiking tour of North America. She had a line on a show for me for Saturday, and I was looking for a few places to get ready for my show at the Laugh Resort Thursday so I could attempt to [re]win them over . The room was at Fiddler’s Green on Wellesley and run by a duo of Marina and Darlene (last names not known, but assumed to be something) who were beside themselves trying to sort out the funniest show, lineup of acts, getting appropriate music. A lot of work went into this thing by them and it was worth it. Silvi and I were in the second half of the show and I was the quote-headliner-end-quote. Why? Because I have this website. If all you need is a website, I guess it’s a choice between me and any of a thousand Russian prostitutes. Guess they were all busy.
What began as a ten minute set became fifteen-plus with laughs. Good room, and the warm-up by Silvi who immediately preceded me made for a great show. It was a playful room. One of those nights where you could shrug your shoulders after a punchline and extend the laugher by 15 seconds. Would do the room again in a second. Very relaxing, very intimate, and the key thing…everyone was there to see comedy, not drink and watch “Passion of the Christ” on TV (which was playing at the back wall screen behind the bar). Nice to kill once again.
So, onto Easter Sunday. Showed up for the Drink ‘Till They’re Funny Night at the Old York. Funny night from all points. Mister went up first and tried out his new stuff. Well written and good quality stuff. Then came the next act that had a middle-aged woman climb over the railing to the downstairs bathrooms, hang herself from the banister into the void below and declare to a room wondering what liability insurance claims are these days that this was her “impression of Christ”. Didn’t realize they hung the big guy up on an opening mic. I’m sure that would have been mentioned somewhere. “Forgive them, Father. They know not what they do…Thank you and good night folks. I’ll see you all Monday.”
As the show’s about to start, Dave the MC tells me that through some cock-up, the list in hand didn’t have me or Adam McFawn’s name on it…even though we were scheduled and slated. So, before the break for glass washing and cigarette smoking, the nic-fitting packed house was waiting for me or Adam to be brought on stage. Amid the chants of “BREAK! BREAK! BREAK!”, Dave forewent the original idea to have me and Adam arm-wrestle for the pre-break spot and flipped a coin. I lost and took the stage. Perfect place to be. Being the last man before a jonesing crowd can smoke is right up there with being the midpoint on the Mamma bear-cub line. Didn’t seem to matter. Started the show staring at my setlist and saying to the crowd “I’m completely disappointed with this set list. I had originally planned to start off by dangling off the banister, and then, second act in…It’s all about writing, folks. Writing and getting it to stage first. I knew I should have opened the show when I had the chance…” Went up and got the same sort of response that I had Saturday. Really comfy. Really cozy. Really good night.
Points of note on the night:
– Adam McFawn’s and Nile Seguin’s new stuff is mint.
– The guys that I met on the Saturday who were starting out (Josh, and John who’s first night was the Saturday show at the Fiddler’s Green) came out to check out the room. Hopefully they get booked at DTTF soon.
– Fellow Clambaker Adam Rankin did stand-up for the first time. Brilliant first time up. He garnered the respect of many of the veterans in the room so we’ll be hoping that he continues writing.
– Aaron Berg references bookended the night. How often does that happen?
– Dave Pild our MC has started doing material. Opening line on Easter was a cracker. What’s up with that?
So it appears that I’m on a lucky streak and have no idea who/what to thank. As they say in “Bull Durham”, “Respect the streak.” But then again, they also say “The rose goes in the front, big guy.” Just remember that when you’re putting on your garters.