Heartache of Soccer Moms
It was a Friday and I have been feeling on and off all day like a bathroom light switch. I was up at Club 54 and had a pack of friends coming up to see what might be golden, might be a paella bowl filled with hot death. Who knows there anymore? Didn’t really know what to make of my possible sickness. I say “possible” as Darcy and I recorded the anniversary show at the Old York where JP was the bartender and maintained he was feeling a bit better but still in the red zone on the sick meter. When Darcy called me on the Friday and said he was bailing on going to 54 to watch because he felt ill, that’s when psychosomatia kicks in. It’s great. I bet I’m sick because I think I am. I’m the king of that.
The week leading up to it, I tried out new stuff at Luke Alberton’s new room at the Augusta Room in Kensington Market, and Matt Shurey’s room at the Cameron House on Thursdays. From either I had a couple of new nuggets that I thought I could rotate into the cycle. Come 54 time, I got there to find my friends in the middle of the room surrounded by what appeared to be a gaggle of soccer moms (What’s the collective for ‘soccer moms’? An Astrovan? A Eurostar?). Had friends Brian Hope and Andrew Evans there to watch the killing/mediocrity/comic dying a hot death [delete as appropriate] and both got on as openers for me which could not have made me happier. Brian stepped up and had a slow start and good ending, which is what I supposed my set would be akin to. Andrew hit the audience hard with some new cock jokes (not to take away from the fact that they’re funny, but they are cock jokes) that surprise-surprise worked well in Burlington. He enjoys doing the room there and it shows as the marriage between the audience and his material is solid. I took the stage after. Not a bad evening but surely not one of my best. What made the whole thing weird is that I got laughs from stuff that never gets laughs, and on the back of that I’d think “Well, if you liked that, I’m going to be a rock star after this big joke!”…and then I’d get nothing. Okay, back to base, next joke.
I’m glad for the opp to do the longer sets as doing nothing but the five-minutes here and there, or the hosting up-and-down-blurt-out-material-as-you-go, but it makes you more aware of how much you have to pace and get a flow going for jokes, bits, and chunks. A decent night but I need more of them.
PS: If you have bought an iPhone and you hand it out to buddies of yours to look at, know that your mates will most likely browse for porn and leave it on the browser when you’re showing someone like your mom how the internet works on it.