Quite the Long One…

Quite the Long One…

…and that’d be ‘weekend’, oh gutter-minded people. The weekends never seem to go the way you think they’re going to. I’d have thought that the holiday weekend would pass without a hitch, that the celebration of Jesus taking the first long weekend would be simple enough, and the shows that you do are going to be basic, simple affairs with little or no bother at all.

Typically I’ve found that the second that you entertain such folly, you’re pretty much asking for fate to swing by and, well, catch you in the swingers.

Thursday, I had to abandon the Comedy Above The Pub show since I was previously booked at the Rose Theatre in Brampton. Having left the room in the ever-so-capable hands of Joy Acharjee, I had no doubts that things would be taken care of, in both a tickety and boo manner. So, chock that one up goodly. The car ride up to Brampton with Todd Graham and Brendan McKeigan was filled with the usual guffawing and armpit noises you’d expect in a car full of comics or any other social retards. So…fun ride. We get to the theatre to see the place packed and filled with eight-to-twelve-year-old girls and accompanied guardians.

Uh oh. What did they have us booked into? I don’t know if you’ve caught any of my newer stuff, but no matter how many times I look at it, I’ve got little to no Hanna Montana material. Only when we realized that the main theatre was putting on a performance of “Beauty and the Beast” did the sphincter loosen a bit. Bullet dodged. So, we then heard word that our show was in fact going to be packed. Bonus! Take that, dancing tea cups! Further to this, we were told that one of the reasons for the full room was that it would be teeming with bussed-in postal working curlers out on a do. Why were they bussed in? So they wouldn’t need to worry about pussy things like ‘designated drivers’. If you get me. Hoo boy.

The seven acts that were on the show dealt with the situation admirably. Nathan Macintosh hit the hosting mark and instantly had to deal with Noreen, a woman tearing into Smirnoff Ice like she was mad at it. Initial attempts to quiet Marlene down went like tofu dogs at a rib-fest. Not well. By the time that Zabrina Chevannes and Ryan Maglunob tried to get her to pipe down, she seemed somewhat more affable. More the “Lemme tell ya a liddle sumthin about myself”-style of drunk. The kind that you nod to and then go on with your conversation with others. I was at least able to fight my way through my 20 minutes and hit the break.

The second half hits and thankfully there’s no sign of Marlene. But not unlike lopping the head off a hydra, well, isn’t there someone else taking her place like some queue of afternoon delighters looking to tear into the Cecilia from that really crap song from the 60s when the guy gets up to give his gob a bit of a clean-up. Todd Graham, initially nervous with the prospect of hitting the crowd with high-brow gear cleaned up his segment easily with a “You’re my age and I own you” type of attitude that went well, all being told. Martin O’Brien who I’ve not seen since his fateful stag did his usual great, and Brendan McKeigan nailed it as per. So, a good night then once we got shot of the drunks.

Next day, in calls the Toronto Star with a follow-up interview to the original recession article that they ran a few weeks ago. So, once again, my head infected the pages of the Star. My only problem was that I was hoping to be homeless by the time they called back.

“Hi, Todd. How are things going?”
“Not so good, I’m in a shelter.”
“A homeless shelter?”
“No, a bus shelter. They won’t let me near the homeless shelter. Seems I got too much bad press.”

Give it a read HERE if you fancy.

Wrapping up the weekend was the now-becoming-regular On The Curve show where we were worried about numbers. Driving out to Mississauga, I peered into as many restaurants and bars as I could. They all had the look of caves recently vacated by messiahs. Ouch.

Not to buck a trend, On The Curve was the same, but at least there was some people there, admittedly the most I saw in any place all afternoon or evening. Those that came out had a dandy time. Adam Growe of “Cash Cab” fame did a fantastic job of making everyone laugh as well as pay the audience. Nice work. Fresh off the success of Thursday, I coerced Brendan and Ryan to come out and do time for me in Mississauga. Good times but all the more exhausting.

Attempts to sleep Sunday were thwarted with post-show buzzing that didn’t want to give way until the wee hours, making the long weekends even longer. This of course gave Monday all it needed to come in and punch me in the swingers, just like its neighbour the long weekend.

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