I had a gig last night. I went to Fairmont Springs with Doc Barham. He was a good guy to travel with. I think we hit it off. We traded war stories from the glory days of old school punk, and had a good time trashing Baby Bush.
Fairmont Springs is a little resort town in the interior of British Columbia. The Golf course there has a show. More to the point, they have a room, a big one, which was mostly empty. (A room designed for about 200, and I’d stay with all honesty there was less than 10 percent of that…) It was notably very cold and unforgiving. (I’m pretty sure it’s a place where they send comics just to keep them humble…)
Even the bar staff were borderline hateful. There was an obvious air of resentment from the second we walked through the door. The staff at the venue were quite curt, and seemed really put out by having a comedy show in the bar. I was shocked. I don’t expect handshakes and kisses on the cheek, but something more than a grimace might be nice.
The bar barely made an attempt to put the show on. They should have put up a sign that said “Please leave your dignity and self esteem at the door.” At least that way you could be forewarned. (I’m not sure that being forearmed would have mattered much.)
The bartender (in a polite, yet clearly annoyed fashion…) walked up to the stage with me, and then just kinda pointed at the P.A. I got the crash course, and then he lumbered off.
So I started the show… And it sled straight to hell from there. It just might have been the most awkward time I have ever had on stage. I felt like I was trapped in a fishbowl. I’ve never been gawked at like that before. It was like I had just told the audience I set fire to all their children. If this kick to my ego had been measured in monetary terms, I’d be fighting off debt collectors and loan sharks right now.
Doc’s set wasn’t much better either. He fought hard to win them over, but it was like watching someone try to squeeze blood from a turnip. He was disappointed, but put up with it like a trooper.
This morning I had a chat with the woman who runs the Spruce Grove Motel. (Our quaint accommodations… Nice, but a little sparse…) Apparently the little fracas that happened in Cranbrook last week has made the rounds. She had heard that the show had been going well (I chose not to correct that assertion…) and then chaos erupted.
It feels like I have some sort of BC monkey on my back. I never do well there. (Other than Vancouver…) The interior seems to have a big stick in its ass. Perhaps it’s the kooky fundamentalist Christian thing that runs rampant there. It’s more than a little ominous. There are signs that say things like “Jesus is the Lord of this Valley” all over the place, frankly its creepy.
I will never begrudge anyone for his or her faith, it’s not my right, or my place, but as near as I can tell, it’s a very personal thing. (Or at least it should be.) I keep my spiritual beliefs close to my chest, because they belong to me. No one else needs to know them.
I fail to understand the need for billboard-sized proclamations. I think that’s unique to Christian based belief systems. You never see Buddhists hauling out the plywood and paint to advertise. Muslims seem to get along nicely with out it too. (Other than the odd flaming effigy… but really that’s a political thing based more on the right to exist than a proclamation of faith.)
Anyway… I’m tired now.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
04/26/05
Here are some things I have been thinking about (In no particular order…)
1) I think the new Pope is pretty spooky looking. I have a feeling he won’t be around too long. I really had hoped that the Church would have looked to the future. I would have thought that a Black or Hispanic Pope would have done wonders for the image.
2) I really want to take a cooking course. Perhaps some sort of Asian Cuisine. It would be fun to learn something new.
3) I need to find a way to relax and sleep better. Maybe I’ll try meditation.
4) I think I want to volunteer with some sort of good cause organization. (My baby steps to redemption… but from what I’m not too sure…)
5) I need to write a whole lot more. I have been really slack lately.
6) I need to go back to Newfoundland soon. The homing beacon is on.
7) I’m going to start writing snail mail letters to people. It’s becoming a lost art.
8) I need to start reading the newspaper again. I let that one slide for too long.
1) I think the new Pope is pretty spooky looking. I have a feeling he won’t be around too long. I really had hoped that the Church would have looked to the future. I would have thought that a Black or Hispanic Pope would have done wonders for the image.
2) I really want to take a cooking course. Perhaps some sort of Asian Cuisine. It would be fun to learn something new.
3) I need to find a way to relax and sleep better. Maybe I’ll try meditation.
4) I think I want to volunteer with some sort of good cause organization. (My baby steps to redemption… but from what I’m not too sure…)
5) I need to write a whole lot more. I have been really slack lately.
6) I need to go back to Newfoundland soon. The homing beacon is on.
7) I’m going to start writing snail mail letters to people. It’s becoming a lost art.
8) I need to start reading the newspaper again. I let that one slide for too long.
05/25/05 "Saturday Night Main Event..."
I found a quote that best expresses my feelings about my trip to Cranbrook.
“Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.” - Max Ehrmann from The Desiderata
If Toronto is the cultural heart of Canada, (Many would argue this… I do not…) then Cranbrook is its spiritual armpit. People there have cloistered themselves from what’s happening in the rest of the country, and Damn it… they’ve done a smashing job of it. You can almost see a neon sign above the locals’ heads that says “Closed for Business…”
This mountain locale has all the hearty charm of a punch to the crotch. (That actually might be too gentle…)
The shows in Cranbrook were shakey to say the very least. Friday went well (ish). The crowd started small, but got progressively larger through the course of my set. They were there to laugh, and eventually warmed up enough to have a little fun. Truthfully it was the best I could hope for, and I knew it.
Saturday on the other hand was a complete and total shit show. The crowd was quite small, and there was a heckler… okay, really it was just a painful woman who was hammered and insisted on being rude. Every time I opened my mouth, she had something to say. I played with her for a while, letting her expose her ignorance to everyone. (Sadly no one really noticed.) I figured that would be enough. I figured wrong.
When I brought B.J. on stage, she started in on him. She was relentless. To B.J.’s credit, he was really gentle with her at first. Eventually (about 10 minutes later…) his fuse got short, and he barked at her. She still wouldn’t stop. He snapped something rude at her, and in a flash it got ugly.
Her husband took exception, and tried to rush the stage. He was quite small, and just about as lippy. Realizing that B.J. outweighed him by about 140 pounds, he backed off. (Albeit just briefly…)
He started kicking tables and chairs, and kept yelling, “Come on Bitch… Let’s go…”
B.J. remained remarkably calm… I was impressed. I was pretty sure that he could have ripped the little moron in half without even blinking. He stayed on stage and tried to salvage the show. (As much as he could… It was pretty much ashes after that…)
Then the bouncers showed up and dragged him out into the hall. Suddenly there was a loud crash that could be heard through the doors.
The dumb ass punched the wall in the lobby. He put his fist right through the gypsum. Seemingly not happy about this singular act of destruction, he slammed open the exit door, stomped down a set of stairs, and started kicking in a fence. This was a man on a mission. That’s when the RCMP showed up. I suspect that his night got a little more entertaining after that.
I imagine that the marital discourse in the doublewide later on was… in a word… grim.
On a side note, the hotel staff were fantastic. They were on top of things right away. They deserve a pat on the back.
I find it sad that some people are willing to wear their ignorance like a badge of honour. Even sadder is when others fail to recognize it. In a world where words like decency and morality are thrown about like a nickel and dime store slogan, it seems they have no actual meaning. The words have become bankrupt. (At least when benchmarked against behaviour.)
But really, the whole night had a miserable tinge to it. I could sense there was trouble afoot. It’s funny how you can almost smell it sometimes.
If it hadn’t been for the cool documentary about KISS on television, I’d be likely to say the trip was a bit of a bust.
“Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.” - Max Ehrmann from The Desiderata
If Toronto is the cultural heart of Canada, (Many would argue this… I do not…) then Cranbrook is its spiritual armpit. People there have cloistered themselves from what’s happening in the rest of the country, and Damn it… they’ve done a smashing job of it. You can almost see a neon sign above the locals’ heads that says “Closed for Business…”
This mountain locale has all the hearty charm of a punch to the crotch. (That actually might be too gentle…)
The shows in Cranbrook were shakey to say the very least. Friday went well (ish). The crowd started small, but got progressively larger through the course of my set. They were there to laugh, and eventually warmed up enough to have a little fun. Truthfully it was the best I could hope for, and I knew it.
Saturday on the other hand was a complete and total shit show. The crowd was quite small, and there was a heckler… okay, really it was just a painful woman who was hammered and insisted on being rude. Every time I opened my mouth, she had something to say. I played with her for a while, letting her expose her ignorance to everyone. (Sadly no one really noticed.) I figured that would be enough. I figured wrong.
When I brought B.J. on stage, she started in on him. She was relentless. To B.J.’s credit, he was really gentle with her at first. Eventually (about 10 minutes later…) his fuse got short, and he barked at her. She still wouldn’t stop. He snapped something rude at her, and in a flash it got ugly.
Her husband took exception, and tried to rush the stage. He was quite small, and just about as lippy. Realizing that B.J. outweighed him by about 140 pounds, he backed off. (Albeit just briefly…)
He started kicking tables and chairs, and kept yelling, “Come on Bitch… Let’s go…”
B.J. remained remarkably calm… I was impressed. I was pretty sure that he could have ripped the little moron in half without even blinking. He stayed on stage and tried to salvage the show. (As much as he could… It was pretty much ashes after that…)
Then the bouncers showed up and dragged him out into the hall. Suddenly there was a loud crash that could be heard through the doors.
The dumb ass punched the wall in the lobby. He put his fist right through the gypsum. Seemingly not happy about this singular act of destruction, he slammed open the exit door, stomped down a set of stairs, and started kicking in a fence. This was a man on a mission. That’s when the RCMP showed up. I suspect that his night got a little more entertaining after that.
I imagine that the marital discourse in the doublewide later on was… in a word… grim.
On a side note, the hotel staff were fantastic. They were on top of things right away. They deserve a pat on the back.
I find it sad that some people are willing to wear their ignorance like a badge of honour. Even sadder is when others fail to recognize it. In a world where words like decency and morality are thrown about like a nickel and dime store slogan, it seems they have no actual meaning. The words have become bankrupt. (At least when benchmarked against behaviour.)
But really, the whole night had a miserable tinge to it. I could sense there was trouble afoot. It’s funny how you can almost smell it sometimes.
If it hadn’t been for the cool documentary about KISS on television, I’d be likely to say the trip was a bit of a bust.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
04/21/05 "i see you Baby... shakin' that ass..."
I ‘ve had a weird day. I spent the early part of it wandering around Stephen Avenue handing out pamphlets. It’s amazing what lengths people will go to avoid you. I understand it though. I’m not one for people approaching me out of the blue either, and I really hate it when they want something from me.
Stephen Avenue is a neat place. It’s the best mix of what Calgary has to offer in terms of its denizens. There are white-collar pretty people, the subjugated blue collars, and a strange mix of the infirm, and those trying to shake down all of the previously mentioned.
I saw a guy today trying to pick up women on the avenue. He had long greasy hair, and felt that his physical attributes permitted him to negate the employment of a shirt. (A second opinion here would have been the wiser course of action…) He did however seem to think that an ill-fitting nylon jacket (unzipped) would aid in advancing his cause. He looked like a wrestler, not WWE style mind you, more like those wannabes that play in trailer parks and motor inns.
This was his clever pick up technique.
Wrestler Dude: Hey baby… (Whistle) How about some of that? Come on baby… Hey… don’t walk away baby… aw come on… where are ya going?
I think he may have set gender relations back about a decade.
From what I could tell, his success ratio was clocking in at just under zero. Well done… Well done indeed.
I spent the better part of the day chewing on some sad news. A friend of my family’s has fallen in with his demons. The anti-hero of this story is a 55-year-old man who had everything, and then pissed it all away. He had an amazing job that paid him handsomely. (Truthfully it was a king’s ransom to most of us average folks.)
Then he discovered crack. (Which really is the devil’s right hand.) His whole life collapsed.
He lost his job, his wife, and worst of all, his soul. This really makes me believe that the concept of “recreational use” is really quite a risky business proposition. Once you let that demon out of the box, nothing but a world of chaos remains. I’m glad that’s a lesson learned vicariously.
Erin and I went to the movies with my sister. It was great to see her. It’s been a while. I miss her; she has a gentleness that is quite calming. As far as siblings go she’s a kick ass sister. I haven’t always been the best brother, but I’m trying to get better at it. I hope she knows that.
She amazes me. She always remembers birthdays, and special occasions. She always has a little gift, and it’s always thoughtful. She takes the time to do the little things. She is a rock star.
Tomorrow I’m going to Cranbrook. I haven’t been there for years. The last time I was there, things didn’t go so well. That was my fist ever road gig. It sucked. I sucked. (There was a lot of suckage…) Ironically I’m going with the same headliner. I don’t have any expectations at this point. My plan is just to stand there and do my shit. Come what may.
I found out this week that I’m going to Saskatoon and Regina with my friend Daniel Rock. This pleases me greatly. He is really one of my most favorite people on the planet. He’s one of the few souls in my life whose advice isn’t taken with a grain of salt.
I know he dislikes the fact that I don’t email him, but I hate email. This blog (initially at least…) was designed so I could tell the people I care about what is happening with me. He was one of the principle folks I had in mind at the time. (Sort of like those family newsletters you get at Christmas… but no one is wearing a shitty reindeer sweater…)
Anyway that’s it for now…
Stephen Avenue is a neat place. It’s the best mix of what Calgary has to offer in terms of its denizens. There are white-collar pretty people, the subjugated blue collars, and a strange mix of the infirm, and those trying to shake down all of the previously mentioned.
I saw a guy today trying to pick up women on the avenue. He had long greasy hair, and felt that his physical attributes permitted him to negate the employment of a shirt. (A second opinion here would have been the wiser course of action…) He did however seem to think that an ill-fitting nylon jacket (unzipped) would aid in advancing his cause. He looked like a wrestler, not WWE style mind you, more like those wannabes that play in trailer parks and motor inns.
This was his clever pick up technique.
Wrestler Dude: Hey baby… (Whistle) How about some of that? Come on baby… Hey… don’t walk away baby… aw come on… where are ya going?
I think he may have set gender relations back about a decade.
From what I could tell, his success ratio was clocking in at just under zero. Well done… Well done indeed.
I spent the better part of the day chewing on some sad news. A friend of my family’s has fallen in with his demons. The anti-hero of this story is a 55-year-old man who had everything, and then pissed it all away. He had an amazing job that paid him handsomely. (Truthfully it was a king’s ransom to most of us average folks.)
Then he discovered crack. (Which really is the devil’s right hand.) His whole life collapsed.
He lost his job, his wife, and worst of all, his soul. This really makes me believe that the concept of “recreational use” is really quite a risky business proposition. Once you let that demon out of the box, nothing but a world of chaos remains. I’m glad that’s a lesson learned vicariously.
Erin and I went to the movies with my sister. It was great to see her. It’s been a while. I miss her; she has a gentleness that is quite calming. As far as siblings go she’s a kick ass sister. I haven’t always been the best brother, but I’m trying to get better at it. I hope she knows that.
She amazes me. She always remembers birthdays, and special occasions. She always has a little gift, and it’s always thoughtful. She takes the time to do the little things. She is a rock star.
Tomorrow I’m going to Cranbrook. I haven’t been there for years. The last time I was there, things didn’t go so well. That was my fist ever road gig. It sucked. I sucked. (There was a lot of suckage…) Ironically I’m going with the same headliner. I don’t have any expectations at this point. My plan is just to stand there and do my shit. Come what may.
I found out this week that I’m going to Saskatoon and Regina with my friend Daniel Rock. This pleases me greatly. He is really one of my most favorite people on the planet. He’s one of the few souls in my life whose advice isn’t taken with a grain of salt.
I know he dislikes the fact that I don’t email him, but I hate email. This blog (initially at least…) was designed so I could tell the people I care about what is happening with me. He was one of the principle folks I had in mind at the time. (Sort of like those family newsletters you get at Christmas… but no one is wearing a shitty reindeer sweater…)
Anyway that’s it for now…
Monday, April 18, 2005
04/18/05 The Monkey That Finally Got Off My Back...
The Saturday shows worked out nicely. They came together really well. The first show was fantastic. There were 340 people, and there was this electric feeling in the air. You could feel it, it was a brilliant tension. When I walked off stage, Denise, and Carol, (the two people who helped me the most over the years…) were beaming… and that just made the whole thing more amazing for me. I wish that Brett had been there, he would have loved it.
The second show wasn’t as good, but it was still pretty solid. It felt great to take on the crowd and win. After a very long time, I managed to stake my claim on that stage. I proved that I belong there. (I always knew… But I’ve had some detractors… and they needed to know too.) There are new goals placed ahead of me now. Look out planet, I got some shit to say, and it’s gonna be loud.
I wrote a couple of new jokes on stage, and they came out effortlessly. There is this real, and very natural feel to them. I have found a new, more playful way, and it’s really helping to flesh out my personality. I’m really excited to keep throwing new stuff out. I feel like I’m on a roll.
Freddy was did guest spots all weekend. I really enjoyed hanging out with him. He makes me laugh. I think it’s because he mutters, and somehow it’s usually funny. He’s a strange, curiously distracted man.
Anyway I’m tired and need to sleep.
The second show wasn’t as good, but it was still pretty solid. It felt great to take on the crowd and win. After a very long time, I managed to stake my claim on that stage. I proved that I belong there. (I always knew… But I’ve had some detractors… and they needed to know too.) There are new goals placed ahead of me now. Look out planet, I got some shit to say, and it’s gonna be loud.
I wrote a couple of new jokes on stage, and they came out effortlessly. There is this real, and very natural feel to them. I have found a new, more playful way, and it’s really helping to flesh out my personality. I’m really excited to keep throwing new stuff out. I feel like I’m on a roll.
Freddy was did guest spots all weekend. I really enjoyed hanging out with him. He makes me laugh. I think it’s because he mutters, and somehow it’s usually funny. He’s a strange, curiously distracted man.
Anyway I’m tired and need to sleep.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
04/16/05 "Here we are, the Princes of the Universe..."
Thursday was huge pile of stinky flaming crap. Smoke free night at Yuk Yuks. It sucked. How one show could suck so much is beyond my comprehension. The crowd was bad, (Again!!!) In fact they were really fucking bad. I wish I could say it was my fault; at least that way there might some explanation for their temperament. The show pretty much ended the way it began, with a (quiet, alone, hiding in the dark kind of) whimper.
Last night was much better. In the first show I had a solid set. After a couple of bad shows, it was nice to get that monkey off my back. I felt it was a little wordy in spots, but overall it went really well. The second show kicked ass. The audience was quite rowdy, but I managed to turn that into big laughter quite quickly. I had to smack down a heckler, but it took only one tap, and it was done. He decided early in our confrontation that it was a brighter idea to sit quietly and behave for me. After that, the show was all gravy. The M.C on the other hand, was less than impressed with the audience, and seemed to get a little belligerent after the show.
I understood his point of view, and in spirit I was right there with him, but it served no purpose to get uppity about it. The damage was done, and nothing could change that. Friday late show crowds are always loud and obnoxious. It doesn’t matter where you are in the country; Friday late shows always have the potential to get out of hand. It’s a fact, and just one of the many hazards of the job. Sure it’s frustrating, but it shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.
Actually, he’s a bit of an odd duck. There is a lot of anger brewing inside him. Half the time, he comes off as cold, and speaks only when he’s been spoken too. Then he changes, and becomes chatty. It’s like a little switch has been flipped. I’m not sure if he’s shy, or just a dick. Oddly though, I like the guy. Maybe it’s because I see a fair amount of myself in him. The biggest difference between us is that I have managed to quell some of the bitterness, and he is enveloped by it.
Onto other stuff…
The diet is still going well. I haven’t had a much of a chance to work out this week, but I will get back at it with earnest on Sunday. I’m feeling really good. I’ve gotten stronger, and better still, my appetite has diminished to something more reasonable…
To reward myself for staying true to the diet, I bought myself a pair of old school Vans skate shoes. I love them. They are sooooo comfy. I’d forgotten how much I love them.
Next…
There’s a new band (to me anyway…) called Bloc Party. I like them. They’re quite heavy, but have really catchy melodies. There is a lot of big woody sounding bass and loud crisp, snappy drums. If you like Yo la Tengo, Fugazi or Superchunk, then this is a disc for you.
Now to the strange…
Apparently, last night there was a man shot by the police here in Calgary. According to the newspaper, he was wielding a sword. That’s a little nutty. What kind of person carries a sword? (Excusing the historical context for a minute…) Perhaps he watched too many episodes of “The Highlander.” (I would argue that any number greater than 1 episode is too many… but I digress…) Anyway he got shot. I’m not sure I’d blame a cop for shooting him. The poor bastard probably needs to be put out of his misery.
Anyway, that’s it for now.
End of Transmission
Last night was much better. In the first show I had a solid set. After a couple of bad shows, it was nice to get that monkey off my back. I felt it was a little wordy in spots, but overall it went really well. The second show kicked ass. The audience was quite rowdy, but I managed to turn that into big laughter quite quickly. I had to smack down a heckler, but it took only one tap, and it was done. He decided early in our confrontation that it was a brighter idea to sit quietly and behave for me. After that, the show was all gravy. The M.C on the other hand, was less than impressed with the audience, and seemed to get a little belligerent after the show.
I understood his point of view, and in spirit I was right there with him, but it served no purpose to get uppity about it. The damage was done, and nothing could change that. Friday late show crowds are always loud and obnoxious. It doesn’t matter where you are in the country; Friday late shows always have the potential to get out of hand. It’s a fact, and just one of the many hazards of the job. Sure it’s frustrating, but it shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.
Actually, he’s a bit of an odd duck. There is a lot of anger brewing inside him. Half the time, he comes off as cold, and speaks only when he’s been spoken too. Then he changes, and becomes chatty. It’s like a little switch has been flipped. I’m not sure if he’s shy, or just a dick. Oddly though, I like the guy. Maybe it’s because I see a fair amount of myself in him. The biggest difference between us is that I have managed to quell some of the bitterness, and he is enveloped by it.
Onto other stuff…
The diet is still going well. I haven’t had a much of a chance to work out this week, but I will get back at it with earnest on Sunday. I’m feeling really good. I’ve gotten stronger, and better still, my appetite has diminished to something more reasonable…
To reward myself for staying true to the diet, I bought myself a pair of old school Vans skate shoes. I love them. They are sooooo comfy. I’d forgotten how much I love them.
Next…
There’s a new band (to me anyway…) called Bloc Party. I like them. They’re quite heavy, but have really catchy melodies. There is a lot of big woody sounding bass and loud crisp, snappy drums. If you like Yo la Tengo, Fugazi or Superchunk, then this is a disc for you.
Now to the strange…
Apparently, last night there was a man shot by the police here in Calgary. According to the newspaper, he was wielding a sword. That’s a little nutty. What kind of person carries a sword? (Excusing the historical context for a minute…) Perhaps he watched too many episodes of “The Highlander.” (I would argue that any number greater than 1 episode is too many… but I digress…) Anyway he got shot. I’m not sure I’d blame a cop for shooting him. The poor bastard probably needs to be put out of his misery.
Anyway, that’s it for now.
End of Transmission
Thursday, April 14, 2005
04/14/05 Just a quick note.
I worked out tonight, but I found it hard to get into a groove. I spent 30 min on the bike, but I just couldn’t find a comfortable pace. I was somewhat distracted, and my legs were a little bit stiffer than I would have liked.
So far I seem to be doing well with my diet and workout routine. It’s not hard, quite the opposite actually. I haven’t really had many cravings, and I get to eat what I like, just in smaller portions. I find I’m not as hungry as I used to be. I needed to use a tighter notch on my belt today. It’s nice to see a little bit of payoff.
I’m feeling physically stronger than I have in a long, long time. I’m getting that satisfactory ache in my muscles, the kind you get after some good exercise. I feel like I’m accomplishing something. Hopefully I’ll be back to my old weight in no time flat. (The toning doesn’t hurt either.)
I said that this would be the year of changes, and so far so good. My new, and healthier attitude is affecting more and more parts of my life. (And I’ve never had this much soup before…)
Tonight, I’m performing at Yuks. I’m the middle guy. I can’t wait. I haven’t been on stage for 30 minutes for quite some time. I’m gonna have a blast.
More to come.
So far I seem to be doing well with my diet and workout routine. It’s not hard, quite the opposite actually. I haven’t really had many cravings, and I get to eat what I like, just in smaller portions. I find I’m not as hungry as I used to be. I needed to use a tighter notch on my belt today. It’s nice to see a little bit of payoff.
I’m feeling physically stronger than I have in a long, long time. I’m getting that satisfactory ache in my muscles, the kind you get after some good exercise. I feel like I’m accomplishing something. Hopefully I’ll be back to my old weight in no time flat. (The toning doesn’t hurt either.)
I said that this would be the year of changes, and so far so good. My new, and healthier attitude is affecting more and more parts of my life. (And I’ve never had this much soup before…)
Tonight, I’m performing at Yuks. I’m the middle guy. I can’t wait. I haven’t been on stage for 30 minutes for quite some time. I’m gonna have a blast.
More to come.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
04/10/05 More Stuff About Me...
Some more things about me:
1) My favorite colour is maroon. (With a little more red than purple…)
2) My new favorite food is Chicken Shawarma.
3) I've switched to Camel lights.
4) My favorite movie villain is Darth Vader.
5) My favorite scotch is Laphroag.
6) I have never been “a little bit country.”
7) I hate Microsoft. (More than most…)
8) I love table hockey. Air hockey is good too.
9) I ate a “Lean Cuisine” frozen meal tonight. (It wasn't great… but so far it hasn't killed me…)
10) There is a pack of “Spiderman” brand candy cigarettes on my bookshelf. They've been there since last April. My friend
Michelle gave them to me. They will likely be there next April.
11) I have never purchased a Pez dispenser, and yet I have about 10 of them.
12) I like really dry books. (How many of you have a copy of “The Letters of Marshall McLuhan” in your collection?)
13) Few things beat a good documentary.
14) I have been in my apartment over a year, and there are still boxes that have been unopened.
15) My favorite comic book hero is Hellboy.
16) I have a really cool younger sister. Her name is Charlotte.
1) My favorite colour is maroon. (With a little more red than purple…)
2) My new favorite food is Chicken Shawarma.
3) I've switched to Camel lights.
4) My favorite movie villain is Darth Vader.
5) My favorite scotch is Laphroag.
6) I have never been “a little bit country.”
7) I hate Microsoft. (More than most…)
8) I love table hockey. Air hockey is good too.
9) I ate a “Lean Cuisine” frozen meal tonight. (It wasn't great… but so far it hasn't killed me…)
10) There is a pack of “Spiderman” brand candy cigarettes on my bookshelf. They've been there since last April. My friend
Michelle gave them to me. They will likely be there next April.
11) I have never purchased a Pez dispenser, and yet I have about 10 of them.
12) I like really dry books. (How many of you have a copy of “The Letters of Marshall McLuhan” in your collection?)
13) Few things beat a good documentary.
14) I have been in my apartment over a year, and there are still boxes that have been unopened.
15) My favorite comic book hero is Hellboy.
16) I have a really cool younger sister. Her name is Charlotte.
04/10/05 Three Ghosts and a Cuppa Coffee...
It's 9:30pm. I'm trying something a little new. I've gone to a café to write. I'm hoping that the different stimuli will encourage me. This place has a bohemian meets corrugated steel kind of feel to it. There are some quite neat black and white photos posted on the walls, and different colours everywhere. A man behind me is blowing into a digery doo. Ordinarily I'd prefer a digery don't, but right now it seems to work for me. This place has a comfort to it. It's not sterile, but it's not like a jungle here either.
The cafe is called “The Planet.” It kinda has a community feel to it. Artists of every variety and flavour come here to shoot the shit and fuel up on desperately needed caffeine. I used to be a regular here, but that was several years ago, before I met Erin, before Stand up became a job, and before I cared about things like RRSPs, mutual funds, and equity.
Sometimes I wish three ghosts would come and visit me. I'd like to meet the ghosts of Marcus past, present, and future. I wonder what they could offer me? What transgressions would they try to rectify? What would they help me rejoice? It's too bad that couldn't really happen (as near as I can tell…) because it would be an excellent tool to aid in the progress of human social evolution.
That would be killer… Like a Geiger counter designed to sniff out antisocial behavior, and help nip it in the bud before it became a something more, something larger and more difficult to challenge successfully. Imagine all the shit in your life that could have been stopped. The more I think about it, the more the concept flattens me.
I have started to look back a little on the things that have gotten me to here. I'm amazed that I became the man I am. There are so many things that haunt me, choices I've made (that while they have made the difference is a few cases…) I wish I could go back and spend a little more time thinking in future tense rather than past tense. A good example here would be my first marriage. I was young, and I'm not sure what I was thinking. Whatever it was, a dose of sober second thought would have been brilliant.
Currently I think I have been spending a lot of time with the ghost of Marcus present. There are some revelations that are surfacing that I'm not sure I like too much. For instance, I have discovered that I'm a rather typical male. (Happily not much of an alpha male…) I like beer and meat, with sports running a close third. (Not to mention sex and all it's glorious trappings…) I'm trying to see past the perceived failings of my gender, and rise above the things that make us stubborn, petulant, stupid, stereotypical, macho, and emotionally bankrupt.
Where I differ in most respects comes mostly from my parents. They encouraged me to seek answers wherever I could. They spent a lot of time carting me and my sister to things that would help us see the world differently. I was a museum rat just as much as I was a rink rat, and I liked a good dose of classical music along with my Dead Kennedys. (Although I would never admit to it back then…) They did so many things to try and round out our characters. They wanted us to be more than normal, more than mediocre, and I think they succeeded brilliantly.
All that stuff rubbed off really well. I have spent the last 15 years trying as many different things as possible. Just looking at the list of jobs I've done so far is telling. It's such a mixed bag of stuff. I have worked in radio, retail (mostly camera and record stores…), new media, filmmaking, market research, photography, and my favorite so far, Stand up.
More importantly I have been a man with many, many hats. I have been (and likely still will be… as least most of them…) a friend, a best friend, a lover, a boyfriend, a husband, a lifesaver, a person in need of saving, a villain, a hero, a radical, an enemy, a bastard, and a prince. (Not to mention Rock Star, and Prophet… but those are new… and they need to be broken in a little more…)
Those are the real Lego blocks of my personality. Those are the things that have the most value to me. They have made a curious shape to me. So far so good I guess.
I'm excited to meet the next ghost. Marcus future should have some interesting things to say.
End of Transmission
The cafe is called “The Planet.” It kinda has a community feel to it. Artists of every variety and flavour come here to shoot the shit and fuel up on desperately needed caffeine. I used to be a regular here, but that was several years ago, before I met Erin, before Stand up became a job, and before I cared about things like RRSPs, mutual funds, and equity.
Sometimes I wish three ghosts would come and visit me. I'd like to meet the ghosts of Marcus past, present, and future. I wonder what they could offer me? What transgressions would they try to rectify? What would they help me rejoice? It's too bad that couldn't really happen (as near as I can tell…) because it would be an excellent tool to aid in the progress of human social evolution.
That would be killer… Like a Geiger counter designed to sniff out antisocial behavior, and help nip it in the bud before it became a something more, something larger and more difficult to challenge successfully. Imagine all the shit in your life that could have been stopped. The more I think about it, the more the concept flattens me.
I have started to look back a little on the things that have gotten me to here. I'm amazed that I became the man I am. There are so many things that haunt me, choices I've made (that while they have made the difference is a few cases…) I wish I could go back and spend a little more time thinking in future tense rather than past tense. A good example here would be my first marriage. I was young, and I'm not sure what I was thinking. Whatever it was, a dose of sober second thought would have been brilliant.
Currently I think I have been spending a lot of time with the ghost of Marcus present. There are some revelations that are surfacing that I'm not sure I like too much. For instance, I have discovered that I'm a rather typical male. (Happily not much of an alpha male…) I like beer and meat, with sports running a close third. (Not to mention sex and all it's glorious trappings…) I'm trying to see past the perceived failings of my gender, and rise above the things that make us stubborn, petulant, stupid, stereotypical, macho, and emotionally bankrupt.
Where I differ in most respects comes mostly from my parents. They encouraged me to seek answers wherever I could. They spent a lot of time carting me and my sister to things that would help us see the world differently. I was a museum rat just as much as I was a rink rat, and I liked a good dose of classical music along with my Dead Kennedys. (Although I would never admit to it back then…) They did so many things to try and round out our characters. They wanted us to be more than normal, more than mediocre, and I think they succeeded brilliantly.
All that stuff rubbed off really well. I have spent the last 15 years trying as many different things as possible. Just looking at the list of jobs I've done so far is telling. It's such a mixed bag of stuff. I have worked in radio, retail (mostly camera and record stores…), new media, filmmaking, market research, photography, and my favorite so far, Stand up.
More importantly I have been a man with many, many hats. I have been (and likely still will be… as least most of them…) a friend, a best friend, a lover, a boyfriend, a husband, a lifesaver, a person in need of saving, a villain, a hero, a radical, an enemy, a bastard, and a prince. (Not to mention Rock Star, and Prophet… but those are new… and they need to be broken in a little more…)
Those are the real Lego blocks of my personality. Those are the things that have the most value to me. They have made a curious shape to me. So far so good I guess.
I'm excited to meet the next ghost. Marcus future should have some interesting things to say.
End of Transmission
Saturday, April 09, 2005
04/09/05
It's late, and as per usual, I'm sitting in front of the computer, trying to exorcise enough demons so I can close my eyes and rest. I've run myself down to a point where I actually saw stars and got a little dizzy. I'm pretty sure that's not a good sign. I had an orange and some coffee, which helped me out tremendously.
There is something tormenting me. I can't put my finger on it, but I can feel it chewing at the back of my brain. Maybe if I can figure it out, I'll begin to sleep like a little lamb.
It's 2:45, and I'm flipping channels. There isn't much on. Just a few re-runs of ancient “Just For Laughs” galas, and truly awful French soft-core porn. Either way there's a host of bad mustaches and people who generally have more hair than perhaps they should. God bless Bravo for giving the public the magical gift of ugly people fucking. (What a treat!!!) I guess any love is good love, even if it's hard to look at.
My day was shit. I was stressed to the max. A project I have been shepherding is giving me some grief. It's been a total gong show. There has been some outside interference that is making it more difficult than it really needs to be. My coworkers all noticed that I was out of sorts about it. Life would be great if we could live without external pressures. I think I need to live in a giant plastic bubble, or better yet, on an island that has not even the slightest shred of petty politics. I think I'm beginning to get a good understanding of the Amish. I'm willing to bet that besides the odd barn raising, life isn't really all that hectic around their parts. I bet they sleep better than I do too.
I think I need some time for me. I haven't really had much of it since I got back from Toronto. Any time I do get seems to be taken up by much needed sleep. I think I need a day or two of wandering around, and It's likely that I need to see some friends. For the first time in my life, all my close friends are scattered across the universe, and I am here away from them all. I'm just feeling a little lonely.
Maybe a trip to the museum would help. Feeding my brain usually helps. The physical manifestations of other people's thought, ideas, and feelings tend to ground me a little. It really doesn't matter if it's a sculpture, or a painting, or some dusty artifact, there's something about them that connects me to myself. I'm at a loss to explain why, it just does.
Maybe I look to the past for inspiration. Seeing the ingenuity of people from ancient cultures might very well be what entices me. Perhaps that requires further investigation.
I'd like to get good and stinking drunk too, but that is less likely to occur due to the new dietary restrictions.
Anyway I think I'm tired enough to crash.
End of Transmission
There is something tormenting me. I can't put my finger on it, but I can feel it chewing at the back of my brain. Maybe if I can figure it out, I'll begin to sleep like a little lamb.
It's 2:45, and I'm flipping channels. There isn't much on. Just a few re-runs of ancient “Just For Laughs” galas, and truly awful French soft-core porn. Either way there's a host of bad mustaches and people who generally have more hair than perhaps they should. God bless Bravo for giving the public the magical gift of ugly people fucking. (What a treat!!!) I guess any love is good love, even if it's hard to look at.
My day was shit. I was stressed to the max. A project I have been shepherding is giving me some grief. It's been a total gong show. There has been some outside interference that is making it more difficult than it really needs to be. My coworkers all noticed that I was out of sorts about it. Life would be great if we could live without external pressures. I think I need to live in a giant plastic bubble, or better yet, on an island that has not even the slightest shred of petty politics. I think I'm beginning to get a good understanding of the Amish. I'm willing to bet that besides the odd barn raising, life isn't really all that hectic around their parts. I bet they sleep better than I do too.
I think I need some time for me. I haven't really had much of it since I got back from Toronto. Any time I do get seems to be taken up by much needed sleep. I think I need a day or two of wandering around, and It's likely that I need to see some friends. For the first time in my life, all my close friends are scattered across the universe, and I am here away from them all. I'm just feeling a little lonely.
Maybe a trip to the museum would help. Feeding my brain usually helps. The physical manifestations of other people's thought, ideas, and feelings tend to ground me a little. It really doesn't matter if it's a sculpture, or a painting, or some dusty artifact, there's something about them that connects me to myself. I'm at a loss to explain why, it just does.
Maybe I look to the past for inspiration. Seeing the ingenuity of people from ancient cultures might very well be what entices me. Perhaps that requires further investigation.
I'd like to get good and stinking drunk too, but that is less likely to occur due to the new dietary restrictions.
Anyway I think I'm tired enough to crash.
End of Transmission
Thursday, April 07, 2005
04/07/05 Wow what a shit show...
Damn, I can't sleep again tonight. I wish I could just shut my brain off. Over the years I've tried just about everything, and nothing seems to work. I'm beginning to think the only solution would be a rubber mallet right between the eyes.
Next…
Tonight's show should best be described as a piece of shit. The audience was terrible. I watched the MC, and Matt Billon go down in flames. For some reason, I knew that this show was going to suck ass. My set really didn't help matters much. On a scale of 1-10, I'd give it a whopping fuck all… and that folks is being generous.
It amazes me how people can come to a comedy show and sit there like bored pieces of shit. I always want to ask them why they came. They just sat there, blinking, occasionally looking as if they just might have pooped their pants. Fuckers… It got so bad that at on point I told the audience, (all 100 plus…) that I would love to meet them outside. I let them know that I was willing to fight them all. Sadly, I meant every word.
It's really frustrating when you bomb, and you know it's not your fault, but how do convince that many people that it's theirs? Now I know why Bruce Cockburn wanted a rocket launcher, because those people must pay.
Okay… perhaps I've gone too far, and besides some things really are better left to my imagination. (Or at least to my inner monologue…)
At least I tried a new joke, and the mangina joke worked again, but it still needs to be streamlined. It's got a lot of promise, but there's too much fat. I have a new joke about the pope's passing too, but I deiced not to waste it on a crappy crowd.
Next…
I worked out today. I spent 40 minutes on the exercise bike. I had a really good sweat going too. Hopefully all this cardio is doing some good. I can't wait to be all lean and trim. Mostly though, I'm excited at the prospect of being able to climb a couple of flights of stairs without being winded.
Next…
Tonight's show should best be described as a piece of shit. The audience was terrible. I watched the MC, and Matt Billon go down in flames. For some reason, I knew that this show was going to suck ass. My set really didn't help matters much. On a scale of 1-10, I'd give it a whopping fuck all… and that folks is being generous.
It amazes me how people can come to a comedy show and sit there like bored pieces of shit. I always want to ask them why they came. They just sat there, blinking, occasionally looking as if they just might have pooped their pants. Fuckers… It got so bad that at on point I told the audience, (all 100 plus…) that I would love to meet them outside. I let them know that I was willing to fight them all. Sadly, I meant every word.
It's really frustrating when you bomb, and you know it's not your fault, but how do convince that many people that it's theirs? Now I know why Bruce Cockburn wanted a rocket launcher, because those people must pay.
Okay… perhaps I've gone too far, and besides some things really are better left to my imagination. (Or at least to my inner monologue…)
At least I tried a new joke, and the mangina joke worked again, but it still needs to be streamlined. It's got a lot of promise, but there's too much fat. I have a new joke about the pope's passing too, but I deiced not to waste it on a crappy crowd.
Next…
I worked out today. I spent 40 minutes on the exercise bike. I had a really good sweat going too. Hopefully all this cardio is doing some good. I can't wait to be all lean and trim. Mostly though, I'm excited at the prospect of being able to climb a couple of flights of stairs without being winded.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
04/05/05
After much nagging by my friends, and even more gnashing of my own teeth, I finally cracked. I watched Jerry Seinfeld's Comedian. I have to admit, against my own natural prejudice I enjoyed it. (I have never been a fan of Seinfeld.)
It is refreshing to see someone of that caliber in the same boat as other comics. Mind you, Seinfeld has the luxury of getting stage time whenever he wants. Not that watching him develop a new act in such a short amount of time isn't impressive, but he has the cult of personality on his side, and I suspect that audiences forgive him more quickly than they would me.
Seeing him interact with his peer group was interesting too. It reminded me of my own cadre of misfits. I guess that comics function in cells, and my cell really isn't that different. I'd like to see a documentary about us one day. Looking back at our development would be just as interesting, perhaps more so.
The best part of the documentary was watching the misery that is Orny Adams. He came off like a freight train loaded for bare, and ready to go screaming off the rails. He did not disappoint. Watching someone drown while remaining buoyant is just about as curious a thing as I can think of.
He's a fascinating mix of foolish bravado and self-loathing. Take a dash of Pachino's attitude, and add a whole lot of Woody Allen. (Just subtract the same level of talent, the geeky glasses and the Vietnamese daughter / wife…) Watching him succeed, and then implode moments later, with even more impressive grandeur is a masochist's wet dream.
I think it's neat when people fuck themselves in public, because the fireworks are always splendid. Rubber necking to get a gawk at a grisly scene like that is a treat indeed.
I shouldn't revel in someone else's misery. It's not fair of me. Fuck it… It's just too much fun. It's like a spoonful of the best honey.
On to other things…
I have started on a new health plan. I'm working out, and have adopted the Weight Watchers point system. I need to shake the weight I've gained over the last 3 years. I'm feeling very positive about these changes. I've committed myself to them, and will not stop until I have achieved success. I've heard that part of having a sound mind, is having a sound body, so a change was needed.
Over the years, I've added and shed weight like Oprah Winfrey. I'm committed to slimming down and staying that way. I've gotten tired of people telling me that I look like Drew Carey. Fuck that… (Especially when followed by “not in that way… ” Because you total mean that way, otherwise you wouldn't have tried to qualify it…)
And for those of you that have said that to me over the years, I have just one thing to say… EAT ME you evil fuckers!!! Not once have I ever told anyone of you that you just might be the dumbest fucking people on earth. (Right next to Pammy Anderson in the stupidity gene pool…) If this offends you… Good… Right back at you bitches. If there's an after life, I'm going to be waiting… and you're gonna get a kick in the collective junk. For the record, I don't care if I get a few “bad karma” points in the process. To quote Eddie Izzard, “Personally I think you are all a bunch of bastards.”
Wow, I'm angrier about that than I thought.
It is refreshing to see someone of that caliber in the same boat as other comics. Mind you, Seinfeld has the luxury of getting stage time whenever he wants. Not that watching him develop a new act in such a short amount of time isn't impressive, but he has the cult of personality on his side, and I suspect that audiences forgive him more quickly than they would me.
Seeing him interact with his peer group was interesting too. It reminded me of my own cadre of misfits. I guess that comics function in cells, and my cell really isn't that different. I'd like to see a documentary about us one day. Looking back at our development would be just as interesting, perhaps more so.
The best part of the documentary was watching the misery that is Orny Adams. He came off like a freight train loaded for bare, and ready to go screaming off the rails. He did not disappoint. Watching someone drown while remaining buoyant is just about as curious a thing as I can think of.
He's a fascinating mix of foolish bravado and self-loathing. Take a dash of Pachino's attitude, and add a whole lot of Woody Allen. (Just subtract the same level of talent, the geeky glasses and the Vietnamese daughter / wife…) Watching him succeed, and then implode moments later, with even more impressive grandeur is a masochist's wet dream.
I think it's neat when people fuck themselves in public, because the fireworks are always splendid. Rubber necking to get a gawk at a grisly scene like that is a treat indeed.
I shouldn't revel in someone else's misery. It's not fair of me. Fuck it… It's just too much fun. It's like a spoonful of the best honey.
On to other things…
I have started on a new health plan. I'm working out, and have adopted the Weight Watchers point system. I need to shake the weight I've gained over the last 3 years. I'm feeling very positive about these changes. I've committed myself to them, and will not stop until I have achieved success. I've heard that part of having a sound mind, is having a sound body, so a change was needed.
Over the years, I've added and shed weight like Oprah Winfrey. I'm committed to slimming down and staying that way. I've gotten tired of people telling me that I look like Drew Carey. Fuck that… (Especially when followed by “not in that way… ” Because you total mean that way, otherwise you wouldn't have tried to qualify it…)
And for those of you that have said that to me over the years, I have just one thing to say… EAT ME you evil fuckers!!! Not once have I ever told anyone of you that you just might be the dumbest fucking people on earth. (Right next to Pammy Anderson in the stupidity gene pool…) If this offends you… Good… Right back at you bitches. If there's an after life, I'm going to be waiting… and you're gonna get a kick in the collective junk. For the record, I don't care if I get a few “bad karma” points in the process. To quote Eddie Izzard, “Personally I think you are all a bunch of bastards.”
Wow, I'm angrier about that than I thought.
04/05/05 The Pope and Mitch... a Buddy flick...
Well it's been a few days since I've written a post, and it seems like the world has been turned upside down. Terry Schaivo dies, the Pope dies, and Mitch Hedberg dies. They (Whoever the fuck “They” are... perhaps it's the fates speaking through our collective conscious, or a wheel of psycho bullshit that spins in the back of our heads, strapped to our ID by the underpinning of hearsay and diminished capacity.) say that bad news happens in threes.
It has been a week of reflection. The leader of the faith that I was born into, who was revered as the voice of God on earth by more than a billion people faded away, his the mortal coil extinguished from existence in the most passive of ways. People from every country on the earth mourn, and truthfully I'm not sure that I care.
Was Pope John Paul the second a good man? I think so, but I disagreed with so much that he stood for. Perhaps that's okay. Did I respect him as the leader of a faith that I find I have little in common with? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll never know, maybe as I get older, my interests will change, and I'll give it further reflection.
The death of Mitch Hedberg was more shaking to me. I think it's likely because we live in the same kind of place. The same pressures he lived under surround me. I have lesser demons than his that scourge me, but at least I am able to understand. He was the macrocosm to my current microcosm.
On to other stuff…
My boss at the day job gave me a cd today. It's pretty damn fantastic. For those of you that like smoky, torchy jazz, you will really dig this album.
Madeline Peyroux - Careless Love
Anyway tomorrow is a full day, and I need some sleep. For those of you that foolishly want see me live, you should go to Yuk Yuks this Wednesday. The show starts at 8pm sharp.
End of Transmission…
It has been a week of reflection. The leader of the faith that I was born into, who was revered as the voice of God on earth by more than a billion people faded away, his the mortal coil extinguished from existence in the most passive of ways. People from every country on the earth mourn, and truthfully I'm not sure that I care.
Was Pope John Paul the second a good man? I think so, but I disagreed with so much that he stood for. Perhaps that's okay. Did I respect him as the leader of a faith that I find I have little in common with? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll never know, maybe as I get older, my interests will change, and I'll give it further reflection.
The death of Mitch Hedberg was more shaking to me. I think it's likely because we live in the same kind of place. The same pressures he lived under surround me. I have lesser demons than his that scourge me, but at least I am able to understand. He was the macrocosm to my current microcosm.
On to other stuff…
My boss at the day job gave me a cd today. It's pretty damn fantastic. For those of you that like smoky, torchy jazz, you will really dig this album.
Madeline Peyroux - Careless Love
Anyway tomorrow is a full day, and I need some sleep. For those of you that foolishly want see me live, you should go to Yuk Yuks this Wednesday. The show starts at 8pm sharp.
End of Transmission…
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