the toronto and nyc show

(to be read faster than usual, as i have typed it faster than usual.)
dear diary,
i have been extremely busy and pretty jolly the past week since returning to chicago from tornootto. i met up with the first cupholder to make landfall on monday, we were bumming around grocery shopping and what not. he mentioned to someone with some pretty sweet connections in the theatre community up here that he was looking for work. anything. well, he got called back and landed a sweet temp job working at a really nice theatre downtown. naturally, i piggy backed on him and got the job alongside him. i worked a lot last week getting to the theatre no later than 10am (a huge feat for me) but usually at 8am (beyond impossible but i did it cuz i need money like a poor man needs . . . ... i don't know i can't think of anything he might need.)
so it was great. good pay and i was working in a theatre. some of the labor was pretty intense and my old furniture moving and lawn mowing callouses have returned but it makes me feel manly. physical labor always makes me more proud than office crap. i think its accomplishing more goals in a day than trying to call up people to sell them improv shows, which only works about once every 278,000 calls. roughly.

i have rambled.
my shows in toronot and nyc were dissapointing to me. i have heard from some people who saw them that they were good but i know i am capable of better because i have done much better in other places. i can't get over something in my solo show and i don't know what it is. back in the day when i was with well hung jury and rehearsing 3 hours a week and often doing more than that, i felt pretty unstoppable. my confidence was through the roof and nothing seemes impossible on stage. i haven't felt that good about improv since i moved to chicago, ironically to improve my improv.
i knew killing the jury and moving on to something was both necessary and dangerous. it was time for us all to move on to something else and it happened rather naturally and painlessly, but i also knew that i was spoiled big time by the successes we had. we had created some of the most amazing art i had ever seen. toot toot toot. i realized toward the end of the jury's lifespan that it was likely i would never get back to that same spot. having the most extreme feeling of connection with fellow improvisers and the best of friends and making something from nothing in front of strangers who formed us into gods. it is rather spoiling. so to have those feelings and events dissappear, zapped my confidence in the face of all this competition and expectation.
that is why my shows were not what i wanted them to be in new york in tornoto.
in new york, the house was overpacked. i had a great, cushy time slot and the place had over 200 people crammed into it. i hit the stage and introduced myself. then i grabbed my audience volunteer and interviewed her. she was a good subject but i wasn't getting the usual laughs that i get during the interview. just little side comments and stuff like that. they weren't hitting like i was expecting them to when i thought them up in my brain one second earlier. i finished the interview and went into the prov. somewhere it took a strange turn for the worst when i tried to get the festival photographer to give me her camera so i could take pictures in a scene (a trick i have to admit i've used before.) it was a really nice camera and i can't blame her for not giving it to me. but i made too much of it, i started dropping improv terms about how i was just delaying the action and not able to fulfill what i had set up. I WAS DOING WHAT I HATE. which is telling jokes to improviser about improv and leaving the rest of the audience in the dark. i immediately hated myself for doing that, which was quickly followed by doubt, and an overworked central processing overload in my brain causing me to shut down and check out. then i thought about how i was overthinking and i needed to check back in. by then, the show's pace had slowed to a crawl and i assumed the audience was uninterested and not buying it. this continued throughout the 30 minute show. emotions ranging in tsunamic waves from doubt to despair to brief pouts of joy when my wit would save me. it was ugly. i felt like a piece of doo when i was done. i smiled, bowed, cleared the stage and got the hell out of there. i only hope the people i had been watching all weekend in the marathon that i respected didn't see the show. better to have no impression than a bad one.

i don't want to be saved by wit. i wanted to demonstrate skill, a mastery of improv. something i had a couple years ago, but have inexplicably put in storage. wit and quick humor are completely out of my control. it just happens. i don't want to be the guy who never does any homework, skips class, and shows up at the end to get an A on the final exam. I hate those people. they are lazy and they will never realize their full potential. being saved by a clever idea makes me feel cheap. in a lot of ways it is necessary to have if you want to be a legendary improviser, but a mastery of the laws and skills of improv coupled with a natural talent that is unworkable and unteachable is something to behold and something to aspire to. i just feel like the last couple of times i have done bigly huge i ahve let myself down by not demonstrating my full potential.
i have stopped trying to book bigly for a couple of reasons. the main one being, i am fully pushing forward with the cupholders which will hopefully be my next "well hung jury" and i think the time is no longer right. i am a nervous wreck before every performance for about 6 hours and a depressed, wallowing, compliment shark after every performance. i don't want to go up to people who i respect with my head down crying for their approval. i want their approval to shine through with lustre. "aw, that sucked, " i'll say to someone. what i'm really saying is, "i'm better than that, please don't make this your final judgement of me, say something to make me feel better, even if it's bullshit." i hate that me. i can't be that me right now and actually i don't EVER want to be that me.
the toronto show was more of the same. nerves, nerves, nerves, good interview, shotty display of skill saved by momentary blasts of wit, lights down, compliment sharking, frowns, whiskey. well, there was no whiskey in new york, but in canada it flowed like wine. i don't know why i didn't just drink the wine that was flowing. anyway, not where i want to be.

but i;m on the recovery. last night we had our first chicago cupholder rehearsal. it was me and two other dudes. it was great. we worked on some rudimentary stuff, trying to get back to basics and feel out each other's styles again. i'm very optimistic about this and i can't wait until we're all five together performing and creating gods.

tired and loving having too much work that is all IMPROV related work,
b

sometimes...

i feel like i am dragging a dead horse.
that is attached to another dead horse.
over a brambledy field.
to an unknown far-off destination.

i am getting blisters.

b.

One Sweet World

http://www.suntimes.com/output/news/cst-nws-dave25.html

Ohmigosh, Tara, you won't believe who's pooh got dumped on me yesterday!!!

get your finger out of my open wounds

So, I'm reading through a trade magazine on college entertainment and there's an announcement section where you put in new acts that you've added to your agency and awards you've received, stuff like that so you can sell your show. Here's one of the announcements: (The bold items are emboldened in the announcement. I have merely reproduced them here.)

Captain Scott Shields is director of Marine Safety for the New York Urban Parks Search and Rescue Team. He currently lives in New York with his dog, Theodore. However, he was also the owner of Bear, an 11-year old golden retriever who was involved in search and rescue efforts at the World Trade Center disaster site. In his presentation, Shields talks about Bear's work, as well as the importance of the work of all search and rescue canines and what the dogs can teach us in the aftermath of the 9/11 tragedy. Bear was ultimately recognized by the US Army; by the Queen of England's House Guard, which composed music in his honor; by two states that issued proclamations declaring special days in his name; and received Hero Dog of the Year Award from the International Cat Association.

Let's examine this section by section shall we?

"Captain Scott Shields is director of Marine Safety for the New York Urban Parks Search and Rescue Team."
When we read this we can only assume the worst. The words New York, Safety, Rescue, and Captain on their own bring about images of 9-11 already. We can only hope that this listing is not an attempt to exploit the events of 9-11. And if we were to hope that, we would be wrong.

"He currently lives in New York with his dog, Theodore."
Alright, there's New York again. And once again in bold in case you missed the first sly reference to 9-11. And why are we hearing about his dog as if it were his wife and kids? He currently lives in New York with his wife and three kids? No, just a dog. And not even the dog this listing is about. Go figure that one out.
"However, he was also the owner of Bear"
The important word in this sentence is WAS but that's not what was bold. WAS. He doesn't even own Bear any more. Just Theodore. Poor Theo can't even eat his food by himself. All he hears about all day long is how great Bear was. "Bear could do this," Well, Bear used to touch me like that," "Bear WAS a hero."

"an 11-year old golden retriever who was involved in search and rescue efforts"
Involved? What do you mean he was INVOLVED in the search and rescue efforts? I need some facts. I can't just take your word for this. Its too nebulus.

"at the World Trade Center disaster site."
And there it is, the first official mention of 9-11. Thanks for reminding us that there was a disaster site there. As if the 5 days of television imagery was not enough.
"In his presentation..."
Uhp, there it is. He's trying to cash in on the lecture series' that go around to college with helpful and interesting lectures about whatever topic, like talking about a dog you used to own. Cha-ching.

"Shields talks about Bear's work"
Wait a minute. You mean the dog isn't even going to be there? I don't want to hear this guy describe what the dog was doing without him being there. "Here's more slides of something that happened 3 years ago that was terribly tragic that you hired me to come talk about. I'm making $3.00 a minute off of you and your sympathies. I'm a horrible person who was merely tangentially related to this tragedy. And here's a slide of Bear after a bath on the lawn. Look at him shake off that water. He WAS so handsome.

"as well as the importance of the work of all search and rescue canines and what the dogs can teach us in the aftermath of the 9/11 tragedy."
I'm just dying to know what a dog can teach me about counter-intelligence and going to war for oil. And thanks for dropping the 9-11 bomb. This is in case you've been reading this announcement and have not yet realized what it is about. What do they mean World Trade Center disaster site? What's that? Oh, 9-11. Now it makes sense.

"Bear was ultimately recognized by the US Army"
Private, get this dog out of here. He's trying to eat my pants right off my leg.

"by the Queen of England's House Guard, which composed music in his honor"
Now, I've never heard of the Queen's House Guard. I don't know if its prestigious but it sounds bunk. To jump right from the US Army to the Queen of England's House Band sounds like they're stretching for accolades.

"by two states that issued proclamations declaring special days in his name"
How long will these two states go unnamed? Is this some kind of hook to get us to buy the lecture? Maybe if we drop 4 grand they'll tell us what the states were that honored a dog. I bet it was Alaska and Hawaii. They honored him for putting up with Captain Sheilds' ego for eleven years. "The State of Alaska decrees that January 21 shall be known as Bear Dog Day in honor of a dog from New York named Bear. And on this day, all dogs in Alaska will be made into slaves who must search through a pile of rubble in which plastic eggs filled with goodies have been placed by their owners. Then everyone in Alaska is required to go out and buy something to help the economy in honor of spending money in the wake of 9-11.
Can't these states come up with more important things to do like WATCH OUT FOR TERRORISTS!!!

"and received Hero Dog of the Year Award"
Hero Dog of the Year? I'd like to see the list of previous Hero Dogs of the Year.1987 - Spuds McKenzie for his work in the filed of advertising, 1963 - Lassie for her work on TV's "Lassie" and her less-publicized contributions to cold fusion, 1995 - Spitz for not chewing on his owners slippers one morning. And to this year's winner, Bear. A dog with a Bear's name and an elephant's heart. For his work after being conditioned to find things that smelled like something just like every other dog is cabable of doing. For putting up with Captain Sheilds' huge ego for eleven years. And lastly, for not peeing on Jay Leno when Captain Sheilds and his ego showed slides of the tragic events of 9-11 on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno.

"received Hero Dog of the Year Award from the International Cat Association."
From the who? the what? Well, he must be a hell of a Hero for CATS to award him this prestigious honor. And three questions; Why is it International? Why would a cat give out such an award? And why is there an association of cats making these decisions? Or, is it people who own cats making hhuman-type decisions on behalf of cats. Are they their lawyers? I'm very confused.

A dog named bear given an award by a cat. Hmm. Really makes you think.

I wonder what wisdom my dog has about the aftermath of the 9/11 tragedy. Maybe she could shed some light on this. Nope, just a dog. Not a person capable of understanding 9-11 or what it means to be a hero or to be labeled a hero falsely.

Call me touchy, but I get a little sensitive and critical when people try to pull on my heartstrings for their own fiscal benefit. Don't put your finger in my gaping wound so I buy your pain relief medicine. Stay away from things that are sacred and respect everyone who perished in this event, the most amazing and awful thing to ever happen to the United States of America. And I don't want to speak for everyone but I'm sure its around the top of the list for a lot of American's worst days of US history. I don't know, Kennedy Assassination, Lincoln's Assassination, Pearl Harbor. What am I leaving out? All these events are not as deadly, calculated, and sudden as what happened that morning. I can't forget it. I hope we don't forget it for a while. It would just be nice if people wouldn't keep its memory alive by cramming it down my throat with capitalist endeavours. This listing makes me sick and I hope this guy gets eaten by a shark on a fact-finding mission for the New York Department Of Marine Safety Heroes Board of New 9-11 York.

May he die soon and may the rest of us sleep well the night he does.

more to come,

b

Goodnight, Sweet Prince.

tornontotntonrtno photo post

Every time I try to write tornonto I mistype it. Try it. It's hard, eh?


Here is Detroit from the Ambassador Bridge which joins the US and Canada. I was surprised how small and spare Detroit was. I've been more impressed by a lot of other cities.


Here is a car that was WAY on fire at an exit ramp in Toronto. The heat of the fire rushed into the van as we drove by with the window down to get a good picture. Pretty amazing site.


GO CANADA GO! Go grab your wallet. Now open it and give me the contents. GO Guy (pronounced Gee with a hard G) GO!!!


This from on the Ambassador Bridge going back into the US. I meant to take a picture of the factories and nasty smog off to the east, but I think I moved the camera before it took. It ended up a great picture anyhoos.


Here's a picture I took while driving into the sunset. I'm not sure what that blemish is. I think there was something on the lens.

Weeeeell, that's all the photos I took that were decent enough to post. (I'm naked and having mineral water poured over me in all of the other ones. All 78 of them)

Stay tuned for the big post on: the toronto show, the new york show, a heroic dog from 9-11, falling in love, and the chair i am sitting in.

b

Got the new business checks today...

Stand back, you may get splashed on.

Ahh, its so rare that running out of room provides such a great ending. now i have a check card that ends in "impro" and checks that end in "improv come."
hopefully, that's how all of our shows will end too; gooey and full of life.

alright, i've told enough hilarious jokes about this hilarious situation. be back soon with a huge entry about the toronto show, the new york show, a heroic dog from 9-11, falling in love, and the chair i am sitting in.

b

if only something great were happening right now.

anyone want to lay next to me in bed tonight? i won't even really touch you or nothing. it would just be nice. it would just be nice. here's what i looked like in toronotnotonto. more to come on the morrow. but for now, anyone just ring the bell and i'll let you in. you can even stay fully clothed and on top of the blanket. i will be nkaed and under the blanket and if i do accidentally touch you it will be with soft, sanitary touch of a comforter. COMFORTER. anyone?

they can't all be sad.

I was watching Shop Til You Drop earlier today on the PAX network. I can't wait until the day that someone actually drops. I'm sure it will be one of the overweight moms from the curly haired duo. Or maybe it will be the "team with the minorities." Either way, its sure to be a good chuckle the day that someone really does drop.
The funniest part might be the look on the host's face. He'll look for a producer, "Uh..." and then he'll throw his cue cards into the air and say, "well, someone finally dropped. We've achieved our goal. We can stop shopping now." And then he'll walk off stage and a crane shot will take us out as the other non-dropped contestant kneels down to support the head of their fallen comrade. They might even look to the sky and scream something. Something like, "NOOOOO," or "Debbie," or "Consumerism."
I'll be watching tomorrow and if I had Tivo, I just might record the best moment in television history provided it happens tomorrow.

still watching my metaphorical water polo match,
b

Today...

is the first day of the rest of your life.

Technically, every day is the first day of the rest of your life but the phrase can really ring true when things take a big turn. When something hugely bad happens and the dust settles a bit and you think to yourself, "boy, tomorrow's going to really suck." And the more you think about it, the more you can't picture a day in the future when things won't suck. For me, things are really going to be different starting right now.

I've never had anyone really close to me die but I assume the closest feeling I can have is the one I feel right now. De Bebe called it quits on our relationship yesterday.
I've been slowly regaining my footing over the last couple days. It was like a shot of freezing cold water in the face.
It was like a pin shot through me and deflated all the necessary organs in my torso leaving only the brain to think about how it felt.
It was like being in a hot air balloon that was rising and rising, the view getting more and more beautiful every day, leaving the earth and all its troubles and other potential mates behind, a clear picture of a perfect space coming into focus, something so far above and away from everything else as to make the else inconsequential. All else fades and a warm, serene embrace that will last until you find your grave remains. It was like that except the balloon burst and I was sent hurtling back to the ground. I'm still falling back to Earth I think as this love had taken me higher than any other. If it weren't for the Cupholder clan arriving this week, I'd be sure to shoot straight through the Earth's crust trapping myself and everything I live for in the unrelenting grasp of the rock cycle.
It was kinda like that.
There's so much I want to write about. All I can think of are things we did together, great things. To list them would make me and anyone who knows us just cry way too much. I'll spare myself and anyone reading this that trouble.
And as is common, times of extreme stress and mild depression bring out some of the best material. It's unfortunate, but I seem to really crack myself up when things are at their worst. I've been sitting on the couch watching the Olympics for the last three days and every once in a while I'll crack a smile at something that makes me laugh. Something will happen or someone will say something on TV that will spur a joke in my head and I'll smile our maybe even laugh out loud. But this moment that I have grown so close to in my life is followed by an unusual response. Not the typical slow descent from extreme joy to contentment that always follows a laugh. Instead, the emotion shoots right past the middle ground and plummets all the way down to despair. There is no one around to share in this moment of joy. I have created something that no one can appreciate and share with me. It's every artist's nightmare. And it's often when they create their best work.

So I never thought that the aforementioned cliche about today and the rest of your life would apply so directly to the way I feel. But here I am, thinking it over and over again as I lay on the couch watching water polo at 4am, trying to fall asleep on the apartment's second best bed, while the love of my life sleeps alone in the next room. Thinking of what, I don't know. I know what I'm thinking of. "What's next for me?"
AND "I didn't water polo could be this exciting."

Today did suck and the days are going to suck for a while.
Get used to depressing posts with no comedy. Sorry to wrap you up in all of this. It's just the times.

i remain,
b

priceless

http://abcnews.go.com/sections/scitech/US/segway_030819.html

WHAT?
WHY?
How does this give you an advantage over any criminal element? I can't think of one instance where this would be useful. maybe if you were chasing someone and wanted them to laugh so hard they couldn't run. maybe then. but is it really worth the thousands of dollars cities are spending?
well, you know what i say, if it makes people laugh, the cost is unimportant.

laugh away, my friends. laugh away.

b

sorry, mom

sorry, dad

WTF, Toronto bumped me?

TO THE HEADLINING ACT.
Ha.
Can you believe it? I'm headlining a big festival all by myself. True, the previous two headliners, one from France and one from L.A. (kind of like France), bailed out and I was third in line, but hey, the rule of thirds means I'm the best choice anyway, right?
Ahhhhh. I feel I have attained something. I can stop performing now. Something I've been wanting to do forever. Denis Rodman always said that if he ever got 50 rebounds in a single game that he would just quit and leave the stadium in the middle of the game and never come back. This is kind of like that.
Only completely different.

Tonight, I sleep with a smile.

b




go cubs.

idea

i wish i had the skill and resources of a sweet photographer guy that can develop his own film in his own dark room, with his own hands. sadly, i am no longer allowed to use my own hands, and have attached these as a means to get by. luckily, they type faster than my old ones.
ANYWAY, the idea is to get on a subway at the end of the line, get off at each stop and take a picture before the next train comes, a picture of anything that's visible from the platform. then get on the next train and do it all over again. the beauty of this is it only costs $2 for a round trip and you get to see a lot of the city and take interesting photos. the grand idea for a great photographer with a book deal would be to do this for every line and put out a coffee table book of all the lines in chicago. and the corners of each page can be colored to denote the line color in that section of the book. then, if that does well, you go to other cities in the world and do the same thing. think of the variety you would get just on one line. you'd pass through the worst neighborhoods, the historic sections, the urban areas, the ballparks. it would be a nice thing to have on your coffee table, especially if you love that town.
well, i wish i had those skills or the time and money it would take to master them. as such, i will attempt it anyway. possibly on sunday. who knows what the result will be?

b

Jenkins Counter Update

Just a quick one.
The Jenkins counter was lightly used at the Del Close Marathon, only getting one tally mark. And the group who brought us this appearance of the last name Jenkins was from Chicago. Could it be that only troupes in the mid and southwest use the Jenkins-rule of naming? Possibly.
Strangely enough the last name Jensen was used on two occasions by two different groups from Chicago. Close but not quite Jenkins. I think we may be moving into a Jensen era and I'm just not "in the know" yet. But, you know, I tend to resist new trends and flash-in-the-pan chicness. If we are in fact moving into a new place where Jenkins is not the most commonly used last name in improv scenes, I may have to quit performing.
Jenkins count is up to 5.

b

NYC subway experience

I had the most hilarious subway experience the first time I ever rode the NY subway last week. I got on at the end of the line in Queens, which means I had to sit for a few inexplicable minutes. A young man entered and sat opposite a pretty hot girl about the same age. He started talking to her about how tired he was from running, something about running from the cops because his car has too much horsepower, 519. "500 is the legal street limit in New York." He had the most stereotypical NY accent you could think of. He proceeded to hit on the girl. She took it all in stride, very relaxed about the whole thing, not nervous or anxious about how a total stranger was talking to her about his car. Throughout the pretty much one sided conversation it was revealed that his name was Henry and that he was Italian. Jesus, am I in a movie? But it gets better. He used to do stand up comedy and he tells her he has hundreds of Polish jokes. He tells one about changing a light bulb that illicits very little response in her. And he says "forgedabout it" every five words. "Oh, if I went to Poland, forgedabout it, I'm actually 1/4 Polish so it's cool." She got off at the third stop and he looked around and I thought he would start talking to me about his car and his brutheas (brothers.) he got off at the next stop. i don't think he was going anywhere in particular and I hope his car was alright. I hope the cars hadn't gone into the engine and removed 19 of the horsepower to make it steet legal. a living breathing stereotype.
and later, on the same trip, a strange non stereotype happened. i was sitting by the door and a stop was coming up. an early 20s-ish chinese kid with a skateboard approached the door. he started whistling and whistled all the way out the door. after he had left i kept whistling it in my head. what song is that? OH, the stranger by Billy Joel. The whistling intro. man, could this be any more perfect. Billy Joel being whistled on a subway in new york. you'd think they'd forgotten about him by now.
then, as i was leaving the subway via the stairs, about to walk out into manhattan for the first time ever, someone sang the sounds of silence behind me. what? do they only play new york musicians on the radio here. it would be like going to Austin and hearing someone whistling a lyle lovett tune on a bus, and then you go the cleaners and a chinese guy is singing "the way" by fastball. he doesn't even say anything to you. he just gets your clothes and takes your money all while singing and nodding in happy recognition of you. then you go to get a chronicle at the hideout and the owner is whistling "you were always on my mind" by willie nelson.
it would be just like that.
i miss austin. new york was great and it was nice to see steroetypes as it's always good to know they exist in true form. of course, there are no stereotypes in texas...
hehe

b

oh and also

my sister had another baby. Austin Michael [LAST NAME] was born yesterday. he's healthy and cute as hell. now, i have two nephews and i think that means i'm supposed to be having kids sometime soon. hmmmm. i think i would probably break it at this point in my life. i'd leave it out in the sun or feed it too much ice cream or force it into a life of improv. of course, i'm currently engaged in two out of three of those and i'm pretty happy. see what i mean. no matronly artistry here. yet.

obligatory "it's a boy" post.
return to your daily life.

b

nyc post 1

here is something i wrote while waiting for the marathon to start on friday.

There is a huge dog in the theatre, easily half of me. It's 4:30 pm, a half hour before the marathon starts. The theatre is sparsely populated with improv geeks grinning from ear to ear, super excited. High school aged miniature Matt Besser sits next to me. He's going through a notebook talking about notes he took during an improv workshop, describing scenes he did and the lessons he had learned to his female companion.
The theatre is tiny and huge all at once. Lights hang about 10 ft. above a thrust stage that's about a one inch raise from the floor. It seats 140 intimately and even though it's only to years old, the new space smells of history and longevity.
People are starting to pack in as a large drag queen passes in front of me nearly bumping his head on a speaker hanging from the ceiling. Bits of conversations around me reveal pans for dinner (I'll just go to McDonald's @ 2am when the crowd thins out) stories from last year's marathon (I sat here last year and I got sweat on me.)
The cool improvisers are nowhere to be found. Only the geeks, much like myself. Just like at a party. All the nerds show up early and the cool people show up so late that sometimes they don't even show up at all.
AND THEN THE MARATHON STARTED.

I have to say I was very impressed with the improv I saw Friday night. It was all pretty solid clear up to around 4am when I finally left. The New York groups brought a fresh take to things that Chicagoans really need. Chicago is stuck doing the last thing that Del Close invented before he died, while New York is using what he taught as a basis for new and great interesting things. Those are broad generalizations and it's unfair to pigeonhole two scenes of such size but on the whole, that's what I've observed. Here, we're locked into discussing "openers" that have been used by other troupes rather than letting our minds go and discover something new and of ourselves. Not just a cut and paste from what our minds can remember. It seems like the New York groups I saw are invested in providing something new, yet still of Del Closes' "group" mentality. We are in a rut and they are flourishing. Not only are they flourishing but they're in a town where you can get hired by MTV or Conan or Dave to do what you love for a living during the day and do improv at night for free. In Chicago, you might get a gig on Jerry Springer chanting something. That doesnn't count. I must say I am jealous. I feel I'm in the right place and that I came to the right place, but I definitely see my career taking off in either New York or L.A. It can't happen here in Chicago without going through Second City. And while I'm touring with Cupholders and trying to make that work, I won't have time for SC. Cupholders is definitely what I want to do for now. It just better lead to something worthwhile. Something.

The marathon was a great experience for me. Although it sucked being there on my own and really not having a clue about NY, I saw a lot of good shows, plenty of bad shows, both of which are useful. My one major gripe about the festival is that every once in a while it was just a different conglomeration of the same five people from UCB. One group would leave the stage and the next one would come out with two of the same members from the last one. It just pains me considering a lot of troupes from out of town and probably in town got turned away so that these UCB guys could have another 30 minutes they didn't need. Don;t get me wrong the guys I saw repeatedly were great improvisers and I welcomed their talent. But in the spirit of it being a huge festival hosting folks from out of town and in some cases from out of the country, it just would have been nice to see a little more variety. Other than that, a stellar production, a thing of beauty, and a great concept. I hope to go back next year and I intend to submit every show I tape this year, whether it be some other BL solo thing, Cupholders, De Bebe 2 person action, or whatever, I'm submitting it and it would be nice to be one of those guys who's in 20 shows over the whole weekend.

Oh, I just thought of another gripe. After I finished my show, which I will expound upon later, I was hanging out in standing room only over by the little bar they had set up. It occurred to me that now would be a good time to drop some Bearded Lamb stickers by all the other flyers and stickers on the bar, to drum up traffic to this here blog and my site in general. So I plunked them down and continued to watch the show. Within a few seconds something tugged at me. I turned around and it was one of the UCB theatre managers. He told me that the sticker and flyer area was only for UCB shows. Well, what the hell did I just do, but a show at the UCB? Didn't I just perform for your theatre for free while you took the box office? I JUST DID A UCB SHOW, JAGOFF. I told him ok and picked up my stickers from the bar. As I was turning back around to watch the show he said, "I just don't want you to waste any of your stickers." This really got me thinking. How is this a waste of my stickers? Did he mean it would have been a waste of my stickers when he picked them up and threw them away after I had gone? That irked me a bit. All these other shows that play regularly at the theatre are allowed to drop stickers and flyers to promote their group but lord help us if a guest from out of town tries to promote himself. I'm a guest in your space, mr. manager, i get special privelages, especially when i bust my balls to perform for your paying customers. and i won't name any names because that's unprofessional.

So that's all for that.

sleep tight, blogateers. be back with more NYC stuff when i feel the angst again.

b

figures.

so the other day, both kery and bush were in the same city in iowa campaighning in the ever important swing state. three banks were robbed during their speeches. that's a pretty sweet diversion for bank robbers. no police anywhere near them because they're all making sure no one blows up the presidential candidates.
this seems so ridiculous to me. thousands of dollars are gone because these guys are so interested in garnering votes. its just weird that something like that can happen. and it pisses me off.
their campaign funds should have to cover the losses, not fdic. it's clearly why the robberies happened and more power to the bank robbers. it's just capitalism, right?

nyc posts coming soon. busy with other things.
be back shortly

b

the big NYC photo post

Here are some photos from the NY trip.
more writings coming soon...

Thanks a lot, Priceline.com. You always screw me just right.


Here's that famous bridge from the plane. . .


That big white square is the WTC site. The worst problem the attacks created is that everything in New York is blurry now.


Here's the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. It's nothing like I expected. I pictured a proscenium stage with a huge house of around 200 seats, an old movie house style. This was a thrust stage with about ten foot ceilings and a house of around 150 seats. I loved it. It was a lot more intimate than I pictured. Very tight. The thing that confused me the most was the 1/2 inch raised stage. Why bother to build a stage if it's less than a foot off the floor? Anyhow, a great venue that swelled to about 200 people during the hot parts of the marathon. And the low ceiling provided for one of the best jokes in my show. The lighting people put on a special light when I was approaching a door with extreme caution. It would have highlighted the door perfectly but it wasn't aimed at the door so i grabbed a chair and got on it to adjust the light so it was pointed in the right place. I approached the door and the light came on and the crowd went wild. Sorry, long caption. Here's the short version. UCBT - Short but Sweet theatre.


Here's a huge dog that was in the theatre at the start of the marathon. I mean, massively huge, practically a horse. I was hoping he was the official "theatre dog," but he left after the first show. Not impressed by improv I guess.


Here's a mural in Queens.


Here's me and the Hudson River after my show Sunday. I was really beating myself up about the whole thing. I will post a quite large post soon about that whole situation. but here is some water and New Jersey for now.


So these crazy people have set up their trapeze school right along the Hudson River. They have nets and wires but no brains, flipping and grabbing and floating through the air as tourists cheer them on and moan when the fail, just like my show.


Here's a kid in the subway. The crotch of his pants is below his knees. He wouldn't be able to reach his pockets without one of those sticks that has a grabbing hand on the end. I thought this trend was over but apparently it's only getting worse. Soon, the crotch of men's pants will be so low, we'll just be wearing dresses.

Well, that's the trip to NY, in picto form.
I think we sold our first show this afternoon to a University in Oklahoma but everything is not final. I just want to pin up that first dollar bill in my office so I can feel like we're actually making income.

more stuff about NYC coming soon. stay toon.

b

more diversion

here's another interesting thing that has nothing to do with my recent trip to new york. i was going through my emails from this weekend and got one that prompted me to join a classmates like high school class thingy except it's free. so i'm filling out my profile and talking about the cupholders and listing the members and the year they graduated. so it turns out that the five members of the cupholders, all Westwood grads, graduated in sequence 1997-2001. We were almost never in the same classes, just theatre i guess. its interesting that westwood, our high school, produces an improvisor once every year and that we don't feel any age frictions. probably due to the fact that ace is so mature and michael is stuck in the nineties.
of course we know that's not true, ace is not mature and michael is stuck in the eighties.

well, that's enough of that diversion. i will soon post glorious stories of a new york improv marathon visit. how i planned a glorious controversial post about what was wrong with the improv i was watching and how i fell into the same traps in my show.

all this and more is on the way...

b

they said it couldn't happen

well, i just got off the plane from new york and the del close improv marathon and i have plenty to talk about from the trip. but perhaps the thing that's burning the most in my mind right now is that nomar is a cub. finally, we have a good short stop who can also hit. oh, it's so beautiful. i know it's kind of old news but i just found out about ten minutes ago. and to sweeten the deal we only had to trade two minor leaguers and a struggling middle reliever. oh, and alex gonzalez, The Great Disappointer."
ah, beautiful for spacious skies for amber waves of garciaparra.

wild card , here we come.

be back shortly with more pertinent and interesting tid bits from new york.
b