Thursday, February 5th, 2015
Before I forget to mention it I have a show tonight in LA at The World Famous Comedy Store in the Belly Room at 8pm. The C Word Show has wonderful hosts, a great line-up and it’s usually packed! $5 and a two drink minimum. Stop by, won’t you.
Well, it’s winter, everywhere else in the US, and a gorgeous 78 degrees and Sunny right here in Hollywood! Groundhog Day just happened Monday, and it seems winter lingers on, for most of the US. But not for us in California! During these months, the Chicagoan, the New Yorker, the Bostonian, likes to glorify their resilience in such harsh conditions. They fancy themselves as un-fancy, rugged and implacable in the face of Old Man Winter, whilst chiding the sun worshiping West Coaster who “can’t hack it”. Believe me, I was born in the midwest. I moved to Chicago, and endured 10 month winters and 2 month heatwaves. Yes, snow is pretty…when it first falls. After that, it sucks to drive in. It creates silly initiatives, like “dibs” (see Chicago Parking). I get it, some people just want variety. Other people lack the pigment in their skin for intense heat and prolonged exposure to the Sun. All my ‘pale people (or paleple) curse the sun, yet in their words “Fuck the snow! I’ll drive to the snow and visit it, but no way am I purposely living in it anymore.” Or maybe they’re so white, they’re dissatisfied no matter where they live. But hey…you gotta live somewhere, right? At the rate we take the Earth for granted, we might all have to endure long winters no matter where we live either, or worse…we won’t and we’ll fry.
Dismal sounding, I know. I’m rather hopeful for the future, despite a media roller coaster of emotions, regarding the evil forces pushing our environment to the brink via industry and big business, with greed always being the theme. Yet somehow, in the eleventh hour, hope and balance prevails. It’s exhausting, and frankly it’s hack. It is bad television. News is bad television. And we can’t get enough of it, and the more polarizing it is, attacking the intelligence of a large population of people, no matter where it is in the ‘divided states’, the better.
Well, maybe I don’t have to deal with the wind whipping through State St street station, standing on the El platform, falling in love with early Coldplay. Instead I’ll get into medium speed car chases with old disabled drivers that I piss off at intersections. After passing a slow left turning vehicle with a green arrow, I may or may not have said something unmean, but probably flippant, so much so that this elderly driver heard me and commenced to following me all over downtown Burbank, while I was trying to look for the fucking recycling center! After making him follow me up and down Victory Blvd (for the fun of it, I might add) I finally brought him to the very long traffic light at the IKEA. This is a transcript to the best of my knowledge, our conversation…oh, by the way, this wasn’t even my car I was driving.
EXT. – Midday-The Streets of Burbank
Old Man: Pull over!
OM: Why, are you a little chicken shit?
Me: Pull over? So you can do what?
OM: So I can show you my balls! (yes, really)
OM: Why not?
Me: Because I don’t want to see my future, just yet.
OM: You little pussy, you’re afraid I’m gonna kick your ass.
Me: Oh, well in that case, yes. I am a little pussy.
OM: Well don’t talk about yourself like that!
Me: I’m sorry I got testy with you, back aways.
OM: Thank you! That’s all I wanted to hear. Happy New Year.
Then he drove off.
I have told this story on stage at least thrice and the response is the same: “Yeah? and?”.