…And I Smell Like One Too

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Mustering up the motivation and finding worthwhile crap for this blog has been a tough task this month, but I’ve scrounged up some random things and dug deep in my couch cushions to bring you something that can quell your ADD for a couple minutes. Now if I can just keep mine at bay long enough to write the damn thing…so many shiny objects. Let’s start with this…I’m older. That’s right gang, I just turned 32. Thanks to everyone who sent along birthday wishes (and thanks to MySpace for the helpful nudging). I’ll be accepting gifts and pieces of cake shoved into envelopes here at Stately Stern Manor. I don’t ask for much on my birthday since I turned 30. Just to be in the company of good friends within two days of the birth date and that someone besides my family acknowledge it on some level…and cake. Gifts are never refused, but I haven’t actually wanted anything specific since high school. I’m pretty easy to shop for, though…

Luckily, 32 isn’t one of those birthdays that makes you feel like the guy who chose the wrong grail in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, but it is always nice to escape thoughts of impending oblivion, and what better way than to go back in time? The most reasonable facsimile, that doesn’t require slingshotting my Jeep around the Sun, is the Maryland Renaissance Festival. As per my aforementioned birthday specs, I went with my good friends Chris, Allyson, Becca, an Meagan. When I go to the Renn Fest, I go with a game plan: turkey leg for breakfast, chowder in a bread bowl for lunch, see a couple shows, throw a couple axes, guzzle a tankard of ale, and enjoy the parade of costumed freaks, dorks, and rednecks. We got there a little later than I like to, but I made a bee line for the turkey leg booth to get the day started right.

Mr Owl, how many licks does it take to get to the marrow center of a turkey leg? *CHOMP* The world may never know…

Nothing like gnawing on a roasted animal appendage to roll back the age odometer. A fun time was had by all. Things were going great until the end of the day, when I was reminded just how old I was. We were down by the castle wall rock climbing, watching Allyson dangle and sway on her safety line. The 16 year-old who was manning the station was trying to engage us in some playful renaissance banter. When one of his jokes fell flat, he actually said, “Jk”. He text talked to us…or talxted. I could feel liver spots bursting on my hands. I can understand saving time typing, but are those extra syllables really keeping you from living your life? Back in my day, we actually used whole words. I came to the conclusion that I could make a killing by opening a comedy club and calling it LOL.

I’ll leave you with some congratulations and one bit of sad news. First, a belated congrats to some of my fellow joke throwers who’ve scored some big time exposure. You may’ve seen comedy dynamo, Justin Schlegel, on your TV on Sundays as you refill your nacho cheese tub and watch your fantasy football studs snap their knee tendons. He’s starring in a series of commercials for Toyota. Here’s hoping he gets a set of floor mats.
Be sure to lock your radio dials to 98Rock after 7pm to hear the nasal dulcet tones of Joe Robinson’s new show, Irresponsible Radio. He’s on his way to becoming the King of Dundalk Media.
On to the sad news. A moment of silence for the loss of famed mime, Marcel Marceau. He had the only speaking part in Mel Brooks’ Silent Movie. His last words were…unexpected. Does anyone else find it mildly ironic that his final resting place will be in a box? The answers, my friend, are walking against the wind.

To be continued…


Late and Untitled

Hey there ‘Redheads… Once again, I’ve neglected you. And, once again, I apologize. And, yes, it’ll probably happen again. It’s nearly two weeks deep into September and a couple things worth noting have happened in and around my immediate vicinity.
First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Time flies by so quick, you blink your eyes and *poof* it’s 5768. Man, 5768…shit’s crazy. Yes, apparently Jews as a people feel so much guilt about the past, that we’ve bent time and space to escape our many neuroses. We’ve built a time machine that runs on a mother’s disappointment. We can travel to the far reaches of the 4th dimension, but we never call…we never write.
Second, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! This blog is officially two years old. It’s going to start throwing tantrums if you don’t start paying more attention to it. Usually, when this digital doodle pad hits some sort of arbitrary milestone, I make a bunch of self-important calculations and self-congratulations. Not this time. I’ve been delinquent too long to cop-out and give you some half-assed clipblog. I’d rather use my whole ass and give you something worth a couple seconds of your diverted attention.
Third, a couple of overdue somber acknowledgements. The final curtain was drawn on operatic great, Luciano Pavarotti. Let’s all wish his pallbearers a speedy recovery. So, the comedy world’s go-to reference for fat guy jokes in the 80’s and 90’s is now gone. Time to update. Might I suggest Aretha Franklin?

She has some pipes…she ate a church organ.

Speaking of which, the fat lady gave a rousing rendition of “Give My Regards to an Indifferent Audience” at Soho Tea & Coffee. The impressive four-year run of the open mic came to a close a couple weeks ago. I was one of the proud few who played the violin while the ship slowly sank into the ocean of lattes and blank stares. Chris White and Larry Poon gave rousing performances to end the evening. Big thanks to Paul Schorsch for keeping the stage going for as long as it did. Soho, we hardly knew ye.

Portait of a crappy set…

Ok, so because this is a space designated for my random thoughts, I figured I’d try to sketch out one of the bits I tried out that night. It has met with varying levels of success, but I haven’t found the right pacing or phrasing to get it where it deserves to be. So please enjoy as I slap together a skeletal structure for this bit. Any feedback is welcome and encouraged…and away we go…

We’ve gotten lazy. Language and communication is a vast natural resource, but the guy in charge of running the filter has fallen asleep. Allow me to explain. I was thumbing through the dictionary the other day (play along) and I came across the word inconspicuous, which is ironic by itself, but that’s not where I’m going. The definition for inconspicuous was…not conspicuous. Gee, thanks for clearing that up, Webster. Chances are, if I’m looking up inconspicuous, I’m not stuck on what in means…get off your stack of phonebooks and define something. Pure laziness. I blame the internet. When I was a kid, and I wanted to find out more about a word or topic, I would go to the library to find a reference book related to that word or topic. Now, kids just go online and find…porn related to that word or topic. And now they’re just adding words to the dictionary willy nilly. Jiggy is in the dictionary. I’m pretty sure Will Smith doesn’t know what jiggy means. I’m starting to realize why immigrants don’t want to learn the goddamn language. It’s getting embarrassing. They just put “ginormous” in the dictionary. If you use “ginormous”, then you are a 12-16 year old girl or you just tried to describe that picture of Aretha Franklin (I use a different tag on stage, but this is a family blog…or something). Ginormous is a combination of “giant” and “enormous”, and it, of course, means big. Here’s my major issue. The dictionary is for people who don’t know the meaning of a word…and for people who need to steady a wobbly table. If you take a look at “ginormous” and can’t immediately glean its meaning, then you don’t need a dictionary…you need a helmet and a t-shirt that says, I Hug Too Hard…spit out that Mattel toy you’ve been sucking on. If the dictionary insists on including these hip, trendy, combo words to cater to the lol generation, I’d like to suggest another combo word to help balance things out… Fucktard. Allow me to break this one down for you. It’s a combination of “fucking” and “retard” and it is primarily used to describe people who use the word “ginormous”. Use it in a sentence? I thought you’d never ask. I can’t believe some fucktard put ginormous in the dictionary.

So, what’cha think?

One last thing before I go. Three of my bestest comedy pals, Chris White, Erin Jackson, and Mike Storck have made it to the semis of the Lucky 21 contest for the HBO Comedy Festival. In order for them to advance, they need your votes. Chris has put together a short video to explain the process…

Vote away!!

To be continued…hopefully before October…