Ah, the power of positive titling. ‘Redheads, November started so full of promise. Two blogs in four days. Then, my usual sloth sets in and here I am apologizing to you two weeks later. So, I’m gonna try to write…tonight tonight tonight…whoa whoa. So, I have a couple cool things to report. I was hoping to have some cool pictures to go along with the report, but I missed out on a pair of prime celebrity photo ops. Instead, I’ll be peppering in some other pictures that I’ve already collected to spice up all these hum drum words.
Let’s wind back the clock to last Monday, when I had the distinct honor of paying tribute to the Class Clown, George Carlin. My dad scored some tickets to the Mark Twain Prize at the Kennedy Center. We got there about a half hour before the doors opened and we found our way to the red carpet, where the celebrity presenters were being interviewed by the various media. We got there in time to see walking mannequin, Joan Rivers, wave and attempt to smile at the amateur paparazzi that lined the hallway, snapping away with cameras and cellphones. Then came my first missed photo op, when Lewis Black walked down the aisle and was taking pictures with some people nearby. I was about three or four deep in back of the crowd, so by the time I got close enough to muster up the courage to say something to him, he was on his merry way. So, instead, here’s a picture of me with Judah Friedlander…
After we saw Denis Leary, Jon Stewart, and Lily Tomlin make their way through the media gauntlet, we decided to make our way to the main doors. While waiting for them to let us in, I ran into the only other DC comedian that I spotted that night, Brian Jett…wearing a suit…that’s like finding a filthy unicorn. There’s been some controversy over the content of the live show. The clips of Carlin that they showed seemed arbitrarily bleeped. In one clip, “shit” got through, but they bleeped out “goddamn”. And when they played the clip of the seven dirty words, it sounded like Morse code. Seems a little specious to censor a guy who did so much to point out the hypocrisy of censorship. C’mon, Kennedy Center. We’re all adults…take care of that crap in post. Aside from the heartfelt tributes, no opportunity was spared to celebrate the recent victory of Barack Obama. It’s a shame the special won’t air until April. The best line of the night went to Richard Belzer , who claimed to have gotten his hands on Obama’s inaugural address. He then spouted Arabic gibberish…classic (as I type this, he’s on The Daily Show doing the same gag).
My next chance to get snapped with a celebrity came on Saturday. Some of my dork friends and I went to the E St. Cinema to catch a sold out showing of My Name Is Bruce, which basks in the oeuvre of Mr. Evil Dead, Bruce Campbell (in case you were wondering, that’s oeuvre easy). A seemingly never-ending Fantasia broomstick army of pasty white people packed the theater to get a fix of b-movie schlock, mainlined straight into their retinas. Two bloody stumps up, by the way. If you’re at all familiar with his work, you’ll probably get a kick out of it. After the flick, Bruce came out for a Q & A session with the assembled throng. Probing questions about sequels that will never get made, obscure plot points, and hellish film shoots were fielded. Unfortunately, he did not make himself available for pictures afterward. Instead, here’s a picture of me with Henry Rollins…
I saw something today that warmed my cockles as the temperature dips below freezing. I saw a 1 in the dollar place on a gas station price board. That’ll make it easier for us to live out of our cars when our mortgages default. You’re going to want to hang on to those GMs, by the way…they’ll be collector’s items in about a month or so. I think if we’re going to bail out the auto industry, we need to lay down some strict guidelines…like 0% financing for 24 months…we’ll pay off their trade, no matter how much they owe…negative equity applies to new loan balance.
Before I get going, a mazel tov to my best buddy Seth and his wife Alison on the birth of their bouncing baby boy, Ethan. I’ll hopefully have a picture of the little pisher soon. Until then, here’s a picture of me with the Stanley Cup…
I’ll try to get another installment in before Turkey Day.
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