You're Doing It Again

Holy Holiday Blitz, it's that time of year again. We climb over giftbaskets to find the amber bottles of pain killers, bop-bop-bopping across the linoleum as our rum-buttery fingers sssploork! it into the air. Why does everyone seem to be so down on medicating ourselves? It's been said hundreds of times, even if there was never a mind altering chemical or plant invented or discovered in our history, there'd still be plenty of people spinning around in the front yard claiming that they saw "God, and she looked like Jackson Browne." Do whatever you wanna do, I really don't care. But really it's not in your power to tell others what to do. Deal with you, first, then worry about how little other people think of you.

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One of the most well-known comics pretty much continued to lose his mind and composure and ran himself out of the Seattle comedy scene. He sponged off a woman for over a year, complained about all he did not have, and continuously made an ass of himself. He ended his last stint by ingratiating himself with the club and organization that helped launch him forward, and he is now back East doing Krishna-knows-what. I wish him well, but he f*cked himself time and again. Laters.

Mitch Hedberg made a recent trip through town and played a theater show. A few months back he blew up at the manager of a local club due to the manager not being forthright about ticket prices and therefore, quite likely, Mitch's pay for the weekend. Mitch stormed off-stage during the first show and did not return for the second. That was documented on his website in an apology to Seattle. So Mitch returned recently with Stephen Lynch as his opener. (Lynch is the boy-next-door guitar-playing funny man with some dark and twisted lyrics. It's funny, but don't confuse it with stand-up, which consists of spoken word and jokes). From an eyewitness account, Lynch had a great set. Mitch hit the stage and... (from my friend's e-mail) "BTW I went to the Moore and saw Mitch Hedberg……….OK he was so wasted it got to the point where he wasn’t funny and was going off on a rage and pretty much had to be cut off. I enjoyed his opener though…"
This is from Mitch's website:
"By the way, I need to do something about what happened in Phoenix. I am well aware I went over the top. I do not want a license to have shows like that but if you have it in your hearts (and you were THERE) can you forgive me for the self-indulgence?"
He goes on to offer a free show in Phoenix if they can arrange it. So there's a pattern of self-defeating behavior

A local performer also had a personality snap in her cerebellum, e-mailing Geoff Brousseau about some imagined slander against her. At the same time she's doing that, she's calling other comics looking for MY phone number, to give me basically the same message she had relayed to Brousseau. So here's a person that most people who claims in her e-mail to "know a lot of people," yet she can't figure out which Geoff is which. Brousseau's the handsome one with the luxurious dark hair, I'm the blonde one who hates women in their late 40's who have never resolved their dad issues, and we both hate cupid stunts.

So far, that's 2 comics crapping on their reputations, and one trying to use shit for Shine-ola. The first comic and I had our own little run-in. Never met Hedberg, but it's sad to think he may very well be out of comedy in a year if he continues down the road he's on. Clubs won't book him if he's freaking out every other show and can't spend one hour a day on the wagon. They'll book him, but his fee will drop considerably. The last performer, who is not funny and will not be called a comic by me, is coming unhinged.

Three comics, three near collapses. I hope that a few others will finally lose their shit and stay off the comedy radar for good. These people are pulling friggin' Kobe Bryant-sized boners out here, just f*cking themselves but good. So if nothing else, I think there are lessons to be learned here. We each carry that shoulder-riding devil, and sometimes it takes us down a few streets with a nudge, a hint, a whisper, or by nearly pulling our friggin' ear off. As adults, we must take note of when the Puckish one is talking loudest, and if you can anticipate when the little hor-ned one will come a-knockin', then congrats, you're way ahead of the games. Still, it's up to each of us to work our crap out, and ridicule those who don't.

Oh, and Tony Moser reminds me of a little something I brought back from Mexico: A Raw Ass.

Take Me Home

My Non-Funny Blog.