So I took most of the week off. Sue me. So much to discuss ...
The Super Bowl
Once the Eagles are out of it, I root for an enjoyable game. We're all big winners, except for Cardinals fans and the people who bet on the Cardinals! A few things I do wonder:
1) Uh, what happened to Brenda Warner? Back when Kurt Warner was on the Rams, this is what Brenda Warner looked like. Last night at the Super Bowl, she looked like this. For a quarter I was pretty sure that Kurt Warner had divorced his wife and then married a different woman named Brenda. Wow.
2) Uh, what happened to Steve Van Zandt? I know that most of the E Street Band is kept in cold storage (wearing the same outfit) in between gigs. I think something is wrong with Steve's chamber; maybe it was hit by a bus, and then the bus backed over it and idled for a year. And you'd think after selling out Giants Stadium 10 shows in a row, The Boss would break down and get the band dental coverage; lord knows Bruce's veneers could probably stop armor-piercing rounds.
Generally speaking, I don't get Bruce Springstein. I think his music is fine, even enjoyable. But I don't understand why there's a large cohort that worships him and would go see him in concert five days in a row at the same venue. The only way this is understandable is if the fans are from New Jersey, in which case Bruce embodies the dream of one day leaving New Jersey (i.e, "Born to Run"). That I could understand. Seeing his crotch fly at the camera in HD didn't really make me a convert, either.
3) Uh, what happened to Cuba Gooding Jr.? He looks like Miles Davis.
4) Uh, what happened to John Elway's skin? It looks like beef jerky left in the back of a hot car. Damn you, HD TV.
5) The best ending in Super Bowl history was Titans vs. Rams, where a tackle on the one yard line preserving a tie as time expired. I think this game might be in the top three; if Kurt Warner had gotten off a Hail Mary instead of fumbling, then you could probably argue that this was the best ending. Ironically, one of the most openly religious players in the league couldn't get off a Hail Mary. Maybe they should have kept Jesus in to block. Sigh.
Groundhog Day
Last year for Groundhog Day, I woke up at 1:45 a.m., went with friends to Punxatawney, then stood in bitter cold until sunrise to watch the ceremony. My girlfriend almost caught ablaze trying to warm up by a bonfire. It was fun.
This year I went jogging in short sleeves around D.C., and I still felt overheated. Not as fun, but thanks, global warming! By the way, the report is for six more weeks of winter, so when you get a $450 natural gas bill for March and have to start volunteering for medical experiments just to feed your kids, remember: BLAME PHIL.
Breakfast of Champions
Ever the gentleman, I offered to make my girlfriend a sumptuous breakfast feast this morning consisting of instant oatmeal. The romance and effort were somewhat wasted by the large number of insects living inside the packets of apple-cinnamon oatmeal. The best part of waking up is realizing that your food is moving!
I'm thinking they were living inside the apple chunks, since there were no holes in any of the packets and no bugs elsewhere in the oatmeal box. It was truly gross, but I am sad to say it does not top the time in middle school when I bit into a chocolate-covered granola bar, revealing a very angry maggot in the center that wasn't thrilled about waking up from his nap.
I realize now that the link between these incidents is the Quaker Oats company. Three strikes and you're out, guys.
Do you have any stomach-churning bugs-in-your-food stories? E-mail them to chris@dcstandup.com and share with the world!
The Fall Guy
I fell while I was running today. This happens when you run on uneven sidewalks, and also when you have the coordination of a newborn giraffe. There's a great moment right after you trip, when your thought process goes something like this:
"Well, ****. Now we're falling. Great. These are very expensive running pants. They better not rip, because I got them as a gift and I don't want to replace them. What should we do here ... OK, the first rule, if I'm remembering correctly, is don't put your hands out. That's how people break their wrists. You need your wrists, if only to play Nintendo DS. Just turn your body and take it on the shoul ... WHAT THE HELL, ARMS? Are you on this team or aren't you? Why are you extending? I swear to god, if you stupid hands open up and rake across the concrete, so help me god I will use you to slap eachother within an ... great. Just great. You know what, go ahead and break those wrists, see if I care. Oh, wait, I do care! Please don't [THUD]"
Elapsed time: 2 seconds.
No one was around when I fell this time, which was great. Because even worse than the falling is figuring out how to act after you hit the ground; you have to weigh whatever physical pain you're in against the general embarrassment from falling in front of strangers. Do you bounce right back up and immediately keep running like nothing happened? Do you stay down and start making painful grimaces and noises to let people know that you deserve pity? I usually go for the "sit up and start laughing like I know what a jerk I am." Then I dust myself off, say something like "Whoops," jog around the corner and then limp the rest of the way home.
In case you were wondering, shame is the funniest emotion.
Book Review: Theodore Rex
People really come to this blog for the book reviews. Last week I polished off "Theodore Rex," Edmund Morris' account of Roosevelt's eight years in the White House. It would be hard to top "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt," which covered TR's earlier journies. In "Rise" TR is less powerful, but also less tethered -- he moves from job to job with such energy and passion that it's all sort of exciting.
He wasn't any less dynamic as president, but the job moors the action in place. It's interesting, but not quite as fun. By the end of the book Roosevelt has broken ground on the Panama Canal, won a Nobel Peace Prize and redefined the government's role in the economy and conservation efforts.
He also developed more than a few outstanding eccentricities, especially in regards to exercise; he'd play tennis with Cabinet members on the White House lawn, in plain view of tourists; he'd take ambassadors on hikes through Rock Creek -- both the park and the actual creek. Roosevelt had security concerns -- even paranoid fantasies about how he'd react to an assassin (understandable, since McKinely had been shot). He wasn't unguarded. But it's so hard to imagine a president of the United States rock climbing near Great Falls. It's charmingly antiquated.
Also in this book: the famous "Teddy Bear" story. Quick summary: Roosevelt goes on a bear-hunting trip to Missouri. He wants to bag the first bear, so asks that no one in his hunting party shoot something until he does so. For three days, they find nothing. Eventually, the dogs do sniff out and corner a bear, injuring it. People run to get Roosevelt, who comes back to see that the bear is scrawny, mangy and injured. Seeing the sad condition of the bear, he refuses to kill it for sport but orders it put down.
The story is illustrated in a political cartoon; the depiction of the bear becomes a sensation, and the cartoonist includes it in every TR cartoon from there on. When a line of stuffed bears is produced around that time, they pick up the name "Teddy Bear."
So your kids snuggling up with reminders that Theodore Roosevelt wouldn't murder a wounded bear tied to a tree, but still ordered it killed anyhow.
CUTE CUTE CUTE!
I enjoyed both of the Morris books; if I have any complaint it's that I'd prefer a bit more of the personal stuff. TR was a master manipulator and political strategist, and so blow-by-blow accounts of his greatest victories are certainly worth reading. But just as fascinating are the little anecdotes about him playing with his children, dragging luminaries onto the tennis court or trying to dominate three-hour dinner conversations. It's party Roosevelt's fault; he was very aware of his correspondence and carefully pruned his public image for posterity, destroying letters or erasing unflattering chapters. There's also no way you could get into all that and keep the books under 1,500 pages. But they're really very readable ... if you're a history dork, give "Rise" a try. You'll like it.
For fans of "24" seeking my "insider" Washington "knowledge," judging from the exterior shots in last night's episode, the terrorist command center is in ...
THE CANADIAN EMBASSY! Canada is quiet. Too quiet. And now we know why. I enjoyed that a terrorist command center was in office building with other tenants. That would probably make for uncomfortable elevator conversation: "Could you press 3 with the nozzle of your uzi, please? Oh yeah -- are you guys the ones who keep leaving severed fingers in the trash in the hall bathroom? If you could cut that out, and maybe also stop stabbing the FedEx guy every time he comes to our floor, we'd really appreciate it."
I Take Requests 5
The hour of judgment is nigh, as "I Take Requests 5" comes to the Black Box Theatre in Indian Head, Maryland, this Saturday!
I'm pumped. It's the first time ITR has left the DC Improv, and I'm hoping that it travels well. The black box holds 84, and from what I gather at least some of those seats will be filled -- if you're in Southern Maryland and you're looking for a cheap good time, head on over to the Indian Head Black Box site and get yourself some tickets. $10 gets you stand-up, videos and a trivia contest -- not a bad for one evening.
If you can't make the show, but you know anyone in that area who might be interested, please spread the word -- I always appreciate the help. See you Saturday!
Prepare to be stunned
Ever since childhood I've appreciated the power of animation to change a life. Who can forget the sense of wonder, adventure and limitless possibility that filled their heart during their first Disney movie? Who can deny the artistry and bold visions of the Japanese masters? Who hasn't had their life enriched by the sweet, thoughtful masterpieces from the wizards at Pixar?
Now I know that all that was meaningless, for I have seen the pinnacle of animation -- a creation so stunning and inspiring that to see it is to know that the only limitations in our universe are those we place on our very souls.
First off, I would like to express my profound regret to the president. My only desire throughout this episode has been to serve this great nation, and while I have no doubt that I will be exonerated, I feel that the questions swirling around my nomination at this time can only serve as a distraction in these troubled times.
I honestly did not understand that my income from 2001-2008 was taxable. My consulting work at the time was often done in the spirt of friendship, and as such, I felt that the homes and servants provided to me were mutual gestures of respect from the companies I was helping.
I admit that the decision to write off day spa treatments for my children and dogs could seem baffling, but I ask that out of respect for the privacy of my children and my Doberman, their severe dermatological conditions not be discussed any further in the public forum.
Please also respect the privacy of my litter-bearers. When the litter-bearer service first appeared at my door four years ago, I did not know that they had been sent and paid for by lobbyists. It was my sincere belief that they were citizens spontaneously inspired by accounts of my public service, and that denying them the privilege of carrying me around town would be an insult. In hindsight, their willingness to run errands and have sex with me does seem suspicious, but the thought that they were in any way "compensation" for my professional services never crossed my mind. Had I known that they were considered my employees, I certainly would have paid unemployment taxes for them, and checked to see that they were documented immigrants of legal age. But I cannot turn back the hands of time.
I did not know that the large garbage bags of $100 bills given to me by clients were bags of money. I never opened them, assuming that they were beanbag chairs. I was happy to have them, needing them to furnish the five-bedroom townhouse that I now understand was compensation and not just "a place to crash," and as such I valued each bag at the cost of a beanbag chair, instead of their individual worth of $5.3 million each.
As for deducting $300,000 in Vicodin as a business expense, well, that was just irresponsible, and I apologize.
These innocent, blameless mistakes that anyone could make are inexcusable, and I gladly paid $4.23 million in back taxes and interest to the IRS after a team of 15 agents called these small indiscretions to my attention, because I love America. Though my inability to successfully observe widely publicized laws is egregious, I do not feel that it in any way would have reflected on my ability to run a complex federal bureaucracy. But these are issues I leave to whoever fills that noble post. I wish them luck, and should they need any advice, I am available for the low cost of two beanbags chairs.
New Podcast: Keith Alberstadt
If you haven't already downloaded it, I have an interview with Keith Alberstadt on the podcast feed. Keith is a buddy of mine going back a few years -- he's an excellent comic and a very nice guy.
Plus, the "big secret" he won't reveal in the podcast has now come to fruition -- he's going to be on Letterman's show. The taping was earlier this week and I think it airs soon ... check your listings.
Coke Head
One leftover thought from the Super Bowl: in every Coke ad, the people are drinking from the classic "Gods Must Be Crazy" glass bottle. Where can you get those bottles? I can't remember drinking from one, or seeing someone else drinking from one, or seeing a vending machine or store that sold one, in the last 15 years. Not that a glass bottle would get me to enjoy the disgusting taste of regular Coke; I'm just curious, is all.
My soda-drinking advice to the world is to always go for the diet brand. You won't like it at first, but no one does! In that sense, it's like drinking beer, or dating a crazy person: once you acquire the taste, you can lock in for the rest of your life. The health benefits are tremendous (for soda -- not so much with the beer or dating crazy people) and really, at the end of the day, all we want from soda is bubbles and caffeine. That "Coke taste" which leaves a film on your teeth is completely extraneous. Trust me. I hate the taste of COke but I think I've consumed enough Diet Coke to fill a few Olympic swimming pools.
I think what's holding people back is the word "Diet." No one likes diets! They're a chore and we all hate when co-workers drone on about them endlessly, especially when we know that they'll gain all the weight back within a month, because it's happened seven times before and they still live with cats. We need something more direct. We want results.
Skinny Coke? Fatless Coke? See Your Toes Coke? I'm open to suggestions.
Watching the debacle that was "Saturday Night Live" last weekend, they informed me that Bradley Cooper would be hosting this weekend. This made both me and my roommate say: who's Bradley Cooper?
Answer: He's the jerk from "Wedding Crashers." In fact, he should change his name from Bradley Cooper to The Jerk From Wedding Crashers, because everyone would know exactly who he was, sight unseen. Branding is important! Yes, Bradley Cooper has what I like to call the "Jerk Face," whereby no matter what role he is in, he looks like a jerk. He probably isn't a jerk, but when your chin comes to a fine point, what can you do? If he was around in the 1980s, he would have been the foil in at least three romantic comedies a year. No matter what costume you put him in, he will seem to be a coke-snorting investment banker. Bradley: don't fight it. Fortune is in your grasp.
Any other nominees for the Facial Typecasting Hall of Fame? Obviously, Mickey Rourke, who can now only play professional wrestlers or long-haul truckers. If any come to mind, e-mail chris@dcstandup.com.
Make Me a Job
The stimulus package Congress is working on is supposed to create jobs. This is important, because everyone you know is now laid off. So: how do you create jobs to match up with unemployed people?
Supposedly construction projects employ people, but I don't want to drive over a bridge built by ex-Circuit City sales associates. This isn't quite the 1930s where you had a lot of grizzled guys roaming the countryside hoping to paint fences for a dollar and a lot of construction work involved moving rocks from one pile to another. I guess you could hire some people to move rocks and then a few more to write press releases about the moving of the rocks, but after that it starts to get dicey.
As one of four people in the country that regularly visits Public Works Administration tourist traps, I would be in favor of 400,000 displaced database administrators roaming the countryside and touching up every pavilion and historic marker that hasn't been seen by mortal eyes since 1971. GO STIMULUS GO!
Hey fellas. If you're in a bad relationship right now, here's the plan:
1) Invite your girl to the movies this weekend.
2) Tell her you'd like to see "He's Just Not That Into You."
3) Ask her to meet you at the theater.
4) Don't show up.
If there is a god ...
He'll keep MTV on the air for 18 more years, so that MTV can produce a dating reality built around those octuplets. And all the octuplets will be bisexual. And it will be called "8-Ball of Love."
Hey there champions -- "I Take Requests 5" is tonight at the Indian Head Black Box Theatre. I can't wait to try out this new venue, and I think it's going to be a fine show. Just $10, so if your around and looking for something to do, stop on by!
If you need some more convincing, why not check out this article in Southern Maryland Newspapers. The reporter came and talked to me in my house and watched me record a podcast and everything -- I'm biased, but I think it's very well-written.
25 Things About You
I already put this on Facebook. If you don't use it, you might not get this. But here we go ...
Here are the rules: once you read this, you have to tag everyone you've ever met, so that they can learn more about themselves!
1. You have body image issues of some kind.
2. You have an embarrassing story about your parents, but man do you love them.
3. You're embarrasssed about liking a certain reality TV show.
4. You love a particular kind of ethnic food!
5. You haven't thought all that deeply about your politics but you love to share them!
6. Once in high school, something funny involving a bodily expulsion happened to you.
7. You don't know where you'd be without your best friend.
8. There's a certain kind of weather that you can totally do without.
9. But there's another kind of weather that you totally love!
10. Some animals sure do make you happy. But not all animals.
11. You don't see the point in some kinds of art, except for the kinds that you do see the point of.
12. There's a movie that most people would consider bad or stupid, but god help you, you love it and can quote every line.
13. There's something that you always wanted to learn but have never managed to find the time.
14. There's another thing that you don't care about, no matter how much people say you should.
15. You had a travel experience that changed your life.
16. Sometimes you just hate your job!
17-24. You have at least eight things about you that aren't really interesting enough to share, but you had to get the list up to 25 somehow.
25. You sometimes think that although electronic networking, cell phones and Internet culture supposedly increase connectivity, in fact they often cheapen and marginalize our relationships while cutting into the time we could be spending on truly emotionally resonant face-to-face contact with the people actually in the room with us. JUST KIDDING! What kind of loser would think that?!
My sincere thanks to the fine crowd that turned out in Indian Head last night. We had people from all over Southern Maryland filling up the Black Box Theatre, and I thought the show went great (I'd bet at least 80 percent of the crowd would agree. I'm glad to see the show format working out in a new venue, and I hope to continue taking it around to any place that will have me.
And remember, if you're down that way, keep an eye on the Black Box -- they have a lot of interesting programming on the horizon, and it's a great little place to see a show.
New Podcast: Ben Bailey
A new podcast is up! This time I talked to Ben Bailey, who is the host of "Cash Cab" on Discovery Channel. I had to ask him some of the obligatory game show questions; after that it gets a little more freewheeling, including stories of his past jobs (exotic dancing, cough cough). Then it gets deep as we talk about Anthony Michael Hall. Really. At 35 minutes this is one of the longer podcasts, but I think you'll find it very listenable. A little profanity, so if you're at work, heads up.
Driving to the show on Saturday, a sign caught my eye: "Chestnut Oaks:
Luxury Adult Condos." Used in conjunction with domiciles, "adult" is
usually a polite euphemism for "dirty, godless and perverted." And now
those people have whole condo associations! What a brave new world.
If only. Sadly, these are not 1BR, 1 Dungeon, 1 Bath condos, which on
further consideration, if they DID exist, would have very little resale
value. (A good rule for used furniture: No one wants a bean bag chair with
a history. These would be condos furnished almost exclusively with bean
bag chairs.) A vist to the web site
tells us that ...
Exclusively reserved for those 50 and better, Chestnut
Oaks is a new active adult community designed for comfort, convenience,
and the ease of living just minutes from Washington DC. and the new and
exciting National Harbor.
It's for old people, unless you want to make the argument that "better"
means "younger" -- and don't fall into that trap! Old people are
vindictive, and they vote! I knew that prolonged adolesence has been a bit
of a social concern, but I had no idea that adulthood now starts at 50.
You really shouldn't feel all that bad about living with your parents and
being unemployed to the age of 40 -- in fact, it might be your only way
through this recession. Speaking of which ...
My Bold Plan for the Economy
Loosen child labor laws. Education funding isn't as pressing when
8-year-olds are spending their days sweeping the streets. What's the
downside here? Families that need the extra income get it; kids stuck in
crappy schools get valuable workplace experience instead; people who
become homeless have cleaner streets to sleep on. Let's do it.
Tuesday night I took in "The Winter's Tale" at the Folger here in D.C.
(thanks to brother Dave for the nice gift of Shakespeare tickets). I read
that play to write a paper on it as a high school senior; it's one of the
weirder Shakespeare plays, in that it's 3/5 tragedy and 2/5 comedy. It
also has arguably the most famous stage direction in dramatic history:
Exit, pursued by a bear. Watching the play, it makes sense. But when
you're reading the scene in question., there's no indication that a bear
has wandered along, and so you get the distinct impression that maybe
Shakespeare had a hot date and wanted to finish the scene ASAP. Kudos to
the Folger for selling gingerbread bears at intermission.
The Folger is really a neat venue; and given the limitations of the
stage (two big structural pillars, not a ton of floor space) they always
seem to do some pretty elegant stuff with the sets. Also, you're generally
right on top of the stage no matter where you're sitting. Every time an
actor spits, you can see it in the lights, and anyone in a scene with King
Leontes should qualify for hazard pay thanks to drowning risk. I thought
he was going to die of dehydration in the middle of the longer scenes.
The story is glum: The King of Sicilia is being visited by his friend,
the King of Bohemia, and for reasons not entirely clear to us (we're
coming in at the tail end) Sicilia thinks his wife is banging Bohemia.
She's pregnant, so he assumed the baby isn't his, and the accusations
basically tear everything apart. It's all very sad when you read it, but
when you see it live, it's very obviously an episode of "Maury." There's
even a sealed paternity test!
After that hot buttered mess, the action jumps ahead 16 years and
everyone seems to be very sorry for what they did, and then they learn the
true meaning of love from their children. And then something magical and
crowd-pleasing happens. It's very obviously an episode of "Oprah."
The only problem I had with the evening was the problem I have with
every Shakespeare play: too much cocaine use in the bathrooms. Oh, and it
also takes a few minutes for ye olde braine to pop into gear, language
wise. After a whole day of talking plebian, the Queen's English doesn't
register so good, and as a result the first scene or two are lost. Since a
lot of characters and plot points are packed into the start of your
average Shakespeare play, this is a problem. Simple solution: force an
intern to rewrite three articles from US Weekly in Shakespearean English,
then have an actor read them to the audience for 10 minutes before the
show. It would help everyone acclimate, and also, I think the Chris Brown
saga would be far more interesting in iambic pentameter.
Exit, pursued by a swarm of locusts
Book Review: His Excellency
Christmas book No. 2 is now back on the shelf. "His Excellency" is
Joseph Ellis' interpretation of George Washington's life, based on
readings of, oh, everything Washington wrote. George was pretty good about
keeping records, so it's something of a minor miracle that the book clocks
in at 275 pages. There's not so much a detailed retelling of George's
whole life -- the thinking is that you can find that elsewhere. Instead,
it goes through each of the major episodes and tries to understand
Washington's ambitions, philosophy and ethics, plus how his contemporaries
related to him.
I really liked it! Ellis doesn't get too touchy-feely with the
psychology, maybe in part because of the source material. Washington
apparently had remarkable self-control, and on top of that he was very
conscious of his long-term image -- as his life moved forward and his
legend grew he made a determined effort to avoid ostentatious displays or
public confrontations that might damage his reputation, and when such
incidents did occur, he did his best to manage the historical record. I think Ellis' own admirable restraint helps the cause. General impressions:
1) America was built by bitter people. One recurring theme from this era seems to be resentment -- even if you were high society in the colonies, you were still second-class in the British Empire. That apparently chafed George, and quite a few of his contemporaries. There was a lot of careful thought about the nature of government, yeah, but quite a bit of what was happening was orchestrated by guys who resented second-class status.
2) Washington didn't trust in humanity much, at least not a macro level -- his experiences with the Continental Congress, the British Empire and the French led him to the persistent belief that groups would always pursue their interests over any grand ideals. He liked the idea of a strong federal government in part to counteract those natural impulses. Of course, it helped when the head of the federal government was someone as relatively restrained as Washington, but in general, his attitudes have been borne out by 200 years of history.
3) If he hadn't consented to be the president, the country probably would have fallen apart at the seams, but by the time he had retired, people (Madison, Jefferson) were already starting to turn on him and badmouth him. Times change but human nature doesn't.
Mostly, my initial impressions were reinforced. There were a lot of thinkers in colonial America, but Washington was a doer. As such he became as much an instrument as a leader -- many of the luminaries of the Revolution were more than happy to harness their cause to George, who thankfully had a pragmatic streak powerful enough to pull everyone through some very tough times. He wasn't a perfect guy, but for the circumstances, he was as perfect as anyone could hope for.
I'm also struck again by how self-aware many historic figures are. Washington was a careful steward of his own legacy (much like Roosevelt, as described in the Morris biographies); he worked under the assumption that his letters would be studied one day and wrote them accordingly. His personal correspondence with Martha was destroyed, leaving much of his private life private. The impression we have today was guided in large part by Washington himself.
Historiography matters. People would probably be better served taking one year of historical theory than three years of history.
In honor of Abe Lincoln's birth, I give you an encore presentation of "Lincoln: The Early Years."
New Podcast: Eddie Gossling
This was a fun one. Eddie was pleasant and chatty out of the gate; it didn't take too much prompting to get straight to some high-quality stuff. After starting out with some standard comedy stuff, we talk a little bit about his childhood (he was a military brat), his habit of stealing things and what it's like being married to another comedian.
You get an aquarium in your
office! THAT WOULD BE AWESOME! Even if you were stressed about the cataclysmic
implosion of global markets, you could always pop down to the basement on lunch and
look at a few fishies. You could stare at the sharks and pretend you're a Bond
villain. Fun!
If you're ever in the nation's capital and $5 is burning a hole in your pocket,
do visit the aquarium. The best way to describe it: it's like they finished the
city, and then someone realized, "Oh ****! We forgot the aquarium!"
I was deeply, profoundly offended by this show. I was OK with the adult themes, the ethnic stereotypes, the graphic puppet sex and the liberal use of profanity. But the character of the 32-year-old failed stand-up comedian was a hateful, needlessly cruel caricature. SHAME! SHAME, I SAY!
That aside, it had a great first act; it's free-wheeling and they parody an awful lot before the "story" starts to take over. After intermission it runs out of gas, because it gets larded up with 30something writers trying to teach 20somethings valuable life lessons, and life lessons are hard to take from young people with self-inflicted artsy philosophy problems. (That's what makes "Rent" maybe the biggest piece of crap to ever appear on a stage.) But in the end, "Avenue Q" isn't really preachy, so you make it over the finish line feeling good about the whole thing. A highly enjoyable evening, I say!
Just don't take the kids! I was at a Valentine's evening show, so it was all adults. My brother went to see the show in Pittsburgh and reports that the funniest thing might have been parents who clearly did no research and brought their kids to see a show with puppets. As the Bad Idea Bears would say, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"
Eddie Gossling
I went back to the Improv Sunday night to catch Eddie Gossling's full show (after the podcast I was definitely intrigued). It's really good, and if you see him listed at a club near you I'd recommend it. Here's a toned down (but still funny) clip of one of my favorite bits from last night...
It's Presidents Day! You might have heard that I like learning about the presidents, and if you're in a reflective mood, why not click over to the Dead Presidents section of the site? Every time I visit a presidential location (home, birthplace, grave or other) I write it up and store in there. The page that consistently gets the most hits is ...
If you're wondering why I bother with all this ...
Lunch with Millard
Millard Fillmore gets a picnic table.
George Washington gets a national park on his birthplace, complete with a visitor center, and landscaped grounds, and people in costumes making candles while second-guessing some life choices. A miniature cousin to the Washington Monument greets visitors at the entrance, and if you're the kind of person who really needs the people opening your refrigerator to know that you once went to Pope's Creek plantation, the gift shop can help you out. There's a whole grove of picnic tables, with barbeque stations and a modern bathroom which, even when dirty, is a million times nicer than anything George Washington ever would have used (which could explain the lack of smiling portraits).
Millard gets one picnic table (maybe two, the details are fuzzy), a sign and a flagpole with a flag so tattered any apprentice clothmaker would wince. The log cabin is long gone, but, if you desperately want to see a building, you're in luck: head down Skinner Hill, and on the edges of Moravia, you can see a replica at Fillmore Glen State Park. Two rooms, a chimney, and not much else. Take that mental snapshot, head five miles back up the hill, and you can almost put the picture together.
Then, as you're eating an apple at the picnic table, you can think about why you bothered taking the picture in the first place. Why on earth would any one go 100 miles out of the way for Millard Fillmore?
It's not the pursuit of greatness. Presidents can pale in comparison to men who never gave a first thought to the White House. Moravia is a two hour drive from the Rochester home of George Eastman, a man who democratized memories with dry-plate film developing. He was eccentric: he sawed his home in half to insert 9 extra feet to his parlor, at twice the original cost of the home. He was generous: he gave a fortune to dental clinics and educational institutions. He was insanely efficient: he kept Kodak on a calendar of 13 equal-length months. Even his suicide note (he was terminally ill) was brutally efficient: "My work is done. Why wait?" You could question the efficiency of shooting yourself in the heart with a Lugar, but he didn't miss.
Eastman was great, in ways that his fellow New Yorker never was. Millard was impressive, of course. He quit a job as a teenager, at a time when that meant not moving further down the strip mall, but walking 100 miles through the forest to find his family. Starting as uneducated dirt in the middle of the wilderness, he became a great lawyer, and had the presence of mind not to eat bad cherries while drinking milk in July. (Zachary Taylor wasn't so wise.) But what he accomplished fits most neatly into the history of paperwork. It doesn't stir us in the way that great things do.
It could be the collector's impulse that took you up that hill. No one starts out enthusiastic about Millard Fillmore. The first time you pass the sign for Andrew Johnson's home on I-81, you laugh. Who would care about Andrew Johnson? The second time, you think about the first time. The third time, you realize you have a few extra hours ... why not? Once the wall is breached, it's easier to pull off the Ohio Turnpike at exit 91 to finally see if Rutherford B. Hayes was more than just a hellacious beard. One Google search later, it turns out you could see Garfield's house with just a 40 minute detour on the way home. By the time you've seen 10 presidents, why not get them all? It's more defensible than your collection of Pez dispensers, and the next thing you know, you're standing in a gas station near the Finger Lakes, buying mini frosted donuts and asking for directions to a site the locals couldn't bother marking with a sign.
Maybe you want to understand America. Not how the Compromise of 1850 affects your life (a question for the philosophers), but how the American experience has and has not changed since 1776. For that, you don't need greatness. The national character wasn't forged in the hot fires of Millard Fillmore; he was more a man floating downstream with history than reshaping its banks. But he shares a title with George Washington, and Abraham Lincoln, and Theodore Roosevelt. He was a product of hard work and circumstance, and he had relationships, political and personal, that were echoed by every president before and after. He was elected on a ticket by people expressing their sovereign will, under the same system we use 160 years later. We fret about a nation divided and angry, and we seem mystified by how "the other side" could possibly think what it does; looking at the presidents and people of 50, 100 or 200 years ago, they worried about the same things, and were similarly mystified. A lot has changed, but the foundation stays the same.
Or maybe it's just this: Presidents are, above all, endearingly human; they are men whose virtues and faults have been elevated to the status of public property. None ever transcended the problems and joys of everyday life, and just like us, those experiences shaped their time on the job. Whether they were great, awful or just forgettable, the commanders in chief all left behind something for us to relate to. Their homes, birthplaces and graves are parts of their autobiography, sometimes heavily edited, sometimes not. A picnic table off a gravel parking circle on a hillside in upstate New York isn't a huge chapter.
Do yourself a favor and watch this goal by Alex Ovechkin. I've been to one NHL game this year, and it turns out to have the best goal I've ever seen live. There were times in Ovechkin's first year where he'd get the puck, look around, realize no help was coming and then just go around three guys and score. He's gotten alot of help since then, but this was definitely a throwback. Awesome stuff.
Sign Me Up
While we're on sports, I would like to say damn you, Esmailyn Gonzalez, for queering my plan to
defraud the Washington Nationals. I had all my ducks in a row to pose as a 16-year-old Venezuelan utility infielder, but "Smiley" had to go and ruin it for all of us. BASTARDO!
In other baseball news, Spring Training is underway, and as a fan, I have to get into mental shape. This is the first season in my adult life where I have to figure out how to cheer for a defending champion. Humility? Arrogance? Indifference? Pessimism?
Right now I'm going into camp with an "incoherent moron who ignores reality" strategy. If anyone ever says anything negative about the Phillies, even if it's plausible, I will just start screaming "World Champions" two inches from their face until someone gets punched. The method might need a little refining, but that's what March is for.
Cards
I have a bunch of business cards in my wallet. The way it works: I carry my card around. I meet someone I should "network" with, like someone in the comedy industry, or a senate majority leader. I give them my card, they give me their card. I put their card in my wallet and never look at it ever again.
I'm really bad at networking! And so all these poor business cards from around the world never get to achieve their god-given purpose in the graveyard that is my wallet. I hereby resolve to empty my wallet once every three months, put all the cards in a bowl, do a drawing and then send the winner a free burrito.
The best job, card-wise, would be swordsman. You wouldn't need a card, because you could just carve your initials on people. No one would ever have to fish around their wallet; they'd just have to look at their forearm to know what a great swordsman you are, and then they'd probably hire you for any of their swordfighting needs.
I think about this stuff when I forget to bring a book on the Metro.
Slumdog Millionaire: I didn't see this movie, but I think it's like "Juno." That means it's pretty good, but mostly it's about the viewer (usually an upper-middle-class white person) feeling proud of themselves for having watched it. It's about poor foreign people! Hooray! And it even has a Bollywood dance number in it, so it feels like an authentic cultural experience. Good for you for being so open minded. Now go rent "Water."
Benjamin Button: I didn't see this movie, but I have seen "Forrest Gump" and the later episodes of "Mork and Mindy" where Jonathan Winters ages backwards, and a combination of those things can't possibly win an Oscar.
Milk: I didn't see this movie, but neither did anyone else.
Frost/Nixon: I didn't see this movie, but they already made the best movie ever about Richard Nixon, and it was called "Dick." I find the presidents to be fascinating, but I was not even remotely interested in watching this film.
The Reader: I did see this movie, and it had sex, Nazis and a war crimes tribunal. It easily makes for the best post-viewing discussion, especially if you took someone to see it on a first date: "Well, I thought that scene in the trial where she couldn't express remorse for killing those Jews was fascinating, but I have to say my favorite part was where she took her top off and did him in the tub." WINNER!
Your life is going way better than these people, who a) are currently living through winter in Minnesota; and b) just got arrested for allegedly doing something to make Minnesota winters livable. I have extolled the virtues of the St. Paul police in the past, but it is always helpful to send nice reminders. The only way this could be improved is if they lost the simple gray backdrop and incorporated an Olan Mills studio. This might be pleasant enough to avoid the Eighth Amendment. Imagine if any of those faces were, say ... leaning jauntily against a fake tree stump, with a forest background behind them? That would be great, right?
Trivia on Wednesday
Trivia, this Wednesday, in the DC Improv Lounge. There will be dancing. Right now, reservations have filled up about half capacity, so if you're coming fer sure, give us a heads up.
It's great how an industry of people who spend every waking hour trying to entertain Americans has no concept how to program three hours that would be entertaining to Americans. Every year! Here's a hint for next time: cut down on the crowd shots where the studio audience looks bored. Also, drop all the production numbers in favor of a three-minute montage of starlet cleavage shots.
Let's see, any other world problems need solving ... stand-up special producers -- audience shots where no one is laughing seem strange when laughter is audible on the soundtrack.
Democratic congressional leaders: complaining about a lack of bipartisanship seems unusual when your entire caucus votes as one.
C-SPAN Radio: airing Supreme Court oral arguments in a mining rights case from five years ago seems unusual ... well, it just seems unusual. If I paid taxes I'd be very upset that they were underwriting such shenanigans.
Close Scrutiny
Here's a whole Tom Shales review (and a positive one, at that!) of "Eastbound and Down" where he completely fails to mention John Rocker. Strange omission, right?
Over the years I have definitely read Shales reviews (and Ebert reviews, etc.) where they describe major plot points incorrectly. I guess you can always report your general impressions, but if you aren't watching closely enough to get the basic details correct, why should anyone trust your reviews?
On Saturday I went to a restaurant called "America," which honors our nation's diversity by having a 48-page menu. If the quality of the food is seen as a hat tip to American production standards, then union labor, have I got a boycott for you!
The most important thing: on the menu was a "Hubcap burger," which is 24 oz. of meat. I've eaten a one-pound hamburger. I've heard legends of a five-pound hamburger via the Food Channel. But I've never been directly presented with the option of consuming a pound and a half of ground beef in a restaurant setting.
I didn't order it. Now, I can't decide if that decision is a sign of personal growth, or an indication that I'm giving up on life / a slap in the fact to the American spirt. This is a real crisis of conscience, people. Help me!
Movie Review: Milk
Not bad! I think it was a bit of a whitewash -- the whole gay rights movement gets run through the Harvey Milk spectrum to a conspicuous degree, and it's enough to make you wonder if the story's distorted to polish his legacy. I was also kind of hoping for a little more insight into what made Harvey Milk tick, and maybe a little less of the blow-by-blow political stuff. There's not a ton of depth, because you don't know anything about Harvey before the age of 40 and in almost every scene he's being a great guy. But it's not so much a biopic as a dramatized documentary of an 8-year period, and the acting really was good.
One Oscar quibble: John Brolin was fine, but if anyone deserved a Best Supporting Actor nom in this film, it's Diego Luna. I was uncomfortable the whole time he was on screen. Creepy stuff.
Movie Review: Cookies
OK, there is no movie called "Cookies." But if there were, you'd see it, right? I know I would.
Trivia TOMORROW!
Just one more day to Happy Hour Trivia! Remember, you can reserve some seats if you're planning on coming -- we have limited capacity, so that's not such a bad idea. E-mail trivia@dcstandup.com if you'd like to hold a table.
So sayeth the president! The seventh seal is broken!
[High political content. Feel free to ignore.]
Here's what nags me, ever so slightly, about our glorious leader: in the last century, brainy people + strong faith in government solutions + "media savvy" communications = very bad things on a very grand scale. America isn't a fascist/communist/socialist police state. It's obviously not going to become one. But toss in the rabid, worshipful cult of personality and all the class warfare stuff of the last few weeks, and there's a faint echo there. It's at least a little unsettling, right? All that Karl Rove stuff about building a permanent Republican majority was sort of sinister, so when a White House with a penchant for information control puts the Census under White House supervision, you should bat a few eyelashes. It's Leninism 101!
One noticable difference: the Soviets tried to strectch their plans over five years. Sigh. A few speech thoughts:
We're one month in, and Obama has already pre-empted an episode of "House," and also Mardi Gras. FDR had something like 40 fireside chats over 13 years. Pace yourself, or else get your own cable channel and leave my stories alone. C-SPAN 4: all Obama, all the time.
I'm not thrilled about fatcat CEOs flying jets 500,000 miles a day just to punch old ladies in the stomach (or whatever it is they're doing), but since when is every small-business owner the main character in a Frank Capra movie? Small-businesses owners employ people, sure. But I bet a few of them are jerks, only on a smaller financial scale. Every time politicians start talking about CEOs these days, the one image that springs to mind is Uncle Moneybags putting a cigar out in a homeless person's eye. What about the guy who owns a carwash, cheats on his taxes and uses lots of illegal immigrant labor? Somebody complain about that guy.
It's fun to see Congressmen of both parties applauding initiatives that they will never in a million years support, like shutting down Cold War military programs or ending agriculture subsidies. The thing about reducing government waste is that it would eliminate a lot of jobs, and no one made a long Congressional career out of voting for job losses in their district. Good luck with all that.
There's a great Margaret Thatcher quote: "Power is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't." If you have to keep telling people that you're a "different" politician ... at some point, it just becomes marketing.
By 2020, the country will again lead the world in the proportion of college graduates! I get a little skittish whenever we throw around "proportion" or "rate" stats, because a ton of population growth comes mostly from the lower end of the economic spectrum, i.e. first- or second-generation immigrants. Maybe Obama has a plan for massive deportations? From a stats perspective, it would help our college stats. Might be a non-starter at the polls, though.
Anyhow, enjoy the "bold vision" for a few days. It's always nice to see a leader urging confrontation of serious problems. Never mind that we just had a leader who unliaterally confronted one very serious problem (terorrism) and made efforts (good or bad) to deal with entitlement costs (Social Security privatization) and educational reform (No Child Left Behind). Remember: it's totally different now! It's all so fresh and new!
History repeats itself! We had a lot of new teams on board (welcome!), but the winners circle was a carbon copy of January. Red Beaver (hey, they choose their own names) scored 29 out of 42 to nail down first place for the second straight month. Our most tenured team, the Golden Triangle Gun Club, had their usual strong showing with 27, which matched the score of up-and-coming Sqizzle. The Gun Club won second place honors by naming a "Razzie" winner in the tiebreaker.
As for the questions? We did four rounds. "Black History" covered almost anything black: African-Americans, piano keys, black holes, and the Black Death. Our audio/video round had teams naming the originators of 10 cover songs. For the first time ever we did worksheet round, daring people to identify 10 Best Supporting Actor winners out a list of 33 nomineees. And finally, "Bailout!" dealt with all kins of bailouts ... financial, nautical, airplane-related, jail ... The worksheet ended up being the bastard round, with most people scoring five or lower. Always nice to have one excruciating game in there.
Here are your winners, in order of finish. Special mention for "Thomas Jefferson Airplane." Good name.
He's back! Bob was the first person interviewed for the DC Improv podcast, and nine months later he's now the first person interviewed again.
Since we were chatting AFTER a show, I ask him a bit about his post-show routine. Plus, since he just recently was filming the sequel to "Boondock Saints," he talks a bit about life on a movie set. Please understand that these were the only two questions I prepared, because Bob chats in all directions; he actually managed to somehow start the podcast himself and before I knew what was happening we were five minutes in. He's a great guy and it was cool to have him back on the show.
Trivia night coincided with Bob's first show at the Improv. I asked the trivia people if anyone was "going to see Bob Marley." That's a pretty good euphemism for smoking pot, right? "Sorry, I can't help you move, I'm going to see Bob Marley tonight. Maybe next time."
Nanerpuss
Since Wednesday, I've come to realize first that there is not a consensus on how to spell Nanerpuss. The double S looks better to me, but it's a play on octopus, then it needs to be a single S. These are the things you worry about when you have a journalism degree.
Second, I know I'm not alone! My brother Dave e-mails that he also loves Nanerpus. And what's not to love? He's a banana/octopus hybrid with googly eyes ... AND A MOUSTACHE. I don't ever "go to see Bob Marley" but I still find this beyond fantastic, and you should too.
The problem, succinctly stated by my brother, is that Nanerpuss, though invented strictly for the purpose of being mocked, is actually far more appealing than anything on the menu at Denny's. If I went to a Denny's and they DIDN'T want to prepare me a Nanerpuss, I'd be angry enough to leave Denny's. And since Denny's survives mainly on drunk people with nowhere to go after last call, I think there has to be a groundswell to make Nanerpuss a PERMANENT MENU ITEM!
Legal Stuff: If you have questions about this Web site, why? You should spend your time questioning the moral nature of any god who would let Chris White exist. But anyhow ... copyright 2009, Chris White Sucks Inc.
Watching the debacle that was "Saturday Night Live" last weekend, they informed me that Bradley Cooper would be hosting this weekend. This made both me and my roommate say: who's Bradley Cooper?
Hey there champions -- "I Take Requests 5" is tonight at the 
This was a fun one. Eddie was pleasant and chatty out of the gate; it didn't take too much prompting to get straight to some high-quality stuff. After starting out with some standard comedy stuff, we talk a little bit about his childhood (he was a military brat), his habit of stealing things and what it's like being married to another comedian.
He's back! Bob was the first person interviewed for the DC Improv podcast, and nine months later he's now the first person interviewed again.
August 2009: Jefferson.
Fall 2009: comic interviews on the podcast. 
