I love dogs. I really do. Yep. I'm that guy. The one with the dog as a screensaver, the one who has more pictures of dogs on the phone, ipad, whatever than anything else that's me. I've testified in dog abuse cases. I've taken dogs from yards. I've cut dogs out of fences and houses during Hurricane Katrina with the Humane Society of the United States. I've rescued dogs.
But they have also rescued me. On those dark rainy days when you don't want to get out from under the covers those pooches need to go out. There have been many "three dog nights" that I have been blessed to have three dogs. And don't get me started about who I blame when I fart at a party. Sometimes I just don't know how to get along without them. The people in my life have even been telling me for years to put them in the act. Hmmmm....?
I think our relationship with dogs are a bit more symbiotic than the "master" moniker we give ourselves lets on. So get out there and pet those puppies of yours. I know it's cold but walk them. Your survival depends on it.
I'm getting ready for a big gig this evening at college campus near me. But I began to question "What the hell is my job anyway?" Because most of my time is spent on social media promoting the thing than actually rehearsing my act.
I think for most comedians the job is mostly trying to get the next job. Can that be? That's why when people get big the first thing they do is get other people. Right? Where the hell is my entourage? Things would be so easy if I had an entourage. Because its tough getting an audience to go out in the cold when they can use the same internet that I am plastering with ads to simply watch a Lewis Black video right in their own living room.
But I have faith. Get out there and support live comedy folks. And when I make it big I promise to have my people call you.
Can this really be? Have I been at this for two weeks? Wow. For a noncommittal person like me we have been together a lifetime. Thanks for the memories.
Well I know that I am late to the party. But I finally sat down and watched the Bill Nye/Ken Ham debate. I saw different buzz clips on Bill Maher. I even saw a lay speaker in the congregation give a talk on it at the Unitarian church I go to. But I never really watched the whole thing.
Unbelievable! Even more unbelievable is the fact that over 40% of citizens of the United States believe in creationism. Which means that 4 out of the 10 people you come in contact with tomorrow think the Earth is only 4,000 years old! Despite a giant tree that can be dated to 9,550 years old using the simple third grade science of counting the damn rings and adding them up. Even though Antarctic ice cores contain atmosphere bubbles proven over 680,000 years old these mouth breathers believe that a ancient family built a 500 foot boat that all the animals of the world could live on. Really? I brought a pitt bull home from Hurrican Katrina and I can't keep her from trying to kill my lab. But somehow the lions laid with the lambs seasick or not.
I mean the whole debate was like watching any episode of The X Files. Moulder has an eye full of motor oil and a spaceship causing a huge storm right in front of her and Skully says "No Moulder. I'm sure there's another explanation for this."
To be fair to presumably half my audience. If evolution is true and we are descendants of monkeys then why are there still monkeys? I think that certain monkeys when given the choice to evolve were afraid that they would turn into Ken Ham and opted to stay a monkey.
To be fair to the other 55% of my audience. If man was made "of the dust of the ground", as it says in Genesis 2:7, how come we still have dust?
I remember about seven years ago being at a party and seeing a young man wearing a jersey that read"Vintage 1972". Ahem…that's the year I was born. I remember thinking "Am I vintage now?" When did that happen?
Well CBS is bringing back a "vintage" comedy - The Odd Couple. Why? Is there any universe in which Matthew Perry could shed some hidden light on the character of Oscar Madison that Jack Klugman Missed? Oh yes, there were so many stones left unturned. I feel hanging until this very day.
I'm sorry but remakes make me mad. Here are all of us no-names running around trying to come up with next original idea. Meanwhile all the creative titans that have the jobs we want are sitting around a table beating a dead vintage horse. "Who's got one?" "Okay how about we do one where piranhas attack people - except it's in 3D!" "I've got it Dracula with a…wait for it…wait for it…bouffant! Nobody will see that coming."
And they always remake the good stuff. What's with that? We didn't need another Willie Wonka (dreamy eyes aside), we already caught the 3:10 to Yuma over a bowl of spaghetti on Saturday morning years ago, and no Michael Bay let sleeping Birds lie.
You ever notice they never remake the bad stuff? I mean if these hot shot directors are such visionaries then why don't they take a shot at Cop Rock and give that another go around. You make me wanna watch Cop Rock with you and I'll comb the popcorn out of your Einstein fro myself Tim Burton.
Good night and good luck. (Was that a remake?)
I am a cynic at heart. Most comedians are. There isn't much "funny" in pointing out the nice, the logical and the altruistic things of this world. But today you have caught me on one of my magical Mondays. Mondays are my "meetings day". Am I meeting with my agent? I wish? My financial planner? Not without an agent I'm not. My parole officer? We're not quite there yet.
My Mondays start with an online meeting of highly intelligent, new-thought, new-age, energy healers. What is an energy healer? I'm not sure. I'm still working on the Twitter thing remember? I mostly enjoy the irony of these folks tripping over themselves to say the most brilliant, nonjudgmental, positive things after the first twenty minutes of each meeting are inevitably spent trying to figure out how Google Hangouts works and getting everybody on the call. Basically we all experiment with the energy around us, bring new ideas and teachings to the table and see if we can all achieve a higher state of love and consciousness. How the hell did I get in here? “When the pupil is ready, the Master appears.” - Old Theosophical statement probably conceived by Mabel Collins but often attributed to the Buddha.
The second meeting of my day is WE. I loosely and of course tonge-and-cheekily defined WE in last Monday's blog found http://www.michelletomko.com/blog/women-water-circle. Please check it out.
On these days of Law of Attraction (I would prefer days of Law & Order DA-dum) the cynic in me is constantly challenged. Most of my energy in the early years of these meetings was spent on not making obvious sex jokes and rolling my eyes. But as I have now moved over to the dark side (As a comedian the My Little Pony everything is great as long as we share side is the dark side.) I gotta tell ya. The shit works.
Example? Well last week in WE the Feng Shui lady did this exercise where she held up a book in the center of the room and kept repeating "Who wants this?" over and over again until one woman stood up and grabbed it out of her hand ala brass ring. The lesson was of course to go get what you want. Friday night I was at the Jeff Tracta show at the Borgata when the kindhearted star gave a shout out to his producer who stood up and reluctantly got picked up by the spotlight. AHA! I got you now. Well I was literally at diagonally the other end of the showroom. But when the show ended I darted and weaved for him with Emmit Smith precision, told him it was my birthday and asked him to please take my card. He was a truly a gentleman, made eye contact, shook my hand and really spent a moment with me. He even invited me back the next night. And then? Tonight he called. He called to say he almost fell out of his chair laughing at my video clips. I went and grabbed that brass ring. Thanks Feng Shui lady. The shit works people. The shit works.
And even if it doesn't. It's better than the alternative. Miserably saying that you never get a break gets old and doesn't get you anywhere. So come on over to the dark side - the big easy- and stay there. A good unicorn beats a sad sack any night of the week.
