Scratch Pad Stage

I have very little experience writing jokes to say onstage, but that is not to say I have no experience at all.

Many years ago, back before our country completely turned into the Hatfields vs. the McCoys, I did a little stand up back in Orlando. I had a notebook full of very hacky jokes and observations that I kept with me at all times. I never knew when a little comic gem would come to me and I had to write it down at that moment, for fear of losing to the ether. "7-11's are lame!" "'Nub' is a funny word!"

One day I took a trip downtown on a bus and while i roamed the street seemingly looking for a much-needed job I found a little theater that had open mic nights. I came back the next week to see the show as a patron, then I came back with 3-5 minutes of knee-slapping hilarity. It actually went well.

This time around, when I'm older and I take up more space, not much has changed. Well, that's a fat lie. A lot has changed. I've learned a lot about my style and what I want to talk about. But the gathering of material is similar. Also, a blatant lie.

I've had opportunities to at least try out this material out loud on the podcasts, if not to all the unfortunate humans that interact with me in my life.

Here's the thing. the material has to be good, but you also have to car about it at the time. At least at this stage in the game. The 'I don't know what I'm doing' stage.

I have a bit about the Y2K scare that I like. Its old but I can tie it in with the 2012 nonsense that's floating around out there. I have to hammer out some fish out of water stuff. Being from Florida could actually be an asset for once.

I've planted these in the podcasts but never tried to whittle them down. Oi.

If the set is as entertaining as this blog entry, I'm screwed.

You Should Never Do This. (Or Should You?)

This rhino has no business being here.

I thought I bailed on this thing for good.

I have used any and all of my creative energy (i.e. complaining about minutiae) for my Shout From The Lawn podcast. I've enjoyed the results. But recently, through genuine introspection, therapy and and countless days staring out a window; and after a lifetime of putting things off, I have discovered that I need to venture out.

So after 16 years or so I am going back to stand-up comedy. By that I mean, hitting the half dozen or so places in Portland that actually have open mic nights.

Normally I would advise against anyone who would ever write down their intentions. Its almost always a mistake. Your failure is now shared with everyone you blurted your half brained cockamamie ideas to. You should always reports on events after they happen. Take that, cable news.

But sometimes you just don't care. Its succeed or bust and bust doesn't hurt that much.

So why write about it in here? No reason. Its up. I'd like to chronicle things as they happen: First hone down a few sets. I have to scrape the good material from my podcasts, and turn the switch on in my head that sniffs out the funny. Its usually on, but now I have kicked into oversniff.

I'll also include when I sample the locations as a patron. This sounds uninteresting, and it is. But I haven't gone out in any adventurous capacity since Clinton was president. ('Member those days...ahhhh....) I've been in work and dad mode for a very long time.

Its just like The Natural, except I'm not really a natural. And there's no Robert Redford or Glenn Close. Or baseball. And it doesn't take place in the thirties. And there is no sign of Wilford Brimley anywhere.

Finally, I'll detail the show. I'm pretty scared about it, but I was when I was 22. Kinda makes me feel 22.

I'm sure I'll write other things in here. I think I feel it again. But podcast first, because it actually costs me a few bucks.

Concession.

Holden at the coast, May 2009

Because of the podcast, most of my ideas have been funneled into talking fodder. If its quasi-socialist rants or jokes about my fellow man, the bulk of my creativity is channeled to a spoken-word format.

It bothered me for a few months. I wanted to write; I had that old familiar itch to knock out 400 to 500 words and put everything in a concise order for my desired effect. Then, I got over it. I love to talk. Having a podcast with a listenership of nearly 10 sets of ears is a lot of fun and it is closer to what I think I’m supposed to be doing.

But I can’t give up writing, man. I have to put something down. So this will have to be a bit more bloggy. The stuff I used to primarily avoid with this site will now take front and center. It is, after all, its intended purpose.

I have tomatoes. No kidding. With a grand total of about $22.50 three months ago, we have five species of tomatoes, some cilantro, thyme and basil in our backyard. It’s kinda cool, and my favorite part is that is took nearly no effort at all. I had jalapenos and carrots that didn’t make it, but I chalk that up to me not knowing what the hell I’m doing. Next year, we are going balls to the wall with berry bushes, green onions and I’m going to quadruple the amount of cilantro. I won’t be happy until I can make my own salsa without leaving the house. Man, if we could only get avocado going…

Speaking of veggies, Amy and I frequent the tiny Hillsboro Farmer’s Market to grab some greens and also to eat the best Mexican food I’ve had out here. While I’m there, I always notice the older guys strolling around there with their wives. I wonder to myself whether or not I’ll end up morphing into them ten to twenty years from now. These guys are all the same. Super boney with a beard. Mostly balding; shorts and sandals are mandatory. They have a grin and they don’t look worried about a damn thing. I hope I can turn into one of those dudes because they look healthy. Except that they probably are into smooth jazz and Steely Dan; which I just can’t handle no matter how hard I try.

Back soon; because coming up with this crap is easy….