My Halloween Night



October 31,2008

THE OPENING

I know I'm posting this rather late. But under the circumstances and the events I experienced I have my reasons for taking my time. Halloween night, I'm not much of trick or treater. Well ever since I was able to physically go in to a store and purchase as much candy as I wanted for myself, I haven't had much desire to dress up. So I stayed in, rounded up some scary movies, ordered a pizza, cut off the lights and had a blockbuster night. I cut on the DVD flipped a few channels while I waited for it to load up.

THE TRAP

In the mist surfing I come across a program that catches my eye immediately. Something about this program ran a chill down my spine that could only be explained as fear. I took time out to settle in, because something about made all the movies I selected seem obsolete. I knew I had found the perfect Halloween program. Things begin to happen. The room became darker, the air became chiller, and I was, I hate to admit it, but I was a little frightened. The title song plays, the show goes to commercial. My senses heighten and the hair on my back starts to stand. The same exact feeling I received while watching The Ring. The show comes back, the credits are rolling and what I feared became even more of a reality. Across the screen the credits displayed horror in words that my eyes will never ever be able to remove from my memory. A name that brings fear to readers and viewers like no other in the world of horror. A name that challenges the kings of horror. A name that will make you redefine your definition of terror. That name is Tyler Perry and I was watching "House of Payne". But what made this even worse, what made me want to go sit in a church and seek refuge. Other than the fact they call this a sitcom and there isn't one joke in it. This episode I was watching was a part of an all night marathon. Only one of many to come. I screamed but no sound was made. Nothing would come out. But a silent scream of terror that would have woken the dead. I rushed to the TV to change the channel, but if wouldn't change. The buttons would not respond. I couldn't find the remote. I went to the outlet to pull the plug, but sparks of electricity kept me from unplugging it. I panicked and begin to scramble in search of an answer. I threw a towel on the TV to muffle to keep from looking at the screen, but the volume increased.
I grabbed my keys, and cellphone, headed for the door. As I make a dash for the door, I reach for the knob and a vision of Madea appeared. I freaked out, I snapped, I went for the window, they locked. I yelled as loud as I could. But my screams were drowned out by the canned laughter from of what is considered a sitcom. More I screamed, the louder the non-jokes came out, with non-real laughter. I closed my eyes, and reopened them to see if this is a dream. Nothing! The more I screamed "THIS SHOW IS NOT FUNNY", the louder it became. I retreated to the back of my closet and waited. My phone wouldn't allow me to make or receive calls, so there was no way to reach anyone and no one could reach me. I simply closed my eyes and lowered my head and like Tyler Perry prayed for the show to come to TV. I prayed it would go away. I fell asleep despite the loud non-authentic laughter coming from my TV, and the horrible voice of Madea screaming "whatcha doin". I woke to find myself still in my closet. I got up, the TV was off, but when I open of my door my room was filled with box sets upon box sets of Tyler Perry programming left behind. I'm still recovering. But my focus now, stands with bringing authentic laughter to television. I'm creating a proposition as we speak. I ask for everyone's support.


Proposition 58 2/3

If you create a sitcom, and if you call it a comedy sitcom, you have to by law have a written script by union writers, and if you have union writers, it has to have jokes in it. If this is not abided by, Tyler Perry should be shot in the face.

12-05-09

Let me make is disclaimer now, before the unnecessary feedback starts pouring in and those who think they know it all, begin to know too much.

I love comedy.  I love what it is that I do for a living.  I wouldn't and couldn't see myself doing anything else in the world. With that being said by no means is it always fun, or all that it may look like it's cracked up to be.......

 

 

In my down time I was thinking to myself....

...as I was walking around the Walgreens in Sacramento late last night, and I strolled down the magazine aisle to see if they had finally decided to carry "The Source Magazine", no such luck. But also I was casing to the place to see how easy it would be to shop lift if I so chose to do that. Much easier than in Wal-Mart I tell you. I picked up the new Blender issue with Jay-Z on the cover, flipped it open and scrolled through it, when I came upon the grading of the new albums released, I noticed Jennifer Lopez had a new album titled "Brave". And I thought how fitting of a title when you consider what "Brave" stands for by her usage. Brave can only mean how brave she is to continue to put albums out when her singing and dancing isn't getting any better. It was cool at first, because every actor is allowed that one mistake album or project, and it was her turn. But she keeps on doing the same mistake projects. Regardless if it's bad or terrible, it's nice that she refers to it as being" Brave". Every ethnic group has to have that one they try to hold on to and push, so I guess J Lo is the Puerto Ricans glimmer of hope I suppose. If all eles fails she can do Selena 2: The Return of The Girl that helped make Jennifer Lopez famous. That's a long title I know.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

 

Just For Laughs 2006: SATURDAY (FINAL)

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If you are a black person in New York City, whatever you do please don't reach…..

If you are black or darker than khaki, no matter what you do please don't reach, New York police will gun you down, handcuff you and still give you a ticket. I don't care if the president of the United States was calling you to pardon your mother from the death sentence, let her ass die. Because if you reach for your phone to take the call you will be joining her moments later and you two can talk all about it in the afterlife.  You think I may be joking, but I'm dead serious like the people who fall victim to the ones who are hired to serve and protect us. I wonder would we be better off if we just paid criminals to not be criminals simple as that. The only real difference would be they wouldn't have on uniforms like the ones we hire each day.  The criminals would be independent contractors and pay taxes at the end of the year.  It takes a lot to rattle me, but the other night as I was leaving one of my favorite comedy spots called The Comedy Cellar, located in the west village of Manhattan, I hopped on the D train uptown to the Bronx.  So I'm on a car that had maybe a total of seven people in it.  As we approached 34^th street stop the train came to a stop and was delayed.  So I propped my feet up in an empty seat so I could rest them until the train decided to proceed.  Moments later I get summoned off the train by NYPD.  The first thing that came to my mind, I know I'm not being profiled against as a terrorist. Do I look like I have street credit out here to get a bomb, I know I need a haircut but damn, give a brother time to get to the barbershop.  So as I'm seating waiting for an answer as to why I was pulled of the train, I become very annoyed.  It's late, it's cold and the rats in the subway need their time alone to play.  You would be annoyed to if you were trying to get home at three am in the morning and your journey was interrupted by New York's finest.  So when the cop comes over I immediately ask why I was pulled off and he gave me his I'm macho, super underpaid I'll beat the shit out of you attitude.   I let the sarcastic side of me lose and pretty much tried to push every button on this cop without getting shot. And boy did we get into it big time.  I told him I was in fear of my safety and I called him out on the shooting of the eighteen year old, boy why did I do that.  This cop steps back, takes a moment to himself and proceeds to put on gloves like he was a mafia hitman.  I just knew I was about to be erased from the census report of life. He tells me that I was pulled off the train for resting my feet.  Threatens to take my ID and throw me in jail, after he's beat the shit out of me.   I laughed and said you have to be kidding me right.  You didn't pull me off that train for being relaxed.  I would have been more comfortable if he had said, it was National Pull a Random Nigger Off the Train Day and I was random.  That would have been more acceptable than telling me that a person in the city that never sleeps, can't take a moment to rest because it's against the law.  Do you realize how hard it is to let down your guard for a moment in New York, only to find out it's against the law to do so?  What's next you can't drive home from a restaurant on a full stomach?  I hear cops now saying "how dare you get full, take a food with you and drive home happy?  Now I need for you to reach for that doggy bag so we can shoot you."

   And they say New York City.............

"one day it'll all make sense"

Below is the article about a eighteen year man shot to death because he was holding his hairbrush.

Man, 18, Is Fatally Shot by Police in Brooklyn

By BRUCE LAMBERT

A young man was fatally shot last night in a hail of 20 bullets fired by five police officers who responded to his mother's 911 call for help in a domestic dispute in Brooklyn, the authorities said.

The police said they believed that the man, Khiel Coppin, 18, had a gun. But when the gunfire stopped, it turned out that he had been holding a hairbrush.

Officers went into the building at 590 Gates Avenue, in Bedford-Stuyvesant, about 7 p.m. The police said they were responding to a 911 call from the mother reporting domestic abuse and asking for help to "deal with this," and that on the call a man was overheard threatening to kill her and claiming "I have a gun."

One resident of the building, Andre Sanchez, 17, said that after the police arrived, he saw from the hallway through the open door of the apartment that the officers inside were talking to Mr. Coppin, who was in a bedroom and opening and closing that door as they spoke.

Mr. Coppin then climbed out a first-floor window and confronted more officers outside the building, and multiple shots were fired at him, bystanders said. Wounded, Mr. Coppin fell to the ground and was handcuffed, witnesses said. He was taken to Woodhull Medical and Mental Health Center, where he was pronounced dead, the police said.

It was unclear how many of the 20 shots hit Mr. Coppin, a law enforcement source said.

Mr. Coppin's mother, whose name was not released, was among the people outside the building during the shooting. Earlier in the day, she had called a hospital psychiatric unit asking for urgent help in dealing with her son, the law enforcement official said. Psychiatric workers came, but Mr. Coppin was gone. After waiting two hours, the workers left, and later, Mr. Coppin returned.

Two bystanders who said they saw the shooting said that Mr. Coppin was not armed, but was carrying a hairbrush when he climbed out the window and that he dropped it when the firing began. The two witnesses also said they both heard one officer yelling for the shooting to stop.

According to the police, another witness described Mr. Coppin as concealing the hairbrush under his shirt, pointing it outward.

A restless crowd quickly gathered and grew to as many as 150, as some neighbors shouted protests against police brutality. "You need training — this is absurd!" one woman shouted out a window to the police. Another man pressed against a yellow crime-scene tape and said: "I'm not trying to start a riot. I'm just saying it's not right."

The site and surrounding blocks were cordoned off as dozens of police officers, detectives and community affairs officers arrived to investigate the shooting and control the crowd. Community leaders at the scene included City Councilman Albert Vann.

Witnesses and the police offered different details about how the shooting occurred.

Mr. Sanchez said that just before the shooting, he went outside and saw several officers there with guns drawn. Mr. Coppin approached the window, backed away, then returned and stood on the sill, Mr. Sanchez said. When an officer told him to get down, he jumped to the ground and started to go through a gate in the fence in front of the building, Mr. Sanchez said.

An officer told Mr. Coppin to put up his hands, and when he did he dropped the hairbrush and the shooting began, although one officer called out to stop the gunfire, Mr. Sanchez said.

Officers started chasing Mr. Sanchez and knocked him to the ground after, he said, he protested: "Why you got to shoot him like that, for nothing?"

A similar description of the shooting was given by Precious Blood, 16, who said she heard about 10 shots fired, most if not all by one officer. Another officer called out: "Stop, stop, stop shooting — he's down," she said, but the shooter kept firing, "like he was playing with a toy."

The law enforcement official gave a different version of the encounter, saying that Mr. Coppin charged toward the officers and refused repeated orders to stop. The police said they were also exploring the possibility that Mr. Coppin was trying to prompt a shooting, a phenomenon known as "suicide by cop."

Mr. Coppin's mother was at the 79th Precinct station house last night and gave a statement to the police, they said.

The five officers who fired all passed Breathalyzer tests, the law enforcement officials said.

 

AND THEY SAY NEW YORK CITY!

A night at The World Famous Apollo Theater

Before you read this, let it be known I ramble in thought.  Some of my blogs and journals are like Spike Lee's early films, a lot is going on in it. So here we go.

My very first television performance took place in August of two thousand three.   Against my better judgment I lowered my expectations of myself and tapped a comedic segment for BET's Comicview.  Unfortunately it was the only venue for black comics to get seen.  No disrespect to those who did it before or after me.  It just wasn't the venue I wanted to make my debut on. If you need five ask for ten and you may get seven, that' how I look at certain things.   I didn't want to go in the same direction as all the other black comics at the time.  I simply wasn't feeling the platform in which black comics were being displayed.  None the less I did it.  It tapped in Los Angeles of all places.  Just not the best place to do something of that magnitude.  And I only say this because in nineteen ninety-nine, late comedian  great, Mitch Hedberg did his half hour special in front of an audience that stared at him like a deer in headlights.  It was so unsettling to me.  Mitch was brilliant and a little before his time.  People ask me all the time "Maronzio were you nervous, how did you feel, did you know what you were going to say".  I was a little nervous, but I think I focused so much attention on what I was going to wear that it took up any time I had to be nervous.  All I know is, fifteen minutes before I walked on stage, I had yet to figure out what my opening joke was going to be.  Partly because at last moments notice, BET alerted me that I would be unable to wear my nostalgic Atari, t-shirt on stage.  And the other part was I was just hoping the joke angel had something for me when I got out there.  Ask fellow comedian Chris Spencer and close friend, who at the time knew most of comedy like a book.  Needless to say I did it, and I think I did very well.  I didn't use profanity to get my point across, nor did I use premises or topics that the other comics were using at the time.  I think Kobe and R. Kelly were the only jokes that were being told that season.  I honestly believed they dropped a box of those jokes on a bunch of comics and they all grabbed one.  It's sad I know, but hey what can you do.  If everyone was original, no one would be. Who said this business was about talent? It's about what the people view as funny, even if that means them hearing it one hundred times over, but from a different black comic in a different outfit and didn't voice, louder than the comic before him.  Because louder means funnier right?

So here's my chance to perform at the World famous Apollo.  An offer that came about, through a manager out of New York named Jason Steinberg.  We had talked on the phone a couple of times about working together, but hadn't finalized anything.  He calls me up around four something on a Friday evening and asks me would I like to perform at the Apollo.  My first response was, "sure but can I be honest Jason".  He said I wouldn't expect anything else from you.  I said "I would really like a half hour on Comedy Central".  I've seen the people who get them in the past.  There is no reason why I should even have to ask after what I have seen the past three or four years. It has nothing to do with people being funny obviously. Not to say all were bad, because some were hilarious and deserving.  But for the most part it was like a Kelis album, one or two good ones and the rest were ass.  He replied by saying the way they go about giving them out, I said the explanation bullshit and told him, if he can get me booked on the Apollo, go for it.  An hour or two later I get a call back from Jason, saying I got you booked for tomorrow night at the Apollo at six.  And right as he said that I almost shit on myself.  I really wasn't expecting him to say you're booked at The Apollo.

Now, knowing what I know about the Apollo and its track record and history, my first thought was, what I will say on this show. I take that back, my first thought was, whatever you do, don't get booed.  But following close behind in my thoughts like the FBI on Michael Vick, was what I was going to wear. This should have been the furthest thing from my mind at the time.  I shifted all my energy to my outfit like I was Kanye West getting ready for the Grammys.  I went to American Eagle, Banana Republic, and The Gap, searching for that outfit.  That outfit was nowhere to be found.  Had I had the proper help, I probably could have gotten a sponsor.  I finally settled on an outfit after hours of train hopping.

Saturday comes and the butterflies are ten in my stomach.  I spend the last waking moments before the car comes to pick me up, yes The Apollo sent a car for me.  I was shocked myself.  Anyhow the car came and I make way over to The Apollo.  As we approach The Apollo, a young man is running out of it at full speed, his tuxedo coat chasing behind him.  I immediately inquire at the commotion.  Turns out the young man running, was running due to getting booed by the crowd.  I was afraid to ask what he thought his talent was.  All I know is the crowd didn't think he had what he thought he had.  I'm directed to my dressing room by one of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure working with in the business. A bald headed fellow by the name of Ron, to cool for words.  He got me settled in, and came back to check on me several times until it was showtime for me.     I take a few photos of the dressing room, got dressed, and listened to Kanye West for theme music.   Ron came up stairs to let me know I had ten minutes until I was up.  The bubbles start to form.  I go in the bathroom, take a knee, spoke to GOD and made my way down the steps.

I'm about to go on stage in front of The Apollo crowd. Yes this crowd is known for ending careers, making people relocate from their home towns, even go in to witness protection programs.  All that came to light once I got the word from the stage manager that I would be up in ten minutes.  Even with my debut coming up in a few minutes, I couldn't help but think of how truly lucky Bobby Valentino is.  He was the special guest singer on the show.  I remember him a long time ago in that group Mista; with their one hit "Blackberry Molasses".  Then I only recall him releasing one song off his first solo project and here he is again with a second album, performing at The Apollo live, sort of.  I shook my head in disbelief and said there truly is a God, that' the only excuse for this.  Then they let this child go before me on the Apollo Kids portion, which soften the crowd a little, because the young man could really sing. Bobby Valentino tried to fight him later. He accused the young man of trying upstage Bobby, by having actual talent. Then I was thinking how can you boo a child?  So after he exits they say now for our featured comedian for the evening, they read my credits or something to that affect and brought me out.  I felt a rush come over me that can only be described as fear, but I was like"you're here now".  I went out on that stage, which looks humongous watching it from home.  Not as big as I thought, but big enough to hold enough, drunk, angry, disgruntle, you better be funny or else people that got in free.   My first joke went over well, being as I didn't know what I was going to say.  Then they stop tapping due to technical problems, right in the middle of my act.  I almost shit on myself.  But I had to make the best out of the situation.  So I did something to make the crowd laugh as I made my exit, gaining their respect I guess you could say.  They re-announced me   again and I had to a slight cushion of respect and six minutes later I was walking off to applauses.  Now I can't tell you all the jokes I made, because to be totally honest with you, I don't remember anything in the middle of my act.   I completely left my body and came back when it was over.  I walked off to people on the side cheering and congratulating me on my performances.  I was truly overwhelmed, but at the same time a little disappointed that I could not remember eighty percent of the experience, due to nervousness.  At the end of the day, ladies and gentlemen I made history.  I had the pleasure of performing on the same stay as Bill Cosby, Chris Rock, Sam Cook, James Brown, Ray Charles, and even Bobby Valentino.  No one can take that from me.  Even if I can't remember most of it.

"one day it'll all make sense"

Good old Richmond, VA

So my tour or shows rather take me to Richmond, Virginia for the second time.  The first time here so uneventful, I purposely blocked out the entire trip other than my family driving up from Charlotte to see me perform.   My first trip I was new to Myspace and all the glory it can bring.  I went to different pages emailing and inviting people out to the shows, as usual no one showed up.  I don't know what Dane Cook was saying to get people to come out, but my shit isn't working.

This time around I took a train from New York to DC and had a friend come scoop me and drive me the rest of the way to Richmond. This came about because I missed the train that would have gotten me in Richmond at 5:30, the next train wouldn't have gotten me in there until 9:00pm and the show started at 7:30.  So that was my only option.  Just another causality of the road.  All this because the comedy clubs don't believe the opening acts are worth paying for their travel.  They would much rather pay a local comic lesser money to tap dance.  I will be placing this well known fact in every journal so get use to it.  So every show you see me at, it's on my own dime ladies and gentlemen.

The train from DC got me in at 4:30pm, got off the train, made a dash for the car and hit the highway.  For those who don't know about the DC area, traffic is no joke getting in or out of the city.  Everyone comes to DC for work and leaves at the end of the day, not healthy to live right in the middle of political bullshit I suppose.

I arrived at the club with fifteen minutes to spare.  I had enough time to get my travel kit out my bag, wash up, trim my face, spray cologne over my travel odor, change shirts, drink a red bull, teach the host how to pronounce my name and take a piss. Performed, spoke to some people after a show, got the key for the infamous comedy condo, surveyed the place, and decided to sleep on the couch after further review.  The COMEDY CONDO for those who don't know, is a place where the comedy club houses the host, the feature, and one night headliners that they don't feel deserve a hotel room for the evening.  The COMEDY CONDO, is well lived in by comedians who have stayed in it over the years. However this condo was fairly new, only two months lived in.  Due to the fact the owner was the manager of the club and he mysteriously relocated and moved out all of a sudden, real Tom Cruise in "The Firm" type shit.

I wake up the next morning and I make a point to see Richmond, whatever there is to see I want to see it.  I never get to do radio with the headliner too often; it really depends on who I'm working with.  Out of all the people I've worked with Tony Rock, is the only person who considers the host, and the feature to as important to the show as he is.  That I do appreciate and learned from him, thanks Tone.  Richmond, VA, the gateway to the south, it must be.  The first slaves were brought to Virginia, so it's kind of understandable the behavior of the people in that area.  Some of them are aware of the rich horrific history and heritage of the place, and some of them are as clueless as the slaves that were brought there.  But that doesn't apply to just Richmond, because there are black people all over that are unaware of their history.  It's just really disappointing because Virginia was the hub or rather the distribution center for slaves in America. Kind of like BMG, buy one slave for a penny get twelve free.

I went to the slave docks where they dropped slaves off, I walked the actual slave trails that were used to transport slaves that were chained at the neck and feet at night so they didn't offend white people during the day with their sores and stench, from the ships to the downtown holding sells for auction.  When I walked that trail it sent something through me that I will never ever be able to shake.  We really take life and the opportunities for granted as black people. Not all of us, but enough that matters.

I worked with Paul Mooney as usual.  Now I have race material, some laughable and some that makes you think, but it's all funny.  I try not to go too hard when I perform about race, for one I'm not famous enough for people to give a fuck yet and the other reason is Paul, does such a wonderful job of letting every race have it, I'm pretty much the salad before the meal.  Now it's normal for white people to walk out on Paul's act, because he really lets them have it.  But it's a little disturbing when black people walk out feeling offended by what he's saying.  I truly don't get.  But I understand to a certain degree.  We're in Richmond, VA, home of slavery.  It's the "WE SICK BOSS" disease, and there is no known cure.  And it's not just in Richmond. But I suppose the ghost, spirits and presences of old slave masters and oppressors are looming about.  Some blacks feel like if we don't rock the boat and walk on egg shells, and pretend it never happen, and don't be causing no trouble. Everything will be o'tay.  I suppose that's the mentality of the people.  I studied the city and talked to the people, just so I can get an idea of what I was dealing with.  I'm not crazy by any means.  I know what I encountered.  First off there is no major sports teams in the area other than in nearby DC.  Its home of tobacco, drugs are heavy there, and crime is high.  That don't mean you tap out and accept what's around you.  I hate when people accept what's given to them.  That's such bullshit. Prime example, a US Airways woman in the Richmond airport could not assist me, and I don't know if it's because she was just released from slavery, but you would think if you are wearing dreads, it's because you are tad bit conscience or somewhat positive, or at least do poetry.  Not this chick.  She got some rules from her boss and was not going to believe anything else other than what he said.  I could have choked her with her braids.  Bob Marley would have been so disappointed in her. A waste of not combing your hair for a long ass time if you ask me.

Above all the shows were packed, I hung out with old highschool friends, my family came up once again and the comedy condo's AC and heat wasn't working the entire time.  So the first two nights it was hot, I slept with doors and windows open trying to stay cool and fight bug bites, then the rest of the time there I slept with the stove on and open, because it was cold.  It's a part of the game.  I didn't sell shit, although people did ask me did I have a CD or DVD.  I really have to comply something and push product.  This is just an abbreviated version of what will be in the book. Too much to fucking write right now. See you in the next city. And see you next year Richmond.

"One day it'll all make sense"

What is the "The Opening Act Tour", well allow me to explain....

For those who don't and for those who do know I've been touring, more like I've been the opening act for Paul Mooney going on almost two years now.  In that time I have performed at the world famous Just For Laughs Festival in Montreal(considered the NBA draft for comics), tapped Jamie Foxx's Laffapoloza, performed in front of the noturious Apollo crowd, that's been known to make and break careers.  I'll blog that experince later.

I bust my ass to get to the Monteral Festival, only to have a half as manager accompany me there and do what I could have done if I was a midget guarding Shaq, fucking nothing.  The festival use to breed development deals for comics, sitcoms, walk a way with an agent or a better manager.  But Hollywood, was burned by giving comics deals to develop shows and some of these retarded fucks would use the money to start rap careers or blow it on shoes, or create failed internet ideas.  So they stop doing it.  Plus the people they were selecting they couldn't develop film with.

I went I did what I was suppose to do at this festival.  And I feel I'm back at square one.

So I took it upon myself to make myself.  Can't get upset because Comedy Central will pick lame ass comics to put on their shows, or give undeserving comics who haven't been doing it long enough to call themselves comics God awful half hour specials.  But hey when you have the right people in your corner, pushing the lack there of, anything is possible.  Maybe my complexion isn't Hollywood friendly.

So at the beginning of the year I decided to start my own tour, fuck what someone won't give to me. If I wait on Comedy Central, or a network or Hollywood, I will Richard Jeni myself.  I called the tour and the book that will follow "The Opening Act".  I just journal and keep track of my journey of the cities I travel to, the clubs I work, the managers that run them, my crowd interactions, how I get around and how I am treated as the opening act.  All I can say is, there is nothing funny about being a comic.....

I'm about to be truly honest with you people.

 

"one day it'll all make sense"

 

Right or wrong, this is what I was feeling at the time I wrote this.

 

 

In two thousand one I packed up all my possessions and rented a truck and moved to Los Angeles, to a place I would now would like to call a beautiful lie.

 

I had never been to Los Angeles before I moved out here.  I just stepped out on faith and took a chance.  No pre-visit or test visits.  I just looked above and said God I'm going I hope you're going with me.

 

I came to Los Angeles to pursue my dream of become a little mover than average.  To show that all that getting in trouble in school wasn't in vain.  Tell some jokes, audition for some shows, pitch a few ideas, and ultimately get selected by the powers that be.

 

I first stepped on stage at fifteen.  My first taste of comedy by ear was Richard Pryor by ear on reel to reel player, my first taste by sight if my memory serves me correctly was Bill Cosby Himself.  He wore a brown suit and sat in a chair and opened my eyes.  My first time memory of me understanding comedy was an HBO special in eighty-five with Steven Wright. He blew my mind.

Then I got reintroduced to comedy on a different level when I saw Delirious with Eddie Murphy in eighty-three, not so much with RAW in eighty-seven.

 

Anyway the point is, I live in Los Angeles now, by I travel to New York once a month and live out there for two weeks at a time to do what it is I was born to do.  If I had it to do all over again I would have moved there first.  Los Angeles in my opinion is not the place to make comedy your training ground.  You can't develop out here.  Everybody wants a SHOW!  There is no workout night, or honest response.  I came to New York to better myself for myself.  Not for the studios, not for the industry, not for the crowds in LA, but for me.  I can't thank the city that never sleeps enough for what it has done for me in the past six months.

 

I play Carolines once, sometimes twice a month with Paul Mooney is how it started off, but now with almost anyone. Not the easiest room in the world to break into. It's on Broadway and it has history.  Not everyone can do that.

With that being said, let me get to the meat of the entry.  The twelve-thirty show didn't start until one in the AM last night.  Paul was running late so they started late.  He by one he still hadn't showed up so they started anyway in hopes that once I got on stage he would be coming in shortly.  The host went up and did about twelve minutes, brought me up and all I know is in a room of about two hundred thirty to two fifty people on a Friday night, after one AM in New York City, I did something you could never do.  I got on and in an hour later I was walking out to people standing up to a performance that I would like to call THE TRUTH.  I grabbed the mic, got comfortable, and took the crowd for a ride.

 

Paul never showed last night.  I don't know, the club doesn't know, we don't know what happened.  All I know is, at the end of the night I had headlined Carolines on Broadway and without disappointment, I gave the crowd an unexpected performance. 

Thank you New York for being so honest and true.

What can I say other than damn people. 

 

In Dallas, Texas performing at the Addison Improv, I'll speak on the town later, but on a day where all I could say is what else could happen.  Something else happened.  I'm seating the green room having a conversation with Paul Mooney, when the manager of the club comes in and says "there's a gentleman out here named Dick Gregory here to see you".  My eyes opened as wide as the possibly could as if I heard something Carlos Menica say something original or they plan on making Def Jam funny again.  I was like what the fuck, are you serious right now.  I can't even go in to detail on who Dick Gregory is as person, as a comedian, as a civil rights leader or an author.  To much to explain and not enough time in this day.  All I can say is google and read up for yourself.  I had a chance to perform in front of greatness and with greatness. It's as if Allen Iverson had a chance to break to the whole get a no look pass from Bill Russell, then Iverson dishing it off to Julis Erving coming down the baseline for a slam dunk.  (Pryor is Jordan that's why I didn't use him in the senario). But had he walked in the room, I would have shit on myself, then ran.  Because he's not suppose to be alive. Now why would I want to sit in LA and perform in a comedy club that's not even paying the comics, but the club is making money at the door, when I can see and make history...........

 

 

"one day it'll all make sense"