Boy, you really screwed up this Time Warner Cable

Last night, I had a minor (read: major) freak out moment when I flipped over to trusty channel 74, The Travel Channel, to watch personal hero Anthony Bourdain do some travelling, griping and smoking in some exotic locale on one of the classier shows on TV, No Reservations. Much to my chagrin, some bullshit made for TV movie starring Lori Laughlin was on. Hmm, I thought, this isn't TC's usual fare. I figured something had gotten screwed up and the channels had switched on me or something of the ilk. NO, friends. TWC has bent me over and stuck a dry digit in my rectum, and I couldn't be more displeased. It turns out that TC has been replaced by "The N" which appears to be a Aaron Spelling network catered to women and fucking assholes. Today, "Noggin" is on 74, which I can only imagine is the daytime equivalent to "The N." Now, for those of you who don't know, I really enjoy traveling, or at least the idea of learning about other cultures and the way they live. This is why I relish shows like No Reservations and Andrew Zimmer's Bizarre Foods. To me, its entertaining and educational. So what gives TWC? Do we really need "The N"? Who benefits from this channel? Kids? Idiots? Not me, TWC, not me. I yearn for Anthony Bourdain and other travel shows, not fucking Degrassi High. (Sigh)



I did, however, watch a few shows on [adult swim] last night, including Metalocalypse, which is actually quite good though it took a few episodes to grow on me. I also watched Frisky Dingo, which I didn't quite get at first, but did a little research on and I think its really quite good, also. It's done by the folks who brought us Sealab 2021, which I absolutely adore for its inanity and unadulterated stupidity. Venture Bros. was also entertaining, and I would like to see more of the early episodes. I'm still not sold on Moral Orel though, as i find it less obscure and kind of preachy. I am also still not a fan of Robot Chicken, as I think its really just a way for Seth Green to spend his money and his friends' time. I guess it pays to sell pot in Hollywood.



In other news, I am not feeling well at all, and my body feels like I have been run over. I think I am running a fever, and I am hoping I have the energy to give my new Harold team a great first rehearsal tomorrow evening. I am excited about directing and playing Harold again. I am also thinking about putting some of this improv stuff down on paper and dialog with myself, as I am finding that its a lot easier to do than to think about. Adult Swim probably isn't going anywhere for a while, but people are going to get tired of the same old Family Guy episodes, right?

Apologies

I'm sorry if I have worried anyone. I have been having kind of a difficult time getting my shit together lately, and i'm looking for ways to turn my life around.

I'm working on it.

and

I'm working on it.

I'm bent over... now what?

Jesus Christ. I have to stop feeling this way.

It's hard to learn how to ride a bike when its already careening downhill

I am in a bad place
and
I am not a happy camper.


This hole is deep, and also wide.

(Intermission)

Just so you know, the NYC trip chronicle will be updated shortly. I've been a ittle busy with some other things, which I'll release soon.

Meanwhile, go rent or purchase Dead Heist. Thank me later.

and a psychiatrist came, and a college professor, and a movie actress in a bikini, and a Russian spy, and a French spy, and an English spy...

Saturday, July 28th -

Saturday morning Dave and I get on the train and go grab some breakfast before our noon rehearsal at the UCB Training Center. I had really enjoyed Bagel Maven, and since I am sort of a creature of habit when it comes to some things, we went there again. I have a bacon and Egg Bagel this time, and it does not disappoint. I find out Dave is not really a breakfast person, and discover that despite not being a morning person, I especially enjoy breakfast foods. I have a feeling I am going to be that old man who won't eat anything but English muffins and scrambled eggs, and I will watch Jeopardy every fucking night, brother.

I run into Lyndsay on the street, which is a nice surprise, as I have not spoken with her since I left Chicago, and it seems almost surreal to see her now. I get her number and plan to see her again. We meet up with Zach and John on the way to get my bracelet at the UCB Theater, and they look exhausted already. We head over to the space, and Erik and Jason Q. get there at about the same time. Corey is running late, so we start off without him. Our practice goes well, and it is great to play with the NY boys, all of whom have grown considerably as performers.

We end a few minutes before 2 so we can catch Papa Fibonacci over at the Hudson Guild Theater, which I must say, is certainly a great place to have as a second venue for this thing. Kudos to the organizers this year for finding such a suitable and nearby second theater. The closeness of the two venues is a welcome change at DCM this year. Papa absolutely kills it at their sparsely attended show, which is incredibly my first of this marathon. It does not disappoint. There's not much time before the next show, and the guys want to grab a quick bite before call-time, but my nerves are not allowing me to eat anything beforehand, so I settle for a vitamin water and a power bar. Quinn gets a shady looking crab salad, which he pretty quickly disposes of. We go into the theater, straight to the back area, where Big in Japan is warming up for their show @ 3:30. I see Bob B. and the other guys and high five them before their show. We meet up with Corey in the back and the next thing I know it's basically showtime. Everyone seems a little nervous, and I watch one of the monitors from the greenroom while BiJ is on. The crowd looks stoic. Yikes.

Diplomat hit the stage running on all cylinders. It was the wake up that the crowd needed, and it sure helped having a bunch of our hometown friends in the audience go crazy when Zach announces that we are here "from North Carolina." I feel a great sense of pride in that, and know that with it might come expectations of our performance, but I am ready to tackle the stage with the same tenacity I do back at home every week. I know how to do this, and by damn, I shall do it well.

(TBC...)

are you looking for love, God, a lost key chain? and little girls dripping ice cream peered into my darkness...

Nick and I arrive in the clusterfuck that is Times Square right as dusk starts to fall, so it is considerably cooler out already. It has been some time since I last ventured into Times Square, as I think we avoided it last year for the very reason I am beginning to remember. In New York, there are only two types of people: New Yorkers, and Tourists. Right now, Faber and I fit into the latter category, along with the rest of the thousands of people crammed into a few square blocks. Its frustrating to walk around, but still interesting to see all the yahoos. We go into Toys R Us, expecting to be blown away by the amazing Transformers and exclusive Times Square toys, but the selection is basically bullshit. We head into the Virgin megastore, where we indulge ourselves in some marketing goodness by having our pictures made with America's famous-est family, The Simpsons. There are a bunch of youngish kids from different countries, and my pose certainly elicits a response from two cute Japanese girls. I think, man I could make a killing in that country. Nick scouts through the graphic novels and I go to take a whiz. The toilet works fine, but the sink is broken and I think thank goodness this isn't a restaurant. We head outside and walk a little further down the block and contemplate our next move. I have successfully bought nothing thus far, so I test my resolve and enter both the Hershey's store and the Swatch store. The Hershey store has a fake chocolate scent pumping through the store, and it smells nice at first, but eventually makes me want to puke. The watches in the Swatch store are insanely expensive, and not nearly as cool as I had hoped they would be. Still, I purchase nothing. Faber and I are not impressed with Times Square, and both agree that it is time to get the fuck off of our feet. On the way back to the train, we spot the not everyone's hero, The Naked Cowboy, but the Naked CowGIRL. She is a little busted in the face, but its great watching old foreign dudes eye-fuck her while she sort of prances around not really playing the guitar.

Faber and I head back to his new digs, which are really quite nice. We make a few phone calls and realize that neither one of us really wants to go back downtown, and that it might be fun to hang out locally in the Seinfeld part of town. I call my ol' pal Hez, and she and Deaner meet us at a place called The Heights for dinner and drinks. This is expensive, but very nice to catch up with my old pals. Hez is just as bright and wonderful to be around as ever, and though Dean seems a little jaded, but just as hilarious and sassy as ever. I feel a bit bad for Faber, who seems a bit out of place as we regale one another with stories from a years ago, of rooftop bars and showmances, of liars and thieves, of cocaine and alcohol, of the drama. I always think of people who describe shared memories to those who were not there as trying to describe a show that they will never see. I think they respond in that same sort of way too, as I'm sure Nick said: Sounds hilarious.

We want to have a couple more drinks elsewhere, so we decide upon The Ding Dong Lounge, where I had the pleasure of visiting a few years prior and had absolutely loved. It's everything a dive bar should be, plus more: dark as hell, with walls that seem perpetually wet, cheap beer, a pool table, and hardcore fucking drunks everywhere you look. If you could still smoke in bars in NYC, this place would have a nicotine haze you could slice with a knife. Ont he way there, a rat chases us for almost an entire block.

Brian joins us eventually, and seems a little distracted, but ready to party. We shoot the shit a while, and eventually all feel the pangs of our long days. My legs already feel like jello, and tomorrow would be the longest day of the trip. There was work to be done, and comedy to be made.

and they asked me, are you looking for oil, treasure, gold, the end of China?

And now, the continuation of our tale...
Friday, July 27th.

I have an 11 A.M. workshop with Owen Burke of UCBLA and Respecto Montalban fame, but I am up sort of early, and my stomach's still rumbling from whatever the hell I put inside of it last night, so I decide to go downtown and walk around by my lonesome for a bit. I go to Bagel Maven and grab a really nice bagel & shmear and coffee and walk around 30th & 8th. I stand in front of Madison Square Garden and watch people.

I find the UCB Training Center building. The elevator opens up right into the lobby, and the whole place is a lot nicer than you'd expect. I immediately walk right past Kevin Mullaney, and the couches in the lobby are filled with some young improv dudes talking shop. I feel like a tourist for sure, and do not want to really engage in conversation with anyone, I hit the john and go locate the classroom around the corner, sit and wait with a couple other dudes. A few others pour in, and then Owen strolls in right at 11. It ends up with only 8 of us in the class, 6 dudes and 2 chicks. There's a nice mix of experience and nuance, stage players and student players, patient and proactive. My scenework is alright, I realize its been over a year since I've been on the learning end in a class atmosphere, and at least 6 months since I've been coached. The class is a Harold workshop, & I wouldn't have taken it otherwise. Owen is a fine teacher, but I think the class is about 65% committed, so there's some real hesitation for the first half of the class. Eventually, we start doing full Harolds and break things down. I hear some of my own teachings coming out of Owen's mouth, and I realize that I have a pretty decent understanding of what scenes need in order to get them to where they need to be. Not only do I know what I need to do personally to get there, but I feel like I have a knack for identifying specific traits in others, too. (I'm still no Asaf, but hey, who is?)

Nick meets me outside right afterward, and we go grab a slice of pizza after a lot of deliberation on where to eat. We call Corey and go meet him in Brooklyn so we can walk over the Brooklyn Bridge. Along the very hot and very long walk from Park Slope to the bridge, we stop in some comic book / toy store and then Nick spots The Brooklyn Superhero Supply & we convince Corey to let us go in. It's a lot more elaborate than I expect, and there is a "portal" which reveals the relaxing and dapper tutoring center in the back. I am impressed. We trudge on, and my feet are blistering like crazy. I am not wearing socks, like the genius I am, so we take a detour into the Brooklyn Target, which is frankly quite scary. We hydrate and sock up and plow on. The bridge is great, and we stop up top to take some pictures.

Again, I am fascinated with bridges, and please notice how they have a bit of a theme throughout this trip. Corey is tired already, but has to go work at the theater, so Nick and I go to be really touristy in Times Square.