Border Song

Border Song                                                                                        1036

Hello, from Flint, Michigan, or rather, Grand Blanc, the suburb where folks still have jobs and money.  Two shows last night at Pesto's Comedy Club with the effervescent David Graham and our mc Tony, who is basically a host at the club.  He looks like Michael Jackson, pre "Off The Wall" era, and noting so got a nice laugh from the second show folks.

Both shows were sparsely attended, and the hecklers were out in force.  The casual nature in which the club is run is also a problem, as guests wind up sitting anywhere and everywhere instead of in a tight little group.  Also, the servers learned how to whisper in a helicopter and have never been to a comedy show.  If they weren't paying me, I'd swear I was being punished for something.

I cut through Canada to get here; it's the quickest way from Upstate New York.  It took me three minutes to get into Canada...the customs officer asked me three questions, the last being "Are you funny?"  The first one was "where do you live" and the second one was "what do you do for a living?"  Of course, I answered the "are you funny" question with "they pay me every week to be funny all across the country."  Like most, comics, I hate that aspect of the job...it's almost become a cliche that when people find out you're a comedian, they need you to prove it.   A guy at the bar last night said, "You're a comedian?  Tell me a joke."  I said "I'm a professional comedian.  Give me a dollar."  It's a stock response, but I think it tells the story right there.  No other profession gets asked that.  "You're a policeman?  Hit me with a stick, read me my rights."  It ain't gonna happen.

My wife wants me to send a copy of my demo tape to Ellen DeGeneres.   I've never watched her show, and I don't know if I would want to be on it, but maybe a TV credit would stop people fromasking me if I'm funny.  Nobody asks Dave Chapelle if he's funny.  Then again, strangers don't come up to me on the street and yell "I'm Rick James, Bitch!"  You trade small comforts, I suppose.

Anyway, two more shows tonight, and they should be properly attended.  It will be interesting to see if the folks I met in San Antonio show up.  Either way, I'm bound and determined to have a good time with it, regardless of how many people show up.  I started doing comedy years ago because it was fun, and I'm going to make sure I don't lose sight of that.  It may be a little difficult because my daughter seems to be getting sick again which I'm not thrilled about, and a close family member is in the hospital.  I'm trying not to be preoccupied about it, but I'm 350 miles from home, and if something happens, there's nothing I can do to help.  Not that I could do anything to help if I was home.

After all, I'm not a doctor.

"You're a doctor?  Cure me."

It doesn't happen.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY