Welcome To The Machine

Welcome To The Machine                                 1943

Monday, October 10, 2005-4:30 A.M.

It's the one-year anniversary of my near career-ending injury, which I didn't realize until I looked at the calendar just now.  It's fitting that I'm taking this week off, because I've reached a sort of burnout point for the year.  I'm not happy not to be working this week, but I am happy that I don't have to drive all over the midwest and come home with less money than I left home with.

I drove home overnight from Harrisburg, PA and the Comedy Zone at Doc Holliday's steakhouse.  It's one of my favorite clubs to play, because it has a nice stage, good sound and lights, good attendance, and the folks are smart and playful; they don't groan or stare if they don't like or get a joke.  Saturday night, we had a bachelor party the first show, and a bachelorette party the second show.  The bachelorettes were well-behaved, respectful, and unencumbered by the usual penis-straws, dildoes and other junk...it was a perfect evening.  Merchandise sales were very good, and I was second-guessing driving home overnight, but the rain had broken, and I decided to get it over with.  I rolled into Rochester around 7:00 A.M., was in bed by 8:00 A.M., and still woke up in time to watch the Bills beat the Dolphins (barely).  Congratulations Kelly Holcomb...you're not gonna make us forget that other Kelly we used to have, but a win is a win, and we thank you.

Our furnace shat the proverbial bed today as we made the decision to fire the old girl up, and like so many women before in my life, she let me down.  Our repairman paid us a visit today and pronounced her dead on arrival, and told us that he would be willing to cart away 2,500 of our dollars if we would take a new one off his hands.  That's a small price to pay not to freeze in the night in a Rochester winter.

If we're unable to get things rolling with the new furnace, I am going to seriously consider taking Pam and Harmony on the road with me, just to ensure that they have someplace warm to stay, although long roadtrips to Greensboro, North Carolina and South Bend, Indiana beckon, interspersed with short rides to Erie and Reading, Pennsylvania.  Also, I'm in a condo situation in South Bend, and it's considered bad manners to bring along the wife or girlfriend, because you're sharing quarters with one or two other comics.  But that's three weeks away, and hopefully, we'll have our situation rectified by then.

I'll leave you with a joke I heard this weekend.  It's actually a joke that has to be heard rather than read, so you'll have to do a little work on your end to really get the joke.  Here goes:

One of President Bush's advisors is giving him a briefing on the Iraq war, and he tells him, "Mr. President, this weekend, three Brazilian soldiers were killed."  And the President responds, "Oh no, not three Brazilian soldiers!"  And the aid said, "Mr. President, I understand your concern, but it was only three Brazilian soldiers."  And the President says "Wait a minute....how many is a Brazilian?"

I laughed my ass off, and of course, "And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'tis that I may not weep."  -Lord Byron

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY