Lucky Town

Lucky Town                                          2419

Wednesday, November 30, 2005-9:44 P.M. CDT

Reporting live from my non-show having, day-off napping, listless, workless, non-paycheck earning luxury suite at the Ramada Limited in Paducah, Kentucky.  Honestly, it's the nicest $41 room I've ever rented.  It's actually a suite, and it's so nice I get the feeling that folks down here in the South don't really know how much things are worth.  In Upstate New York, I'm quite confident that I would've grabbed my ankles and had my hotel key swiped up my ass, magnetic strip to the left, if I had to pay for this room on a night off.  God bless the Confederacy.  Also, I'm across the street from a Huddle House, that fine Southern Waffle House wannabe, where my lunch waitress couldn't stop commenting on the trucks going by.  I guess a three-truck convoy down here is the Southern equivalent of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

My day couldn't have started any worse.  Some yob was knocking on my door at 9:00 in the morning, claiming to be housekeeping, but mocking me, saying they were a comedian, too.  I have a feeling it was someone from the show last night, but didn't care.  Then my cell-phone alarm started malfunctioning.  It didn't ring when I had it set, but it started ringing after I turned it off, every 5 mintes without fail.  It finally stopped, just before I succumbed to the temptation of winging it off the Tallahatchee Bridge.

I checked out of the hotel maybe 15 minutes late, and my oil light in my car came on right away.  4 quarts of Castrol full synthetic later, procured at a nearby Auto Zone, and I was back on the road, with one slight problem...my car hood would't latch.  I was able to close it, but it refused to click down.  I knew that wouldn't suffice, because at 80 miles per hour (my regular driving speed), my hood was sure to blow off the car, and I wasn't interested in launching a 40-pound metal kite and then driving hoodless like one of the Duke boys.

I found a garage, but the guy was swamped and really couldn't help me.  He pointed me out to a body shop across the road, and before I could get over there, he came running back out and helped me figure out what was wrong with my latch.  I had applied WD-40, but didn't know which component to manipulate, and a quick pry-out with a screwdriver did the trick.  I really appreciated his help, and slid him a gratuitous $5 for his assistance.  He initially refused, but I made him take the money.  It occurs to me that a five-dollar tip might hurt some Southerners feelings...Lincoln really didn't do that much for the South during his presidency.

So today was just a chill-out day to regroup.  I have some plans in the works that will drastically change my career, or at least the way I do business.  I haven't ever had any career goals except to go out and entertain, and I realize that show business is so much more than that.  I'll post more as things begin to gel.  In the meantime, I'm continuing to monitor the destruction of the Republican party here in the U.S., and I'm laughing with every new indictment.  I think there should be Republican trading cards so kids can put "Scooter" Libby and Tom DeLay in the spokes of their bicycles.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

P.S.  Here's a picture I though you'd enjoy...it's a collection of Rochester/Western New York comics all collected in one place...it's a good chance this group will never be in the same room as many have moved out of town, out of state, and jail (no kiddin').

Back Row: Mike Ruiz, Ray Salah, Kevin Berry and V.J. Stanley

Second Row (staggered-try to follow along): Lamar Williams, Jeremy Schachter, Matt Bergman, Steve Burr, Annette Lorenzo, Mark Wiedmann, Tiny Glover, T.L. Johnson

Front Row:  Mike "Pickle" Dambra, Yours Truly

Tiny hid behind me, making me take up pretty much 25% of the whole photo.  Dammit.

What's neat about this picture is that we're all still working and progressing, for the most part, and that's why you'll never see us all together again.

RT