Voices

Voices                                  3752

Saturday, March 4, 2006-8:24 P.M.

 

I’m sitting in the lobby of the historic Lafayette Hotel in Marietta, Ohio, waiting around for the big 9:00 P.M. show with headliner Mike Dambra.  Oh, what a notable 24 hours it’s been.  Mike's been mocking me because I've been doing impressions since we left home on Thursday.  I'm no impressionist, but if I can sort of do the voice, I'll try to do it to get the laugh.  Problem is, I'm not that good....hence the mocking.  But that's the least of my problems today.

 

For starters, to recap the night at Morgantown, West Virginia, and the show at the Wits End Lounge in the Ramada Inn, all I can say is wow, what a weird gig.

 

We left Mansfield for our four hour drive and got into town without any sort of incident and checked into the hotel.  There was a Moose Lodge convention from all the chapters of Moose in West Virginia, and they bought every room in the hotel except for one, the one that Mike and I were scheduled to share.  We decided rather than be trapped in the room for six hours, we would go out and eat.

 

Mike and I have been touring together for a long time now, and even though we don’t work together much any more, both of us having gone our separate ways, we fall right back into the patters and rituals that have served us well.  We both enjoy the buffet restaurants, the ability to pick and choose several different foods rather than being locked into one entrée that may or may not be acceptable.  We rotate around the Chinese places as well as Ponderosa, Old Country and whatever wild-card restaurantsmay be available.  We were pulling for a USA Steak Buffet (they gots the steak), but none was to be had.  We were about to settle for Shoney’s (the home of the George Carlin donut-eating challenge…I’ll tell that story, maybe tomorrow if you’re good), when we happened upon a Chinese place called the Evergreen Buffet.

 

After scoring a nice Chinese sit-down meal (the buffet was good), we headed on back to the Ramada and stewed.  We didn’t mind sharing a room, but I still snore pretty bad, and I didn’t want to torture Mike and have him not get any sleep.  I would have slept in a supply closet if they had one, but they didn’t have one that wasn’t reserved.  While we were in the room, the phone rang; it was Larry, the mc from the old Morgantown room at the golf resort.  He knows Mike and me well, and we’ve worked together a bunch of times.  Larry’s father is Las Vegas legendary ventriloquist Danny O’Day…Danny’s puppet was Farfel the dog, and they starred in one of the first Nestle’s commercials.  As a matter of fact, Larry’s father wrote the jingle that Nestle’s still uses to this day…”N-E-S-T-L-E-S, Nestle’s makes the very best.”  Larry’s a great guy, too, but not that talented.  He worked in radio for 35 years, and he’s a very competent mc, so he was one of the bright spots in the evening.  Plus, he’s fun to pal around with.

 

When we got there, the bar was filled with Moose…the average age of the folks in the lounge was easily 50.  We were told ahead of time that we couldn’t say “fuck” unless absolutely necessary, and for both of us, we felt it was absolutely necessary.  The show started out with a joke-off, and all the people who told jokes were good and raunchy, which was comforting because they set the tone for the show and we really didn’t have to watch our P’s and Q’s.

 

I hit the stage and had a good show, and Mike went up rather tentative, but wound up rocking the room, did about an hour and five minutes, and still left them wanting more.  Afterwards we hung around and watched Larry’s son hit on the biggest woman in the room.  He started out dancing with her, and she was so big, he looked like he was just caught in her gravitational pull.  After the song was over, our shabby little lad went fishing for uneaten candy in Broadzilla’s mouth.  It wasn’t pretty.

 

After all of the festivities were over, we headed back to the room and Mike (MySpace addict) went on the computer while I passed out.  I woke up to the gentle ringing of my faulty cell phone alarm clock, and after battling to get back to sleep and losing, we got showers and went downstairs to take advantage of the complimentary breakfast buffet.  Now, most hotel breakfasts are pretty limited and terrible, and carb-heavy, which isn’t so good for a pre-diabetic like myself.  This buffet was awesome, with eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, fresh fruit, and all kinds of other treats.  After breakfast, we went out and tried to cash our paychecks from the night before (check gig…nothing worse) and couldn’t find the bank, so we decided to give up and head back to the hotel.

 

We had only a two-hour drive to the next gig, Marietta, Ohio, and I managed to get my first speeding ticket in five years of full-time road work.  I was going 82 in a 65, so I guess I had it coming, but the cop wrote me up for 74 so I wouldn’t get any points.  What a sweetheart…I’m still getting a fine.  But it’s West Virginia, so I have to pay in Confederate money.  And because I couldn’t find a bank, I don’t have it on me.  Fuck.

 

Our 9:00 show starts any minute now, so I’m gonna wrap it up.  We’re going to drive home overnight, and it’s about six hours, but with two of us in the car, we might as well try it.

 

O.K., I’m back.  Show’s over for me and Mike’s on stage now.  The group was small and a little chatty, but good.  They really made me work for it.  I think that’s good sometimes…it keeps you honest and reminds you that you always have to keep working and take nothing for granted.  You never grow as a performer without always reaching for the next level.

 

That’s all.  I’m going to pack up the laptop, watch the rest of Mike’s show and get ready for the 400 mile drive home.  Next week is Detroit, and another 4-day stand in Michigan.  I’m looking forward to it.  Also, my baby daughter Harmony turns 2 on Saturday, and we’re planning the big party for her on Sunday, so I’ll be driving home overnight next week, too.  For my daughter, I’d walk it if I had to.

 

Keep it real, sons ‘n’ daughters.

 

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY