Theme For An Imaginary Western

Theme For An Imaginary Western                   4753  (603)

Monday, May 22, 206-6:05 A.M.

Wrapping up the weekend in North Carolina, I'm about to head off on my 13-hour drive home.  Compared to the nightmare drive I did last week, it seems like a cake-walk, but it's still a sizeable chunk of driving that will pretty much eat my whole day.  I'm going to work the phones and see if I can't fill in some of the holes in my schedule for July and September and beyond, and that should also help melt away some of the miles by keeping busy.  Don't worry about me, though...I promise to keep my eyes on the road, even if I have to write dates in my calendar while I'm doing it.

Saturday was a good day, I went out and ran some errands, including getting new shoelaces to replace the busted one from Friday night.  And Walgreen's turned out to be the perfect place for such things, along with postage stamps and some VHS movies for my dad.  He's 73 and refuses to switch to DVD, so when I see movies in the old format, I pick them up for him.  I got him a bunch of titles I'm pretty sure he doesn't have, and might enjoy, although "Dogma" might be a stretch.  Still, maybe I underestimate the old man, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The shows were great, and I think I'm really understanding how to cater to the Greensboro audiences.  In the past, they've really turned off to me (as soon as the mc announces that I'm from New York, even though it's just Rochester, it means nothing to the Southern ear....New York is New York, and that's it).  Now, I've been there five times, and I really go in and grab 'em from the first line, don't give them too much to think about, and really keep it simple.  It's what they enjoy; think Larry The Cable Guy.

I riffed a line or two that really hit home, and I think I'm going to have to work that stuff into my regular set.  That's one of the benefits of working the road so much, I improvise so much material that I generate it and test it faster than I ever could just working open mics at home.  My first ten years of comedy were so stagnant, I thought I'd never be "ready" (whatever that means) to feature or headline, and now it's so fluid, it's like second nature.

The late show was a knife-fight and a half.  Headliner Shaun Jones and I teamed up with our merchandise, offering a two-fer deal with his DVD and my CD, and we were able to make a nice chunk o' change.  Shaun is an excellent comic, one of the best I've ever worked with, and a super nice guy as well.  We'd worked together a couple of times before, and I just marvel at the ease with which he goes into a room and takes it apart.  He was living in Los Angeles, but moved back to Atlanta, which is probably a good city to base yourself out of...I have to imagine airfares are pretty reasonable out of a hub city like that.

Sunday was a quick run down to Fayetteville, North Carolina...Shaun called it "Fayette Nam," which made me laugh out loud.  It's the home of Fort Bragg, and it's a town full of red-meat, red-blooded, red-state votin' Bush lovers, in other words, I'm a New York Yankee Faggot Jew to them, even though I'm a married Catholic from Upstate...still, that Budweiser bottle that's doing the translating for them doesn't help my case.  When the prosecuting attorney is 100 years of Civil War shame, I'm going to the big Liberal Hoosegow whether I like it or not.  Last night was different, though...I really hit home on the first show, which was packed, and I think I benefitted from a lot of older people in attendance who were more polite, and stabilized the hooligan element of the room.  The second show was sparse, and a little wild 'n' wooly at times, but still nothing I couldn't handle.  Steve, the house mc, gave me a nice little tag line to one of my core bits that's gonna probably be a keeper, although now I have to change the rhythm of the piece to get it to fit in, but repetition will smooth out the bumps, I'm sure.

This week, it's off to Chicago, or rather, the suburb of Merrillville, Indiana, a nice little room just outside of the lawless tire-fire that is Gary, Indiana.  I understand from good buddy Mike Dambra that the management of the Wisecrackers club at the Raddison has changed, and I'm actually happy about that, because I didn't really care for the old guy that used to run it.  He was a nebbishy sort and he always got my name wrong when he introduced me, even though I'd been there a half-dozen times.  We'll see how the weekend shakes out under the new regime.

O.K., I'm about to rub some dirt in it and take a lap.  I get two days off, and then it's off to Michigan and Indiana.  I hope it doesn't get too hot today, I have no air conditioning.  At least my car windows still roll down (knock on wood).

Peace be with you.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY