I've Been Everywhere

I've Been Everywhere                          5743  (1803)

Friday, September 29, 2006-12:30 CDT

So, where were we?  Oh yes, I'm 1,000 miles from home, and working my 10th show of a 12-show, 17-day tour.  It's an understatement to say that I'm looking forward to heading home.

I was smart to get a hotel room for the two days off, Sunday and Monday.  Monday, I was able to get laundry done, as well as secure an oil change for my beloved Toyota Corolla (315,000 miles and still running like a champ).  Plus, I got to rest and relax a little....I could've driven the extra 400 miles and copped a free room in Dickinson, North Dakota, but after the long drive on Sunday, I needed a day to just even out and get some rest.  Thankfully, I have a contact at the AmericInn in Fargo who got me a good rate at the hotel...I hate dipping into my pocket on days off, but it was necessary.

Tuesday in Dickinson, ND was a treat, like it always is.  I swear, for the aggravation, I still have fun there.  The crowd is very blue-collar, and they just don't have that "sit down, shup and listen" thing figured out yet.  It's like a pep rally, with audience response after every joke, and sometimes every setup.  Sometimes I feel like a Baptist minister, and they're all saying "Amen, preacher!  Praise the Lord!" but with six beers in them, and they aren't saying "Amen," they're saying "Hey, man!"  I still go...it's the only gig that I play that's in the Mountain Time Zone, and I feel like a time traveller when I go there, like somehow I'm going into the past.....one minute it's 2 o'clock, and then a few seconds later, it's 1 o'clock.....I'm from the future!

Wednesday was Watertown, South Dakota.  The gig was at "The Boiler Room," a bar in the basement of the Best Western Conference Center.  It was a six-hour drive through absolute nothing to get there, and then the itinerary said the show was at 7:30 P.M, when in fact it was actually 9 P.M.  I sat around for 90 minutes in my show clothes, trying not to sweat up my freshly ironed shirt and playing poker for points online to kill the time.  The show itself was o.k., but nothing to write home about.  My first time in South Dakota earlier this year was much more favorable, but the headliner, Dave Nickerson from Phoenix, Arizona, fared about the same, so I didn't feel so bad.  Still, it's unsettling when you're used to getting a certain feedback from a joke, either a big laugh or sometimes an applause break, and you get a "B" laugh.

I killed some time today during my six-hour drive by rocking the phones to line up some work in January.  I scored two weeks of work, one in San Antonio, Texas, and one in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania.  If you wanna work in this business, you have to get on the phones.  And I don't recommend trying to do it in South Dakota.....my cell signal was coming in and out like a Canadian radio station.

Tonight, it's the Starlight Lounge in LaCrosse, Wisconsin.  I had a really good show, even though the cordless mic crapped the bed on me twice.....you gotta check the batteries, ladies!  I did a good portion of the show accapella, which was easy for me...I grew up in an Italian family, so you had to yell and scream if you wanted to be heard.  I used it to my advantage, ad-libbing on the technical difficulties and the crowd seemed to like it.  After the show, I seemed to have a lot of good feedback from military personnel, who enjoyed some of my military-themed material.  Like most comedians, I appreciate the validation....it makes me think I'm moving in the right direction.

Tomorrow, it's off to Rum Runners in St. Cloud, Minnesota, for two shows in two days, and then the big drive back home.  I'm more than a little excited about seeing my family again, and even though I've got a lot of work to do to winterize the old homestead, I'm looking forward to it.  The thought of firing up the furnace, getting a nice pot of homemade garlic vegetable soup going on the stove, and playing "gonna getcha" with Harmony are making me absolutely giddy, along with the idea of laying down to sleep with my pretty wife by my side, not having to lay down alone, hugging a pillow and worrying about the long drive the next day.  I'm home for about two weeks, except for helping out the new Comix Cafe in Syracuse the next two weekends, and those are both drive-out, drive-back propositions.

It's going to be nice to be back home, and with the holidays right around the corner, I'm in the right frame of mind to over-romanticize my homecoming.  But you know, it's better that way.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

The Bug

The Bug                                  5708  (1768)

Sunday, September 23, 2006-1:30 A.M.

Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug.

Thursday night's gig in Spicer, Minnesota was definitely one that I would like to forget.  Everything that could possibly be wrong with the place was wrong, except for the two nice girls running the room....I could find no fault with Gretchen and Leah, they did everything possible to make myself and headliner Wes Zyharuk comfortable short of extracting and disposing of our seminal fluids.

I knew when I checked in that this was going to be a prototypical "hell gig."  For starters, the town had a very small population and was in the middle of nowhere.  For you film buffs, that's pretty much the way "Children of the Corn" got started.  Not good for a traveling standup comic.  Secondly, the room was very small, a barroom at best with a seating capacity of about 40, and no discernible stage.  Comedy is a pretty fragile art form, you really can't just throw it up anywhere like a Woodstock poster and expect it to automatically tie the room together.  You need subtle things like sight lines, service aisles, stage lights, and other such nonsense.

Thirdly, our "mc" was a drunk kid who washed dishes there, had been drinking since he was 19, and was only there to be a buffer between nothing and the show, meaning me.

After a finely butchered introduction (I'm not Rob, and I'm not from New York City), I took the stage with all the authority of a substitute teacher trying to hand out the homework assignment.  I think most of the folks in the room didn't actaully pay to get in (a fourth problem), and henceforth did not respect the integrity of the show.  One guy actually told me to go home.  He was a dick, and I let him know it, but sticking around and doing my show anyway. 

Wes did his act, but confessed later on that he had to remove himself from the room while I was getting carved up.  I totally understood, but I hung out and watched him get butchered anyway.  My morale couldn't have been lower if you told me that my wife didn't really love me and our daughter wasn't mine.  Gretchen and Leah apologized up and down, and paidus cash for our troubles.  I bid Wes a farewell (he was heading back to Toronto overnight) and retired to the upstairs room to sleep a dead, dreamless sleep.  After the show, a couple of people came up and said they enjoyed the show, and they were sorry the other folks were such bores, and why did they have to come out to comedy if they weren't going to act appropriately.  It was nice, but provided no salve.  One guy went so far as to say that I made a mistake telling people that I was from New York, that I automatically earned the crowd's disdain because I thought I was better than them.  He even identified me as a Buffalo Bills fan, which provided no kinship even though their Minnesota Vikings hold the only other claim to an 0-for-4 Super Bowl record.  What about Rochester spells cocky and condescending?  I guess I'll never know.

I drove all day Friday, coming out of the cold and rain of Minnesota into the milder temperatures that Wisconsin held.  I passed into Illinois and through Chicago around 10 o'clock at night, a perfect time to travel as there were no traffic slowdowns or backups.  I happened through a sliver of Indiana and made it into Michigan around 1:30 in the morning and decided to catch some rest at a patrolled rest stop along I-196.  I got about 5 1/2 hours of sleep in, and then headed the rest of the way into Muskegon.  I was able to check into the hotel, even though I was 7 or 8 hours ahead of check-in time.  They weren't real busy, so it wasn't a problem.

I had a little breakfast, picked up a few items at Wal*Mart, and finished up my night's sleep, wanting to be rested for my headlining show at Rossi's here in Muskegon.  I have worked Rossi's around five or six times, but always as a feature, so I was a little apprehensive about how I would go over as a headliner.  When I arrived at the club, Rossi himself met me and motioned me over, and as he started talking to me, I felt more and more at ease.  He mentioned that he saw my name on the schedule as a closer and didn't flinch because he thought I was destroying as a middle act, and that it was time to move me up.  I explained that I worked with Carol from Hysterical Management over the summer, and she was impressed with what I was doing on stage and made the decision to promote me.

Well, I'm proud to say that I didn't dissapoint, and not only that, but if I can pat myself on the back a little, I destroyed.  I can't remember a time when I was so comfortable in a comedy room, except for perhaps a week ago last Friday when I got my standing O in Topeka.  I think the common element was that both shows were in rooms that I had played a couple of times before, and so I didn't have to compensate a lot for the change in geography and I learned the lessons of what the folks would like and what they wouldn't care so much for before.  Regardless, I crushed, and Rossi was quite pleased.  I hung out with the middle act for a while, talking shop, and finally I decided to break camp and head back to the room.  I have a couple of days off, and have to be in Dickinson, North Dakota on Tuesday for the first night of a five-day run.  I've got a deal on a hotel room in Fargo, North Dakota, but it's gonna take me 15 hours to get there....that almost wipes out Sunday altogether...I don't know if I feel good about paying for a hotel room and only getting a few hours of a stay out of it, but the alternative is sleeping in my car, and I've had enough of that shit for one week.

O.K., I'm going to get some sleep, I think.  I have a thousand miles in front of me (actually more like 900, but who's counting?) but I have two days to do it, and I'd rather do it on a full night's sleep.  I'm just excited that I'm heading down the home stretch, and get to go home in a week.  But I'm working almost every night this week, so time should fly pretty quick.

Peace to you.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

In The Forest

In The Forest                   5689  (1749)

Wednesday, September 20, 2006-11:30 CDT

Continuing my whirlwind tour of the North American prairie, I'm in Spicer, Minnesota today.  It's a day off, and tomorrow I have a show at O'Neil's Irish Pub, which is downstairs from the Green Lake Inn, the bed and breakfast where I currently reside.

Saturday in Topkea was kind of a letdown after Friday night's standing ovation.  I went up and did basically the same show, but the audience just wasn't giving it back.  I know I should never blame the audience, it's my job to entertain them, but I just couldn't match the intensity of the night before.  Scott, the headliner, had similar problems and it wasn't like we did a bad show, but we didn't do the show we wanted to have.

The biggest problem I was facing after the show was how to get to Harris, Michigan in time for a 7 PM show, and losing an hour getting there by crossing from Central to Eastern time.  I decided that I should sleep a little, and then get in the car and do my best.  I couldn't wind down from the show until about 1:30, and my alarm was set for 3:00.  I got about an hour and a half's worth of sleep, showered and headed to the car.  After a short period of disorientation, I found my way to the expressway and started heading northeast.

I had coffee, courtesy of a 24-hour McDonald's....haven't they changed the game all the way around....and headed out.  I drove into Kansas City, and got lost due to the labyrinth nature of their downtown, the darkness which was pervasive, and an early-morning rainstorm that flooded the streets and drove me to piss in a one-liter water bottle rather than get out of the car to take a leak.  I finally got my bearings and headed north through Missouri and into Iowa, and the sun finally started coming up.  By the time I hit Wisconsin, somewhere around the noon mark, I started doing the math and realized that I was going to be cutting things rather closely.  In addition, the Green Bay Packers were playing the New Orleans Saints at home, and I would be driving right through Green Bay as the game was letting out....bad sign.

I hauled ass at some pretty ungodly speeds, and wound up passing the stadium as the game progressed.  The Saints and Packers were all tied up most of the game, which was good for my cause, because a Packers blowout would have sent the Green 'N' Gold faithful to the exits and jammed my route northward.  Even though the Saints pulled away with two quick scores in the second half, I was still able to whiz past Lambeau Field, admiring the full stands of Packer faithful.  The week before, the Saints had played in Cleveland, and I saw the stadium filled with orange and brown, and I felt a little deja vu for my troubles.

I wound up at the casino just a little past six, in time to get a nice shower and dress for the show.  It wasn't terrible as far as casino shows go, but the stage in Harris is just a little inconvenient for comedy.  The bar runs in a semi-circle in front of you, then an arc of video poker terminals, and finally the tables where the comedy audience is, the folks who are actually paying attention.  I gave them a solid feature set and then headed over to the restaurant for a much-needed complimentary meal (I had the meatloaf, which was excellent, if such a thing can be said about meatloaf).

The rooms that are provided in Harris are jacuzzi suites, and I took advantage of the pulsing water on my stiff, arthritic legs.  I had spent 14 hours in the car, pushing the gas pedal down to speeds of 80 or more, and I needed some relaxation.  I enjoyed the last bit of "Kill Bill Volume 2" which was showing on TBS, and after seeing it for the first time only last month, I can say that it's becoming one of my favorite films.  I'm a Quentin Tarantino fan anyway, so it's not that much of a stretch.  After the movie, I toweled off and decided that I couldn't sleep, so I went back downstairs to the casino, had a snack and a beverage, and made my way to the nickel slots.

I've had some good luck with the nickel slots at Harris in the past, and my luck was still running to the black.  I turned 20 bucks into just shy of 30, and satisfied that I probably wouldn't do much better by hanging around, cashed out and went back to the room, where I slept soundly, the events of the past 24 hours finally catching up with me.

The road to Duluth was uneventful and boring...I did get a chance to soak up the beauty of the Ottawa National Forest in Wisconsin, but I'd done that drive before.  It's just trees, trees and more trees, and the occasional gas station, small town, and then back to the forest.  I checked into the Voyaguer Lakewalk Inn, and met up with headliner Wes Zaharuk later for a  few beers at Carmoody's, an Irish pub just a few blocks from the hotel.  We met some interesting characters, including some of the members of a local band called Trampled By Turtles, and hung out until about 1 AM.

The show on Tuesday was almost a disaster; the mc didn't show up, so the door guy served up a butchered introduction and brought me onstage to a crowd colder than a penguin's ass.  They really didn't start coming alive until I started serving up the graphic sex stuff, then suddenly I was a superhero and they couldn't get enough.  Wes did his thing, which is a sort of magic/variety act, and afterwards, we had a lot of the college-aged kids coming up to us (mostly drunk) and offering up praise of the "You were really funny/you should have headlined/you were funny, too, but Ralph was funnier for the younger people" type.  I really hate those types of accolades, because they're tactless when the other comic is sitting right there.  The sad fact is that Wes is really a great act, and the kids just didn't have the patience to appreciate what he was doing, but that I scored great with the flagrant oral sex/masturbation stuff shows where their adolescent attention truly lies.

Tonight is another night off, and Wes apparently has decided either to stay in Duluth or he camped out somewhere else, because he's not here at the Bed 'N' Breakfast in Spicer.  I have sincere doubts of whether there's actually going to be a breakfast in the morning as there are dirty dishes on the table in the main dining room from a conference this morning, and the lady told me she hadn't had time to clean up after them.  If she can't find the time to clean some dirty dishes, I guess my toast 'n' eggs in the morning are a fucking dead issue, but maybe they'll suprise me.

My expectations of the show tomorrow night are also pretty low; the town itself doesn't have much of a population to begin with, and the room is so small that 30 or 40 people would send it into standing room only.  As I write this, though, the music is still coming up through the floor so the bar is hopping and it's only Wednesday, so maybe they really get a good crowd.  Either way, it's just a paycheck and a quick exit to Muskegon that I'm looking for.  I have Friday off, and I think I'll try to scare up some sort of guest spot somewhere, but I honestly don't know where I could perform between here and there.  Minneapolis and Chicago are both on the way, but I don't know my way around either city and I probably won't wind up going anywhere, but maybe some opportunity will drop in my lap....you never know.

With that, gentle reader, I'll sign off.  I picked up quite a few books, courtesy of a few small town libraries that I stopped at along the way, and I'm enjoying some quiet time just reading and relaxing.  Tomorrow will have problems and challenges of it's own, so today I'll just let myself off the hook and let Harlan Ellison tell me stories until I fall asleep.

Take care,

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

Applause, Applause

Applause, Applause   5659  (1719)

Saturday, September 16, 2006-4:15 CDT

Dear Mom,

I got my first standing ovation last night.  I'm playing a club called Jeremiah Bullfrog's in Topeka, Kansas with a headliner from Las Vegas named Scott Bennett.

I was as surprised as anyone when it happened.  Actually, there were quite a few things working in my favor.  I've played the room before; they do a thing called the "Comedy Invasion" on Tuesdays, and I guess it got so popular that they expanded it to the weekends as well.  Bullfrog's is a big sports bar, with a private room and stage for the comedy.  I've done well there in the past, and had a chance to get a feel for what the Kansas crowds like.

I got a good night's sleep the night before, and had a very short drive down from St. Joseph, Missouri.  When I got to the hotel, it was too early to check in, so I went across the street to Wal*Mart and got some oil for the car.  Good thing, too, because I was driving dry.  Thank God for synthetic oil, you can drain it right out of the car, and enough still stays bonded to the engine so that you don't seize up.  I put the oil in the engine, and then couldn't shut my hood!  The hood latch was sticking!  I drove around to the oil change part of the store, and a kid named Lee Ralston helped me out....didn't even charge me anything.  I gave him one of my CD's and I'm guest-listing him for the show tonight.  He really saved my hash...without that hood down, you can't really drive more than 40 miles an hour or so without the damn thing flying off (and I drive a little faster than that).

At the club, I noticed that they had reconfigured the seating to make it a bit smaller of a room.  Most of the people there were watching the college football game (the parking lot was packed...I had to circle the building twice to find a spot).  By showtime, the place had filled up nice and I met the mc.  His name was Dan and he was from Rochester, originally.  His father was a radio nomad who had relocated the family out to Topeka.  Even though I worked in radio a long time, I didn't recognize his name, but that doesn't mean anything....you can't know everybody.

From the minute I hit the stage, I could tell the audience was fertile and ready to play.  I did one of my safer openings, talking about getting pulled over by the cops, and there was a police officer in the front row.  His table of about 8 people, I'm thinking four married couples, all pointed him out immediately when I started talking about cops.  He was a good sport, and it was off to the races.  I almost abandoned most of my act in favor of just working with the crowd.  What was particularly nice was that whenever someone shouted something out, a line from my act that I had already written seemed to be the perfect retort.  I hit 35 minutes without really scratching the surface of my act, and when Dan took the mic from me and implored the audience to applaud for me again, they stood up, and I had to go back on stage and tell them that it was my first standing "O" ever.  That seemed to make them like me more.  I left so much stuff out, I could have gone at least another 20 minutes or half an hour.  It was crazy.

Scott did a great job in the closing position, but he commented before and after the set that he thought I was going to be hard to follow.  He didn't get a standing ovation, but he got good laughs, and afterwards, Marvin, the bartender/manager/guy in charge mentioned to me that he had a lot of good comments about me on the way out.  He also asked why I wasn't headlining.  I explained that I do headline, depending on the booking agent.  Some are ready to give me that opportunity, while others are more comfortable with me in the feature position.  I'm confident that if I keep doing what I'm doing, my time will come and I will get my opportunities.  Anybody who's anybody in this business didn't get there overnight, or even in ten years.

Anyway, I remember all the open mic shows you would come to to support me and my efforts, and I just wanted you to know that 18 years later, that tree has finally produced fruit.  I made a bunch of money on CD and DVD sales, and had to go out today and buy some new shoes (I tore the heel right off my right shoe doing a female masturbation bit.....don't ask, but it was hilarious) and a sweater...it's snowing up in the Dakotas where I'm going week after next, and I didn't pack a winter jacket, just a windbreaker.  I also got some Vitamin C...K Mart had a sale, buy one bottle, get one free.  I couldn't pass that up.

So I have one more show tonight, then a 13-hour drive up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  I lose an hour because of the time zones, and the show is at 7 PM.  That means when my show gets over tonight at 10:00 Central, 11:00 Eastern, I have exactly 20 hours to make it until showtime.  If 14 of those hours are in the car, I have a wiggle room of 6 hours to play with.  I think I'm going to have to leave right from the show, drive as far as I can, sleep a few hours in the car, and then make it the rest of the way.  Even if I can check in to the casino at 6 PM, that gives me enough time to shower and try to put myself together.  I only have to talk for half an hour, then I can collapse and sleep as much as I want.  Plus Monday is a day off.  Still, I don't dare even trying to get a few hours sleep before driving tonight, because I don't know what kind of weather, traffic or other unscheduled slow-downs I might encounter.  As a matter of fact, I'm going to get a nap right now.

I love you mom, and I thank you so much for believing in me.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

If You Never Got Sick

If You Never Got Sick              5643  (1703)

Friday, September 15, 2006-11:30 A.M.

I'm in the Stoney Creek Lodge in St. Joseph, Missouri.  Had to think about that for a minute, the last two days are a blur.

I got home from Cleveland on Sunday night.Monday morning with a tickle in my throat.  A day later, I was yakking and feeling as sick as I've ever been, praying to God for health.  I was drinking orange and pineapple juice, both no-no's to someone with sugar issues like myself, but desperate for vitamin C.

I turned the corner Tuesday afternoon, and just laid low and tried not to infect my family with rhotavirus (didn't work) and tried to eat stuff like apples that would keep my system moving (worked like a charm).  Wednesday, I had a doctor's appointment.

My weight is down (good), but apparently the over-the-counter cold medicines I took put my kidneys in danger of shutting down.  Great news before a two-and-a-half week roadtrip!  I didn't get the call until I arrived in Missouri.

I left Wednesday night and rocketed across America.  Hitting the road around 9:30, about 90 minutes later than I wanted, I made sure everything was knotted down at home.  Pam wasn't feeling well and little Harmony was sneezing up phlegm, so I wanted them to be in position to recuperate without having to do much.  I finished laundry, changed the bed linens to fresh and took out the garbage.  Then I feebly hauled my luggage down the stairs, packed the car, and hit the road.

I was able to drive from Rochester all the way to the Ohio/Indiana border.  I slept in my car in the parking lot of a TA truckstop, got about three hours of good sleep, and woke up and hit the road again.  I haven't been able to sleep on my back due to the mucous in my chest, which leads to 20-minute coughing jags.  Monday night, I was coughing so bad, I lost consciousness.  I soldiered on.

I arrived at the hotel in St. Joe's around 5 PM Central Time.  The show was at 8, but as tired as I was, I didn't dare take a nap, fearing I wouldn't get up.  I ironed a shirt, checked e-mail, and took a nice, hot shower that was less soothing than I thought it would be.  I got dressed and made my way to the Cobblestone Theater.

The showtime on the itinerary was wrong, so I got there half an hour early.  I wound up falling asleep in a chair in the green room.  I was woken by Tim, the house mc, who came in to get my intro.  We chatted for 15 minutes or so and then it was time to get ready for the show.

The show was o.k., the room was better attended last time, but the folks who were there came to play.  There were two lesbian girls sitting up front who I think walked out after my set, I made a comment about Jeff Gordon being gay, and told women to stop using dildoes.  I think that's what set them off...one of them commented, "yeah, that's what I want."  I saw them in the parking lot before the show, and was mildly amused that there were lesbians in Missouri.  Not that they would be from here, but that they would stay.  The midwest isn't really the most "gay-friendly" place.

The headliner, Scott (I don't remember his last name, but he's from Las Vegas and we work together in Topeka tonight and tomorrow) had a loose, improvisational type of set, because that's what the crowd was calling for.  After the show, I sold a CD, which was a welcome change from hosting in Cleveland where I sold absolutely zero for the week.

Today, I feel rested, but still scratchy in the throat.  I'm afraid to take any medicine for my cough for fear of damaging my internal organs, so I'm just going to drink fluids, take some Vitamin C, and let my body decide if I'm going to heal or die. 

I want to live, if it's any consolation.  I have two-and-a-half weeks of work in front of me, and a beautiful family to go home to.

Thanks for reading.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

Rock 'N' Roll

Rock 'N' Roll                                   5592  (1652)

Saturday, September 9, 2006-12:45 P.M.

Saturday mornings on the road are always a bittersweet feeling.  On the one hand, I'm excited that the week is almost over and I get to go back home to my wife and daughter who I love and miss very much, but on the other hand, I'm still trying to shake the stink of the Friday late show out of my head.

Actually, Friday's shows weren't that bad, the late show was actually better than the early show for me.  I'm starting to understand that the Cleveland audiences really aren't into doing math when you tell them a joke....it almost has to be the bluntest possible presentation, and they love the graphic sex stuff.  I've been closing with a bit about solving the Mexican immigration problem by sending Mexicans to Iraq to fight, and I guess a gentleman from the first show thought it was racist.  I actually say that Mexicans would probably get the whole war over with in about a week, and the joke is complimentary about their work ethic, but I guess I'm out of line saying that.  The guy mentioned something to each of the other comics just in range for me to hear, but never addressed me specifically.  Fine.  Guys like that are just looking for something to be pissed about, I've seen it a hundred times if I've seen it once.  It bothers me, but I'll have it purged from my mind in a couple of hours.  Writing about it helps, I think.

Our crowds this week have all been pretty sketchy, in attendance as well as quality.  They're picky, they groan a lot, and it's not a reflection of the talent on stage, because the other guys I'm working with are very funny, and not for nothing, but I think I'm worthy of being up there, too.  Working the mc spot at an "A" room is a little new to me, but it's not that much different than mc'ing anywhere else.  The thing I've been getting used to is doing the shorter time, and not having any warmup to coast on.  I've been doing a lot of "rah-rah" stuff about the Cleveland Browns, and they sort of like that, so it's not horrible (I follow it up with a joke....I'm not just straight pandering).

Yesterday, Nate decided we should go out and walk, which I was all for,except I didn't realize what I was in for.  This heartless motherfucker took me up a 45 degree incline that almost made my fat man's heart explode.  I was drenched in sweat by the time we arrived at the lakefront.  We went to the Browns' stadium and tried to convince the security guard that we were out-of-town visitors and it would be nice if he would let us walk around a little bit, but he gave us the elbows and knuckles quicker than you can say "I hope the Saints whip your sorry asses this Sunday."  He was very terse.  Nate chided him a little, saying "Hey, you don't have to whip the Taser gun out, we're leaving."  I thought the whole exchange could've been handled better....I think Nate's mistake was that he didn't try to talk to the guard through the little window, he walked all the way around and stepped halfway into the open door of the guard shack.  That's a no-no, apparently.

We kept walking and found our way to the world famous Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame.  Pickin's were a little better there, as we were able to talk our way in to some $8 day passes for free, with the promise that we would leave tickets at the Improv for the nice lady day manager who helped us out.  I know we're not big stars or anything, but we are entertainers from out of town....it's nice when you get the little acknowledgements, even if they don't present you with the key to the city.

Anyway, the RNRHOF is great, even if it's a little smaller than I thought it would be.  They had wonderful exhibits on the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, and hundreds of other names.  They had about a thousand guitars, former properties of absolute legends, they had vinyl that would bring a king's ransom on eBay, outfits that were worn on stage and in videos by stars aplenty.  It was staggering.  They had childhood drawings that Jimi Hendrix did when he was called John (didn't know he changed his name) and apparently, he was a big UCLA Bruins fan.  He drew pictures of other college athletes catching footballs and running for touchdowns, and I'm sure someone with a knowledge of psychology would have a field day.  The coolest part of the Hendrix exhibit were some quotes by him that were up on the wall ringing the exhibit room....one of them stuck in my head, and I had to write it down.  It said, "My own thing is in my head. I hear sounds and if I don't get them together, nobody else will."  I thought that was pretty amazing, thinking about the sounds that must have been in Jimi Hendrix's head....it probably would have turned a normal man insane.

I was really impressed by some of the outfits in the collection....they had Chuck D's outfit from Public Enemy's "Terrordome" tour, and Bruce Springsteen's outfit that he wore on the cover of "Born In The USA."  Now granted, it was just a white T-shirt and blue jeans with a red cap in the pocket....that's a pretty easy outfit to fake.....but It looked pretty authentic to me.  The jeans were all worn and ripped, and it made we wonder if when Bruce was buying those jeans if he even had a clue that they would make it to the cover of an album of his that not only would go multi-platinum, but would become one of the most iconic releases of the decade?  Think about that stuff, Casual Male employees, next time I come in and buy a fat guy shirt.

They had one exhibit that I'll probably never forget, and that was an amp stack built by the guitar player from the Quicksilver Messenger Service, a psychedelic band from San Francisco.  He had welded horns and trumpets to the amp stack, so that when the amplified noise came out of the cabinets, it would go through the horns, augmenting the sound.  It was a horrible, acid-trippy looking thing, but I'd pay money to hear what a guitar sounded like coming through it.  Stuff like that really fascinates me.  Another display that really touched me was the Who's John Entwhistle's "Buzzard" bass guitar.  He designed it for the company that manufactured it, and it looked like an actual turkey buzzard.  The headstock and body were green with gold hardware, and it had a black maple neck.  The headstock was in the shape of the head of the bird, and the body was the rest of the guitar.  I remember being an elementary bass guitar student and reading the bass player magazines of the 80's and seeing ads for the buzzard bass and thinking, "Wow, if I ever get a couple of thousand dollars together, that would be an awesome thing to have."  Well, John's dead now, and I think a buzzard bass would be somewhere in the tens of thousands of dollars, particularly a signed one like the RNRHOF has.  I'm just glad I got to see it.

Our tour of the hallended with a film in the hall's screening room.  It outlined all of the hall's inductees, year after year, on three big screens.  From the first year, 1986, all the way thorugh the present day, 2006, the presentation lasted an hour and it included some amazing concert footage, TV appearances on shows like "American Bandstand" and "Soul Train," and interview footage of some of the most amazing acts in history.  The presentation lined them up, one by one, and they just kept coming.  I sang along to almost every song, played air guitar and air drums, and slapped my knees in time to dozens of rock classics.  I really got teary-eyed when rock stars who had passed were mentioned, performers like Roy Orbison, the recently departed Billy Preston and Johnny Cash.  I got all worked up when performers that I love were mentioned, The Clash, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, U2, Neil Young.  It was really amazing seeing vintage footage of guys like Isaac Hayes, Sly and The Family Stone, Elvis Costello and Jackson Browne.  George Harrison made me cry a little.  Another time I cried was when they showed a young Michael Jackson as a member of the Jackson 5.  It was horrible for me to think about what a train wreck he's become, a tortured soul, a monster.  Even the 80's Michael, who was inducted in 2001, still looked pretty stable.  Others made my heart just pump, like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Cream, Black Sabbath, Bob Marley and the Byrds.  I think I jumped up when the Ramones came on.  It was an absolute thrill, and I recommend it.

On a cute little aside note, Nate and I entered the theater just as the previous performance was ending, and there was a middle-aged couple over in the corner, sharing a kiss when they thought no one was looking.  It was neat to see that, and I hope Pamela and I feel that way about each other when we're older.  Even though I don't think the RNRHOF is really her speed, she doesn't know anything about rock 'n' roll.  Just kidding, sweetheart, I know you read this!

So anyway, you can see more about the RNRHOF at www.rockhall.com and if you get a chance, go.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY

Coming Home

Coming Home                  5548  (1608)

Tuesday, September 5, 2006-11:55 P.M.

Good evening from Cleveland, Ohio, home of the Browns, the Indians, and the Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame.  I know I haven't checked in for over a week, you can scold me later.

When last you read me, gentle reader, I was working the Laugh In Comedy Cafe with Amaru from Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Saturday, I was supposed to see my good friend Rickey K., but a family emergency precluded that meeting.  The shows Saturday were interesting, to say the least, and during the late show, some folks got kicked out for being too noisy in the showroom.  They wound up buying CD's from me in the parking lot...it always strikes me that some of the nicest people just don't "go out" well.  Joe Galanis, the owner of the club, showed up Saturday night to pay the comics and had some nice words for me.  I hope to return to the club sometime in the spring of next year.

Sunday, we packed up and left the beautiful Holiday Inn Select and headed toward the Atlantic Coast through Alligator Alley (route 75) and hooked up with Pam's Uncle Paul and his family in Sunrise, Florida.  We went out to a Chinese buffet, and I learned how to crack open crab legs.  We had a nice visit, then headed back to Dad's house, some 4 1/2 hours away.  We had lunch plans to go to (yet another) Chinese buffet with Dad and one of his friends from the Villages the next day, so we had to get home relatively early, but still didn't make it until almost midnight.

Pam, Harmony and I bid our tear-stained farewells to my Dad on Wednesday, and headed on up to Daleville, Alabama, home of the MVP Sports Bar, and my comedy show with headliner D. T. Owens.  Our show was pretty sparsely attended, as Daleville is an Army base town, and a lot of the soldiers were shipping out for Labor Day weekend.  We still had a nice little showing, including a couple of civilian girls who turned out to be "really into each other."  One was dressed like Gwen Stefani in camouflage, the other girl was more a Goth chick with a leather bustier that had straps in the front, some sort of black spandex pants, and a Tuesday Addams haircut.  Or something like that, I really wasn't paying attention....Lesbians don't really do anything for me.

We canceled our plans to see my sister in North Carolina, the time aspect just wasn't going to shake out, same for my friend Bruce in Fredericksburg.  We drove all day Thursday and when we couldn't drive anymore, I called the Days Inn 1-800 line for reservations.  What a mistake.

The first guy I spoke with had a bad computer system, and a foreign accent.  It was clear to me that Days Inn was farming out their reservation line to offshore operators, and he implored me to call back and get another operator.  I did, and a young lady from Sri Lanka or Pakistan took my reservation for a room in Fort Wright, Kentucky, just three miles south of Cincinatti, Ohio.  We got a great room rate, and they took our credit card info over the phone, and we were on our way.

When we got there, there were four police cars in front of the place and two "guests" handcuffed and seated on the ground.  That should have been red flag number one, but we soldiered on anyways.  The front desk clerk didn't have our reservation, so I made one at the desk, and they honored the rate I was quoted over the phone.  We made our way to the elevator, which smelled like urine, and were greeted with dirty laundry in the breezeway.  Harmony didn't really notice that the place was a shithole, but Pam was staring daggers into my head.  Our room was dingy, with ceiling panels that were bowing from water damage or perhaps some other sort of detritus that had fallen.  Regardless, we weren't going to see what was on them when they fell, because we weren't staying.  The clerk happily rescinded our reservation, and off we went.

We rolled into Covington, Kentucky, about 2 o'clock in the morning, and wound up at the Holiday Inn.  They signed me up for a Priority Club membership (complete with late checkout), and we wound up paying triple what the Days Inn was charging, but for a room that was 1000% better.  Checking out of that hotel was really painful, I can tell you, and we still had eight hours of driving to do.  We stopped at a Golden Corral for lunch, and made it home around 11:30  It was great to be home, but after a month on the road, I didn't look forward to the piles of mail and laundry to be attended to, and the empty fridge that we left (don't wanna come home to rotten produce, spoiled dairy and other non-edible treats in the fridge).  It took a day of rest and recuperation to really get rolling (Harmony, was of course, full of energy and treated our 6,200 mile journey like it was nothing) and a couple of shopping trips got us up to speed.  I had one day of rest to get ready for this week, and after paying car insurance, picking up prescription medication, doing banking and hitting the post office, I was ready to leave home again.  My laundry hadn't even dried yet!

I'm working this week at the Cleveland Improv with headliner Jack Mayberry and feature Nathan Craig.  I knew Jack from the old Alt.Comedy.Standup newsgroup, we both used to be contributor to the board before it became overrun with trolls (non-participants who egg the regulars on and start pissing matches).  Nathan is a new friend who hails from the Chicago area.  When I arrived at the club around 6:30, he had just called and was speeding across western Ohio to make it to the show on time (he did).  He sat on someone's gum in the bar, and I just happened to have a jar of peanut butter with me for the trip, and we're in the process of testing the reliability of that home remedy.

O.K., I'm about to go off to sleep.  Unfortunately, my last memory of home was little Harmony crying when Pam told her I had to leave to go to work.  I think she saw the luggage and realized that it wasn't just going to be for a few hours.  It ripped me up, that's for sure.  I fed her breakfast and changed her and hugged her this morning, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm going to be gone for a whole week and not just a few days.  It really hurts.  Next week, I leave for two and a half weeks, and that's gonna hurt, too.

Pleasant dreams.

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY