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