Wherever I May Roam

Wherever I May Roam             4920

Tuesday, September 23, 2008-12:30 A.M.

After quite the layoff from strenuous road work, I returned to the long black ribbon this week with two 2-day tours of the Midwest.  Wednesday and Thursday, I worked for the Kewadin Casinos of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with the witty and rough-edged Bill Bushart, and Friday and Saturday, I appeared at a new club in Peoria, Illinois called Lenny's Comedy Cafe with the very funny John Bush.

I took off Wednesday morning and drove the 10 hours without a blink.  The only hang-up was forgetting that the Zilwaukee bridge (yes, there is such a place) is out, prompting a detour that confounded my GPS device.  Also, I hung my left arm out the car window and got a pretty pronounced sunburn.  The arm actually said "Ahem.  I am sun burnt."  Also, on the way to the club, just after the Mackinac bridge (say "MACK-en-aw and sound like you're from there), I saw two guys in a white pickup truck lose control of their vehicle on dry pavement and go four-wheeling up an embankment.  I always feel like that shit is bad luck omens, but things turned out o.k.

I met Bill Bushart for the first time after having known him for years and done every "MySpace, Facebook" buddy thing you could possibly do without ever meeting face-to-face.   He had never performed at the Kewadin Casinos before, so I was his Ishmael, letting him know what to expect, what he could get away with on stage, etc.  He barely needed my counsel as he had a great show both nights, in St. Ignace and again in Sault Ste. Marie.  Bill works "rough," which is how I describe my own comedy, so it was a good "themed" show instead of just "here's a comic" and then "here's another."

After various engagements at the Kewadin casinos, I've found them to be gracious hosts, picking up meal tabs for the duration of my stay.  I would estimate that I gambled enough in the slot machines to pay for the food I consumed, although in my younger days, they never would have gotten the best of me.  You just can't eat salad fast enough to catch up to the "Deal or No Deal" machines.  Thank God the casino was buying my food, or it would have been "Meal or No Meal."

Thursday night was great in the Sault (say it "Soo" and sound like you're from there) as I expected the normal rowdy, young, hard-drinkin' folks, and was pleased to find that a large number of older folks had made the scene.  I felt kinda bad because Bill and I were no Red Skelton and Shecky Greene, but Grams and Gramps hung out, I think only a few decided that it was too much and walked early.

Friday morning I had to pick 'em up early and get heading out to Peoria, Illinois, home of Lenny's Comedy Cafe and famously known (by me, anyway) as the historical hometown of Richard Pryor, probably one of the five funniest standup comedians ever.  It was a 700 mile trip, crossing Michigan in it's entirety, a small chunk of Indiana, Chicago in the afternoon, and a good chunk of Illinois farmland.  Even though I gained an hour by crossing into the Central Time Zone, I busted my ass to get there, checked in to the hotel and only had enough time to get a one-hour nap, just enough to freshen up.  Needless to say, when you put all that effort into getting to a gig, expect the worst.  Well, the beautiful weather translated into a Summertime attitude by the denizens of Peoria, and they all decided to go frolicking outdoors rather than come inside and play with us.  The show canceled, and I went back to the hotel to sleep a sleep that you only get inside a silk-lined casket.  Of course, the day was doomed from the start; a cop pulled me over less than a minute after leaving the casino's parking lot...I guess I was testing that "25 MPH" speed limit they use around there.  He was good enough to let me go with a warning as I pointed out to him that I had JUST left the casino andwas heading to the expressway, and that my car was covered with early morning condensation to prove that I hadn't been at the wheel long.  Actually, I was as polite and respectful as I've ever been to a law enforcement agent; when he asked me "Do you have any idea why I pulled you over?" I restrained the urge to say, "Yeah, you saw the New York plates and the Obama '08 sticker on my car and decided to be an asshole?"

Saturday was better, although premium weather still deflated our cause.  We had two shows with audiences that made up for in quality what they lacked in quantity.  Tammy and Roger were great hosts, and Butch made delicious home recipe, Southern-style barbecue sandwiches for us.  John was not familiar with the southern version of barbecue sauce, which uses a vinegar rather than a tomato base, and it was absolutely top notch.  We turned in our sets and then returned to the hotel where I immediately started packing and split to make it back to Rochester.  There's a new comedy club in Rochester called.....wait for it.....The Comedy Club (say it CALM-uh-dee club and sound like you're from there), (www.thecomedyclub.us) and I was invited to perform on their "soft opening" show.  For the uninformed, that's an invitation-only, family-and-friends show that you put on to see if your wait staff is properly trained and can function at the level that you need to do business.  I was booked and shared the stage with Matt Grippo, Joe Bruno, Jamie Lissow and Joel Lindley, as well as Rochester's own Brother Wease, who did some introductions up front and is involved with the running of the club.  The show was hosted by Michael Gately, the morning show host on Rochester's 100.5 The Drive, and a fellow I'd had the pleasure of sharing the stage with in the past.  I hadn't seen Wease in a while, and I went to shake his hand and knocked his cell phone out of his hand and on to the floor.

So I left Peoria around 1 A.M., which was really 2 A.M., because I was heading back east.  I drove until 6 A.M., which got me into Indiana and past Chicago, and I got a two-hour nap at a rest stop somewhere between South Bend and the Ohio border.  At 8 A.M., I loaded up on Red Bull and hit the road again.  I got into radio range of Buffalo to hear a good part of the Buffalo Bills' game against the Oakland Raiders, and just as Rian Lindell was kicking the game-winning field goal, I was pulling into my driveway.  I loaded out my luggage, got about an hour of sleep, and headed to the club (notice a pattern here at all?).

Well, I was happy with my set, which was a prairie fire with no rhyme or reason, just stringing together ten minute's worth of some of my best loved material, but the folks ate it up, so I was happy.  And I'm sure a lot of folks will be interested to hear my review of the new club that Rochester will be frequenting for their ha-ha's.

Basically, I think the place is great.  From a decorative standpoint, the club is very nice, and even though it's in a country bar (called Daisy Dukes) it doesn't look red-necky at all.  If anything, there's enough woodwork to make the place look really upscale.  Also, the club features the return of the famous brick wall for a stage, which hearkens back to the days when standup was performed in coffee houses and rathskellers, which almost always had brick walls (hence the tradition).  Betcha didn't know that, huh?

There's an actual green room, which is small but functional, with access to the back service bar.  There's only room for about four people to hang out, and two would have to stand, but the whole purpose of the green room is to have some privacy and get away from the crowd, so I would have to give it an "A" in that regard.

The sound system needed a little fine-tuning, as opener Matt Grippo played an electric ukelele (no shit) and at times, was a little difficult to hear.  The lighting and stage were good, and the seating, while sterile and "prison mess-hall" style, was uncrowded and comfortable.  And I guess the folks seated in the outside rows are just going to have to turn their seats and deal with the fact that the place to rest their drink is behind them.

One extremely classy touch that I thought was nice was the specialty drink menu which paid homage to comedians who had passed on and listed their birth-to-death dates under their names.  John Belushi, George Carlin, Gilda Radner, Rodney Dangerfield, Sam Kinison and others were represented with signature cocktails, and to honor them  that way shows a real deference to the art of comedy, and as a comedian, I was impressed.  A lot of clubs have menus with cute comedy names for their food and beverage, but this was the first time I saw a list of exclusively departed talents and their date of passage included.  Bravo, I say.

The club has enlisted quite a few veterans of the old club to come in and turn the wheels, and I think that's a good thing.  The problems at the old club seemed to all be a product of the organization and cash-flow issues, and that doesn't seem to be a problem at this new venue.  I performed for a nominal amount, and was presented with standard independent contractor paperwork, which is correct and how it should be....by the book.  This will be no "fast and loose with the cash" enterprise, because the principals know that those are the holes that sunk the last boat.  Some of the new faces (read; attractive wait staff) seemed a little vacuous; pretty, but in for a rude awakening the first time the place is sold out and the vikings want their mead.  Whether you have serving experience or not, the comedy club is a totally different animal; there's no time to be standing around waiting to be told what to do, you have to bang those heels out to the showroom floor and rescue your customers from suckin' ice.  A show only lasts 90 minutes, sell those drinks!

The club isn't overly large, seating at around 200, which will prevent that "empty room" look when holidays and warm weather keep the folks away.  It's outside of the city, in the town of Webster, but it's on the main drag and shouldn't have any problems being found by even the most far-flung westsiders who can easily jump on 490 and make the show if they give themselves half an hour (at the most).

So best of luck to Mark Ippolito and Joe Tantillo and their staff, I know they'll do a great job of representing comedy in Rochester, and a hearty thank you from me for including me in the opening day festivities.  I feel like the President being asked to throw out the first pitch on opening day, except instead of one-hopping it to the plate, I felt like I got to strike out the first three batters.  Even draggin' ass from no sleep and a cross-country death drive, there's nothing like taking the stage in front of a hot audience.

Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY