Thursday, December 18, 2008-11:30 A.M.
What if you were about to die but didn't know it? Just didn't have a clue?
That's where I was last week, on Tuesday night. I was hanging out at Danny Liberto's open mic at the Otter Lodge and hanging around with friends, doing some comedy, having a whiskey and living my life. And I had a swollen foot.
It was no big deal. It didn't hurt. I'd had some leg problems going back to Halloween, but I was getting around. I thought it was fallen arches. I had fallen arches before, and you recover. You do the stretching exercises, put some arch supports in your shoes, and away you go.
I'm diabetic, so foot care is always right in the forefront. My wife said "You need to get that looked at." I needed to make an appointment to see my doctor anyway, as I had prescriptions that he didn't want to renew until he saw me again. I got one that very morning.
When I arrived, he looked at the foot, and after I described my month-long leg pain, he decided that I was in danger of having a blood clot. I was sent hustling over to the ultrasound department at Rochester General Hospital, where I was born 42 years ago, and the ultrasound showed that indeed, I had a blood clot in my left leg that was restricting blood flow and causing my left foot to swell.
Blood clots are tricky things, I've learned. They float up and down the leg, sometimes they get stuck, and sometimes they go right to the lungs and give you what's called a pulmonary embolism. That's a bad thing. The lungs actually protect clots from going to the brain, but sometimes they do, and that's called a stroke.
I was admitted immediately.
My wife joined me, and before I knew it, I was in a wheelchair and going through hospital admissions. The woman who checked me in, Luda, was an older lady and very nice. After talking for a while, she recognized me. She had come to a show at the Comix Cafe (my old home club) on a Sunday night, they sat in the front, and I picked on her husband. After looking at the photographs on her office wall, the whole night came back to me; it was a Sunday, they sat to the left of the stage, so my right looking out to the audience, and her husband had his chair turned away, which is why I gave him grief to begin with. I thought, "what are the odds?" Well, I was in my hometown, where I've worked steadily for ten years or more, so I guess the odds were pretty good.
I was wheeled into a room on the fourth floor, into the area they call 4200. I was in a shared room with another patient, a gentleman named Rick who was recovering from back surgery. Rick had a lot of visitors, and long story short, his daughter Lisa recognized my voice from behind the curtain that separated us as we had worked together in the research department of WCMF radio about 15 years ago. We laughed and caught up, and that was two episodes of being recognized in the short span of just an hour or two.
I was due to start treatment Wednesday night with an intravenous drip of a drug called Heparin, which is a blood thinner. The young lady, whose name escapes me, had to put the IV into my left arm, and apparently I have rhino skin or something, because she had a hell of a time getting the needle through my dermis, and then the vein kept "jumping" or "rolling" and she couldn't get the IV in.
I've never been good with medical procedures and I hate needles (I'd be the lousiest junkie ever...."Does heroin come in a pill?") and while the nurse dug and dug into my arm, I started going into traumatic shock. I know, because I've gone into shock before...the symptoms are basic. First, there's the feeling of nausea. Next, there's the cold sweat. Finally, shortness of breath takes over. The nurse removed the needle and they elevated my legs and instructed me to breathe. That's how worked-over I was, they had to remind me to breathe. If you have to be reminded to breath, some hellacious shit is happening to you.
Once I was back to normal, she tried again, and this attempt was far more successful. I ate dinner and sent my wife home with a list of some personal items I would need for my hospital stay; a book I'm reading ("Anansi Boys" by Neil Gaiman), a sudoku book, underwear (to help maintain some sense of modesty under the hospital's gowns, who are designed for no one's comfort or pleasure) and personal items. I chatted with Rick through the curtain, as he was on some sort of steroids and was having trouble falling asleep. I had my own problems; I'd never been hospitalized before, much less for a "deep vein thrombosis," and a description of it as "going in through the groin area" did nothing for my customer confidence. They brought me water in a Styrofoam cup, and after I drank the water, I nervously inscribed the cup with a ballpoint pen, writing down my wife and daughter's names, a quote from Winston Churchill's "we shall fight them in the fields, we shall defend our island" speech, song lyrics, and joke that I wrote for Mitch Hedberg that he died before he could consider using. I was scheduled for my procedure at 8:00 A.M., and drifted off to sleep around midnight.
The next morning, a barrage of nurses, doctors, food service workers and the like started invading the room, quashing any thoughts I had of sleeping in. They woke me at 7 A.M., an hour before my procedure. Well, like in show business, very little in the hospital starts on time. I went to the procedure about quarter to twelve, only shy of four hours later from the scheduled time. I didn't mind, because any delay of a needle in my groin was fine with me.
I was rolled down to the room where such procedures are done, and they flopped me onto an operating table, face down. I joked around with the team that was working on me, and to my surprise, they did not have to go into my groin, but rather, through the back of my knee and down near my ankle. I'm not going to pretend to be any sort of medical professional, but basically, the procedure was to blast the clot with anticoagulant and then soak the pieces with anticoagulant, hoping to dissolve them. Long story short, the procedure went so well, instead of sending me to intensive care for monitoring (the original plan), I was sent back to the recovery room in 4200. The only problem was that they had given away my bed. I wound up in a private room, where I spent the next four and half days.
Pamela came to visit me, bringing me all the things I would need for my stay, including my laptop. The hospital had wireless Internet (thank God) and daily newspaper delivery to the rooms on request. Honestly, it was like being in a hotel they way they took care of me. I met a great number of people, all who were exceptional in their care of me, including Kristina, Brandi, Robert, Julie, Jessica S., Mallory, Sarah and Alex. Everyone was amazing, and no one ever left my room without asking me if there was anything I needed or that they could get for me.
I sleep with a CPAP machine because I have sleep apnea, and someone from Respiratory Services showed up every day to make sure that things were working properly. Someone from Nutrition came and went over the daily menu with me, and explained to me that if there was something on the menu I didn't like, that I could call and get something switched around, and if I was still hungry, there was room service available until 8:00 P.M. I decided that their menu (customized to my diabetic profile) was nutritionally balanced enough that I didn't want to mess with it, and never took them up on their room service offer. Pam brought me some Combos pretzel snacks at my request, because the one rap on hospital food that I have is everything is very soft and there's no variation in texture. I guess if my client base had an average age somewhere between 65 and deceased, I'd slop out the creamed corn, too.
I was released on Tuesday afternoon after the Coumadin I was receiving hit the proper level, and I was excited to be going home. All day on Tuesday and Wednesday, I was weak as a kitten, my muscles protesting due to their inactivity for almost a week. I think I'll be back to full fighting strength this weekend, when I have two gigs close to home, but I had to cancel my Western Canada trip for January that I was very much looking forward to, because I have to go to a blood lab twice a week as they monitor my anticoagulants and make sure that the concentration is therapeutic enough to make a difference, but not so effective that I bleed to death when I nick myself shaving.
I have a feeling it's going to be a long, cold winter as I adjust to this new wrinkle in my health profile, but I'm glad to be alive and I've started catching up on lost time, putting up Christmas cards here at the apartment, fishing the small artificial tree down from the attic, and getting ready to enjoy the holiday season.
Thanks to everyone who checked in on me while I was languishing in the hospital, to everyone on my health care staff (don't forget to come and see me at the Comedy Club in Webster [www.thecomedyclub.us] on December 26th and 27th), and I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season!
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
White Christmas (Crash Test Dummies)
Monday, December 8, 2008-4:00 P.M.
Wow, it feels like life is a little back to normal.
I'm home from visiting my mother in Florida, and the three days were just full of phone calls, doctor's appointments, trips to the hardware store, and a lot of love, helping my mother mend after her horrific car accident.
Frankly, the details of the accident were grim. The accident occurred at night, and she was struck by two separate vehicles, both on her driver's side door, the first spinning her around so the second could strike her again. I don't know the details, but as I understand it, both vehicles were going at least 55 mph (mom's Jeep Cherokee going much slower as it entered the highway), the impact gave her a concussion, knocked her wig off of her head, knocked her glasses off of her face, and she lost a lot of blood before being taken by helicopter to Orlando Regional Medical Center.
Today, she wears an arm sling to help relieve the pressure on her crushed clavicle (near the collarbone) and she features no other signs of being in an accident at all except for some stitches on the left side of her head, a few inches above the temple.
According to my sister, who had time to investigate the wrecked remains of the Jeep, the floor compartment on the driver's side of the vehicle was crushed to within eight inches in width, and yet Mom has no leg injuries.
My sister went immediately to Florida from her home in North Carolina to be with mom, and when she left, I arrived and stayed for a few days. My brother Christopher relieved me, and stayed until today, when my sister arrives and he'll go back to Syracuse. I'm on the next stay, whenever that may be.
We lost our father almost two years ago. I guess that fresh scar moved us all a little quicker to rush to Mom's side. I was just there a month ago, cooling my heels on a few days off from my college tour, and taking advantage of the rent-free guest room. We always have a good visit, and this was my third time visiting Mom this year. Having the gypsy job that I do offers me more flexibility to make such excursions, and now that I'm in my 40's, I treasure the time with family so much more than I used to when I was a young buck trying to make a name for myself, and now I'm just trying to make a buck, having discovered that my name has limited value.
Mom's name is Linda. But to a generation of comedians working in Rochester, she was always "Mom." When I started doing open mics at Yuk Yuk's in the Olde Rochesterville section of town, mom used to tag along, and to my horror, sit in the front row at open mic night. Then she would talk to every comic that addressed her from the stage, completely obliterating any credibility I would have as a performer. When you're a comic, you're supposed to be this hip, swinging smart-ass, not the guy who's mom is sitting in the front row! But the truth be told, I wasn't hip, I didn't swing, and I was more smart than smart-ass, which doesn't always translate to laughs. I protested, but Mom kept coming out to shows, until she was a staple, a household name among the comics. I just had to get used to it.
My mom loved comedy. For mother's day, I used to give my poor, tired father a break and take Mom to the Yuk Yuk's in Niagara Falls, a 90 minute drive, and we'd see the comedians there on a Sunday night. She loved those shows, and I enjoyed using my connections as a Yuk Yuk's comic to talk my way into the comps.
A bunch of us "new jacks" formed an improv troupe, The Inner Loop. We started doing improv comedy on our own night at Yuk Yuk's, by that time the club had gone independent and was named "Hiccup's." Mom didn't attend many of our shows, but sometimes accompanied us on out-of-town gigs (there weren't many of them) as her schedule allowed. We had posters made up to promote our shows, and after one show, we all autographed one of them and gave it to Mom, and she still has the thing, along with one of our group headshots....we changed personnel so many times, I can't tell you what version of the group it was, but the headshot is framed and sitting on her dresser.
The group has long since been scattered to the four winds (our one long-standing gig, the First Night celebration in Binghamton, NY passed us over this year, probably because they'd had us four years in a row and needed some variety) but they live forever at my mom's house, on the dresser and on the wall.
Well, as the situation would turn out, Mom has let some of her finances get away from her in the past couple of years, and my sister and brother and I have used much of the time with her to "untangle the Christmas lights." I wonder sometimes, if this non-fatal (yet scary, violent and jarring) car accident wasn't God intervening and saying to the three of us "your mother needs help, get down to Florida!" I believe in God and believe that when terrible things happen to people, they happen for a distinct reason. It's like the story of Lazarus in the Bible; Lazarus was sick and everyone called Jesus to go and help his friend, but Jesus dilly-dallied for a few days and when he got there, Lazarus was dead. Jesus then performed on of the miracles, raising Lazarus from the dead, as if to say "your request of me is so small; you ask me to heal the sick, when I am willing and able to raise the dead for you." Jesus let a terrible thing happen to reaffirm his love (and power) to the people that trusted him. I guess God could have just reached my brother and sister and I in a different way, but this car accident was his way of ringing the bell. It certainly got our attention, and we've all gone to visit and started the heavy lifting of getting mom back on track. (The story of Lazarus is in John 11:1-45 if you're interested in reading the story).
So, I made it back to Rochester in time to fulfill my weekend obligations, a Friday morning appointment and a Friday night show in Pennellville, NY with Steve Natarelli and Annette Lorenzo that was just smashing. We were working at Monirae's in Pennellville, which is just outside of Syracuse, NY. It was a bitter cold night, but we had a good crowd and they turned out to be a lively bunch. I was headlining and early in my set, addressed a heckler that wound up being the owner. I went deep into him, prompting one of the servers to ask me to stop talking about her parents having sex...the two servers were the owners' daughters, and that lead to a whole other line of comedy. I had a great time, sold a good number of souvenir CD's after the show, and look forward to my next booking with Danny Liberto and The Comedy Company (http://www.noclowns.com/), a New Year's Eve show in Corning, New York.
Saturday, I was the entertainment for a holiday office party for Hospitality Restaurant Group, the owners and operators of the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut/Kentucky Fried Chicken Restaurants in Upstate New York. I had a great time, even with a small sound system problem (the people in the back couldn't hear me) that was corrected by Johnny-on-the-spot DJ Steven Turner. I had requested a long, corded microphone because I do some bits with the microphone cord, but the room was set up the long way, so the cordless mic that Steven provided was more appropriate. I set them up with some "canned" material, and then went into the stuff they really liked....going through the audience and improvising material with them. Without going into too much detail, it was a great experience, the big boss seemed delighted. Anyhow, Steven was the guy who recommended me to the group in the first place, having seen me do my thing at another event, and turnabout is fair play, so if you're interested in a top-notch DJ, a real craftsman who doesn't just come in and spin tunes but someone who really controls the mood and tempo of an event, Steven Turner at Turner Music Productions is your guy. The website is http://www.tmpdj.com/ or call him at 585-663-3948. His website features audio samples of his work as well as an avalanche of testimonial letters from happy clients.
I took Sunday off to decompress and slept like I never slept before. My mother-in-law was watching my daughter and my wife was off at a craft show, so I was able to sleep into the afternoon. After being non-stop go for ten days, I needed the break. I resisted the temptation to watch the Buffalo Bills play their game in Toronto (that I *knew* they were going to lose) and instead, picked my daughter up and took her shopping and out to lunch and spent some good "daddy" time with her. I figure after being away from home so much, she deserved my undivided attention, and we had a good time. We even went to Taco Bell and had a nice lunch....Harmony's a sucker for the beans!
This week, it's a long week off to try and get the house back in order, and Saturday I'm working a Christmas party up in the North Country of New York...in the town of Massena, where I've played a few times before in my 20-year career. I don't know the name of the group or the showtime or any of the details because I'm waiting on the itinerary from the booker, but it's a full week away and I'm not gonna sweat it until Thursday....that leaves only one more business day to reasonably get in touch with the booker, who is also a comic, and they will probably be on the road and hard to reach after Thursday.
So in the meantime, it's drag out the tree, put up the garland, light the candles, do the dishes, all that good holiday stuff, and start getting into the spirit of the season!
Here's hoping that you don't have to be prodded by a catastrophe to visit your loved ones, or reach out and contact them. Cherish them while you have them, especially this time of year.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Wow, it feels like life is a little back to normal.
I'm home from visiting my mother in Florida, and the three days were just full of phone calls, doctor's appointments, trips to the hardware store, and a lot of love, helping my mother mend after her horrific car accident.
Frankly, the details of the accident were grim. The accident occurred at night, and she was struck by two separate vehicles, both on her driver's side door, the first spinning her around so the second could strike her again. I don't know the details, but as I understand it, both vehicles were going at least 55 mph (mom's Jeep Cherokee going much slower as it entered the highway), the impact gave her a concussion, knocked her wig off of her head, knocked her glasses off of her face, and she lost a lot of blood before being taken by helicopter to Orlando Regional Medical Center.
Today, she wears an arm sling to help relieve the pressure on her crushed clavicle (near the collarbone) and she features no other signs of being in an accident at all except for some stitches on the left side of her head, a few inches above the temple.
According to my sister, who had time to investigate the wrecked remains of the Jeep, the floor compartment on the driver's side of the vehicle was crushed to within eight inches in width, and yet Mom has no leg injuries.
My sister went immediately to Florida from her home in North Carolina to be with mom, and when she left, I arrived and stayed for a few days. My brother Christopher relieved me, and stayed until today, when my sister arrives and he'll go back to Syracuse. I'm on the next stay, whenever that may be.
We lost our father almost two years ago. I guess that fresh scar moved us all a little quicker to rush to Mom's side. I was just there a month ago, cooling my heels on a few days off from my college tour, and taking advantage of the rent-free guest room. We always have a good visit, and this was my third time visiting Mom this year. Having the gypsy job that I do offers me more flexibility to make such excursions, and now that I'm in my 40's, I treasure the time with family so much more than I used to when I was a young buck trying to make a name for myself, and now I'm just trying to make a buck, having discovered that my name has limited value.
Mom's name is Linda. But to a generation of comedians working in Rochester, she was always "Mom." When I started doing open mics at Yuk Yuk's in the Olde Rochesterville section of town, mom used to tag along, and to my horror, sit in the front row at open mic night. Then she would talk to every comic that addressed her from the stage, completely obliterating any credibility I would have as a performer. When you're a comic, you're supposed to be this hip, swinging smart-ass, not the guy who's mom is sitting in the front row! But the truth be told, I wasn't hip, I didn't swing, and I was more smart than smart-ass, which doesn't always translate to laughs. I protested, but Mom kept coming out to shows, until she was a staple, a household name among the comics. I just had to get used to it.
My mom loved comedy. For mother's day, I used to give my poor, tired father a break and take Mom to the Yuk Yuk's in Niagara Falls, a 90 minute drive, and we'd see the comedians there on a Sunday night. She loved those shows, and I enjoyed using my connections as a Yuk Yuk's comic to talk my way into the comps.
A bunch of us "new jacks" formed an improv troupe, The Inner Loop. We started doing improv comedy on our own night at Yuk Yuk's, by that time the club had gone independent and was named "Hiccup's." Mom didn't attend many of our shows, but sometimes accompanied us on out-of-town gigs (there weren't many of them) as her schedule allowed. We had posters made up to promote our shows, and after one show, we all autographed one of them and gave it to Mom, and she still has the thing, along with one of our group headshots....we changed personnel so many times, I can't tell you what version of the group it was, but the headshot is framed and sitting on her dresser.
The group has long since been scattered to the four winds (our one long-standing gig, the First Night celebration in Binghamton, NY passed us over this year, probably because they'd had us four years in a row and needed some variety) but they live forever at my mom's house, on the dresser and on the wall.
Well, as the situation would turn out, Mom has let some of her finances get away from her in the past couple of years, and my sister and brother and I have used much of the time with her to "untangle the Christmas lights." I wonder sometimes, if this non-fatal (yet scary, violent and jarring) car accident wasn't God intervening and saying to the three of us "your mother needs help, get down to Florida!" I believe in God and believe that when terrible things happen to people, they happen for a distinct reason. It's like the story of Lazarus in the Bible; Lazarus was sick and everyone called Jesus to go and help his friend, but Jesus dilly-dallied for a few days and when he got there, Lazarus was dead. Jesus then performed on of the miracles, raising Lazarus from the dead, as if to say "your request of me is so small; you ask me to heal the sick, when I am willing and able to raise the dead for you." Jesus let a terrible thing happen to reaffirm his love (and power) to the people that trusted him. I guess God could have just reached my brother and sister and I in a different way, but this car accident was his way of ringing the bell. It certainly got our attention, and we've all gone to visit and started the heavy lifting of getting mom back on track. (The story of Lazarus is in John 11:1-45 if you're interested in reading the story).
So, I made it back to Rochester in time to fulfill my weekend obligations, a Friday morning appointment and a Friday night show in Pennellville, NY with Steve Natarelli and Annette Lorenzo that was just smashing. We were working at Monirae's in Pennellville, which is just outside of Syracuse, NY. It was a bitter cold night, but we had a good crowd and they turned out to be a lively bunch. I was headlining and early in my set, addressed a heckler that wound up being the owner. I went deep into him, prompting one of the servers to ask me to stop talking about her parents having sex...the two servers were the owners' daughters, and that lead to a whole other line of comedy. I had a great time, sold a good number of souvenir CD's after the show, and look forward to my next booking with Danny Liberto and The Comedy Company (http://www.noclowns.com/), a New Year's Eve show in Corning, New York.
Saturday, I was the entertainment for a holiday office party for Hospitality Restaurant Group, the owners and operators of the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut/Kentucky Fried Chicken Restaurants in Upstate New York. I had a great time, even with a small sound system problem (the people in the back couldn't hear me) that was corrected by Johnny-on-the-spot DJ Steven Turner. I had requested a long, corded microphone because I do some bits with the microphone cord, but the room was set up the long way, so the cordless mic that Steven provided was more appropriate. I set them up with some "canned" material, and then went into the stuff they really liked....going through the audience and improvising material with them. Without going into too much detail, it was a great experience, the big boss seemed delighted. Anyhow, Steven was the guy who recommended me to the group in the first place, having seen me do my thing at another event, and turnabout is fair play, so if you're interested in a top-notch DJ, a real craftsman who doesn't just come in and spin tunes but someone who really controls the mood and tempo of an event, Steven Turner at Turner Music Productions is your guy. The website is http://www.tmpdj.com/ or call him at 585-663-3948. His website features audio samples of his work as well as an avalanche of testimonial letters from happy clients.
I took Sunday off to decompress and slept like I never slept before. My mother-in-law was watching my daughter and my wife was off at a craft show, so I was able to sleep into the afternoon. After being non-stop go for ten days, I needed the break. I resisted the temptation to watch the Buffalo Bills play their game in Toronto (that I *knew* they were going to lose) and instead, picked my daughter up and took her shopping and out to lunch and spent some good "daddy" time with her. I figure after being away from home so much, she deserved my undivided attention, and we had a good time. We even went to Taco Bell and had a nice lunch....Harmony's a sucker for the beans!
This week, it's a long week off to try and get the house back in order, and Saturday I'm working a Christmas party up in the North Country of New York...in the town of Massena, where I've played a few times before in my 20-year career. I don't know the name of the group or the showtime or any of the details because I'm waiting on the itinerary from the booker, but it's a full week away and I'm not gonna sweat it until Thursday....that leaves only one more business day to reasonably get in touch with the booker, who is also a comic, and they will probably be on the road and hard to reach after Thursday.
So in the meantime, it's drag out the tree, put up the garland, light the candles, do the dishes, all that good holiday stuff, and start getting into the spirit of the season!
Here's hoping that you don't have to be prodded by a catastrophe to visit your loved ones, or reach out and contact them. Cherish them while you have them, especially this time of year.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Monday, December 1, 2008
A Quick One While He's Away (The Who)
Monday, December 1, 2008-2:00 P.M.
Just a weekend wrap-up while the girls are gone.
I got home o.k. last night, even though it rain/snowed all the way home from Toronto. Border was an afterthought, the guard looked at my passport, asked me two questions and back home in New York I went. The exchange rate was terrible on Canadian money....on Wednesday, I cashed $50 U.S. and got $52.25 CDN for it. Last night, Sunday, I cashed $553 CDN and got a $440 U.S. and some change. I haven't done the math yet, but I think either the rate changed or duty-free had their way with me.
Great shows this week, even the last one. Absolute Comedy is extremely supportive of their loyal locals (don't perform at a stage too close to them, though, or it's off to the Gulag...). I met and/or shared the stage with some very funny people this week; Eric Clifford, Dan Bruzzi, Doug Brown, Curtis Blakely, Elaine (ED) Dandy, Brendan McKeigan, Ryan Maglonob, Perry Perlmutar, Dred Lee, and Steven Sharpe. We had decent attendance, although some shows they pulled the curtain to cordon off the back section, which made the room nice 'n' cozy. My favorite moment of the week-talking to two older ladies who were waiting for their salad, and then leaving the stage to go back to the kitchen to try and help. Just another example of thinking on the balls of my feet, which I love (although sometimes more than the audience does).
So now I have one day to prepare before I fly down to Florida. I've gone through my prescription of antibiotics so hopefully this upper respiratory infection that's been kicking my ass all month is a thing of the past. Then after a few days with Mom, it's fly back home and get to work again, one public show and one private show. This non-stop-go stuff is starting to catch up with me and I guess burnout is better than rust-out (the opposite of burnout....didn't know that, didja?) but I'd rather have a steady diet of just enough stress.
So cheers to all, and I'll write again soon.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Just a weekend wrap-up while the girls are gone.
I got home o.k. last night, even though it rain/snowed all the way home from Toronto. Border was an afterthought, the guard looked at my passport, asked me two questions and back home in New York I went. The exchange rate was terrible on Canadian money....on Wednesday, I cashed $50 U.S. and got $52.25 CDN for it. Last night, Sunday, I cashed $553 CDN and got a $440 U.S. and some change. I haven't done the math yet, but I think either the rate changed or duty-free had their way with me.
Great shows this week, even the last one. Absolute Comedy is extremely supportive of their loyal locals (don't perform at a stage too close to them, though, or it's off to the Gulag...). I met and/or shared the stage with some very funny people this week; Eric Clifford, Dan Bruzzi, Doug Brown, Curtis Blakely, Elaine (ED) Dandy, Brendan McKeigan, Ryan Maglonob, Perry Perlmutar, Dred Lee, and Steven Sharpe. We had decent attendance, although some shows they pulled the curtain to cordon off the back section, which made the room nice 'n' cozy. My favorite moment of the week-talking to two older ladies who were waiting for their salad, and then leaving the stage to go back to the kitchen to try and help. Just another example of thinking on the balls of my feet, which I love (although sometimes more than the audience does).
So now I have one day to prepare before I fly down to Florida. I've gone through my prescription of antibiotics so hopefully this upper respiratory infection that's been kicking my ass all month is a thing of the past. Then after a few days with Mom, it's fly back home and get to work again, one public show and one private show. This non-stop-go stuff is starting to catch up with me and I guess burnout is better than rust-out (the opposite of burnout....didn't know that, didja?) but I'd rather have a steady diet of just enough stress.
So cheers to all, and I'll write again soon.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
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