Thursday, May 29, 2009
11:45 P.M.
Just going down memory lane on a rainy, muggy night in Rochester. Ray Salah accompanied me to my last "Dash For Dollars" show of the season down in New Jersey on Wednesday, and for two days, we laughed and talked about the past.
Ray and I have been friends since I met him at Yuk Yuk's Comedy Club in Rochester back in May of 1988. We've been friends for 21 years, played countless shows together, and this summer, we're going to be doing something new, an improv show targeted towards families with children looking for entertainment options for their kids.
After two days in the car talking about all the stuff we've been through, I found a folder full of pictures, including a picture of our friend, Tiny Glover, who passed away last year. I also found folders full of jokes I'd written, hoping at one point to start my own "morning radio joke service" to funnel material at that market. I also found a folder full of poems that I wrote during a time when I was black-balled from the only comedy club in town, Hiccup's, and the only stage time that Ray and I could get was the Pure Kona open mic poetry night at Java Joe's. The black-balling basically occurred because there were two clubs in town, and Hiccup's didn't want me working at the other club, but the other club treated me better so I went with them, and then they went out of business, turning me into a man without a country.
Looking through the joke folder first....wondering what dusty gems lay in waiting....
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David Letterman returned to the Late Show on February 21st after undergoing quintuple bypass surgery. All that work, and they didn't do anything about his teeth.
The TV show ratings leader this week was ABC's "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" UPN is introducing a knock-off of the popular show called "Who Wants To Get Their Heat Turned Back On?"
Magician Doug Henning passed away on February 7th. Six pallbearers carried his casket to the grave site, and then sawed it in half.
Every year on George Washington's birthday, they have a mattress sale. Shouldn't they have it on Bill Clinton's birthday?
Monica Lewinsky's book tour is causing anger all over America. Democrats are mad because she disgraced the President. Her parents are mad because she embarrassed the family. Even her dentist is mad at her because he can't get her to spit.
A women's basketball league is being introduced for fans who can't get enough of the NBA. The WNBA promises the players are just as good as in the NBA, but they wear one more pad.
Wal*Mart is expanding it's presence in Europe, where it is taking over 21 supermarkets in Germany. No word yet on whether or not they're planning a Berlin Wal*Mart.
A ring of Canadian counterfeiters was caught trying to pass phony U.S. bills here in the states. They were caught when it was noticed that the $1 bill featured George Jefferson.
Thousands of Chinese-made condoms were returned to China as defective because an hour after you use them, you're still horny.
Business leaders in Hawaii are trying to stimulate business in the 50th state with a program called "Thumbs Up, Hawaii." New York state has a similar program, except it's not a thumb.
The National Support Group for Bulimia is having their annual fund-raising spaghetti dinner this Saturday. Dinner will be served at 7:00, 7:30, 8:00, 8:30, 9:00, 9:15, 9:20.....
The World Series contest this year will feature the Cleveland Indians and the Atlanta Braves. Tickets are only available through scalpers.
The mayor of Charleston, West Virginia was reprimanded for using city workers to repave his home driveway. He was caught when the crew painted a double yellow stripe down the middle of it.
Hugh Grant is selling the car he picked up prostitute Divine Brown in. He's going to take the money and buy an Escort.
It's a true fact: the first fortune cookie ever was manufactured in the United States. And the first fortune was "Inspected by #5."
A study by the American Medical Association shows that men who masturbate regularly are less likely to develop prostate cancer. But they suffer from a malady called "penis elbow."
The town of Preston, Mississippi has discontinued their recycling program because they're tired of reading the same newspapers over and over again.
A study at Johns Hopkins University shows that the poorest-selling flavored condom is peanut butter. Consumers didn't like it because it sticks to the roof of their mouth.
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Wow. Say what you want, at least I never stopped working.
The poetry was, in a lot of circumstances, standup comedy disguised as poetry. Here's a taste.
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Tradition 5/20/94
"Eat it,"
my buddy said-
the worm at the bottom of the bottle;
"it'll be cool."
So I ate it.
It was bitter
and nasty
and I felt sick instead of cool.
I don't hang around with Larry anymore
and tomorrow I'm writing a letter of complaint
to the Heinz Tomato Ketchup company.
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Well, that's enough for tonight. Maybe I'll share some more next time. I'm off until Thursday when I'll be at the Cleveland Improv, which I'm looking forward to.
Take care, and thanks for reading.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Delicious (Rod Stewart)
Sunday, May 17, 20092:30 A.M. EDT
The house is quiet.
Good evening, dear reader, or God Save Us, good morning, if you should rise so early. It's 2:30 in the morning and mommy and baby have both gone to bed, leaving daddy to his own devices, tip-tapping at the computer keyboard, searching the internet for all manner of information, gossip and drivel. It then occurred to me that I hadn't checked in with you in quite some time, and lo, it's almost been a month! Where has the time gone off to....
When last I reported, I was in a hotel room in Storm Lake, Iowa, preparing to perform for an all-night after-prom party for a small high school in Newell, Iowa. I was a little worried about the show, not that I wouldn't be funny, but that I could find the right balance of dirt. Youthful audiences crave blue material, and the adults who look after them fear it. One complaint, carefully worded, and an individual is out looking for a new job. Nobody needs that. I'm glad to say that the feedback that evening was excellent, and a follow-up by my college agent confirmed the same. I had a great time with the kids, and think I might pursue the position of professional commencement speaker. I think I'd be great in that role. If only I could inspire as many protesters as President Obama, then I'd really be on to something. Let's face it; if everyone agrees with you 100% of the time, you're either a pandering abjurer or a simpleton with nothing to contribute to the dialogue.
The drive the next day was a rainy one, and I was glad I was able to get my brakes done. The only thing worse than driving on wet pavement is driving on same without adequate brakes. The sun started shining through just a little before the Illinois border, and the rest of the trip was without incident. I arrived at the McCamley Park hotel in Battle Creek, Michigan, got myself cleaned up, ironed some clothing and headed over to Gary Field's Comedy Theater to participate in the annual Relay For Life benefit show for cancer relief. We had a great turnout, with every seat sold and dynamite performances from Gary Fields, John Face, Kathie Dice, Chris Young and Mike Evitts. I have done this event three times, and they keep asking me back, and I try to mix up my material because I don't want to get repetitious...one line got a woman to walk. Actually, she didn't care for the joke and was verbal in her criticism, and I whacked her the way I would any heckler. Hey, if you don't like the joke, sit down and shut up, everyone else laughed! Sometimes, majority rules whether you like it or not.
On Monday, I dragged my feet getting up to my college agency's office in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and after a few minutes making nice with the agents, I headed north to Petoskey, Michigan getting ready for a show at North Central Michigan University. I stopped along the way to go to a KFC restaurant because they were running their "free piece of the new grilled chicken" promotion (this was before the Oprah coupon debacle, if you've been following that) and my review is that the grilled chicken is pretty tasty, but it is grilled, not fried, so make sure you have a beverage on hand because it can get a little dry. I am of the opinion, however, that dry chicken is good because that means it's cooked all the way through, and I've had undercooked chicken and the nausea and vomiting that follow. I'll take it dry, thanks, and pass the Diet Coke.
The next morning, I headed over to the college and the battery light on my dashboard started to flicker to life, just as the needle on the battery charge indicator started dipping down to the "negative" sign. Just as I pulled into the college parking lot, the vehicle died. Long story short, alternator. I did a quick "teaser" event to promote the Dash For Dollars show, and then started working the phone to get the Automobile Club to send a tow-truck. Good news, there was a repair shop just a couple of blocks over, and the show wasn't for six hours. I unloaded all of the game show gear, and just as I was finishing, the AAA driver showed up. He hauled the van down to the repair shop, and there was only one other car in front of me, so it got fixed up in about 90 minutes, maybe less. I headed out to lunch, and then made my way back to campus. I set up the game show set, and then started trolling around the campus handing out dollar bills and promoting the evening show. The gambit worked, and the place was just packed! Nothing guarantees a good show like a big, full audience. Any kind of show, for that matter, is better with a crowd. The funniest comedian in the world can't rock two people, not without tickling them, anyhow. Give me a couple hundred and I'll show you a good time, I tell you what.
I had a couple of days off back at Grand Rapids where I stayed with Bill Smith, my college agent. I bummed around and did laundry and some administrative tasks I'd been putting off, like some basic bookkeeping and computer file maintenance. E-mails build up if you're constantly putting them in the "respond to later" file, but never responding to them. On Thursday afternoon, I brought in lunch for the office as a small token of thanks to the men and women who keep me employed. Every day, make a friend, I say. I found a great sandwich shop right near the office called "Broadway Subs" and the banner outside the shop said something about New Jersey so I decided right there that the food would be good, because New Jersey is an Italian outpost, and Italians know from the cold cuts. Germans know bologna and liverwurst, and maybe Muenster cheese, and after that, feh. I'll stick with the guineas on this one, thanks. I ordered up a sandwich tray and got some sodas and trotted it into the office in the pouring rain. Still, an army marches on their stomach. And if you're ever in Grand Rapids, get yourself one of those Broadway subs, they are De*Lish! I went back the next day and got a monster pastrami and provolone, and it was possibly the best ever. Then I went and saw "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" and it was awesome. Thursday night, I was invited to dinner by one of the agents and a couple of his buddies, and we hit BD's Mongolian Barbecue, a small chain restaurant that has locations all over Michigan. The four of us had a great time chatting over comics, movies, TV shows, and all the stuff that nerds like us go for. The company was good, the food was great, and before we knew it, we'd been sitting there for four hours. I don't socialize much, so it was nice to get out and do the "hang around" thing. By the way, BD's is De*Lish.
Friday night, I headlined a show at Shots Bar, Grill and Pizzeria, and it was fun, until some old sourdough truck driver named Charlie started making the rounds to every table and shaking hands like he was running for office. I tried to get him to sit down, but he seemed oblivious to the idea that we were doing a comedy show, and the next thing I knew, I was "stuck in the tar baby," trying to shut up a guy who was intoxicated AND southern. Pinch me, mama, I'm dreamin'! I drove home Saturday after a nice omelet breakfast at Bill's house. I'll say this for Bill Smith, he whips up a great plate of eggs considering I never see him eat anything. Earlier in the week, I brough over a package of bagels and he had whipped up a spread with real horseradish and garlic, and Neufchatel cheese. De*Lish, I say.
In case you're wondering, I'm trying to get "De*Lish" trademarked, so don't start using it, see?*
I was home for the first time in three weeks, and I hit the stage again, this time at The Comedy Club in Webster, performing for the benefit of the family of Tiny Glover, one of my good comedy friends who had died last year. I performed with Danny Liberto, Jamie Lissow, Pat Duffy, Dan Viola, and a few other guys I'd never met before, and I took the lead-off position. Tiny was a good guy, and I've talked about him in this space before so I'm not going to run over the same old ground again, but it felt good to perform in that event.
After a few days off, I was in the car again, with Ray Salah in tow, headed for Johnstown, Pennsylvania. I headlined a show at the Pony Club Lounge with special guest Spark Man. We had a thinner-than-usual attendance due to the Pittsburgh Penguins being in the NHL playoff against whomever they were playing, and folks stayed away in droves. We had a good show regardless, but there's something about a mostly empty room that's hard to get over. The next day, it was up to Strykersville, NY and a comedy benefit show for the troops at the Six Star American Legion Post. Weather and construction delays had caused me to show up at the club just a few minutes after our scheduled showtime, but I was going last on the bill so it didn't much hurt us. The room was sold out and the show was great (food was good, too) and again, I was happy to be included. Kudos to my co-stars, Josh Smith and Steve "The Nuclear Guy" Natarelli, who helped round out the evening. We would up raising $1,000 for the post, which wasn't bad considering Strykersville isn't that big a town to begin with.
I did my second-last game show date of the season on Friday in Madison, Indiana at Ivy Tech Community College. I was performing for the graduating class, and it was a phenomenal show. I caught a lucky break as the school had a freight-sized elevator that was big enough to get the Incredible Cash Cube up to the second level where the performance was, but we still had to call maintenance to get them to remove a door to get it into the room. The girl who was the grand-prize winner was pregnant, and I felt kinda good about that, because I know how much diapers and other "new baby" expenses are. I drove back all day Friday and after a lazy day here at the house (it rained and was pretty crappy so I stayed inside), I went out to the Comedy Club where two of my friends, Jason Russell and Ray Salah, were performing this weekend. They talked me into doing guest spots both shows (seriously, try to keep me off stage) and the crowds were a little stiff, but it was fun to go up and try some new material. After a while, I had to quit screwing around and do some of the "A" material, but that felt too much like work.
I've got ten days off before my last game show date of the season, and in the middle of that, I'm doing a cancer benefit here in Rochester (that will be my sixth benefit show this year) and then my club schedule revs up for June. In July, Ray and I are planning to do some family-friendly improv shows at the Comedy Club as we've had great success with the show for years doing First Night Celebrations in Binghamton and Buffalo, and want to branch out. In addition, I'm going to start teaching comedy classes again, and maybe that will be the impetus to finish my book about the subject. No matter what, I'm going to stay busy and try to enjoy some family time while I'm doing it.
It's cold and rainy, which doesn't feel like May, but it's gonna be hot soon enough. Enjoy what you have, when you have it.
*De*Lish is a trademark of Inner Loop Comedy Productions, copyright pending
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
The house is quiet.
Good evening, dear reader, or God Save Us, good morning, if you should rise so early. It's 2:30 in the morning and mommy and baby have both gone to bed, leaving daddy to his own devices, tip-tapping at the computer keyboard, searching the internet for all manner of information, gossip and drivel. It then occurred to me that I hadn't checked in with you in quite some time, and lo, it's almost been a month! Where has the time gone off to....
When last I reported, I was in a hotel room in Storm Lake, Iowa, preparing to perform for an all-night after-prom party for a small high school in Newell, Iowa. I was a little worried about the show, not that I wouldn't be funny, but that I could find the right balance of dirt. Youthful audiences crave blue material, and the adults who look after them fear it. One complaint, carefully worded, and an individual is out looking for a new job. Nobody needs that. I'm glad to say that the feedback that evening was excellent, and a follow-up by my college agent confirmed the same. I had a great time with the kids, and think I might pursue the position of professional commencement speaker. I think I'd be great in that role. If only I could inspire as many protesters as President Obama, then I'd really be on to something. Let's face it; if everyone agrees with you 100% of the time, you're either a pandering abjurer or a simpleton with nothing to contribute to the dialogue.
The drive the next day was a rainy one, and I was glad I was able to get my brakes done. The only thing worse than driving on wet pavement is driving on same without adequate brakes. The sun started shining through just a little before the Illinois border, and the rest of the trip was without incident. I arrived at the McCamley Park hotel in Battle Creek, Michigan, got myself cleaned up, ironed some clothing and headed over to Gary Field's Comedy Theater to participate in the annual Relay For Life benefit show for cancer relief. We had a great turnout, with every seat sold and dynamite performances from Gary Fields, John Face, Kathie Dice, Chris Young and Mike Evitts. I have done this event three times, and they keep asking me back, and I try to mix up my material because I don't want to get repetitious...one line got a woman to walk. Actually, she didn't care for the joke and was verbal in her criticism, and I whacked her the way I would any heckler. Hey, if you don't like the joke, sit down and shut up, everyone else laughed! Sometimes, majority rules whether you like it or not.
On Monday, I dragged my feet getting up to my college agency's office in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and after a few minutes making nice with the agents, I headed north to Petoskey, Michigan getting ready for a show at North Central Michigan University. I stopped along the way to go to a KFC restaurant because they were running their "free piece of the new grilled chicken" promotion (this was before the Oprah coupon debacle, if you've been following that) and my review is that the grilled chicken is pretty tasty, but it is grilled, not fried, so make sure you have a beverage on hand because it can get a little dry. I am of the opinion, however, that dry chicken is good because that means it's cooked all the way through, and I've had undercooked chicken and the nausea and vomiting that follow. I'll take it dry, thanks, and pass the Diet Coke.
The next morning, I headed over to the college and the battery light on my dashboard started to flicker to life, just as the needle on the battery charge indicator started dipping down to the "negative" sign. Just as I pulled into the college parking lot, the vehicle died. Long story short, alternator. I did a quick "teaser" event to promote the Dash For Dollars show, and then started working the phone to get the Automobile Club to send a tow-truck. Good news, there was a repair shop just a couple of blocks over, and the show wasn't for six hours. I unloaded all of the game show gear, and just as I was finishing, the AAA driver showed up. He hauled the van down to the repair shop, and there was only one other car in front of me, so it got fixed up in about 90 minutes, maybe less. I headed out to lunch, and then made my way back to campus. I set up the game show set, and then started trolling around the campus handing out dollar bills and promoting the evening show. The gambit worked, and the place was just packed! Nothing guarantees a good show like a big, full audience. Any kind of show, for that matter, is better with a crowd. The funniest comedian in the world can't rock two people, not without tickling them, anyhow. Give me a couple hundred and I'll show you a good time, I tell you what.
I had a couple of days off back at Grand Rapids where I stayed with Bill Smith, my college agent. I bummed around and did laundry and some administrative tasks I'd been putting off, like some basic bookkeeping and computer file maintenance. E-mails build up if you're constantly putting them in the "respond to later" file, but never responding to them. On Thursday afternoon, I brought in lunch for the office as a small token of thanks to the men and women who keep me employed. Every day, make a friend, I say. I found a great sandwich shop right near the office called "Broadway Subs" and the banner outside the shop said something about New Jersey so I decided right there that the food would be good, because New Jersey is an Italian outpost, and Italians know from the cold cuts. Germans know bologna and liverwurst, and maybe Muenster cheese, and after that, feh. I'll stick with the guineas on this one, thanks. I ordered up a sandwich tray and got some sodas and trotted it into the office in the pouring rain. Still, an army marches on their stomach. And if you're ever in Grand Rapids, get yourself one of those Broadway subs, they are De*Lish! I went back the next day and got a monster pastrami and provolone, and it was possibly the best ever. Then I went and saw "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" and it was awesome. Thursday night, I was invited to dinner by one of the agents and a couple of his buddies, and we hit BD's Mongolian Barbecue, a small chain restaurant that has locations all over Michigan. The four of us had a great time chatting over comics, movies, TV shows, and all the stuff that nerds like us go for. The company was good, the food was great, and before we knew it, we'd been sitting there for four hours. I don't socialize much, so it was nice to get out and do the "hang around" thing. By the way, BD's is De*Lish.
Friday night, I headlined a show at Shots Bar, Grill and Pizzeria, and it was fun, until some old sourdough truck driver named Charlie started making the rounds to every table and shaking hands like he was running for office. I tried to get him to sit down, but he seemed oblivious to the idea that we were doing a comedy show, and the next thing I knew, I was "stuck in the tar baby," trying to shut up a guy who was intoxicated AND southern. Pinch me, mama, I'm dreamin'! I drove home Saturday after a nice omelet breakfast at Bill's house. I'll say this for Bill Smith, he whips up a great plate of eggs considering I never see him eat anything. Earlier in the week, I brough over a package of bagels and he had whipped up a spread with real horseradish and garlic, and Neufchatel cheese. De*Lish, I say.
In case you're wondering, I'm trying to get "De*Lish" trademarked, so don't start using it, see?*
I was home for the first time in three weeks, and I hit the stage again, this time at The Comedy Club in Webster, performing for the benefit of the family of Tiny Glover, one of my good comedy friends who had died last year. I performed with Danny Liberto, Jamie Lissow, Pat Duffy, Dan Viola, and a few other guys I'd never met before, and I took the lead-off position. Tiny was a good guy, and I've talked about him in this space before so I'm not going to run over the same old ground again, but it felt good to perform in that event.
After a few days off, I was in the car again, with Ray Salah in tow, headed for Johnstown, Pennsylvania. I headlined a show at the Pony Club Lounge with special guest Spark Man. We had a thinner-than-usual attendance due to the Pittsburgh Penguins being in the NHL playoff against whomever they were playing, and folks stayed away in droves. We had a good show regardless, but there's something about a mostly empty room that's hard to get over. The next day, it was up to Strykersville, NY and a comedy benefit show for the troops at the Six Star American Legion Post. Weather and construction delays had caused me to show up at the club just a few minutes after our scheduled showtime, but I was going last on the bill so it didn't much hurt us. The room was sold out and the show was great (food was good, too) and again, I was happy to be included. Kudos to my co-stars, Josh Smith and Steve "The Nuclear Guy" Natarelli, who helped round out the evening. We would up raising $1,000 for the post, which wasn't bad considering Strykersville isn't that big a town to begin with.
I did my second-last game show date of the season on Friday in Madison, Indiana at Ivy Tech Community College. I was performing for the graduating class, and it was a phenomenal show. I caught a lucky break as the school had a freight-sized elevator that was big enough to get the Incredible Cash Cube up to the second level where the performance was, but we still had to call maintenance to get them to remove a door to get it into the room. The girl who was the grand-prize winner was pregnant, and I felt kinda good about that, because I know how much diapers and other "new baby" expenses are. I drove back all day Friday and after a lazy day here at the house (it rained and was pretty crappy so I stayed inside), I went out to the Comedy Club where two of my friends, Jason Russell and Ray Salah, were performing this weekend. They talked me into doing guest spots both shows (seriously, try to keep me off stage) and the crowds were a little stiff, but it was fun to go up and try some new material. After a while, I had to quit screwing around and do some of the "A" material, but that felt too much like work.
I've got ten days off before my last game show date of the season, and in the middle of that, I'm doing a cancer benefit here in Rochester (that will be my sixth benefit show this year) and then my club schedule revs up for June. In July, Ray and I are planning to do some family-friendly improv shows at the Comedy Club as we've had great success with the show for years doing First Night Celebrations in Binghamton and Buffalo, and want to branch out. In addition, I'm going to start teaching comedy classes again, and maybe that will be the impetus to finish my book about the subject. No matter what, I'm going to stay busy and try to enjoy some family time while I'm doing it.
It's cold and rainy, which doesn't feel like May, but it's gonna be hot soon enough. Enjoy what you have, when you have it.
*De*Lish is a trademark of Inner Loop Comedy Productions, copyright pending
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Iowa Stubborn (Meredith Wilson)
Good evening from Storm Lake, Iowa, where menacing grey clouds hover over the area, threatening to discharge a cold rain on the aptly-named community.
I'm at the Super 8 Motel, relaxing before a late-night show for the After-Prom revelers of Newell-Fonda Community School in Newell, Iowa. My report time is midnight, which officially makes this the latest "late show" I've ever done in my 20-plus year comedy career.
The tour started 12 days ago, with a drive out of Rochester, NY on Tuesday the 14th. I made my way down the Interstate 90 for what felt like the thousandth time, and got deep into Indiana before deciding to hunker down for the evening. I stopped along the way to refuel at an Indiana tollway rest stop, and as I pumped the gas into the van, standing out in the chilly night air, I soaked in the scenery. There wasn't much going on by the way of other travelers, although at a pump opposite me, a young lady was crying and hugging an older lady, and she was driving a panel truck with the Budget Rent-A-Car logo on the side. I couldn't tell exactly what the problem was, except that the truck was pointing the opposite way of the traffic flow. The two women talked, the older one assuring the younger one that everything would be o.k., and I struggled to figure out what was going on. The older woman then left the younger one, and started emptying the garbage cans at the pumps, which confused me because I thought they were traveling together. It was confusing, to say the least, and I paid for my gas, quit eavesdropping and went on my way. I found my way to the Motel 6 in South Bend, Indiana, and got a decent night's sleep.
The next day, I drove to Carlinville, Illinois, home of Blackburn College for a Dash For Dollars game show engagement. The show was a lot of fun, with a lot of excited students eager to compete for the money. It's always a thrill to me to do the show because I remember being broke most of the time when I was in college and I know how cool it was to come into a windfall every now and again. I was in the college's main auditorium, and I had my own dedicated sound technician, who provided me with a lapel mic, ran my sound, and helped me with props. I enjoyed working with the lapel mic, as it kept my hands free to work with the props that we use in the show without having to sacrifice the ability to amplify my voice. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, my bluetooth fell out of my gig bag, never to be seen again. I still had the charger, but I needed my bluetooth replaced. It would have to wait.
Thursday was a drive to Fort Smith, Arkansas and an engagement at the Electric Cowboy, a Comedy Zone one-nighter. I worked with a funny young comic named Gains Kelly, and we had a really good turnout. I was closing, and I took advantage of the time to stretch out and work with the crowd as I like to do from time to time, and it went really well. Thanks to Heff and Joel at Comedy Zone for the opportunity, and don't worry, the check's in the mail.
Friday was a day off so I lingered in Fort Smith and got my oil changed (gotta take care of the vehicle) and then drove west to Oklahoma City where my good friends Jason Russell and Steve Burr were working at the Looney Bin comedy club. I checked myself into a Motel 6 and joined up with them at the club and we did the "pal-around" thing. Jason was driving a new car, one that he was very protective of, and Steve wanted to prank him. While Jason was on stage at the late show, Steve and I went out into the parking lot and using some duct tape that I was carrying around in the van, we rigged together some empty Red Bull cans and attached them to the underside of Jason's car so that when he drove away, he would think something was dragging.
The stunt went off without a hitch; the trick was to position the cans so that Jason wouldn't see them as he approached the car, and he had parked far away from the door of the club so that no one would park near his car. The problem is that the farther away you get from a car, the more you can see what's underneath it. We set the cans up so that the rear right tire blocked the view of them, and I thought the jig was up when Jason walked around to his trunk to put his suitcase full of t-shirts away. Luckily, he was distracted enough so that he didn't see them, and when he started driving away, it was absolutely priceless. He started driving forward (he had backed into the space) and then once the cans started dragging, he paused, then started up again, heard the noise again, and got out of the car immediately. Once he saw the cans, I flashed him the roll of duct tape and he realized he'd been had.
The evening wasn't without some other excitement. Without wanting to toot my own horn, I'll instead insert a passage from Steve Burr's accounting of the incident, culled from his blog at www.steveburrcomedy.com;
It's been a pretty good week so far and I'm really enjoying the company of the two comics I'm working with, Jason Russell and Susan Freeman. Our threesome has been joined the last couple of days by one of my old Rochester buddies, Ralph Tetta. He's in the area with a few days off so he made the drive to the OKC to hang out, and it's lucky for Jason that he did. Ralphie stopped a potential merchandise theft at last night's show dead in it's tracks.
Jason and I were set up outside the showroom between shows to peddle some merchandise, when during the commotion of shaking hands and moving product, some sticky fingered girl thought she'd help herself to one of Mr. Russell's T-shirts, something neither me or the J-man noticed. Ralph however locked in on her instantly and as she made her way past him he reached out and snagged the T-shirt out of her hands, to which she quickly replied, "do you work here?", like that would have made a difference in whether what she did was right or wrong. Ralph told her he did and she beat feet out the door. I was standing right next to him and saw the whole thing happen, but didn't know she had stolen something so I wasn't completely aware what I was seeing. I will tell you this though, Ralph was as cool as a cucumber in busting this chick and didn't even look at her or the shirt when he grabbed it back. He just reached out and plucked it from her hands like some kind of Secret Service agent or something. It was impressive for sure.
I always wanted to be a superhero, and while I don't feel my actions were any bit heroic, I'll take the accolades where I can get them.
Saturday was a laundry day, and Steve and I got together for lunch, and then we went to Target where I purchased a new bluetooth. The unit was different than the one I lost, and I don't like it as much, but the charger was the same as the other one I had, which left me with an extra. You never know when you're going to need a spare charger. I went back to the room to relax, and then Saturday night, I hung out with my comedy compatriots and they were able to talk management into letting me warm up the mic a little on the late show. I went in and did my thing, and it felt good; I have to admit that there's nothing in my life that's much more uncomfortable than being in a room where there's comedy going on, and not getting my turn on stage.
On Sunday, Jason, Steve and I went to lunch with J.P., a guy that works at the Looney Bin, and we had some authentic Mexican food, and then made our way over to the Oklahoma City National Memorial. Out of nothing more than coincidence did it happen that my visit correlated with the anniversary of Timothy McVeigh's heinous act of domestic terrorism. There were long lines to get into the museum, so we made our way around the grounds and read the plaques that adorned the outdoor displays. I have to admit that I got awfully choked up whenever any mention of the children at the daycare center were mentioned; in addition, there was a long, chain-link fence along the front of the memorial, and visitors from all across the country left mementos fastened to it; license plates from various states were popular, as were teddy bears and photos, and it reminded me way too much of the spontaneous memorials that pop up in my urban neighborhood back home when someone dies in an act of violence. It was sobering, to say the least.
On Monday, I lazily checked out of the hotel and made my way into New Mexico, stopping just short of the Colorado border. I checked into another Motel 6, and surveyed the town of Raton to see what it offered a weary traveler who was also hungry, and just picked up another hour due to the time change driving west. I ate at a restaurant called K-Bob's Steakhouse (www.kbobs.com) and enjoyed their unlimited Salad Wagon which featured their famous Kettle O' Beans (or whatever they called it). It was one of my very few nods this week towards trying to eat healthy. I've been so busy, the sit-down restaurant hasn't exactly been an option and my body is paying the price for it. I've gotten doughy around the middle, and I need to make a turn-around but quickly.
Tuesday, I headed north into Trinidad, Colorado, and while it was only a 25-mile or so drive, it was one of the most impressive. At one point, I was travelling up a mountain road and came around a ridge, and then saw snow-capped mountains in the distance. It was the first time I'd ever seen them in real life, and it was inspiring enough to give me pause. Then I realized that it was like the scenery in the background of every South Park episode, and the recognition made me chuckle a little inside. The day was spent killing time as my early arrival left me with extra time on my hands, so I walked around in a Wal-Mart and picked up a couple of items to make my life a little easier. I arrived early at the college, but loading in the gear for the show turned out to be challenging because the cafeteria didn't include a door that was large enough for the Incredible Cash Cube to fit through, so we managed to talk some Facilities technicians into removing a door for us. The sound system turned out to leave something to be desired, so I abandoned it and managed to do the show without it, and it turned out just fine. Being able to improvise is clearly the key in being able to do one of these game shows successfully.
Wednesday was a travel day, and I made my way up through Pueblo, Colorado Springs and Denver. The whole week before, I was nervous because of the reports of snow that the area had received, and not only because I don't enjoy driving in blizzards, but also because I had failed to bring foul-weather winter clothing. When I left Rochester, it was warming up and I decided that a heavy hooded sweatshirt would do the trick, and somehow decided to also pack a knit hat and gloves just in case. The good news is that the snow was gone, but I still wound up hitting Denver at 5 o'clock. It bothers me that in a time when we're supposedly experiencing record unemployment as a nation that it hasn't provided some relief on the highways of our major cities.
I made it all the way to North Platte, Nebraska, site of Mid Plains Community College, the next stop on my Dash For Dollars Western Tour. I was contemplating dragging my feet and stopping at the Nebraska-Colorado border and making the rest of the journey the next day, but the highway was empty, the sun was shining and I decided to go for it. If you're never driven across Nebraska, let me just say this; farm states are resplendent with manure, and there's no escaping it. There's two kinds of farms, crops and livestock. Livestock farms produce manure, and crop farms spread it around and let it bake in the sun. The odor floated around in my nose like ghosts in the attic of a haunted house. I checked into a Motel 6, did some laundry, and then watched TV because they didn't have wireless internet, and any attempt to dial-up would have resulted in long-distance charges. I was out there, Jack.
The next day, I packed up my stuff, hit the bank, ate lunch, shopped for props (do you realize how hard it is to find Bubblicious Bubblegum in a small town?), and then moved over to another hotel that Mid Plains had reserved for me. I realized somewhere along the line that my back brakes were grinding, and I needed to do what I do quite often; live in the future. I checked my date book to see when I would have a four-hour block of time to get work done on the van, and decided that I'd have to stick it out until Saturday morning when I'd be in a big city (Sioux City, Iowa) and close to the next gig (Newell-Fonda Community School, a mere 90 minutes away). I made my way to the gig, and found that they put me in a huge gymnasium reserved for basketball games. I had only played one other gymnasium in this first year of my game show hosting career, and that show was sparsely attended. I had a decent crowd and an extremely hospitable support staff at the college, and a stadium-worthy sound system that ROCKED!
Friday, I headed toward Sioux City, Iowa after reloading my cash supply at Wells-Fargo (who treated me very kindly in breaking up large bills even though I didn't have an account) and I rolled into town and checked into the Rodeway Inn. I had about 45 minutes to shower and dress before I had to leave for Briar Cliff University, and I made it with a few minutes to spare. Fred Seel, my contact at the school, had provided me with a detailed map so I knew exactly where I was going, which helped a lot. We had plenty of volunteers to help with the load-in (which isn't always the case) and we wound up needing them because the Cash Cube had to be carried down a small set of stairs into the performance area (and carried up the stairs on the way out). The show was awesome, with a lot of audience interaction, money flying through the air, and we even did a little video interview after the show as the winner of the contest and I got to enjoy a few minutes of fame. I'm happy to report that neither I nor the young lady who won the grand prize were asked our opinions about gay marriage; apparently that sort of thing can get you a lot of negative press.
Back at the ranch, I started combing the phone book looking for brake shops with Saturday hours, and I found one that was less than a mile and a half away from the hotel. I watched television until I passed out, and the next morning, called an establishment called Tires Tires Tires. The store was booked up and wouldn't be able to help me, but suggested that I try their other location. I had nightmare visions of having to drive 40 miles away, but it was just up the road about 5 or 6 miles. They got me in and I got the repairs done with enough time to get back to the hotel to shower and pack up. Unfortunately, I was in such a hurry, I left behind my phone and bluetooth charger. I had a backup bluetooth charger and I carry a phone charger in the van, but I was still pissed at myself for rushing out of the hotel. Seriously, if I was a few minutes late in checking out, what were they going to do, beat me up? My biggest problem seems to be (besides carelessness) that I never pack my luggage the same way twice, and so I never remember where I put stuff, and I can't do a check to make sure I didn't forget anything. Stuff like phone chargers like to hide because the outlets they're plugged into are always behind end tables and cabinets.
So now, here I am at the Super 8, getting ready for a 12:30 AM show, and looking down the barrel of a 635-mile drive tomorrow to Battle Creek, Michigan, to participate in a benefit show for Relay For Life, a cancer relief charity. I'm going to lose an hour as I return to the Eastern time zone, and the drive will take at least nine or ten hours if there are no weather or traffic related delays. The show starts at 7 PM, so the question I have to answer is when I have to leave Storm Lake to make it to Battle Creek in time to get a shower and dress. There's plenty of time for sleeping afterwards.
I'll be in Michigan for the rest of next week and then heading for home next Saturday. It's going to be good to get back home, and then on Sunday, May 3rd, I'll be performing at a tribute show for my friend, Tiny Glover, who passed away recently. May is going to be a relatively slow month with a lot of time off to spend at home, and I'll be looking forward to it. Right now, it's time to get into "show" mode by ironing a shirt and getting a shower. I usually get ready for shows with mindless activities that keep me distracted from the task before me.
You don't think these blogs write themselves, do ya?
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
I'm at the Super 8 Motel, relaxing before a late-night show for the After-Prom revelers of Newell-Fonda Community School in Newell, Iowa. My report time is midnight, which officially makes this the latest "late show" I've ever done in my 20-plus year comedy career.
The tour started 12 days ago, with a drive out of Rochester, NY on Tuesday the 14th. I made my way down the Interstate 90 for what felt like the thousandth time, and got deep into Indiana before deciding to hunker down for the evening. I stopped along the way to refuel at an Indiana tollway rest stop, and as I pumped the gas into the van, standing out in the chilly night air, I soaked in the scenery. There wasn't much going on by the way of other travelers, although at a pump opposite me, a young lady was crying and hugging an older lady, and she was driving a panel truck with the Budget Rent-A-Car logo on the side. I couldn't tell exactly what the problem was, except that the truck was pointing the opposite way of the traffic flow. The two women talked, the older one assuring the younger one that everything would be o.k., and I struggled to figure out what was going on. The older woman then left the younger one, and started emptying the garbage cans at the pumps, which confused me because I thought they were traveling together. It was confusing, to say the least, and I paid for my gas, quit eavesdropping and went on my way. I found my way to the Motel 6 in South Bend, Indiana, and got a decent night's sleep.
The next day, I drove to Carlinville, Illinois, home of Blackburn College for a Dash For Dollars game show engagement. The show was a lot of fun, with a lot of excited students eager to compete for the money. It's always a thrill to me to do the show because I remember being broke most of the time when I was in college and I know how cool it was to come into a windfall every now and again. I was in the college's main auditorium, and I had my own dedicated sound technician, who provided me with a lapel mic, ran my sound, and helped me with props. I enjoyed working with the lapel mic, as it kept my hands free to work with the props that we use in the show without having to sacrifice the ability to amplify my voice. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, my bluetooth fell out of my gig bag, never to be seen again. I still had the charger, but I needed my bluetooth replaced. It would have to wait.
Thursday was a drive to Fort Smith, Arkansas and an engagement at the Electric Cowboy, a Comedy Zone one-nighter. I worked with a funny young comic named Gains Kelly, and we had a really good turnout. I was closing, and I took advantage of the time to stretch out and work with the crowd as I like to do from time to time, and it went really well. Thanks to Heff and Joel at Comedy Zone for the opportunity, and don't worry, the check's in the mail.
Friday was a day off so I lingered in Fort Smith and got my oil changed (gotta take care of the vehicle) and then drove west to Oklahoma City where my good friends Jason Russell and Steve Burr were working at the Looney Bin comedy club. I checked myself into a Motel 6 and joined up with them at the club and we did the "pal-around" thing. Jason was driving a new car, one that he was very protective of, and Steve wanted to prank him. While Jason was on stage at the late show, Steve and I went out into the parking lot and using some duct tape that I was carrying around in the van, we rigged together some empty Red Bull cans and attached them to the underside of Jason's car so that when he drove away, he would think something was dragging.
The stunt went off without a hitch; the trick was to position the cans so that Jason wouldn't see them as he approached the car, and he had parked far away from the door of the club so that no one would park near his car. The problem is that the farther away you get from a car, the more you can see what's underneath it. We set the cans up so that the rear right tire blocked the view of them, and I thought the jig was up when Jason walked around to his trunk to put his suitcase full of t-shirts away. Luckily, he was distracted enough so that he didn't see them, and when he started driving away, it was absolutely priceless. He started driving forward (he had backed into the space) and then once the cans started dragging, he paused, then started up again, heard the noise again, and got out of the car immediately. Once he saw the cans, I flashed him the roll of duct tape and he realized he'd been had.
The evening wasn't without some other excitement. Without wanting to toot my own horn, I'll instead insert a passage from Steve Burr's accounting of the incident, culled from his blog at www.steveburrcomedy.com;
It's been a pretty good week so far and I'm really enjoying the company of the two comics I'm working with, Jason Russell and Susan Freeman. Our threesome has been joined the last couple of days by one of my old Rochester buddies, Ralph Tetta. He's in the area with a few days off so he made the drive to the OKC to hang out, and it's lucky for Jason that he did. Ralphie stopped a potential merchandise theft at last night's show dead in it's tracks.
Jason and I were set up outside the showroom between shows to peddle some merchandise, when during the commotion of shaking hands and moving product, some sticky fingered girl thought she'd help herself to one of Mr. Russell's T-shirts, something neither me or the J-man noticed. Ralph however locked in on her instantly and as she made her way past him he reached out and snagged the T-shirt out of her hands, to which she quickly replied, "do you work here?", like that would have made a difference in whether what she did was right or wrong. Ralph told her he did and she beat feet out the door. I was standing right next to him and saw the whole thing happen, but didn't know she had stolen something so I wasn't completely aware what I was seeing. I will tell you this though, Ralph was as cool as a cucumber in busting this chick and didn't even look at her or the shirt when he grabbed it back. He just reached out and plucked it from her hands like some kind of Secret Service agent or something. It was impressive for sure.
I always wanted to be a superhero, and while I don't feel my actions were any bit heroic, I'll take the accolades where I can get them.
Saturday was a laundry day, and Steve and I got together for lunch, and then we went to Target where I purchased a new bluetooth. The unit was different than the one I lost, and I don't like it as much, but the charger was the same as the other one I had, which left me with an extra. You never know when you're going to need a spare charger. I went back to the room to relax, and then Saturday night, I hung out with my comedy compatriots and they were able to talk management into letting me warm up the mic a little on the late show. I went in and did my thing, and it felt good; I have to admit that there's nothing in my life that's much more uncomfortable than being in a room where there's comedy going on, and not getting my turn on stage.
On Sunday, Jason, Steve and I went to lunch with J.P., a guy that works at the Looney Bin, and we had some authentic Mexican food, and then made our way over to the Oklahoma City National Memorial. Out of nothing more than coincidence did it happen that my visit correlated with the anniversary of Timothy McVeigh's heinous act of domestic terrorism. There were long lines to get into the museum, so we made our way around the grounds and read the plaques that adorned the outdoor displays. I have to admit that I got awfully choked up whenever any mention of the children at the daycare center were mentioned; in addition, there was a long, chain-link fence along the front of the memorial, and visitors from all across the country left mementos fastened to it; license plates from various states were popular, as were teddy bears and photos, and it reminded me way too much of the spontaneous memorials that pop up in my urban neighborhood back home when someone dies in an act of violence. It was sobering, to say the least.
On Monday, I lazily checked out of the hotel and made my way into New Mexico, stopping just short of the Colorado border. I checked into another Motel 6, and surveyed the town of Raton to see what it offered a weary traveler who was also hungry, and just picked up another hour due to the time change driving west. I ate at a restaurant called K-Bob's Steakhouse (www.kbobs.com) and enjoyed their unlimited Salad Wagon which featured their famous Kettle O' Beans (or whatever they called it). It was one of my very few nods this week towards trying to eat healthy. I've been so busy, the sit-down restaurant hasn't exactly been an option and my body is paying the price for it. I've gotten doughy around the middle, and I need to make a turn-around but quickly.
Tuesday, I headed north into Trinidad, Colorado, and while it was only a 25-mile or so drive, it was one of the most impressive. At one point, I was travelling up a mountain road and came around a ridge, and then saw snow-capped mountains in the distance. It was the first time I'd ever seen them in real life, and it was inspiring enough to give me pause. Then I realized that it was like the scenery in the background of every South Park episode, and the recognition made me chuckle a little inside. The day was spent killing time as my early arrival left me with extra time on my hands, so I walked around in a Wal-Mart and picked up a couple of items to make my life a little easier. I arrived early at the college, but loading in the gear for the show turned out to be challenging because the cafeteria didn't include a door that was large enough for the Incredible Cash Cube to fit through, so we managed to talk some Facilities technicians into removing a door for us. The sound system turned out to leave something to be desired, so I abandoned it and managed to do the show without it, and it turned out just fine. Being able to improvise is clearly the key in being able to do one of these game shows successfully.
Wednesday was a travel day, and I made my way up through Pueblo, Colorado Springs and Denver. The whole week before, I was nervous because of the reports of snow that the area had received, and not only because I don't enjoy driving in blizzards, but also because I had failed to bring foul-weather winter clothing. When I left Rochester, it was warming up and I decided that a heavy hooded sweatshirt would do the trick, and somehow decided to also pack a knit hat and gloves just in case. The good news is that the snow was gone, but I still wound up hitting Denver at 5 o'clock. It bothers me that in a time when we're supposedly experiencing record unemployment as a nation that it hasn't provided some relief on the highways of our major cities.
I made it all the way to North Platte, Nebraska, site of Mid Plains Community College, the next stop on my Dash For Dollars Western Tour. I was contemplating dragging my feet and stopping at the Nebraska-Colorado border and making the rest of the journey the next day, but the highway was empty, the sun was shining and I decided to go for it. If you're never driven across Nebraska, let me just say this; farm states are resplendent with manure, and there's no escaping it. There's two kinds of farms, crops and livestock. Livestock farms produce manure, and crop farms spread it around and let it bake in the sun. The odor floated around in my nose like ghosts in the attic of a haunted house. I checked into a Motel 6, did some laundry, and then watched TV because they didn't have wireless internet, and any attempt to dial-up would have resulted in long-distance charges. I was out there, Jack.
The next day, I packed up my stuff, hit the bank, ate lunch, shopped for props (do you realize how hard it is to find Bubblicious Bubblegum in a small town?), and then moved over to another hotel that Mid Plains had reserved for me. I realized somewhere along the line that my back brakes were grinding, and I needed to do what I do quite often; live in the future. I checked my date book to see when I would have a four-hour block of time to get work done on the van, and decided that I'd have to stick it out until Saturday morning when I'd be in a big city (Sioux City, Iowa) and close to the next gig (Newell-Fonda Community School, a mere 90 minutes away). I made my way to the gig, and found that they put me in a huge gymnasium reserved for basketball games. I had only played one other gymnasium in this first year of my game show hosting career, and that show was sparsely attended. I had a decent crowd and an extremely hospitable support staff at the college, and a stadium-worthy sound system that ROCKED!
Friday, I headed toward Sioux City, Iowa after reloading my cash supply at Wells-Fargo (who treated me very kindly in breaking up large bills even though I didn't have an account) and I rolled into town and checked into the Rodeway Inn. I had about 45 minutes to shower and dress before I had to leave for Briar Cliff University, and I made it with a few minutes to spare. Fred Seel, my contact at the school, had provided me with a detailed map so I knew exactly where I was going, which helped a lot. We had plenty of volunteers to help with the load-in (which isn't always the case) and we wound up needing them because the Cash Cube had to be carried down a small set of stairs into the performance area (and carried up the stairs on the way out). The show was awesome, with a lot of audience interaction, money flying through the air, and we even did a little video interview after the show as the winner of the contest and I got to enjoy a few minutes of fame. I'm happy to report that neither I nor the young lady who won the grand prize were asked our opinions about gay marriage; apparently that sort of thing can get you a lot of negative press.
Back at the ranch, I started combing the phone book looking for brake shops with Saturday hours, and I found one that was less than a mile and a half away from the hotel. I watched television until I passed out, and the next morning, called an establishment called Tires Tires Tires. The store was booked up and wouldn't be able to help me, but suggested that I try their other location. I had nightmare visions of having to drive 40 miles away, but it was just up the road about 5 or 6 miles. They got me in and I got the repairs done with enough time to get back to the hotel to shower and pack up. Unfortunately, I was in such a hurry, I left behind my phone and bluetooth charger. I had a backup bluetooth charger and I carry a phone charger in the van, but I was still pissed at myself for rushing out of the hotel. Seriously, if I was a few minutes late in checking out, what were they going to do, beat me up? My biggest problem seems to be (besides carelessness) that I never pack my luggage the same way twice, and so I never remember where I put stuff, and I can't do a check to make sure I didn't forget anything. Stuff like phone chargers like to hide because the outlets they're plugged into are always behind end tables and cabinets.
So now, here I am at the Super 8, getting ready for a 12:30 AM show, and looking down the barrel of a 635-mile drive tomorrow to Battle Creek, Michigan, to participate in a benefit show for Relay For Life, a cancer relief charity. I'm going to lose an hour as I return to the Eastern time zone, and the drive will take at least nine or ten hours if there are no weather or traffic related delays. The show starts at 7 PM, so the question I have to answer is when I have to leave Storm Lake to make it to Battle Creek in time to get a shower and dress. There's plenty of time for sleeping afterwards.
I'll be in Michigan for the rest of next week and then heading for home next Saturday. It's going to be good to get back home, and then on Sunday, May 3rd, I'll be performing at a tribute show for my friend, Tiny Glover, who passed away recently. May is going to be a relatively slow month with a lot of time off to spend at home, and I'll be looking forward to it. Right now, it's time to get into "show" mode by ironing a shirt and getting a shower. I usually get ready for shows with mindless activities that keep me distracted from the task before me.
You don't think these blogs write themselves, do ya?
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tessie (Dropkick Murphys)
Well, it's that time of year again, and that means that baseball season has started. And it's time for me to come clean to the American public, and state, for the record, THAT I HATE BASEBALL.
Always have. It's a fucking pox. It's a shitty game. Boring as hell, puffed up on it's own self-importance, and followed by the shallowest of human beings.
The big arguments are widely held, even by fans and people in the baseball industry. And yet they blindly soldier on, drinking beer, eating peanuts, and keeping track of statistics. Well, let's take a look at this bullshit game that stopped being the "national pastime" sometime during the Nixon administration.
1. THEY PLAY TOO MANY GAMES. 162 games a year, to be precise. Well, let's do the math...that's double the games that hockey and basketball teams play in a season, and about ten times the number of games a football team plays. So basically what you're telling me is that a team could dump a ton of games in the crapper, and still be considered one of the best. All sports is frivolous, but baseball seeks to make frivolity an art form. Let's cut the season down to a reasonable number of games so that individual games actually mean something. I think baseball sucks, so I'd be satisfied with every team playing every other team once and then start the playoffs. Hell, NFL teams go eight years before they go through the rotation and play every other team, and they have the same number of teams.
2. BASEBALL IS NOT A TEAM SPORT. When it comes down to it, the game is a face off between a pitcher and a batter. And most of the fielding team doesn't even move once a ball is put in play. You want to liven the sport up for Ralph Tetta? You want to get me involved? Get rid of the benches, and let the batter's team hang out on the field. Easy out, pop fly? The batter has a guy right there to push the fielder out of the way and prevent him from catching the batter "out." Or, he could catch the ball, and then the batter's team plays a spirited game of "keep away" while the batter rounds the bases. Either way, you've got a sport that's fun to watch and challenging to play. Now that I've chimed in with my plan for improvement, regular baseball sounds like shit, doesn't it? You're god damned right it does.
3. THEY CALL THE CHAMPION SHIP "THE WORLD SERIES." And all the teams are from the United States, unless the Toronto Blue Jays somehow sneak into the playoffs. The only thing "world" about the series is that there are usually a butt-load of South American and Asian guys on the teams, and what does that say about the game when Asian guys are athletic enough to make the team?
4. THE MANAGERS WEAR UNIFORMS. Fucking ridiculous. Granted, it's rooted in tradition when the manager of a team would also be a player, but again, how stupid does some old fat guy look trotting out in pinstripes? It's as out of place as the 14-year-old kid who rings your door at Halloween looking for candy, and it needs to go. And how about updating the look of the uniforms, anyway? A baseball team looks like a busload of douche bags in their pajamas...they're not on their way to a physical contest, it's nap time.
5. THE ALL-STAR GAME IS PLAYED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SEASON. Not to be disparaging, but is that really fair to all the players? A guy who's picked as an "all-star" could shit the bed in the second half, or a rookie player could hit his stride and start streaking after being passed over. Fuck if we're gonna be so nonchalant about the placement of the All-Star game, play the fucking thing in the winter. During Christmas week, when everyone's out of town for the holidays.
6. DOUBLE HEADERS. Let's face it, if you can play two games in a day, it's not even physically strenuous enough to be called a sport. And what happens when your team wins one and loses the other? What are you supposed to do, celebrate and mope?
Baseball appeals to people who like statistics. You know who else likes numbers that much? Accountants. And everyone knows what a bag of laughs they are. Baseball is an out-of-date system that we keep in place for some misguided traditionalism, like the Electoral College. It has no place in society, and takes more than it gives. Congress actually got side-tracked from dealing with real issues like war and the economy to try and figure out if players had used steroids or not. I demand a recount.
Baseball is light on action. If you want to play up the strategy aspect of the game, here's a one-word rebuttal.....chess. My amplified answer is "Chess, motherfucker." During an NFL contest, every player on the field is in motion. During an NBA or NHL contest, every player is in motion until the period is over. In baseball, there's a lot of standing around.....talking......and scratching. Sometimes, the manager and the catcher take a stroll out to the mound for a sidebar. YAWN.
Some of the teams are named after laundry. The Boston Red Sox? You do realize that this nick-name is only one generation removed from calling themselves the Boston White-Striped Boxer-Briefs. Lame, lame, and more lame.
In closing, I will offer one positive observation about baseball, just so you baseball lovers won't think I'm all bad. Baseball has provided people like me who don't like guns an alternate form of home security in the baseball bat. It's way more effective than trying to chase off home invaders with a hockey stick or a ping-pong paddle.
Play ball.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester (Red Wings), NY
Always have. It's a fucking pox. It's a shitty game. Boring as hell, puffed up on it's own self-importance, and followed by the shallowest of human beings.
The big arguments are widely held, even by fans and people in the baseball industry. And yet they blindly soldier on, drinking beer, eating peanuts, and keeping track of statistics. Well, let's take a look at this bullshit game that stopped being the "national pastime" sometime during the Nixon administration.
1. THEY PLAY TOO MANY GAMES. 162 games a year, to be precise. Well, let's do the math...that's double the games that hockey and basketball teams play in a season, and about ten times the number of games a football team plays. So basically what you're telling me is that a team could dump a ton of games in the crapper, and still be considered one of the best. All sports is frivolous, but baseball seeks to make frivolity an art form. Let's cut the season down to a reasonable number of games so that individual games actually mean something. I think baseball sucks, so I'd be satisfied with every team playing every other team once and then start the playoffs. Hell, NFL teams go eight years before they go through the rotation and play every other team, and they have the same number of teams.
2. BASEBALL IS NOT A TEAM SPORT. When it comes down to it, the game is a face off between a pitcher and a batter. And most of the fielding team doesn't even move once a ball is put in play. You want to liven the sport up for Ralph Tetta? You want to get me involved? Get rid of the benches, and let the batter's team hang out on the field. Easy out, pop fly? The batter has a guy right there to push the fielder out of the way and prevent him from catching the batter "out." Or, he could catch the ball, and then the batter's team plays a spirited game of "keep away" while the batter rounds the bases. Either way, you've got a sport that's fun to watch and challenging to play. Now that I've chimed in with my plan for improvement, regular baseball sounds like shit, doesn't it? You're god damned right it does.
3. THEY CALL THE CHAMPION SHIP "THE WORLD SERIES." And all the teams are from the United States, unless the Toronto Blue Jays somehow sneak into the playoffs. The only thing "world" about the series is that there are usually a butt-load of South American and Asian guys on the teams, and what does that say about the game when Asian guys are athletic enough to make the team?
4. THE MANAGERS WEAR UNIFORMS. Fucking ridiculous. Granted, it's rooted in tradition when the manager of a team would also be a player, but again, how stupid does some old fat guy look trotting out in pinstripes? It's as out of place as the 14-year-old kid who rings your door at Halloween looking for candy, and it needs to go. And how about updating the look of the uniforms, anyway? A baseball team looks like a busload of douche bags in their pajamas...they're not on their way to a physical contest, it's nap time.
5. THE ALL-STAR GAME IS PLAYED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SEASON. Not to be disparaging, but is that really fair to all the players? A guy who's picked as an "all-star" could shit the bed in the second half, or a rookie player could hit his stride and start streaking after being passed over. Fuck if we're gonna be so nonchalant about the placement of the All-Star game, play the fucking thing in the winter. During Christmas week, when everyone's out of town for the holidays.
6. DOUBLE HEADERS. Let's face it, if you can play two games in a day, it's not even physically strenuous enough to be called a sport. And what happens when your team wins one and loses the other? What are you supposed to do, celebrate and mope?
Baseball appeals to people who like statistics. You know who else likes numbers that much? Accountants. And everyone knows what a bag of laughs they are. Baseball is an out-of-date system that we keep in place for some misguided traditionalism, like the Electoral College. It has no place in society, and takes more than it gives. Congress actually got side-tracked from dealing with real issues like war and the economy to try and figure out if players had used steroids or not. I demand a recount.
Baseball is light on action. If you want to play up the strategy aspect of the game, here's a one-word rebuttal.....chess. My amplified answer is "Chess, motherfucker." During an NFL contest, every player on the field is in motion. During an NBA or NHL contest, every player is in motion until the period is over. In baseball, there's a lot of standing around.....talking......and scratching. Sometimes, the manager and the catcher take a stroll out to the mound for a sidebar. YAWN.
Some of the teams are named after laundry. The Boston Red Sox? You do realize that this nick-name is only one generation removed from calling themselves the Boston White-Striped Boxer-Briefs. Lame, lame, and more lame.
In closing, I will offer one positive observation about baseball, just so you baseball lovers won't think I'm all bad. Baseball has provided people like me who don't like guns an alternate form of home security in the baseball bat. It's way more effective than trying to chase off home invaders with a hockey stick or a ping-pong paddle.
Play ball.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester (Red Wings), NY
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Everyday I Write The Book (Elvis Costello)
It's funny how things change. Mostly, change comes gradually...you don't notice it because it's a small change each day, but then months or years down the road, you compare whatever it is that changed to the way it used to be, and it's a drastic difference.
Want proof? Look at your high school graduation photo, and then look in the mirror. I'll wait.
Big difference, huh? Unless you're Michael J. Fox, who for some reason is holding on pretty well.
I mention change because I've certainly changed. I used to blog about three times a week, and now I finally get a chance to sit down and write, and I look at the date of my last entry, and it's been two weeks. The way it feels, it might as well be a lifetime.
I'm always on the fence about what I should write. The least interesting types of blogs, my friend Ward told me today, are the "road diary" types of blogs (what I had for lunch, where I'm playing this week, how the crowds were, etc.) and the current events, political or philosophical blogs.
Unfortunately, those are the two big guns in my arsenal.
When I do write something funny, I try to record it as a podcast and post it on my primary website, www.ralphtetta.com. As my webmaster Bruce would tell you, I'm sporadic at best at generating new material, and to be more honest about it, piss-poor. I've written one thing this YEAR. That blows.
I'm writing a book about standup comedy. I have a great deal of it already finished, but I showed it around to a bunch of fledgling comics for their feedback, and got lots of great ideas about things that should be added and amplified. I've hoped to use some of my down-time to get the writing done, but there's always something cool on TV, or the internet, or one of the books I brought to read, the complimentary USA today from the hotel, or just a nap.
I have an idea for a CD full of "radio plays" that I think would be great fun to record. Basically, a comedy album full of sketches that include audio only. I've written one sketch, and figure I need between nine and twelve more. That project is dry-docked until I can get off my ass.
My discipline is for shit.
I've become the most useless person I could possibly be; I'm a writer who doesn't write.
I've gotten accolades in the past for my writing abilities; now I'm resting on my laurels. I need a kick in the ass to get going again, and I just don't know how to do it. I've been keeping plenty busy with the college tour, and I've got Easter week off, but I can tell you right now what's going to happen; I'm going to get home from New Mexico, and I'm going to decompress and spend time with my family who will be hogging my time because they haven't seen me in a month. Then I'm hitting the road again for about three weeks. Hopefully I can shake out some of the dust, but lately I just feel unmotivated. I'm actually only writing this blog to get the juices flowing.
I wish it was just writer's block. I can beat that. I've learned all the tricks. I'm just dodging the task at hand with other bullshit pursuits. The upside is that I've consumed so much news, I'm an expert at most anything going on in the world today. Go ahead, try me.
O.K. I think I've indulged in enough self-flagellation for one day. Maybe I can get some work done now. I'll check in from time to time and tell you how it's going.
Crap. "Family Guy" is on.....
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Want proof? Look at your high school graduation photo, and then look in the mirror. I'll wait.
Big difference, huh? Unless you're Michael J. Fox, who for some reason is holding on pretty well.
I mention change because I've certainly changed. I used to blog about three times a week, and now I finally get a chance to sit down and write, and I look at the date of my last entry, and it's been two weeks. The way it feels, it might as well be a lifetime.
I'm always on the fence about what I should write. The least interesting types of blogs, my friend Ward told me today, are the "road diary" types of blogs (what I had for lunch, where I'm playing this week, how the crowds were, etc.) and the current events, political or philosophical blogs.
Unfortunately, those are the two big guns in my arsenal.
When I do write something funny, I try to record it as a podcast and post it on my primary website, www.ralphtetta.com. As my webmaster Bruce would tell you, I'm sporadic at best at generating new material, and to be more honest about it, piss-poor. I've written one thing this YEAR. That blows.
I'm writing a book about standup comedy. I have a great deal of it already finished, but I showed it around to a bunch of fledgling comics for their feedback, and got lots of great ideas about things that should be added and amplified. I've hoped to use some of my down-time to get the writing done, but there's always something cool on TV, or the internet, or one of the books I brought to read, the complimentary USA today from the hotel, or just a nap.
I have an idea for a CD full of "radio plays" that I think would be great fun to record. Basically, a comedy album full of sketches that include audio only. I've written one sketch, and figure I need between nine and twelve more. That project is dry-docked until I can get off my ass.
My discipline is for shit.
I've become the most useless person I could possibly be; I'm a writer who doesn't write.
I've gotten accolades in the past for my writing abilities; now I'm resting on my laurels. I need a kick in the ass to get going again, and I just don't know how to do it. I've been keeping plenty busy with the college tour, and I've got Easter week off, but I can tell you right now what's going to happen; I'm going to get home from New Mexico, and I'm going to decompress and spend time with my family who will be hogging my time because they haven't seen me in a month. Then I'm hitting the road again for about three weeks. Hopefully I can shake out some of the dust, but lately I just feel unmotivated. I'm actually only writing this blog to get the juices flowing.
I wish it was just writer's block. I can beat that. I've learned all the tricks. I'm just dodging the task at hand with other bullshit pursuits. The upside is that I've consumed so much news, I'm an expert at most anything going on in the world today. Go ahead, try me.
O.K. I think I've indulged in enough self-flagellation for one day. Maybe I can get some work done now. I'll check in from time to time and tell you how it's going.
Crap. "Family Guy" is on.....
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Working On A Dream (Bruce Springsteen)
Thursday, March 19, 2009-11:00 A.M.
Good morning, readers from blogger.com, Facebook, MySpace, and ComedySoapbox. I'm delighted that you chose to take a few minutes to read me and see what's on my mind.
In the past few years that I've been putting fingers to keyboard, I've attempted to chronicle my journey in the world of standup comedy and professional entertainment. At key points in my life, I've deviated from that path to share personal musings, recognize departed family and friends, and discuss current events of interest.
I've always attempted to keep a balance; to provide as much information as possible to give a real look at what my life on the road is like, but not so much that it becomes a boring exercise. Sometimes I manage the task quite handily, and sometimes you read about my roast beef sandwich that I made in my hotel room after a show.
My life has always seemed to have been chopped up into four-year increments; I do something for four years, and then move on. I spent four years in college, four years managing the Comix Cafe, and now toured the country for eight years in the comedy clubs. I guess I enjoyed this part of the ride so much, I did two tours. And now I'm starting what I have to assume is another four-year stint hosting the college game show "Dash For Dollars."
I'm absolutely loving it, and each college that I visit brings a new challenge. Some schools are bigger than others, some are situated in densely populated urban settings, others out in the country among the cornfields. Some colleges provide huge performance venues, others have access to more intimate spaces. I welcome the challenge that each school provides, and work according to the specifications.
The thing that they all have in common is the trust they put in me to provide a great show, and I work very hard to make sure that I deliver on that promise. The students are the stars of the show, not me, and I try not to forget that. I deliver the show with the promise of fair play, sportsmanship, and the idea that a positive attitude will be rewarded, and not just greed. And some audiences are better at accepting that than others. I roll with the punches, do my job and let the chips fall where they may. A roller coaster has to creek slowly up a hill to provide the rush of the plunge down the other side.
The great advantage that this new opportunity has afforded me is that I'm working constantly, doing colleges mostly during the week, and leaving weekends open for club work, which I still enjoy. The disadvantage is that the time I've been allowed to spend at home to reconnect with my family and decompress has shrunk, and made those moments more precious. But a curious side effect has also taken hold, and that is that I'm absorbing even more news now than I used to. There's a great deal of down time on the road, and I've got all the tools at my disposal to absorb a ridiculous amount of information. In the vehicle, I have satellite radio, and now that XM and Sirius have merged, there's about 250 channels to surf through. Every hotel has some sort of cable package, and my laptop provides constant connection to the internet, which I access for what seems like every waking moment. Today, they pushed a USA Today under my door. I literally can't stop the information from flowing.
With all that being said, I come to my point; I finally understand why our economy collapsed. From what I understand, the problem stemmed from the housing market. Banks were writing mortgages at sub-prime rates, which allowed people to purchase homes they couldn't afford. At the same time, housing prices were going through the roof because everyone could basically get the financing they needed to purchase the homes. As demand went up and the supply stayed constant, the price went up; simple economics. Then the banks, knowing that many of these mortgages were going to wind up in foreclosure, went to companies like AIG to insure the loans, which was smart. The problem was that AIG was insuring the loans at a much greater ratio than their actual asset ability to provide. They would then bundle these debts as securities and made them available to investors, and of course, they weren't worth the paper they were printed on because they were unsustainable debts backed by money that just wasn't there.
So when regular working folks who had these mortgages for homes they couldn't possibly afford started defaulting, the banks started collecting on the insurance of these bad mortgages, and the whole house of cards fell down. AIG failed, which meant that the banks holding all of these bad mortgages failed, and the investors who plowed money into AIG lost their investments, which in many cases represented their retirement funds.
There are other factors in play, and I don't have a background in economics so I can't really comment, but it seems that the whole mess is predicated on a few simple factors; first, that Americans couldn't pass up the idea that they could live in a house beyond their means to maintain, and second, that the banks couldn't pass up the profit that they would make writing mortgages far and above the business that they would normally do, and not see it as a risk because they were able to get the loans insured. And there was no regulation going on at any point of the cycle.
People who know me know that I would have no problem laying the blame for this squarely at the feet of the Republican President of the last eight years, but there is essentially no one person who can shoulder the blame. President Calvin Coolidge famously said, "The business of America is business." Capitalism should exist for the purpose of individuals making money, providing a comfortable lifestyle, allowing ones self to raise a family, and to secure a retirement free of worry. The social contract, though, is that money should be earned, and be based on something; usually the sweat of one's brow or the product of a factory or field. That's all there is on the playing field, folks....goods and services. Products and labor. And when we start shifting around air, we blow up a balloon that has no choice but to pop.
But who can blame the financial sector for contriving such a scheme? We don't have goods and services anymore. We allow China to make all of our consumer goods, and we ship our jobs to Mexico and India and anywhere else we can, favoring the 60 cents a day worker over our American minimum wage which stifles a corporation's profitability. So there's nothing left to do but trade in money, and bundled debt disguised as securities. And watch the stock market drop like a rock that moments ago was skipping along the surface of the lake.
We need a way out. The Republicans cry "tax cuts!" but how much of a tax cut could you provide for someone to keep them in their home? To rebuild their shattered nest egg? To allow a company to start hiring workers again and provide them an income with which to start anew? I personally don't think it's possible.
I think the answer is that we have to start making things again. We need to open factories, hire workers here in the United States, and start elevating the middle class...because the middle class is the class that actually consumes the goods.
I don't know the ins-and-outs of farm subsidies, but I do know that there's less food in the world than there are people who need to be fed. Why are we not producing as much food as possible? Instead of sending cash overseas in the form of foreign aid (which I believe we should be doing, absolutely) why are we not sending boatloads of grain? There are probably factors I'm not considering like spoilage, cost of distribution, etc, but again, I don't claim to be an expert. I'm just a man crying out in the wilderness looking for answers.
Can we start working again? Can we reclaim our American dream?
How about this....health care seems to be on a lot of people's minds, and rightfully so. The state of health care in this country is unsatisfactory by anyone's standards except for perhaps the pharmaceutical manufacturers and insurance agencies. Every doctor I've spoken to (not enough for a sample, but enough to make me say this without hesitancy) is in favor of a single-payer health care system. Preventative medicine seems to be the area in which we particularly lag in this country. And that means that illnesses, ailments and conditions don't get treated until they are in the drastic stages, and they become more difficult to cure. How much do we waste by allowing people to get that sick? And how much does overall production suffer due to lost time on the job by workers who are out sick? Has anyone calculated that cost?
And of course, all of this speculation falls on the shoulders of one man; President Obama. I trust President Obama, and I think a lot of Americans do, too. Currently, his popularity is riding around 60%, but even that number is moving downward as impatient Americans look for answers and results. He understands that in order for us to dig our way out of the hole, we need shovels. And right now, the government is in the best position to provide those shovels.
Obama's plan at this point seems to be a carbon copy of Franklin Roosevelt's plan, to start building infrastructure (which to be fair, we do need) and creating jobs. We almost need a Marshall plan to rebuild America much as Japan was rebuilt after World War II. There are critics of Obama's plan, to be sure, and the rhetoric seems to center around the idea that "You can't spend your way out of a recession." The criticism shrivels a bit when you change the word "spend" into the word "invest." Building safe bridges, levies, dams, roads and highways is an expenditure, to be sure, but it is an investment. Just as having up-to-date schools to educate and train the next generation of Americans is also an expenditure, it is no less an investment.
My father lived through the Great Depression, and now it looks as though I'll get the opportunity to do the same. And I've decided that perhaps this is something that America needs right now. In times of trouble, we pull together and help each other, we share what we have and we lift each other up. We speak more softly and we listen a little more carefully, because we're all in this together. And we embody the great American spirit that all things are possible if we stick together, join hands, contribute our talents to the pool and push in the same direction.
We need hope, not despair. We need to roll up our sleeves and start working again. And we need each other.
There is an old English proverb that goes like this; "Fear knocked at the door and Faith answered, and lo, no one was there."
Have faith in God, each other, and yourself. We can do this. And if you know someone who needs encouragement, please send this along as a text or a link.
Let's get to work.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Good morning, readers from blogger.com, Facebook, MySpace, and ComedySoapbox. I'm delighted that you chose to take a few minutes to read me and see what's on my mind.
In the past few years that I've been putting fingers to keyboard, I've attempted to chronicle my journey in the world of standup comedy and professional entertainment. At key points in my life, I've deviated from that path to share personal musings, recognize departed family and friends, and discuss current events of interest.
I've always attempted to keep a balance; to provide as much information as possible to give a real look at what my life on the road is like, but not so much that it becomes a boring exercise. Sometimes I manage the task quite handily, and sometimes you read about my roast beef sandwich that I made in my hotel room after a show.
My life has always seemed to have been chopped up into four-year increments; I do something for four years, and then move on. I spent four years in college, four years managing the Comix Cafe, and now toured the country for eight years in the comedy clubs. I guess I enjoyed this part of the ride so much, I did two tours. And now I'm starting what I have to assume is another four-year stint hosting the college game show "Dash For Dollars."
I'm absolutely loving it, and each college that I visit brings a new challenge. Some schools are bigger than others, some are situated in densely populated urban settings, others out in the country among the cornfields. Some colleges provide huge performance venues, others have access to more intimate spaces. I welcome the challenge that each school provides, and work according to the specifications.
The thing that they all have in common is the trust they put in me to provide a great show, and I work very hard to make sure that I deliver on that promise. The students are the stars of the show, not me, and I try not to forget that. I deliver the show with the promise of fair play, sportsmanship, and the idea that a positive attitude will be rewarded, and not just greed. And some audiences are better at accepting that than others. I roll with the punches, do my job and let the chips fall where they may. A roller coaster has to creek slowly up a hill to provide the rush of the plunge down the other side.
The great advantage that this new opportunity has afforded me is that I'm working constantly, doing colleges mostly during the week, and leaving weekends open for club work, which I still enjoy. The disadvantage is that the time I've been allowed to spend at home to reconnect with my family and decompress has shrunk, and made those moments more precious. But a curious side effect has also taken hold, and that is that I'm absorbing even more news now than I used to. There's a great deal of down time on the road, and I've got all the tools at my disposal to absorb a ridiculous amount of information. In the vehicle, I have satellite radio, and now that XM and Sirius have merged, there's about 250 channels to surf through. Every hotel has some sort of cable package, and my laptop provides constant connection to the internet, which I access for what seems like every waking moment. Today, they pushed a USA Today under my door. I literally can't stop the information from flowing.
With all that being said, I come to my point; I finally understand why our economy collapsed. From what I understand, the problem stemmed from the housing market. Banks were writing mortgages at sub-prime rates, which allowed people to purchase homes they couldn't afford. At the same time, housing prices were going through the roof because everyone could basically get the financing they needed to purchase the homes. As demand went up and the supply stayed constant, the price went up; simple economics. Then the banks, knowing that many of these mortgages were going to wind up in foreclosure, went to companies like AIG to insure the loans, which was smart. The problem was that AIG was insuring the loans at a much greater ratio than their actual asset ability to provide. They would then bundle these debts as securities and made them available to investors, and of course, they weren't worth the paper they were printed on because they were unsustainable debts backed by money that just wasn't there.
So when regular working folks who had these mortgages for homes they couldn't possibly afford started defaulting, the banks started collecting on the insurance of these bad mortgages, and the whole house of cards fell down. AIG failed, which meant that the banks holding all of these bad mortgages failed, and the investors who plowed money into AIG lost their investments, which in many cases represented their retirement funds.
There are other factors in play, and I don't have a background in economics so I can't really comment, but it seems that the whole mess is predicated on a few simple factors; first, that Americans couldn't pass up the idea that they could live in a house beyond their means to maintain, and second, that the banks couldn't pass up the profit that they would make writing mortgages far and above the business that they would normally do, and not see it as a risk because they were able to get the loans insured. And there was no regulation going on at any point of the cycle.
People who know me know that I would have no problem laying the blame for this squarely at the feet of the Republican President of the last eight years, but there is essentially no one person who can shoulder the blame. President Calvin Coolidge famously said, "The business of America is business." Capitalism should exist for the purpose of individuals making money, providing a comfortable lifestyle, allowing ones self to raise a family, and to secure a retirement free of worry. The social contract, though, is that money should be earned, and be based on something; usually the sweat of one's brow or the product of a factory or field. That's all there is on the playing field, folks....goods and services. Products and labor. And when we start shifting around air, we blow up a balloon that has no choice but to pop.
But who can blame the financial sector for contriving such a scheme? We don't have goods and services anymore. We allow China to make all of our consumer goods, and we ship our jobs to Mexico and India and anywhere else we can, favoring the 60 cents a day worker over our American minimum wage which stifles a corporation's profitability. So there's nothing left to do but trade in money, and bundled debt disguised as securities. And watch the stock market drop like a rock that moments ago was skipping along the surface of the lake.
We need a way out. The Republicans cry "tax cuts!" but how much of a tax cut could you provide for someone to keep them in their home? To rebuild their shattered nest egg? To allow a company to start hiring workers again and provide them an income with which to start anew? I personally don't think it's possible.
I think the answer is that we have to start making things again. We need to open factories, hire workers here in the United States, and start elevating the middle class...because the middle class is the class that actually consumes the goods.
I don't know the ins-and-outs of farm subsidies, but I do know that there's less food in the world than there are people who need to be fed. Why are we not producing as much food as possible? Instead of sending cash overseas in the form of foreign aid (which I believe we should be doing, absolutely) why are we not sending boatloads of grain? There are probably factors I'm not considering like spoilage, cost of distribution, etc, but again, I don't claim to be an expert. I'm just a man crying out in the wilderness looking for answers.
Can we start working again? Can we reclaim our American dream?
How about this....health care seems to be on a lot of people's minds, and rightfully so. The state of health care in this country is unsatisfactory by anyone's standards except for perhaps the pharmaceutical manufacturers and insurance agencies. Every doctor I've spoken to (not enough for a sample, but enough to make me say this without hesitancy) is in favor of a single-payer health care system. Preventative medicine seems to be the area in which we particularly lag in this country. And that means that illnesses, ailments and conditions don't get treated until they are in the drastic stages, and they become more difficult to cure. How much do we waste by allowing people to get that sick? And how much does overall production suffer due to lost time on the job by workers who are out sick? Has anyone calculated that cost?
And of course, all of this speculation falls on the shoulders of one man; President Obama. I trust President Obama, and I think a lot of Americans do, too. Currently, his popularity is riding around 60%, but even that number is moving downward as impatient Americans look for answers and results. He understands that in order for us to dig our way out of the hole, we need shovels. And right now, the government is in the best position to provide those shovels.
Obama's plan at this point seems to be a carbon copy of Franklin Roosevelt's plan, to start building infrastructure (which to be fair, we do need) and creating jobs. We almost need a Marshall plan to rebuild America much as Japan was rebuilt after World War II. There are critics of Obama's plan, to be sure, and the rhetoric seems to center around the idea that "You can't spend your way out of a recession." The criticism shrivels a bit when you change the word "spend" into the word "invest." Building safe bridges, levies, dams, roads and highways is an expenditure, to be sure, but it is an investment. Just as having up-to-date schools to educate and train the next generation of Americans is also an expenditure, it is no less an investment.
My father lived through the Great Depression, and now it looks as though I'll get the opportunity to do the same. And I've decided that perhaps this is something that America needs right now. In times of trouble, we pull together and help each other, we share what we have and we lift each other up. We speak more softly and we listen a little more carefully, because we're all in this together. And we embody the great American spirit that all things are possible if we stick together, join hands, contribute our talents to the pool and push in the same direction.
We need hope, not despair. We need to roll up our sleeves and start working again. And we need each other.
There is an old English proverb that goes like this; "Fear knocked at the door and Faith answered, and lo, no one was there."
Have faith in God, each other, and yourself. We can do this. And if you know someone who needs encouragement, please send this along as a text or a link.
Let's get to work.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
Saturday, March 7, 2009
This Land Is Your Land (Woody Guthrie)
Not to over dramatize, but I woke up this morning feeling like a gunfighter who had to shoot 50 cowboys the night before.
I'm in Canton, NY, the home of SUNY Canton, and the first return engagement of the Dash For Dollars Comedy Game Show in my tenure as host.
When last I checked in, I was heading towards Warwick, Rhode Island and the Comedy Zone at the Showcase Cinemas. The drive from Rutland, Vermont wasn't very long, but it did take me through Boston. I think sometimes that directions provided by a GPS system or calculated by Mapquest, RandMcNally.com or some other service, are not the best directions because even though they calculate the directions as being the fastest or shortest routes, they don't take into account the rush hour traffic (or even general daytime congestion) that can occur in major metropolitan areas. As soon as I noticed that the GPS was sending me to Boston, I gritted my teeth, but kept on going because it was early afternoon and I figured I'd catch a break.
Well, as it turned out, I did catch a break and even though there was a slowdown or two, I wound up making it into Rhode Island with plenty of time to spare. I checked in to the hotel and didn't see many cars, but the hotel was full; that's because there was a college women's basketball tournament going on, and everyone had arrived on a single bus. And the whole time I'm sitting there thinking, "I'm in a hotel filled with female college basketball players, why didn't this shit ever happen when I was single?" Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, but her turnaround-jumper is for shit. Ha ha, just kidding, I love you honey, stop hitting me.
I was working at the Comedy Zone with fellow road dog Mutzie from New Orleans, Louisiana. Mutzie and I work a lot together, and I think that's part and parcel of the Comedy Zone's faith in us to deliver a great show. The room at the Showcase Cinemas was a new endeavor, and even though there had been comedy done in movie theaters before (Buffalo had the famous Como 8 comedy night, lovingly re-named the "Coma 8" by disenchanted Western New York comics for the less-than stellar turnouts and reactions from the sparse audiences), but this was a whole different animal. The Showcase Cinemas had literally turned one of their 16 screening rooms into a real comedy club, complete with tables down in the front, a great stage, beautiful sound and lighting, a full restaurant menu (not just popcorn, but they had that, too), and a liquor license! They really did the place up nice, and it was a joy to perform there. They had printed up really nice lobby cards, those big posters that you see in theaters that specialize in live theater, plays and stuff like that, and there in glorious color was my new headshot! After the weekend was over, the cards were going to be discarded in favor of the next week's performers, so Mutzie and I grabbed one each for a souvenir. It was really a great weekend, with plenty of folks coming in, many for the first time, and I think Mutzie and I made a good impression on them.
During the day on Saturday I did the road comic thing, getting up early to grab the complimentary continental breakfast and then doing laundry, and napping because I knew that Sunday morning I was going to need to beat some weather. A big snowstorm was coming, and I had one day to drive to my next game show date in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I got up early enough on Sunday to get coffee, jump in the van, and get out of town before the first snowflakes could hit the ground. I will compress the next 13 hours into as small a space as possible; I drove to Indiana, stopped for gas several times and also to use the bathroom, talked on the phone, listened to talk radio, and tried not to let the uninteresting terrain of Pennsylvania and Ohio hypnotize me into driving off of the road. When I reached the hotel in Fort Wayne, I was exhausted. Even though it's just driving in a van, it's pretty tough work, especially if you're sharing the road with truckers jacked up on coffee, energy drinks, truck stop amphetamines (caffeine pills, my ass) and deadlines with delivery incentives.
I got about 6 hours of sleep and woke up the next morning, not completely sure exactly where I was. Luckily, the Student Activities director at the college called my cell phone and I snapped back to current reality. My venue had been changed at the college, so I got up and bee-lined for the proposed area. There were some difficulties, as in, the cash booth that is the center piece of my game show didn't fit into the building I was assigned to do the show. I had been warned to expect this sort of thing and prepare in advance, so I used my vast improvisational skills to figure out how to do the show without it, and even though it was a small turnout, we had a great time, the students loved the show, and I got out of there with a feeling of job satisfaction that I had done the best job I could. In retrospect, it was good thing that I didn't have to load in the cash booth, because the standard rider on the college contract is that the school provides help to load the unit in. The single person who was assigned to me was a pregnant secretary. She was helpful, but that wasn't the "two helpers" I was expecting. Pre-natal volunteers rarely carry their own weight in such circumstances, as said weight is in the single digits.
After the show it was back east to Cleveland, Ohio, where I did a very exciting show at Cuyahoga Community College in the downtown area. The school was in the general vicinity of the Cleveland Improv comedy club, so I was somewhat familiar with the area. I caught a break in the morning as one of my pre-show duties is to visit a bank and replenish the cash that is necessary to put in the money booth, and broken into the correct increments. You can't just shove any amount of money you want in there, it has to be $500 and in the proper amount of bills. The hotel had a cash machine in their lobby, and after chatting with the folks at the desk, they told me that they were both willing and able to break the $20 bills that the ATM would provide into the bills that I would need. It saved me a trip, and I used the time savings to relax with the paper, some coffee, and a hot bowl of oatmeal (always working on my cholesterol, I am).
The real fun of the week was to happen the next day, in Middletown, Ohio, home of the Middletown campus of Miami of Ohio University. I got to the hotel just a little before 7 in the evening, in time to enjoy the manager's reception in the lobby, which garnered me free nachos. I put together a bowl with some nice hot cheese sauce (I somehow always undermine my efforts to work on my cholesterol) and retired to my room to enjoy movies on HBO and an early night's sleep. The next morning, I was up with the birds and ready to start my day.
I headed down to the breakfast area to put together a plate with some eggs, sausage, and a nice bowl of oatmeal. I grabbed some coffee and skim milk and set myself up at a table facing the wide-screen television in the breakfast room. I was enjoying my breakfast and the local newscast, when an older gentleman, probably in his 50's, sat down at the table next to me with his plate.
This gentleman had put together a huge amount of food, eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and it was all chopped up together into a big mound. He was a portly type, with a clean flannel shirt, tucked into his jeans, and wearing a pair of wide suspenders. He had a bald head, but a big white beard that made me think of Santa Claus for some reason. He looked like a blue-collar type, and for some reason, I figured he was an electrician or something. The table he chose was parallel to mine, and he was facing the TV, and literally was no farther away from me than a foot. The tables in the breakfast area were quite close together.
After he put his plate down, he got up and changed the station on the TV, which immediately pissed me off. Shared television etiquette dictates that you can't just change the station without asking if anyone else was watching the program that was on (which I was), and also first-come, first-served comes into play as well. And to make matters worse? This son-of-a-bitch put on FOX NEWS. So now I am doubly pissed....he jumped the TV for his own purpose, fuck everyone else who was there first, and he's a right-wing conservative. I sat there and stewed in my own anger, because I never would have just assumed that I could switch off the local news and choose some left-leaning program that I would have liked, I would always have some sort of sense of decorum for those in the room that wouldn't enjoy such programming.
So I'm sitting there hating this contemptuous individual, and a lady in a sports jacket comes over and addresses him. "Sir, are you a hotel guest?"
And there's a pause. I know immediately that he's not a guest, and he just snuck in to cadge the free breakfast.
"I'm with (inaudible) up in room (inaudible)." He's sitting right next to me, I'm right there in the middle of this, and even though I know this guy's getting his comeuppance, I'm uncomfortable.
"Sir, the breakfast is a courtesy for our hotel guests. You can't help yourself AND YOU'VE BEEN TOLD THIS BEFORE." The son-of-a-bitch has done it before! I'm delighting in the embarrassment of the situation. I try not to smirk, finish my coffee and get the hell out of there.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and try to draw some parallel between people who watch Fox News and people who steal complimentary hotel breakfasts that they're not entitled to. But it's interesting, is it not, that this cat did what he did? He wandered in from off the street (and if he's done this before, he's a local resident), helped himself to some food he had no intention of paying for, commandeered the television set to his own liking, and sat there with no qualms.
It seems like a sense of entitlement to me. It seems like (at it's worst) THEFT. Conversion for personal gain. And this sense of entitlement, from a man who I assume because of his choice of Fox News, a conservative-leaning programmer, would rail against such things as the cost of this entitlement lays squarely on the backs of the people who PAY for lodging in the hotel. So much for individual achievement, huh? So much for the rejection of entitlements, Socialist ideas, the idea that everyone should be fed and cared for.
Coincidentally, there were some folks milling around in the breakfast area earlier, before Mr. Suspenders showed up, and they were speaking German, which I don't speak. But there is a German word, and you may have heard of it, known as Schadenfreude. Translated, this word means secretly delighting in the misfortune of others. I confess that I felt this as I made my way to the elevator, that this man who I don't like was found out to be a thief, a hypocrite, and was told off by the hotel staff. My show was fine, and there was an eight-hour drive home, and I whistled all the way.
I mentioned the story to my mother-in-law the next day, and she postulated that maybe the guy was homeless. Maybe he couldn't afford food. In truth, he was too clean and well groomed to make me think that he was indigent in any way, but that begs another question; why would a homeless guy be watching Fox News? The Right's whole shtick seems to be that if you're down on your luck, it's because you didn't work hard enough, and giving you a handout is hurting you because it will take away your impetus to work harder and do better for yourself.
It's hogwash, by the way. It assumes that everyone has equal access to the tools of success, and there's no such thing as bad luck. Tell it to someone who has a child with a catastrophic illness, a birth defect, a special need. Tell it to someone who just isn't mathematically inclined and gets enough B's on their high school transcript that they aren't eligible for an academic scholarship, but their family is also too well off to qualify for a needs-based scholarship. Tell it to someone who for a million different reasons, falls through the cracks and works as hard as they can, but still wind up with a bare-bones subsistence life.
Boy, wouldn't it be great if it were different? We could all afford our own eggs and sausage. We wouldn't worry about someone taking the toast off of our plate. "Why should I share my breakfast with that guy? I earned this breakfast. Tell him to get a job."
My breakfast was provided by the hotel, and the hotel room was paid for by the college I was performing at that day, as a part of my compensation. I worked for my breakfast. And here's the worst part of the story....if Mr. Suspenders was truly in need, truly hungry, homeless, down on his luck, his wife's in the hospital with breast cancer and her illness has drained their savings down to the last dime he had to spend on breakfast, if he had come up to me with any of those stories, I would have given him my breakfast. Regardless of his choice of television shows. I would have made up a plate for him, chopped up the sausage and eggs, put the gravy on, and sat with him outside in my van, heat blowing, while he ate his breakfast.
Because I love people. I hate to see people hurting. I hate to see them go without, to be down, to feel like no one's on their side. It's why I'm a Liberal. If I have ten dollars and you have nothing, then the truth is we both have five dollars and we're eating at Subway. And next week, maybe you'll have ten dollars and I'll be broke, but it won't matter because you'll honor our social compact and we'll be at Subway, having a sandwich and enjoying the feeling that says we're not alone today. It's why we live in cities, close to each other. It's why we have Neighborhood Watch (Socialist idea), neighborhood schools (Socialist idea), why we go to church together (Socialist, Socialist, Socialist) and donate to charities, and build playgrounds and let our children play together and why we work together. We are not alone. We don't rise and fall based on our own merits. We need each other.
Don't let anyone tell you different.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
I'm in Canton, NY, the home of SUNY Canton, and the first return engagement of the Dash For Dollars Comedy Game Show in my tenure as host.
When last I checked in, I was heading towards Warwick, Rhode Island and the Comedy Zone at the Showcase Cinemas. The drive from Rutland, Vermont wasn't very long, but it did take me through Boston. I think sometimes that directions provided by a GPS system or calculated by Mapquest, RandMcNally.com or some other service, are not the best directions because even though they calculate the directions as being the fastest or shortest routes, they don't take into account the rush hour traffic (or even general daytime congestion) that can occur in major metropolitan areas. As soon as I noticed that the GPS was sending me to Boston, I gritted my teeth, but kept on going because it was early afternoon and I figured I'd catch a break.
Well, as it turned out, I did catch a break and even though there was a slowdown or two, I wound up making it into Rhode Island with plenty of time to spare. I checked in to the hotel and didn't see many cars, but the hotel was full; that's because there was a college women's basketball tournament going on, and everyone had arrived on a single bus. And the whole time I'm sitting there thinking, "I'm in a hotel filled with female college basketball players, why didn't this shit ever happen when I was single?" Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, but her turnaround-jumper is for shit. Ha ha, just kidding, I love you honey, stop hitting me.
I was working at the Comedy Zone with fellow road dog Mutzie from New Orleans, Louisiana. Mutzie and I work a lot together, and I think that's part and parcel of the Comedy Zone's faith in us to deliver a great show. The room at the Showcase Cinemas was a new endeavor, and even though there had been comedy done in movie theaters before (Buffalo had the famous Como 8 comedy night, lovingly re-named the "Coma 8" by disenchanted Western New York comics for the less-than stellar turnouts and reactions from the sparse audiences), but this was a whole different animal. The Showcase Cinemas had literally turned one of their 16 screening rooms into a real comedy club, complete with tables down in the front, a great stage, beautiful sound and lighting, a full restaurant menu (not just popcorn, but they had that, too), and a liquor license! They really did the place up nice, and it was a joy to perform there. They had printed up really nice lobby cards, those big posters that you see in theaters that specialize in live theater, plays and stuff like that, and there in glorious color was my new headshot! After the weekend was over, the cards were going to be discarded in favor of the next week's performers, so Mutzie and I grabbed one each for a souvenir. It was really a great weekend, with plenty of folks coming in, many for the first time, and I think Mutzie and I made a good impression on them.
During the day on Saturday I did the road comic thing, getting up early to grab the complimentary continental breakfast and then doing laundry, and napping because I knew that Sunday morning I was going to need to beat some weather. A big snowstorm was coming, and I had one day to drive to my next game show date in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I got up early enough on Sunday to get coffee, jump in the van, and get out of town before the first snowflakes could hit the ground. I will compress the next 13 hours into as small a space as possible; I drove to Indiana, stopped for gas several times and also to use the bathroom, talked on the phone, listened to talk radio, and tried not to let the uninteresting terrain of Pennsylvania and Ohio hypnotize me into driving off of the road. When I reached the hotel in Fort Wayne, I was exhausted. Even though it's just driving in a van, it's pretty tough work, especially if you're sharing the road with truckers jacked up on coffee, energy drinks, truck stop amphetamines (caffeine pills, my ass) and deadlines with delivery incentives.
I got about 6 hours of sleep and woke up the next morning, not completely sure exactly where I was. Luckily, the Student Activities director at the college called my cell phone and I snapped back to current reality. My venue had been changed at the college, so I got up and bee-lined for the proposed area. There were some difficulties, as in, the cash booth that is the center piece of my game show didn't fit into the building I was assigned to do the show. I had been warned to expect this sort of thing and prepare in advance, so I used my vast improvisational skills to figure out how to do the show without it, and even though it was a small turnout, we had a great time, the students loved the show, and I got out of there with a feeling of job satisfaction that I had done the best job I could. In retrospect, it was good thing that I didn't have to load in the cash booth, because the standard rider on the college contract is that the school provides help to load the unit in. The single person who was assigned to me was a pregnant secretary. She was helpful, but that wasn't the "two helpers" I was expecting. Pre-natal volunteers rarely carry their own weight in such circumstances, as said weight is in the single digits.
After the show it was back east to Cleveland, Ohio, where I did a very exciting show at Cuyahoga Community College in the downtown area. The school was in the general vicinity of the Cleveland Improv comedy club, so I was somewhat familiar with the area. I caught a break in the morning as one of my pre-show duties is to visit a bank and replenish the cash that is necessary to put in the money booth, and broken into the correct increments. You can't just shove any amount of money you want in there, it has to be $500 and in the proper amount of bills. The hotel had a cash machine in their lobby, and after chatting with the folks at the desk, they told me that they were both willing and able to break the $20 bills that the ATM would provide into the bills that I would need. It saved me a trip, and I used the time savings to relax with the paper, some coffee, and a hot bowl of oatmeal (always working on my cholesterol, I am).
The real fun of the week was to happen the next day, in Middletown, Ohio, home of the Middletown campus of Miami of Ohio University. I got to the hotel just a little before 7 in the evening, in time to enjoy the manager's reception in the lobby, which garnered me free nachos. I put together a bowl with some nice hot cheese sauce (I somehow always undermine my efforts to work on my cholesterol) and retired to my room to enjoy movies on HBO and an early night's sleep. The next morning, I was up with the birds and ready to start my day.
I headed down to the breakfast area to put together a plate with some eggs, sausage, and a nice bowl of oatmeal. I grabbed some coffee and skim milk and set myself up at a table facing the wide-screen television in the breakfast room. I was enjoying my breakfast and the local newscast, when an older gentleman, probably in his 50's, sat down at the table next to me with his plate.
This gentleman had put together a huge amount of food, eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and it was all chopped up together into a big mound. He was a portly type, with a clean flannel shirt, tucked into his jeans, and wearing a pair of wide suspenders. He had a bald head, but a big white beard that made me think of Santa Claus for some reason. He looked like a blue-collar type, and for some reason, I figured he was an electrician or something. The table he chose was parallel to mine, and he was facing the TV, and literally was no farther away from me than a foot. The tables in the breakfast area were quite close together.
After he put his plate down, he got up and changed the station on the TV, which immediately pissed me off. Shared television etiquette dictates that you can't just change the station without asking if anyone else was watching the program that was on (which I was), and also first-come, first-served comes into play as well. And to make matters worse? This son-of-a-bitch put on FOX NEWS. So now I am doubly pissed....he jumped the TV for his own purpose, fuck everyone else who was there first, and he's a right-wing conservative. I sat there and stewed in my own anger, because I never would have just assumed that I could switch off the local news and choose some left-leaning program that I would have liked, I would always have some sort of sense of decorum for those in the room that wouldn't enjoy such programming.
So I'm sitting there hating this contemptuous individual, and a lady in a sports jacket comes over and addresses him. "Sir, are you a hotel guest?"
And there's a pause. I know immediately that he's not a guest, and he just snuck in to cadge the free breakfast.
"I'm with (inaudible) up in room (inaudible)." He's sitting right next to me, I'm right there in the middle of this, and even though I know this guy's getting his comeuppance, I'm uncomfortable.
"Sir, the breakfast is a courtesy for our hotel guests. You can't help yourself AND YOU'VE BEEN TOLD THIS BEFORE." The son-of-a-bitch has done it before! I'm delighting in the embarrassment of the situation. I try not to smirk, finish my coffee and get the hell out of there.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and try to draw some parallel between people who watch Fox News and people who steal complimentary hotel breakfasts that they're not entitled to. But it's interesting, is it not, that this cat did what he did? He wandered in from off the street (and if he's done this before, he's a local resident), helped himself to some food he had no intention of paying for, commandeered the television set to his own liking, and sat there with no qualms.
It seems like a sense of entitlement to me. It seems like (at it's worst) THEFT. Conversion for personal gain. And this sense of entitlement, from a man who I assume because of his choice of Fox News, a conservative-leaning programmer, would rail against such things as the cost of this entitlement lays squarely on the backs of the people who PAY for lodging in the hotel. So much for individual achievement, huh? So much for the rejection of entitlements, Socialist ideas, the idea that everyone should be fed and cared for.
Coincidentally, there were some folks milling around in the breakfast area earlier, before Mr. Suspenders showed up, and they were speaking German, which I don't speak. But there is a German word, and you may have heard of it, known as Schadenfreude. Translated, this word means secretly delighting in the misfortune of others. I confess that I felt this as I made my way to the elevator, that this man who I don't like was found out to be a thief, a hypocrite, and was told off by the hotel staff. My show was fine, and there was an eight-hour drive home, and I whistled all the way.
I mentioned the story to my mother-in-law the next day, and she postulated that maybe the guy was homeless. Maybe he couldn't afford food. In truth, he was too clean and well groomed to make me think that he was indigent in any way, but that begs another question; why would a homeless guy be watching Fox News? The Right's whole shtick seems to be that if you're down on your luck, it's because you didn't work hard enough, and giving you a handout is hurting you because it will take away your impetus to work harder and do better for yourself.
It's hogwash, by the way. It assumes that everyone has equal access to the tools of success, and there's no such thing as bad luck. Tell it to someone who has a child with a catastrophic illness, a birth defect, a special need. Tell it to someone who just isn't mathematically inclined and gets enough B's on their high school transcript that they aren't eligible for an academic scholarship, but their family is also too well off to qualify for a needs-based scholarship. Tell it to someone who for a million different reasons, falls through the cracks and works as hard as they can, but still wind up with a bare-bones subsistence life.
Boy, wouldn't it be great if it were different? We could all afford our own eggs and sausage. We wouldn't worry about someone taking the toast off of our plate. "Why should I share my breakfast with that guy? I earned this breakfast. Tell him to get a job."
My breakfast was provided by the hotel, and the hotel room was paid for by the college I was performing at that day, as a part of my compensation. I worked for my breakfast. And here's the worst part of the story....if Mr. Suspenders was truly in need, truly hungry, homeless, down on his luck, his wife's in the hospital with breast cancer and her illness has drained their savings down to the last dime he had to spend on breakfast, if he had come up to me with any of those stories, I would have given him my breakfast. Regardless of his choice of television shows. I would have made up a plate for him, chopped up the sausage and eggs, put the gravy on, and sat with him outside in my van, heat blowing, while he ate his breakfast.
Because I love people. I hate to see people hurting. I hate to see them go without, to be down, to feel like no one's on their side. It's why I'm a Liberal. If I have ten dollars and you have nothing, then the truth is we both have five dollars and we're eating at Subway. And next week, maybe you'll have ten dollars and I'll be broke, but it won't matter because you'll honor our social compact and we'll be at Subway, having a sandwich and enjoying the feeling that says we're not alone today. It's why we live in cities, close to each other. It's why we have Neighborhood Watch (Socialist idea), neighborhood schools (Socialist idea), why we go to church together (Socialist, Socialist, Socialist) and donate to charities, and build playgrounds and let our children play together and why we work together. We are not alone. We don't rise and fall based on our own merits. We need each other.
Don't let anyone tell you different.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
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