Sad

I'm so absent minded. I forgot (a few entries back) to list Mitch Hedberg as one of my favorite comedians. And now (unless it's some sort of elaborate April Fools hoax) he's dead.
That hurts my feelings. I thought he was great.
Now let's hook that pope up to life support for ten years.
Keep Pope Alive!
Keep Pope Alive!
Just so he knows what it's like to want to be dead (and free from your jail of a body) but not be able to die.
Comedians are better than religious leaders anyday.

Good, bad and lukewarm.

The Woody Allen show is really fun. We've been reviewed by three publications...which an acheivement for a theater company that is generally perceived as an "improv" theater. We got a rave, a lukewarm and a pan. So we're affecting people and that's great. The bad review was from a critic who didn't appreciate all the liberties we took with the play. Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree on that because, as I've mentioned before, we took a dated, once funny, play and gave it what I've been calling "The Chicago Treatment". This particular critic and the paper that this particular critic works for has a bad case of "Second City Syndrome". (I just keep coining phrases.) Second City Synrome is the firm belief that we (Chicago) has something to prove to New York City. We don't. We are the theater and comedy capital of the world (ask Time Magazine and the London Guardian to name a couple). And one of the things we're great at and uniquely qualified to do is exploit the improv and sketch comedy community here in town to find fresh ways of putting shows on.
I think we're doing a totally unique show in a totally unique way. If Shakespeare can be "interpretted" a thousand different ways, why can't Woody Allen? Well, it can and anyone who says differently is short-sighted, snobby and doesn't know what the general public might enjoy.
The people I care about making laugh, they laugh hard. That's the young hip kids and young hip adults. That's the blue collar people who came in off the streets because of the bad review. Apparently the bad review points out some of the things we're doing that real people actually find interesting.
I'm really proud of my theater company, Chemically Imbalanced Comedy. I like the shows we have in the works. I like the direction we're headed. I like the opportunities that it is affording me. I like the people I work with. I enjoy the material we do.
I feel like I'm really in the mix now. We're getting reviewed. We're creating alliances. Building reputation. Getting recognized.
For the record, we are a theater that does COMEDY. That isn't strictly sketch or improv. It isn't strictly theater. For some reason, that idea baffles some and angers others. I was in a band for a while, "Los Shut Up". We were a band and a comedy group. Still to this day (we've been broken up for six months almost now), people say, "I thought you were a band." "We were." And then, "But I thought you were a comedy group." "We were."
Try to do something different and you confuse the easily confused.

Performing, writing, driving more trolleys.

Life is busy but doesn't pay well. The play "God" that I'm in is fun and is going well. The new improv show that we're working on at CIC (www.cicomedy.com) is going to go back into rehearsals after a couple weeks off. I've got a stand up show coming up on Sunday and I'm not prepared nor do I feel that I'll have time to get prepared. I'm back in my Annoyance Theater classes. I also really want to work on brushing up some scripts that I've had on the back burner for a while. Oh, and, of course I have a job.
I ended up cancelling a hosting gig the other night because it was just one more thing without any real reward for doing it. Oh and it was for a guy with a public access show and an idea that he's being revolutionary. That combo kind of turns me off.
So I'm busy. But none of the busy stuff pays.
Someone recently said, "You're kind of slacking on your blog." Well I'm back. I promise to have at least one new blog every other day from here on out.
So here's the most recent trolley story:
I'm driving a trolley for a show at the merchandise mart (you know, the same gig where I saved the world from a drunk driver in a previous blog). It was late in the morning toward the end of the show that I was driving for so there was only one lady on the trolley. Very shortly after the greetings as she got on the trolley, she immediately went into conversation mode. It was an awkward transition.
"Good Morning."
"Good Morning. Welcome aboard. Looks like it's just us."
"That's okay. I've got my own personal trolley."
(We share a fake laugh. Fake sigh. Then, the awkward transition.)
"So...what do you think... of that lady... she's in Florida...and they're trying to decide whether to put her feeding tube back in...?"
Oh, Terry Schiavo. Mystery sentence deciphered. But I still wasn't sure what she was really asking. I wanted to answer, "I don't know. She seems kind of boring. And high maintenance."
But then I realized that she wanted my opinion. She wanted me to tell her whether Terry Schiavo should live or die. Me. The trolley driver. I'm not sure if she realizes this but trolley driver is not an elected position and therefore, I'm not really looked to by many people for my moral judgments.
Also, I understand that you're not supposed to talk about politics or religion in polite company or on a trolley. This lady managed to cross two taboos off with one poorly planned question.
I felt really uncomfortable. I knew what I was thinking but what if I said the opposite of what she wanted me to say? Suddenly there's an argument and that's followed by a phone call to Chris Kennedy who runs the Merchandise Mart and suddenly I'm driving tours of a city where there are no Kennedys.
So I thought about the right thing to say.
"I don't know enough about it." (Even though it was the only thing on t.v. or radio.) "Some people think he tried to kill her. Some people think she did it to herself. I don't know."
Was that vague enough? I hope so. Trolley drivers can't have opinions. That's the rules.