Splurging in Cleveland...

Today I splurged a little on myself. Usually that means eating at Waffle House or Arby's, but today I woke up 20 miles from Cleveland.

Though I considered it, I didn't go the the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. I refuse to do so until they induct KISS. It's a personal choice, really, but I figure that if they've stooped to inducting Madonna (which they did this year) then KISS should've been in a decade ago.

As a cast member of the Good Beer Show (http://www.goodbeershow.com/,) I was a little bummed that I didn't get to attend Dark Lord Day at Three Floyds Brewing Co. in Munster, IN today. So I treated myself in the nearest, most similar (albeit lacking) fashion. I went to the Great Lakes Brewing Company brewpub.

I paid too much for fish and chips (I had 'em hold the cole slaw...) The tartar sauce was tangy, but I'm not a fan of tartar sauce, so after trying it, I dismissed it. The beer-battered cod was excellent after a decent salting, but quite bland beforehand. The fries were over-seasoned. I know, I'm picky. I come from Indiana, land of the weekly fire-department all-you-can-eat fish fry*. For the $12 I paid, I should've been swimming in fish.

The beer was good (Blackout Stout - a Russian Imperial Stout) though not as sweet or engaging as I've come to expect a Russian Imperial Stout to be. Still, at 9% ABV, it helped take the chill from the overcast skies and breeze coming down Market St.

I also ordered the bread pudding. It's very good--and very, very sweet-- and I'd post a picture of it if I had one. Unfortunately, I was on it like a fat guy on good bread pudding. It didn't have the chance to be photographed. It now only exists in my memories...

It doesn't make up for missing Dark Lord Day, but it made me feel a little better about being a road comic doing a weekend of one-nighters while my wife and kids are away...

*To be honest, I never attended these. My wife did. I didn't really care for fish until after being converted by my wife. But right now, I'd bend her over the fish fry table at the firehouse and eat bread pudding and beer-battered cod off her back while dry-humping her and drinking beer, right there in front of everyone at the fire house. I need to be home more often. That little fantasy is a little more vivid than I expected...

The Wait

I wonder if it will always be like this...

I'm in the hotel room, a couple hours before the gig. Just ate Arby's. Fight Club's on the tube. My wife and kids are hours away by car. I just got a picture on my cell phone of my sons playing.

I visited the venue, and it turns out I'm playing at a small, L-shaped bar. The show is at 10, and I can't set up early. The corner in which I will perform tonight still has tables in it.

I know, in a very specific way, that future success will alter the trappings somewhat, but I wonder if things will be this way in the abstract. Will I always be in a hotel room, alone? Will there always be a movie on hotel-provided cable that I've seen too many times? Will I always find things about the venue to complain about?

I hope not. But in all likelihood...

Playing By Myself

I'm in Gainesville, GA. I just played a show to a room of about 10 people, who wre seated interspersed through a restaraunt and eating, unaware that comedy was to take place. There were about 15 more people in the next room over (the bar.)
The TV's were left on during the show (this was at a sports bar/restaraunt.) Nobody paid anything to get in, and there was no advertisement for comedy whatsoever. The staff even seemed mildly surprised that there was to be a show.
The worst part is, they've been doing comedy like this at this restaraunt for months. Months. Not a couple of weeks, not a month, but four months. They've been relying on people wandering unsuspectingly into a "comedy show" to tell their friends and bring a crowd the next time.
I'd spent the last 4 nights playing a small, newly opened club in a small town in North Carolina. Not all of the shows were well attended (they're working on building an audience, though.)
Sunday night, not counting wait staff and the people performing (it was an open mic) there were only three audience members.
And it was an infinitely better show than tonight's. This was because the people cared that they were there to see comedy. They came to see comedy. They were performed to.
I'm a strong performer, and confident in my abilities. But when I'm put in front of an audience that is completely unsuspecting and totally blindsided by a live comedy performance, I'm just playing by myself onstage.
Sure, I got paid. But I could have been sleeping in my own bed tonight. I could have kissed my son goodnight, snuggled with my wife.
Instead, I'm in a hotel room in Georgia, playing by myself again.