FT. WORTH, TEXAS
When you're a wannabe comedian living in an area where real-live Comedy Clubs don't exist, you pray, you hope, you dream of your first "brickwall" comedy club gig.
A week or so ago, It seemed that my prayers had been answered in the guise of Comedian Brent Dawson. Brent and I met at "Comedy Soapbox" and seemed to get along fine through the magic of the Internet; so when I found out he had a gig in my hometown at a "comedy night" at a local club, I was anxious to meet him and see his act.
At about the same time, Brent had offered me a chance to emcee with him in Ft. Worth along with fellow "soapboxer", Andy Kaufman. This wasn't a "comedy night" gig...I was finally gonna perform in front of the mythical brickwall I had dreamed about; an actual comedy club with "Comedy" in it's name.
So, Brent comes to Mobile, AL, he performs at the club and I have the honor of not only hearing his act and laughing throughout, but also I was scheduled to do a guest spot that night and at the last minute my guest spot turned into an emcee spot.
Unfortunately for me, "emceeing" to 10 people at a club on a slow night in the middle of "Mardi Gras Week" was not the best way I had wanted Brent to see me for the first time. But we weathered it. AND he STILL wanted me to do the gig in Ft. Worth.
So, the next day, I buy some travel size toothpaste, a new shirt, and I even cut my "longish hair" before my trip so as not to scare the Texans.
Friday morning, I leave Mobile, Alabama for a 10 hour drive to Ft. Worth Texas--cell phone, a carton of Marlboros, and a Mapquest print out at my side. The trip is long, boring, tiring and uneventful; except that driving through Monroe, Louisiana should require you to wear a gas mask. The city smells like the entire population got together and decided to fart at the same time.
I arrive an hour outside of Dallas at 4:30PM. This sounds innocuous until you realize that puts me in the middle of Dallas during Friday afternoon rush hour.
Let me just say that white lines, and lane markers seemed to have faded away
on I-635, and the lane shifts suggest the road contractor may have been drunk during the project. No matter. I get behind a semi-truck and snake my way to my destination. At 5:30, traffic is at a crawl on Highway 75.
"Hey Dave, welcome to Texas"
I finally arrive at Brent's apartment and despite the traffic and the trip; I'm still "jazzed". Brent meets me outside in the parking lot. I get out of the car, stretch, and exchanged that usual talk you have with someone after arriving from a long trip.
But, I notice Brent isn't exactly rushing me up the sidewalk to welcome me into his apartment for the weekend. He seems hesitant. Quiet.
He finally says, "The show's been cancelled. The owner says they've begun a remodeling project"
I say out loud, "OOOOOOOOKay. These things happen. Not your fault. I totally understand."
On the inside I scream,
(Shit! Are you fucking kidding me? I just drove ten hours. Now what?)
Brent informs me that he already has a Plan B in motion. He's been online emailing people and on the phone calling people and is looking for a new venue for the Saturday night show. Oh yeah, I finally make it into Brent's apartment and meet his wife, small son and the dog. Brent's wife is cool and the kid is cute.
So, we are talking and Brent's wife suggests we just take a drive to the club and see what kind of re-model project is going on. The club is an hour away, but what the hell, what's one more hour in the car? I'm game. We arrive at the closed club. No re-model project. The club has a notice on the door that the owner has been locked out due to non-payment of rent.
We decide to go ahead and eat at a nearby bar and grill. In the parking lot, Brent see's what he thinks is the dude's car. I inform Brent that I am in a strange town, and do not want to take a cab back to his place and inform his wife he's in jail. Luckily, for all concerned, the car was not the club owner's.
It really does get better the next day.
Brent secures the "Clubhouse" of his apartment complex for Saturday night. The apartment complex belies the term "apartment complex" in that it probably had more residents than the town I grew up in; and the "Clubhouse" was more than ample and comfortable.
Our other comedian never shows. He did arrive in Texas and was informed of the cancellation and the new Plan B; but declines to perform. So, Brent and I welcome the crowd to the "Clubhouse Comedy Club" minus "my brickwall" and Brent welcomes the crowd and informs them that a "Get Dave Home" jar is available for donations and I perform to an appreciative crowd. I even get a nice compliment after the show from a lady who said, "You should have done more!" Isn't "leaving them wanting more" a basic tenet of comedy? That's good and the "Get Dave Home" jar DID get me home with a little to spare.
So, I didn't get my brickwall comedy club, but I did perform with a great comedian, and a new friend and I earned some serious "road comic" cred. Plus, I made them laugh. It might even be safe to say, "I killed." Maybe, I am a comedian, despite the brickwall.
A week or so ago, It seemed that my prayers had been answered in the guise of Comedian Brent Dawson. Brent and I met at "Comedy Soapbox" and seemed to get along fine through the magic of the Internet; so when I found out he had a gig in my hometown at a "comedy night" at a local club, I was anxious to meet him and see his act.
At about the same time, Brent had offered me a chance to emcee with him in Ft. Worth along with fellow "soapboxer", Andy Kaufman. This wasn't a "comedy night" gig...I was finally gonna perform in front of the mythical brickwall I had dreamed about; an actual comedy club with "Comedy" in it's name.
So, Brent comes to Mobile, AL, he performs at the club and I have the honor of not only hearing his act and laughing throughout, but also I was scheduled to do a guest spot that night and at the last minute my guest spot turned into an emcee spot.
Unfortunately for me, "emceeing" to 10 people at a club on a slow night in the middle of "Mardi Gras Week" was not the best way I had wanted Brent to see me for the first time. But we weathered it. AND he STILL wanted me to do the gig in Ft. Worth.
So, the next day, I buy some travel size toothpaste, a new shirt, and I even cut my "longish hair" before my trip so as not to scare the Texans.
Friday morning, I leave Mobile, Alabama for a 10 hour drive to Ft. Worth Texas--cell phone, a carton of Marlboros, and a Mapquest print out at my side. The trip is long, boring, tiring and uneventful; except that driving through Monroe, Louisiana should require you to wear a gas mask. The city smells like the entire population got together and decided to fart at the same time.
I arrive an hour outside of Dallas at 4:30PM. This sounds innocuous until you realize that puts me in the middle of Dallas during Friday afternoon rush hour.
Let me just say that white lines, and lane markers seemed to have faded away
on I-635, and the lane shifts suggest the road contractor may have been drunk during the project. No matter. I get behind a semi-truck and snake my way to my destination. At 5:30, traffic is at a crawl on Highway 75.
"Hey Dave, welcome to Texas"
I finally arrive at Brent's apartment and despite the traffic and the trip; I'm still "jazzed". Brent meets me outside in the parking lot. I get out of the car, stretch, and exchanged that usual talk you have with someone after arriving from a long trip.
But, I notice Brent isn't exactly rushing me up the sidewalk to welcome me into his apartment for the weekend. He seems hesitant. Quiet.
He finally says, "The show's been cancelled. The owner says they've begun a remodeling project"
I say out loud, "OOOOOOOOKay. These things happen. Not your fault. I totally understand."
On the inside I scream,
(Shit! Are you fucking kidding me? I just drove ten hours. Now what?)
Brent informs me that he already has a Plan B in motion. He's been online emailing people and on the phone calling people and is looking for a new venue for the Saturday night show. Oh yeah, I finally make it into Brent's apartment and meet his wife, small son and the dog. Brent's wife is cool and the kid is cute.
So, we are talking and Brent's wife suggests we just take a drive to the club and see what kind of re-model project is going on. The club is an hour away, but what the hell, what's one more hour in the car? I'm game. We arrive at the closed club. No re-model project. The club has a notice on the door that the owner has been locked out due to non-payment of rent.
We decide to go ahead and eat at a nearby bar and grill. In the parking lot, Brent see's what he thinks is the dude's car. I inform Brent that I am in a strange town, and do not want to take a cab back to his place and inform his wife he's in jail. Luckily, for all concerned, the car was not the club owner's.
It really does get better the next day.
Brent secures the "Clubhouse" of his apartment complex for Saturday night. The apartment complex belies the term "apartment complex" in that it probably had more residents than the town I grew up in; and the "Clubhouse" was more than ample and comfortable.
Our other comedian never shows. He did arrive in Texas and was informed of the cancellation and the new Plan B; but declines to perform. So, Brent and I welcome the crowd to the "Clubhouse Comedy Club" minus "my brickwall" and Brent welcomes the crowd and informs them that a "Get Dave Home" jar is available for donations and I perform to an appreciative crowd. I even get a nice compliment after the show from a lady who said, "You should have done more!" Isn't "leaving them wanting more" a basic tenet of comedy? That's good and the "Get Dave Home" jar DID get me home with a little to spare.
So, I didn't get my brickwall comedy club, but I did perform with a great comedian, and a new friend and I earned some serious "road comic" cred. Plus, I made them laugh. It might even be safe to say, "I killed." Maybe, I am a comedian, despite the brickwall.
Labels: Stand-Up Comedy
3 Comments:
OH, Dave! That sounds so fun and adventurous! I really got to hand it to you for taking that step, "brick wall" or no! What a great experience and what a story to build on.
Love! kathleen
David,
Maybe you can create a portable brick wall and set it on an easil? Make it the size of 2' x 3' whiteboard you use for presentations. I know it sounds cheesy, but hey it might get some laughs. After all, you never have seen a comedian bring his own brick wall have you? Hmmmm....
Take care!
Mikey
Hey Dave - long time no...whatever. I stumbled across you here - funny story - stay safe and come back to Texas real soon - you hear?
Kent F.
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