I spent the majority of MLK weekend in Colorado. It was my first time on the slopes in five years and I was terrified about the trip. I wanted to see 34, after all. A toast to the person who invented parabolic skis for engineering my healthy return!
But I’m not going to talk about skiing (even though this was the best, most successful trip I’ve ever had). This is another post about how it pays to be aggressive as a comedian.
I wish I could have listed it. None of you could have come, but it would have been cool to write in the gigs box:
Friday, January 14 @ 10:30PMOn Thursday, after my first day on the slopes, dehydrated, sore, with an altitude-induced pounding headache and prematurely drunk from an ill-advised slug of apres ski whiskey - I asked our waiter (who served me the ill-advised drinks) if he knew about any open mics in town. Even delirious, I was thinking about stage time. He told me about three places that had open mics or live music and seemed particularly high on Buckets.
@Buckets Saloon and Laundromat (Winter Park).
I stopped by to check out the place and try and finagle my way on stage. The stage wasn’t elevated, but there was plenty of space. The audio system was great: well positioned speakers and (for the musicians that care about this sort of thing) a monitor. Two pool tables and a separate arcade that included pinball. Space for hundreds of drunk kids. Yes, I wanted to perform here. I was prepared to argue that I was going to bring 10 people with me and that they are all alcoholics. It would only be a lie to the extent that they aren’t all alcoholics, but none of them are teetotallers.
There was a whiteboard with the week’s entertainment. I would be on an eastbound plane when they hosted their next open mic, but they were having live music on Friday night: an open jam. That sounded like an opportunity. I took the owner’s number and called him later that night. I told him that I was a comic visiting from New York and asked if I could do a 10-15 minute set in between music sets. He was thrilled with the idea. I realized that I could probably go on for as long as I wanted and seriously considered pulling out all of my material and doing a half-hour. Decided to do it.
When my posse and I returned to the bar on Friday night, the bar owner and the frontman for the band were both enthusiastic about the idea of live comedy. The bar was alive and showing promise that it would be packed later. I talked to the frontman about the setup, found out what kind of music I’d be following (Greatful Dead and Phish covers, mostly - sorry you couldn’t be there Pauly) and set up my friend’s video camera. If I was going to do an audition length set, I was going to tape it. Then I settled in for an hour of Phish and hoped that I wouldn’t poke swizzle sticks through my eardrums.
When the band started playing I knew that the full bar wouldn’t be an advantage. The audio was great, but the speakers were set up to play to the front of the bar. All of the people at the pool tables in the back couldn’t hear much of anything. The volume in the bar from the chatter alone was also staggering. A room full of earlytwentysomething stoners/skiers getting drunk and trying to get laid is LOUD. On the far side of the speakers it was impossible to make out any of the lyrics. Still, I can make myself heard if I want to. I decided that if I could get the people to pay attention, I could get them to laugh. So I was going to start out loud.
After the band finished their set and we took a short break, I was introduced. About a dozen people (plus my posse) turned to the stage and waited for the show to start. Over 100 people were very intently not waiting for the show and making a lot of noise. I started with a riff on Colorado that I wrote that afternoon. Having written it that afternoon I rushed it and forgot to tell my favorite part of the joke. Still, a good response from the attentive few. In fact, that was the pattern the whole time. Not many people were listening, but the people who bothered to listen were loving it. I did material on my mother’s desire to see me with a Jewish girl, my time with Zinester’s family over Christmas, relationship stuff, an on-the-spot riff on the Tuaca girls shilling their product in the bar, a couple of Paris Hilton jokes, the Spider Man stuff and a political joke or two. To my little crowd, I crushed. Just about everything went over well - though one or two jokes went over their heads. After the set I had a lot of people come up to me and tell me that they thought I was great. Very satisfying. I was really looking forward to watching the tape.
Unfortunately, the material was better than the performance. I watched the tape and felt actual pain. First of all, did you know that the camera adds 40 pounds? I may as well have been wearing Spandex. Horrifying. Second, I rushed everything. What should have been 25-30 minutes was actually closer to 17. Not only was I talking like an auctioneer, I wasn’t waiting for the laughter to stop before moving on - the background noise was really screwing with my timing. I also screwed up my set list pretty badly. I had a very specific order that I wanted to do the jokes in, but didn’t spend enough time memorizing that order. Big mistake. I ended up having to consult my set list and - before wrapping up - having Brother of Ugarte call out a joke that he knew I wanted to tell. All in all, not a tape that I can show to anyone.
It was disappointing. The tape had all of the signs of my improvement since July but enough mistakes that I can’t use the tape for anything but my own education. That is just glass-half-empty thinking, though.
The show was so much fun to do. The audience was less than two feet from my face and I didn’t have the usual stage lights in my eyes ruining my view. Standing right in front of me were a couple of cuties doubled over in laughter. The bar owner was at the back of the “listening area” laughing. The frontman was cracking up. My friends, most of whom had never seen me perform, were also enjoying the hell out of the show. I may not feel great about my performance but I feel better than ever about my material. I don’t know when I’ll play in such a hostile venue next; this show let me know that I could handle it.
This week I’m going back to hosting my open mic at Ripple on Thursday followed by a show at R Bar. I can’t wait to get back in the New York groove, but I’ll always remember Buckets.
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SHENANIGANS!!!

