Why Is, "Stand Up" Such A, "Saussage Fest"!?

If I was a woman, I'd be pissed.  Hey, I'm a MAN and I'm pissed!

I know that stand up comedy has always been a male dominated job.  From Bob Hope to Zane Cook and, Nick Swardson, guys who were NOT funny got a LOT more Movie/radio/TV/satellite radio time than the women comics.

And I know stand up is a hard job.  Cause after all, if it was easy?  Zane Cook and Nick Swardson  would STILL be doing it.

As it is?  Zane is wishing there was just ONE more, Jessica Simpson movie they needed him for in the works.   And Nick is wishing, "Reno 911" was still on the air, and he could get a couple more seasons of being the Gay, male, prostitute standing in front of, "Taco's, Taco's, Taco's, Taco's" on that show!

They canceled his series on, Comedy Central faster than, "Crodmandoon And The Flaming Sword Of Fire".  Now THAT has to be a record.

The comedy hall of fame is still started with that, stuck around too long, not funny in the end, Bob Hope.  But he earned his place.

No one will question Bill Cosby's place in the comedy pantheon.  Those were the first albums my mother gave me as a kid in the 60's.

George Carlin is the undisputed king, or stand up comedy.  No one can touch him.

Richard Pryor, Rodney Dangerfield, Eddie Murphy?  Oh, no question, RIGHT there!  Same league.  No one can shit on these guys.

Johnny Carson, Jay Leno, David Letterman, they all EARNED their place in late night TV by being GREAT stand up comedians first.  No question.

Didn't work out so well for Dick Cavett, or Joey Bishop.  Or, Aresinio Hall, or, Chevy Chase, or countless others!

So here's the deal.  If someone who was a short lived,  nominal comedian like, Flip Wilson, and a guy who wasn't EVEN a comedian, like Dean Martin, could get a show on network TV?  Why is Carol Burnett the only WOMAN who could do the same thing?

Why have not Mom's Mabley, Joan Rivers, and Rita Rudner not got their own shows.

Well with, Mom's, it's obvious.  She was MOSTLY famous BEFORE TV.  And she's WAY dead. Just seeing if you were paying attention.

Joan Rivers should have taken over, The Tonight Show from Johnny.  But she pissed him off.

Rita Rudner is still filling houses in Las Vegas, even though she hasn't been on TV like HBO since the 1990's.

But tonight, (and truth be know, a lot of time since my friend released her album) I have been listening to, Comedy Central Radio and Raw Dog Comedy on Siriusxm.  Just hoping that they will play her stuff.

A few summers ago, when my friend, Kelly McGuire was here to do a concert in the back yard, I told him, "I heard, Boat In Belize on Radio Margaritaville yesterday!"  And he said, "Great!  THAT'S another, $1.40!"

He was being a smart ass, but still.  It has to do a guy good to know he's getting airplay on siriusxm!

The only woman I have heard on siriusxm is, Amy Shumer.  I really like, Amy Shumer.  She is SO funny.  But I have a feeling that since Comedy Central just gave her a SHOW?  That might be why she's the only WOMAN they are playing.

All the women out there who not only LIKE women comedians, but who ARE women comedians, need to rise up and get their place.

I'm in for some money to put together another, "Women Of The Night" on HBO.  What is that web site you can post a project and people contribute?  Just sayin...

Lighten Up, Francis!

You remember the scene in the movie, Stripes where they are sitting in the barracks and the new soldiers are all telling the others about themselves?  And the guy they called, "Psycho" says, "Any of you HOMO'S touch me?  I'll kill ya!  You touch my stuff?  I'll kill ya!  You call me, Francis?  I'll Kill ya!"

Then the Sargent says, "Lighten up, Francis."

I'm feeling like Sgt. Slugowuski today.  Why is everyone so serious?

I posted two jokes on Facebook yesterday.  One was about my wife, the blind woman, calling me in the middle of the day to ask for the combination to the gun safe.  Now that's some funny shit right there, I don't care who you are.  How many ways can you go with a line like that?  I mean, she can't SEE the keypad, and who's she going to shoot that couldn't just keep moving away from her?  There are a million possible punch lines to that statement.  ONE friend noticed it, and hit, "like" cause she thought it was funny.

The other joke was about women always wanted to change men.  They meet you in a bar where you are drinking and smoking, and marry you, then they want you to change!  I thought that was pretty funny.  No less than SIX people came un-f******-glued at me!  One old friend implied I was hating on women, cause men want their wives to look like supermodels and cook like they should have a show on, The Food Network!

A former boss seems to think I'm drinking myself to death and my wife is constantly bitching at me.  Neither of which is true.  It was just a joke!

Another friend seems to think I was telling the world I am dying and wondered how long I was going to be around.  I'm having a HIP replacement not a HEART transplant!

One old friend even wondered why I would bring that shit up in the first place?  Cause it was funny?  I THOUGHT it was funny.

When I first got to know my friend the comedian, we ONLY communicated by email and Facebook messages or chat room (until she got too famous to use the chat room) for months.  Never talked face to face, didn't talk on the phone.  I never even thought to give her my phone number until she was driving out here last summer and wanted directions.

But one of the first things she said to Deb when we finally did meet face to face was, "Your husband is so funny.  He should be doing stand up."

She got it.  And we had never met.  So how come folks I have know, sometimes since we were teenagers, think I'm a woman hating drunk with a death wish.  And yet I don't believe in an afterlife, so that doesn't make a lot of sense.

I studied Sociology and Psychology.  I KNOW that most communication is non-verbal, when folks are talking face to face.  Voice inflection, facial expression, tone, body language all deliver a message.  But when I have gone out of my way to tell anyone who's paying attention, that when I'm on FB, I'm doing, "Sit Down Comedy", cause I don't have the guts to be a Stand Up Comedian.

When I told this to Lisa, she said, "You kicked down doors in meth labs, and you're afraid to get up on a stage and tell jokes?"

I told her, yeah.  If I was doing a no knock search warrant in a meth lab, and someone FOUND a BOMB (and it happened) I knew how to deal with that.  If I was up on a stage and WAS the BOMB?  That scared me.

So, for the thousandth time, if I say something on FB you don't like?  Before you go off, take a second and ask yourself if I might be trying, even though it could be badly, to make a joke.

Now, if it's about politics or religion and pisses you off?  Well, that's probably NOT a joke.  I'm a total left wing Liberal and an atheist.  So no, I don't respect your denial of global warming and evolution and I don't respect your religious traditions.  That doesn't mean I won't like you as a person.  But I won't stop eating to let YOU say grace in MY house, OK?

And I'm not a total jerk about it.  If you're Jewish?  I'll be happy to keep the cheese off your burger at the BBQ in my backyard.  But don't expect me to give up the pork cause God told YOU it was a bad idea.

Oh, and for my Mormon friends, the few I have left, who are asking yourself, "What's the religious difference between a hamburger and a cheeseburger?"  It's not Kosher to put the dairy on the meat.  We'll talk about shell fish later.

I'm joking again.  Lets see who gets it?

I Miss My Friend, Dave

Nelson.  Nielson.  Saw his name spelled both ways.  He never seemed to care which one was the right one.

We met when we went to work for Youth Corrections closing down the old, State School in Ogden and opening the new, Decker Lake Youth Facility in West Valley back in 1983.  We hit it off immediately.  He liked whiskey and college football, and Golden Eagles Hockey.  So we hung out away from work a lot.

He liked Deb, and we had just met.  But turns out, Deb was not a big fan of Dave's.  And I found out later that she had pretty good reasons.  He never did anything bad to her, treated her with nothing but respect.  But he pulled me into some situations that could have been ugly.

I left Youth Corrections after six months and went to work for The Juvenile Court.  It was a regular job, with regular hours.  I was a Probation Officer.  Mostly sitting in offices, counseling kids and families and writing reports for the court's Judges.

Dave and I stayed friends.  We had some adventures.  Some epic travels to places like Jackson Hole and Yellowstone.  Many times with our friend, Tracy.  Crazy nights spent at, The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar, and other places.

But Dave had some problems.  Mental health problems that he tried to self medicate with alcohol and marijuana.  His mom had spent some time in a mental hospital, and I think Dave was suffering the same way. And the self medication didn't work out for him.  Got him fired from the State.  He went to work in the insurance industry, and that didn't work out either.  He ended up in social services in Davis Country, but another DUI got him fired from that job.

According to his last girlfriend that I knew, who was much younger than him, he was drinking all the time.  Started every morning, and drank all day at work, and all night at home.

One night, he shot up his own house when she threatened to leave him.  The Cops came and took away his gun.  He wanted me to buy him another one the next day.  I bought him a sandwich instead, and told him no.

He was pretty good with his money.  He was never broke, and never out on the street.  Always had a nice apartment and a nice car.  Even when he'd been fired from work.

Last time I saw Dave, Deb and I were living in West Jordan.  Meagan wasn't very old.  Danny wasn't born yet.  And out of the blue he called one day and asked if he could come out for a, "Dog Day" Friday with my friend, Phil.  So I gave him directions.

When he got there, it was pretty obvious that his life was out of control.  He'd pissed himself.  I gave him a pair of my work out shorts, that I never say again.  We was drinking like crazy.

Deb wanted me to throw him out, but I couldn't do it.  I let him stay for dinner.  And I'm glad I did.  Cause it was the last time I saw him.  He had great and grandiouse plans, which it was pretty obvious that a guy sitting on your patio in YOUR shorts cause he pissed himself driving out to your house, were never going to happen.

I often wonder if he had gotten the proper mental health help, would he still be here with us?

Cause a few weeks after this visit, I heard that his brother went to check on him in his apartment and found him dead on his couch.  He had no resources, and his father wouldn't have anything to do with him, so the Country buried him.  I have no idea where.

He was one of the smartest guys I ever knew.  He was awesome with delinquent kids.  He was so talented in social work.  Loved cars, and good music.  The outdoors, Yellowstone, Teton Park, and Jackson Hole's cowboy bars.  He was the most interesting man I think I have ever known.

And he pissed his life away.

I miss him cause I think he would be really happy for me.  For how well I've done.  For Deb and I being together for 28 married years.  And he would LOVE the, Bitchin' Camaro and going to see my friend, Lisa do comedy with me in Las Vegas.  I really miss this guy.

I don't tell this story as some cautionary tale.  I'm not making judgements.  I'm just missing a friend tonight.

When I go get my hip replaced here shortly, Dave would be the guy who would show up with a mini bottle of Jack Daniels and a pack of Dunhill Cigarettes (He wouldn't know I quit smoking in 2003 since he's been dead longer than that!) and I never mix alcohol with narcotics.  Which might be why I'm still alive, and he isn't.  But it's the thought that counts.

So, here's to you Dave!  I miss you.  You're pictures would be ALL over Facebook, and your precence  would be regular in, The Garage Ma Hall all winter and the back yard all summer.

So it goes.  You win some, you lose some.  And you really miss some.  I miss you Dave.  But I was lucky to have you in my life for a little while.

Here's The Deal With Owning A Muscle Car...

The, "Bitchin' Camaro" has a Corvette engine in it.  It's 6.2 Liters which converts to roughly 380 Cubic Inches.  It sports 406 Break Horse Power with the automatic transmission.  It would be 426 BHP with the stick, but I'm lazy at my age so I bought the automatic.

This thing is so tightly strung that every bump in the city feels like it will shake your teeth out.  It's a race car.  With air conditioning.  No doubt about it, it is a RACE CAR!  The suspension is stiffer than a wedding prick!

I have the Audi for a daily driver, and for long trips.  It's so much more comfortable to be driving.  But if you want a, "toy" car?  Something to drive just for shits and giggles?  I highly recommend the Camaro.  It's faster than your thoughts about the hot chick who checks you out when you buy a sandwich at Crown Burger.

It's bigger than my friend Phil's Porsche, so I can sit in it.  Comfortably.  And every where I go in it, I get treated like I'm driving the Bat Mobile.

Today, we stopped at a rest stop on the way home and a guy in a nice looking Mustang GT who has stopped to have a smoke, gave me a thumb's up as I drove out past HIS car!

A little while after I bought it, a guy in a mini van actually leaned out his window and did the two handed, "I'm not worthy" wave when I turned a corner around him.

I didn't buy the car in an effort to GET attention.  But it sure seems to GET attention where ever I go.  Every time I go get gas at Costco, guys from other gas pumps come over and want to talk about the car. 

Women?  Not so much.  They will just look at me and say, "That's a really pretty car."  To which I just say, "Thank you.  It's fun to drive."  I mean, what else can I say?

"Hey, baby, you're hot for the car?  You want to go for a ride?"  Nope.  I'm not that guy.

But my friend, Deb, who I've known since we were 8 years old loves the Camaro.  I call her, "My Hippie Girlfriend" cause she hasn't changed since the 70's.  And she loves my wife.

She loves it when we go to lunch and I pick her up in the Camaro.  She likes me to floor it, cause she says it makes her feel skinny again!  That's some funny shit.  That's a centrifugal force joke.  And that's funny, I don't care who you are.

And if you don't know what centrifugal force is?  My blog is way over your head.

I have owned the muscle car since March of 2010 when they first brought back the Camaro.  Deb didn't want to travel in it, cause she only rode in it in the city where it's, "bumpy".  We haven't taken it any farther away than Park City for lunch with Phil and Jami in their Boxster.

Well, this weekend might have changed her mind.  We took it to Wendover to see Ron White and have dinner with our friends, Allie and Mark because it was Allie's birthday.

And that sucker runs pretty smooth at about 85 on a good, smooth highway.  And with the ground effects package, it planes out REAL nice at about 100 MPH.

So I can see us taking the Camaro to see our friend Lisa the comedian in Denver or Las Vegas, or to the Jimmy Buffett show in Vegas in October, since much of the highway between here and there is 80 MPH, so that means I can lock in at about 90 and be good.

And when you drive a muscle car?  And you have to pass a truck, or someone going slow and shoot the gap?  And you have 400 BHP?  You can DO THAT SHIT!  You just put your foot on the floor, and you go from 75 to 120 in a HEARTBEAT!  It is literally, THAT fast.  If you didn't have a head rest?  You would have a whiplash. 

And I know about the tires.  "Z" rated.  "Speed" rated.  Pierelli.  I know that's misspelled, but it's what's on the car, and it's really my only choice.  You don't buy this car to put tires that are rated for 80 thousand miles like you would put on your mom's Buick.  It just wouldn't be worth having the car, if it was not going to perform like it should, would it?  Of course not.

So driving fast is a good thing.  Driving REALLY fast is a an extra good thing.  Hey, if I get caught?  I'll pay the ticket.  But the truth be known?  With the license plate I have (EXCOP) I don't think I'm going to get written up.  Regular folks think that Cops look after each other and they get pissed about it.  But the truth be known?  We do.

Sorry regular folks.  Live with it.

So now that I have more than 10K miles on the original tires, I guess I've got to start shopping for tires.  I love it.  I love shopping for tires.

And I love my Muscle car.  Yeah, it's an expensive, "toy".  My wife doesn't like to ride in it around town.  And you have to buy Premium gas (but I have to do that for the Audi, too.  So what the fuck?). 

Having a Muscle Car is awesome.  I only have ONE.  And I love it.  But it's not for everyone.  And it should NOT be your only car.  Cause it's not real practical.  The trunk is shit, and the back seat is a joke.

But other than that?  I LOVE it!

I STILL Cannot Go In A Bar In Utah

I retired on June 16, 2006 after 23 years of working for the State of Utah.  The last 18 years of my career I was an Adult Probation And Parole Agent.  In Utah, that means you are a Cop.

I retired because I'd had enough.  A man I considered a friend as well as my boss dumped a bunch of garbage cases on me cause he was too lazy to deal with the Agent who wasn't working and just figured I'd clean it up.  He figured wrong.  My dad was circling the drain, and about to leave me enough money that I didn't need to work any more.   So I decided not to.

I don't miss the job.  Even if I miss some of the people I worked with.  Not by any stretch ALL of the people I worked with, but many of them.

If I miss the job, I watch a couple of episodes of, COPS on TV and it reminds me why I would rather be in Paris, or a beach in Belize than in a trailer court in West Valley City.

But there are some things that have stayed with me, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to shake them.  I can't go to a bar in Utah.  And I proved it again tonight after seven years of not working.

Before Deb and I became AP&P Agents, we used to enjoy going to private clubs (remember those?).  I played hockey for several of them.  We enjoyed going out for dinner, or dancing.  Meeting friends before and after Golden Eagle's games.  But shortly after becoming, "the law" all of that changed.

Every time we would go into a club, we would run into a, "bandit" one of us knew.  It was an uncomfortable experience.  And if you wanted to drink, you couldn't take a gun with you.  So why go to a bar?

We all but quit dancing.  On the other hand, we started to eat in nicer restaurants.

Tonight, an old friend from Three Fountains (holding up FOUR fingers.  It's required) was in town from Florida where he makes his home now.  He wanted to get together with some friends at a bar for a few drinks.  So I figure I'd go for a little while.

After all, because of some pending surgery I can't drink, I'll be having ice tea.  And I have a CCW Permit so I can go, "heavy" as they say in, The Sopranos.  Everything should be cool.  And it was.

It was nice to see old friends.  This place had amazing tea!  Very refreshing, I had two glasses.

But some thing's never change.  Even without realizing I was doing it, I sat with my back to the wall, and my eyes on the door.  I was looking at every one's belt line, looking for signs of a holster or a gun.  Every guy with a tattoo got a twice over to see if they were Prison tattoo's or if he just loved his Harley as much as he loved his wife.

You remember that stupid color code the Bush Administration was never going to let get down to green, just to keep people ginned up about terrorism?  Well there is a similar thing in, "Cop World", but it's actually useful.  And I might get the order wrong, but you'll get the idea.

White:  You fell asleep on your couch watching a college football game.

Yellow:  You are up a up and functioning.  You can heat up soup, and not burn yourself.  This is where most people live their lives.

Orange:  You are working the street.  You need to be ready for anything.  Remember, concealment hides you, but cover stops bullets, where's my tree?  How can I get out of here if I have too?

Red:  Holy Shit!  The bullets are flying, I need that TREE NOW!  In a fight, front sight!  Shoot for center body mass!  Where is my exit?  How many rounds are left in this magazine and do I have time for a tactical reload?

Living in Red doesn't happen much.  They always said law enforcement is long stretches of absolute boredom punctuated by short bursts of total chaos.  When the fire fight, or fist fight, or what ever is over, no matter how good of shape you are in, you will be exhausted.

But living in Orange takes a little out of you too.  You are being tuned just a little higher, and tighter.  And you can do that if you do it eight hours at a time, several times a week.  But sitting in a bar, among friends, when you haven't been doing it for a while?  That kind of takes the fun out the gathering.  At least for me.

So, I didn't stay long.  And I'm not sure the feeling will ever go away.  Maybe the next time he comes to town, if he doesn't want to come over here, or have dinner at Italian Village, we should try Starbucks?

An Open Letter To Jim Matheson

Jim, it's time to go.  I think you have been in Congress long enough.  And I truly believe that in the beginning, you went to serve in Congress for all the right reasons.  You really felt like you could help Utah.  But somewhere, along the line your motive changed.

It became all about keeping Jim Matheson in Congress, what his constituents really wanted be damned.

You never would put, "DEMOCRAT" on your campaign signs or literature.  And lately, you've gone out of your way to make sure everyone knows you don't support, Obama Care for your poor constituents.  That you didn't support the Presidents stimulus package to bring more jobs to the working poor.  You vote like a Republican most of the time.

For a while, you could cajole your Democratic supporters by reminding them that you were still really with them at heart.  But you had to vote this way to stay in Congress.  And wasn't it better to have a Democrat who voted with you SOME of the time, instead of a Republican who would vote against you ALL the time.  But now?  Not so much.

As the Prophet, Jerry Garcia once said, "Choosing the lesser of two evils, is still choosing evil."

I'm tired of there being no one there to look out after MY interests at all!  The things your Democratic supporters care strongest about?  You vote against us on all of them, and with the Republicans.

And this last election was about as bad as it could get.  You allowed the regurgitation of Republican talking points by Mia Love to make her look pretty polished compared to you.  After all, you spent all your time trying not to say ANY thing that would offend ANY one!

I can't take it any more.  After all, what's the difference if every congressional districts in Utah belongs to Republicans?  The way you vote?  They already do.  So, instead of giving you money, which would be a waste of it, I'll send a check to Al Franken, or Elizabeth Warren, or someone who thinks like I do.  And hope they can beat back the wall of dumb that is the entire delegation from Utah.

And this time, you are in for a much tougher fight.  She's going to run again, she'll have a lot more experience, and more money.  And your name won't even have to come up.  She can just rare back, T-Off on President Obama, remind people that her opponent is in HIS Party, and she will drive you all the way down the fairway and into private law practice.

And I don't want to spend time listening to hours and hours of campaign bullshit.

So, I figure you have three choices.  Drop out.  You have no support left from rank and file Democrats.  At this point, most of us will vote for any one but you.  Yes, I'm talking about a YELLOW dog, but NOT a BLUE one.  This would be the honorable thing to do.  You would give a new, fresh face in the Democratic Party a shot to gain some experience, and when Love explodes in a giant puff of stupid, and has to spend a lot of time defending her parents immigration status during her one and only term.  That Democrat might be in a position to pull off an upset in the next election.

Run again.  I don't think you have a chance to get out of convention this time.  If you do, I'll be a delegate, and so will a bunch of my friends who are so fed up with your BS that it will be worth getting up early on a Saturday to see you sent packing.

Third, and this is probably your best option, and will show your true colors.  Switch Parties!  You would be doing us both a favor.  Democrats and Republicans, I mean.  The R's get an experienced contender, and they wouldn't have to run the embarrassment that is Mia Love, the Anchor Baby From Haiti who's parents can't explain how they got here.  And the D's can run ANY ONE BUT YOU!

This would be a win win for us all.  And, you would get what you really want.  Not to be a good representative for the people of Utah.  But to make sure Jim Matheson keeps his cushy job as a Congressman!

And the minute you make the announcement you're going to do that, cries of, "Oh, that's awful!" will ring out from NO ONE I know.

Good luck, Jim.  Finding a law office, I mean.