I'm back from a comedy road trip that took me to Comedy Zones in Kentucky and West Virginia. The hills had eyes and they were smiling in my general direction. This was my second time back to these two clubs, and the shows went better than the stereotypes of the region might suggest. I had the pleasure of working with two time New Orleans entertainer of the year, Mutzie. Mutzie is a cool guy with an interesting look to him that I can only describe by putting it in old school pro wrestling terms. Imagine if George "The Animal" Steele talked like Dusty Rhodes. I'm glad the shows went well, because the weather stunk out loud. I had a 7 1/2 hour drive on Thursday. I didn't rain for about 15 minutes of the trip. I didn't see the sun until my drive home on Sunday. The sky was a depressing blanket of clouds...an AIDS quilt of clouds for the entire weekend. In order to at least simulate sunlight, I decided to make a return trip to the Eastern Kentucky Science Center to check out the afternoon planetarium show. I'm sure you're asking yourself what you might find at the Eastern Kentucky Science Center... Does it house Col. Sanders' top secret 11 herbs and spices? Well, here's one item on display...
Luckily, they also have a planetarium which, just like last time, I had all to myself. The program they had this time was about the Hubble. Nothing too fancy. It was like looking into a giant ViewMaster that'd been left in a hot car. Afterwards, I was treated to a complimentary laser light show set to some of today's crappiest rock hits. I was kicking myself, because one of the choices I was offered was Laser Praise. If there's one thing lasers have yet to fully convey, it's irony.
Onward to the next exotic port of call, Charleston, West Virginia. When I got to the hotel, I made the discovery that there was a casino with a poker room about twenty minutes away. Let's see... Idle time? Check. Extra cash? Check. Horrible judgement? Check. I'm not going to get into specifics, but I'll throw a quick stat at you. My average per minute in the casino was -$4. From my hopeful entrance to my shameful exit, I lost $100 in 25 minutes. Actual poker table time was more like 5 minutes. I can't even say I played horribly, because what I did doesn't qualify as playing poker. I got played. I was a goddamn slot machine with a sweatshirt on. Rather than buy back in to try and win my dignity back, I sulked back to my car, went back to my hotel room, and watched a marathon of Bully Beatdown on MTV2.
As bad as I got beat, at least I could rest easy knowing that I had a sure bet that paid off on Sunday. Go ahead and check the last installment...I called the Chiefs over the Redskins. Two field goals against the worst defense in the league. This team is so inept at scoring, they can barely get in a 3-point stance. I expected to see Snyder fiddling while the fans burnt FedEx down. The Native Americans that are suing the team over the name can just site the last six games as exhibit A that the Redskins are offensive. I do feel bad for Jim Zorn. He's like Wallace Hartley, bravely trying to make some music while the Titanic sinks into the drink. On Monday, he had his play calling duties forcibly stripped from him, and I'm pretty sure he had his credit revoked at Eastern Motors.
If you haven't heard yet, there's a huge comedy festival descending on the DC area this weekend. Tig Notaro and friends brings us The Bentzen Ball. 50 comics, from Patton Oswalt to Sarah Silverman to a cavalcade of local comedians. I'm not one of them. Don't let my veiled bitterness keep you from checking it out.
To be continued...