This Weird Thing I'm Doing in 2010

So I'm really opening up this whole blog situation. Sure, the same great comedy insights will be here, but I'm also going to start using it for some odds and ends too. So what? Nobody cares. Anyway, what better way to use this old thing than to digitize my current project: enlarging my vocabulary by underlining words I don't know in the books I'm reading, looking up their definitions, and then writing a story using all the words. (I'm getting dumb and worried about it.) Also, this is fun and a cool thing that cool people do. My definitions are shorthand but I will include the legit definitions in the future because who knows this could become a thing. Oh, also some phrases and words just seemed interesting to me because I had never heard of them (like olive sandwiches, below) so I included them as well. I definitely cheated with two of the words...see if you can spot them!

1/2/2010

The Once & Future King by T. H. White
adipose - of or relating to animal fat/oils, fat
seraphic - angelic (an order of angels is a seraphim)

The Crack Up by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Yellow Nineties - movement marked by Dandyism and Decadence
prurient - marked by arousing or appealing to sexual desire
complaisant - amiable
olive sandwiches - no shit they're olive sandwiches, but never heard of them
sibylline - of or relating to the prophetess, a sybil is a female oracle/prophetess
valet de chambre - chamber valet, thanks France
verbena - type of flower/plant
alyssum - type of flower/plant in mustard family

The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2009 edited by Dave Eggers
passerine - of or relating to the Passeriformes family of song birds
zugunruhe - anxious behavior in migratory animals
anemometer - measures wind speed/force

ZUGUNRUHE by Allen Strickland Williams

"I have to go home," I tell myself. "College students go home during winter break. Especially when school is in Upstate New York, and home is in Florida. This is what people do."
It is not that my family was not complaisant during my visits home. They're wonderful. It's just that after following this pattern for the last three years I felt no urge to make the journey. I felt like a passerine bird preparing for his yearly migration, except I lacked any enthusiasm whatsoever for making the trip, even if it meant no "South for the Winter." I knew time at home would be about as much fun as eating olive sandwiches with the pits still in. My cell phone started to ring, which was my cue that the cab was here.

I got a text from my sister in that weird in between time after the plane hits the tarmac and before you see your family. You know, the purgatory of air travel. First you turn your phone on (because now it's allowed) and you undo your seat belt and get up to get you carry-ons from the overhead compartment (even though it's not allowed) and then once you've gathered your bearings you sort of just wait paralyzed in a cocked stance according to your seat placement, height, and the exact angle degree of the cabin ceiling. Then I start to feel self-conscious about standing, but I don't want to be the type of idiot who stands up just to sit back down, so I stay up, uncomfortably, and stare at the adipose Midwesterners and the prurient young girls who make me feel uncomfortable to be around them because they look so young and are so young and I look so young but might as well be a hundred years old. I think about what life must have been like back in the Yellow Nineties, and if I would have made a good dandy or not, or what a good dandy is, anyway. Then I feel weird about thinking about stuff like that, and then it's time to get off the plane. Her text read, "Be forewarned. Mom and Dad are still Mom and Dad." I laugh.

I think the most significant change I've seen in airports post 9/11 has nothing to do with security or pre-boarding procedures, but with what happens post-flight. Now, since non-flyers can't go into the actual terminals, all the arriving passengers from all the different parts of the airport and all the different airlines and from all the different places come out the same long hallway, and all the families or friends of all the travelers await in a large semi-circle for their respective missing parts. If there is a heaven, I wonder if it will be anything like that situation when you get there. Imagine--a seraphic choir exalting your long awaited arrival into the afterlife right next to a Cinnabon.

My sister's sybilline warning was spot on. My parents were still undoubtedly my parents. At times I wish I had a valet de chambre, if only so in some bizarre plot twists we could exchange lives and he would have to deal with the neuroses of my familial unit.
Dad said, "Hello, Son," and I said, "Hello, Dad."
Mom hugs me and instantly brings news from the front, "Did you hear your Aunt Jill had twins?"
"Yes, Mom, I heard..."
"The names she gave them! Verbena and Alyssum...crazy names."
Beth then defends our new cousins who cannot yet defend themselves and pipes in, "They're names of plants, Mom. I think they're nice."
"Plants? How do you know they're named after plants?"
"I Googled it."
"Google, now there's another crazy name..."

That basic conversation lasted for the entire ride home. I got in late and was pretty drunk from the flight so I went upstairs to my old room and got in bed. It's always hard to sleep someplace new, especially when that new place is someplace old. I closed my eyes and held my breath. I thought of one of my old science teachers from when I was a little kid. I couldn't even remember his name, but I remembered learning about hurricanes and that an an-em-om-e-ter (that's still how I say big words) measures wind speed. My teacher showed us one of those Weather Channel images of a hurricane and pointed to the outside edge of the storm and asked how fast we thought the wind was blowing there. We made some boneheaded guesses and then he told us the answer--about 100 miles per hour. Then he pointed smack dab in the middle of the hurricane and asked us how fast we thought the wind was blowing there. Our guesses became extravagant: 200 miles per hour, 250, etc. He gave a sly grin and shook his head. "It's probably much closer to zero. You see, that's the eye of the storm." I exhaled.

The Rise and Fall of Allen Strickland Williams

Two weeks ago today I got fired.  I received a call from the third-party company that pays my check every week and got the news.  To clarify, I was not let go due to the economy or cutbacks or anything like that.  One of my bosses was not happy with my performance, and simply wanted to terminate the working relationship before going any further.  I got capital F "fired."  Sounds like the decision had been made about two weeks prior.  I was very Zen after hearing the news, and even somewhat relieved.  At that point I was hating the job pretty fierce.  I used to ask my friends at lunch if they'd mind running me over in the parking garage so I wouldn't have to go back to the office.  I was half-joking.  At any rate, I wasn't happy and I knew it, so it was hard to get too upset about it.  Obviously, no one wants to be fired, and that didn't feel too good.  Even if I don't particularly care about something or put too much effort into it, it still feels bad to fail, let people down, or not live up to the expectations which have been placed on myself.  That smarts and, while I am happy to be removed from the less than ideal situation, I'm not pleased with the way it happened.  But that's the way it went down and so I need to accept it, learn from it, and, no matter what I end up doing after this, make sure I draw upon this experience in the most positive way so that I won't repeat the same mistakes I've made countless times before.

So I'm looking for work.  I'd like to find a bona fide job in comedy as a writer's assistant or for a comedy management firm, but finding a day job is not my MO at the moment.  I'd rather simply temp or freelance for the time being (or find something else such as substitute teaching/etc.) so that I can afford to live while really being able to focus the energy necessary to pursue stand-up.  I'd love to be able to write every day, perform at least at one open mic a night without question, and take some more classes at UCB.  About two and a half weeks ago I hit the open mic scene again hard and realized how much I truly enjoy being on stage.  The five minutes I spend on stage, no matter how the set is received, make my day.  I could work for 10 hours straight and have a shitty day and then I go on stage and hear one hearty laugh and genuinely feel better about myself and the world and would even go so far as to think, "This was a good day."  Something that has that much power over my psyche deserves more respect and attention, and fortunately (for better or worse) I'm going to have the time and energy to shift my focus thusly.

We'll see how this all pans out when I'm eating saltines sprayed with a variety of Febreze air freshener scents for taste, but for now, my head is hanging no lower than usual and I still feel like I'm slouching towards the right direction.  And I feel a quickening of the pace coming on.

Happy Holidays to you and yours.

If you're in Florida, so am I.  Until 12/27.  Let's hang out. 

I'm a Hustler, Baby!

I got a new job. Took about four weeks for the interview process and I still don't have all the details ironed out, but I'm very thankful and excited. I'm glad I have proven to be at least moderately successful on an extremely small scale thus far in my career, although at times I do long to be one of the transient, listless wanderers-for-hire so prevalent amongst the comedy community in Los Angeles. Hard to make those open mics when you work all day. But I say that all the time... Get over it, Williams.

So it's been a long, long time. I've done a few shows here and there and dove in/dropped out/dove back in/dropped back out of stand-up a few times. But I always go back. Like the lonely 13-year-old who hates playing Magic: The Gathering but goes every week to Games Club anyway so he at least has something to do with someone sometime, I always go back.

Two experiences of note regarding my stand-up:

-About three/four weeks ago I went to the local pool hall with my friend Doug to have a few drinks and play some games. As we walk in there's a guy standing at the door to one of the side rooms who apparently lives in Doug's building. He says he's having an open mic. It's a sort of jazz/spoken word thing. Doug says I do stand-up. Rio (the man at the door) says I should go up. I figure, well if it's going to be this easy to find an open mic and get a spot I'd be pretty stupid not to go up. So Doug and I play some games then come back and near the end of the night I get to go up. The jazz band was still on stage and Rio asked if I wanted them to stay up with me while I performed. Without missing a beat I said, "Hell yeah," and throughout my entire set I had a walking bass and drum beat behind my jokes. Little rough at first, but we all got into a groove and the music really, really added to the show. I think my jokes fit into that framework well. They're very short and can be easily dissected into discrete parts, and I am not too proud to say I probably tell the same basic "joke" over and over but with different words/situations/references/whatever. After a while the pattern of the music worked with the pattern of the jokes and I felt semi-professional. Also that night Doug and I befriended an El Salvadoran named Ricardo who brought us a ton of drinks/shots and then drove us home. What can I say, baby? I'm just a crazy jazz-cat going out into the blackness of the night and congregating with the other sinners to try and make some sense out of this crazy blue marble God named Earth. Skit skat scooby da doo. Ya dig?

-Last week Doug's friends from high school who are in a band called Titus Andronicus (check them out) were playing at The Echo. I've met the guys and known them for a few years through a friend from freshman year of college, Alex Tretiak. They're really fun, charismatic, smart, hilarious guys that make some great rock and roll and put on a hell of a live show. I get to the venue and see Eric (the drummer) who mentions the band was talking about bringing me up on stage to tell a few jokes while they tune their guitars. Pat (vocals/guitar/harmonica) confirmed and brought me up on stage. Had an absolute blast dealing with the hostile-is-too-nice-of-a-word audience, but I do feel like I stood my ground and told my jokes and got my laughs in a way fitting for the situation. At a point later in the night Pat had a problem with his guitar and brought me back on, much to the chagrin of...everyone. But I had a really great time up there and my jokes are funny and I got to do something I do not deserve to do given my skill set/limited experience--I got to perform at the Echo. Thanks for having me up there, guys.

Life has been good recently. Hopefully it will get even better with time. Had a good trip home and to New York at the end of July/beginning of August. Nice to get out of LA for a bit.

I think I might take a good solid month and make it an absolute priority to do an open mic a night excepting weekends. Obviously my social life will take a toll, but I'm a man of extremes and I need to just make it a necessity. I really do enjoy stand-up. From writing to rewriting to performing to rehearsing to listening to the tapes and saying, "What the hell was I thinking?" It's a process that I enjoy being one small part of.

Also it appears as if Doug is my key into show business. He's the Brian Epstein to my Beatles. The Colonel to my Elvis. The Doug Johnson to my Allen Strickland Williams.

Swine Flu and You...and Me

My hypochondriacal tendencies lead me to believe I will surely contract swine flu and die. However, I read that the virus is more dangerous to those with healthy immune systems. Needless to say I've been smoking more cigarettes these days. I've always been a proponent of preventative medicine.

I performed this weekend as part of Molly Harper's Nightcap. Molly is very funny and I really like her style of humor. She has a few good one-liners, and a nice sarcastic (some might say mean-spirited?) streak. I've seen her around town at open mics and I was really excited to be asked by her to perform on her show. There were some other great comics on the set too. Thai Rivera headlined, and he was as impressive as usual. He has a lot of good material (with a unique perspective and voice), that I find relatable and funny because he knows how to take it to the limit. His jokes are worded very well and the way he approaches jokes vis a vis talking to the audience is very engaging and almost confessional in a sense. I like seeing stand-up like that because it is so far removed from what I do. Matt Knudsen was the highlight of the night for me. Lot of good one-liners. Definitely check them both out on youtube.

My set went very well. I relied mostly on old, tested material, but I threw a few new things I've been trying recently into the mix. I would say there were no dead spots, and some of the old standbys got huge reactions. I had a ton of people there to see me, and I honestly felt like I did them proud. I haven't been able to perform in quite some time because of the hours of my new job, and it felt so cathartic to get on stage and tell my stupid jokes. I really missed it, even if when I'm doing it all I do is complain and wallow in my own misery. I like that sort of thing, you all know this. I felt so funny when I was on stage and it was one of the most positive visceral experiences in recent memory. Molly was impressed and expressed intention to book me again. Hope that works out.

I need to start fire-bombing people who have shows with my clips. Also, being a sociable and polite person could help as well.

I caught the bug this weekend so I made it out to a monthly show I used to do all the time in Santa Monica. It's at a very fratty bar called O'Brien's right on Main Street. It's a great venue, because there's a whole separate room where musicians and comedians can perform away from the bar itself. A guy that used to run an open mic I went to when I first moved out here now has a show, and he'll always invite me out. Because it's at a place like O'Brien's and because it's late on a Sunday night, everyone is drunk. I would say that every stand-up comic benefits from the audience being loose, but at a certain point it reaches critical mass and there's such a rift between performer and audience it's worthless. I went up there cynical about it, because I got slated to go on very late in the night, around 12:30am. However, I realized halfway through my set that not only were people laughing at jokes, but in between the jokes they were dead quiet. They were actually waiting and paying attention to what I had to say. Now, I didn't get the best laugh reactions from this particular audience. I was trying a lot of new stuff and I wasn't really selling my set either; I just wanted to perform to perform. But even though I wasn't knocking them dead, I was very happy with the simple fact that I had captivated a group of drunk assholes enough for them to calm down and shut the hell up. I'll take it.

I have footage from my last show. I'll post it whenever I'm not dead tired/drunk/asleep. That's a promise you can take to the bank.

Happy Valentime's!

Improv class went well today. I got lucky and for whatever reason in one of my scenes my partner and I hit upon something really funny, both saw the game of the scene immediately, and rode it out. It was funny and people laughed. In another scene I was in my partner and I had something funny going but, for whatever reason, I just found myself getting frustrated. In the scene I was playing a worker who was upset with his unsympathetic boss. However, I actually was getting upset and angry within the scene, and once that happened all I wanted was for the scene to be over. While this threw me off course and I could never get the scene going back in the right direction, it does make me feel optimistic about my improv performance because that shows I was reacting honestly to the situation I was in. Now I just need to figure out how to use that real energy in a funny way, instead of just jumping from funny thing to funny thing as I usually do.

One of the kids in my class has to work at the Cheesecake Factory today (Valentine's Day). I think that qualifies as a fate worse than death.

Meet me at C.G.I. Friday's

The title of this post is a joke of Mr. Blaine Capatch that still has me laughing after hearing it two days ago. Blaine hosted Maria Bamford's free weekly show "What's Up, Tigerlily?" this past Monday at Cuba Libre (Latin restaurant with great drink specials) in Vermont Village. It was a blast and I hope to make it to another show soon. I got to see Maria Bamford, Patton Oswalt, T.J. Miller and several other really funny comedians do their thing in a really cool venue with a good vibe. I do think the first comedian (Matt Peters?) got an unnecessarily cool response, but I thought he was funny. The best part was watching the comedians while they weren't on stage and while they were just sitting at the bar or at their respective tables. At one point I sat across from Patton at the bar and he just looked so tired and beaten down. Then he goes up on stage and delivers a brilliant set. That guy is really something special. Maria's table was near my seat at the bar and hearing her laugh was a real delight. I've always liked Patton, but I will admit it was really, really awesome to see Maria Bamford. I remember watching her and laughing way back in junior high. It's been a long time coming.

As usual when I see great comedians perform I am inspired to do stand-up as much as possible. After work yesterday I went to an open mic that I go to very irregularly. I don't know why, but this particular venue just gives me a serious case of the shakes. I get so nervous. I have come a long way with confidence on stage and ability to maintain composure, but for whatever reason going to this spot is like sailing into the Bermuda Triangle of comedy. I get lost in myself and the crowd. I think it's because it was one of the very first places I ever did stand-up and I was met with a big, positive reaction and the guys running the show encouraged me to come back and people came up after my set and said I did a great job. I came back the next week and to say I was met with a negative response wouldn't be appropriate. I was met with basically no response while on stage and then, as a consolation prize, I was handed snide comments by the show host after my set--which is fine. It happens. Since then I've gone whenever I really feel the need to get on stage and I know I won't be able to make it out to other spots during the week. Those two initial experiences, plus the overwhelming stench of Miserable Comedian and the clique culture omnipresent in the room have all consistently swayed me from performing there. Yeah, I know it's cowardly. However, while walking around for about thirty minutes trying to find my car because I'm a big fat stupid idiot I realized the only thing holding me back from feeling comfortable and good about my comedy was myself. It's a tough room, but it's not like I had a terrible set last night. I got a lot of huge laughs, and at one point someone was even yelling out for me to repeat a joke. (I didn't, because there's an old saying in show business: "Don't give the people what they want.") But, since I was trying some new stuff there were some dead spots, and even some of the old stuff I use as padding when I do open mics wasn't hitting at all. That's just the law of averages and the way it goes. I can't let myself be beaten down because of the wavering opinions of one or several assholes that don't think I'm funny/like me. There's an old saying I just made up, "You can't out-asshole an asshole." And I've been Number One Asshole around these parts for quite some time, and I think I'm going to have to put myself through hell once a week to remind myself of that. Here's to that.

I let the end of that last paragraph really get away from me, but I think I needed it to. My brain basically correlates to a binary system and thus so does my spectrum of self-evaluation. I can either beat myself down to a pulp (zero) or build myself up like the Colossus of Rhodes (one). I think this is partly why I do comedy the way I do. Piece by piece, joke by joke, hopefully condensed down to its purest form and most essential parts for maximum laugh efficiency. When people ask me what type of comedy I do, I've stopped listing other comedians or using fancy labels. I just say, "I tell fucking jokes."

In other news, it looks like I've booked a show later this month as part of Molly Harper's show "Night Cap" on February 22nd. It's part of the Los Angeles Comedy Festival, which is pretty cool. My mission--no notes on stage. That's what open mics are going to be about from now until then. And I mean it this time! Wish me luck.

Also, I'm starting UCB Improv 201 this weekend. It's a continuation of the class I took earlier. I really enjoyed the last class, and if this one is as half as fun it'll be a great thing to look forward to each week.

And we're back

I went to see Tom Lennon (Reno 911, The State) and friends at The Largo last night. Really awesome theater, there was a piano on stage and everything. Got to see the improv group Convoy perform, which was fun because one of the members was my Improv 101 teacher at UCB. It was also good to watch because, admittedly, the audience was not incredibly receptive and they just kept their cool and did their act and they were funny as always. Other highlights throughout the night were Nick Kroll, Rob Huebbel, and my new personal favorite, Jordan Rubin. I've only seen his set from last night and a short clip on Comedy Central, but I really liked his voice on stage and how you could tell he probably wasn't thrilled with his own performance, even though I and a few others were cackling. Again, I attribute this to the audience (I don't recall the woman next to me laughing throughout the entire show). At times I was so worn out from laughing I would hear a joke and in my head acknowledge the humor, but pass on actually laughing. It's good to have that self-consciousness about comedy. Also, Weird Al was in the row behind me and my friend and that made my night.

Yesterday when I got home from work I saw a girl with a huge box in the parking garage trying to get on the elevator. I offered to help her move the box and she was gracious. Then when I was getting off the elevator she asked, "Did you perform comedy last night at the Talking Stick?" I replied in the affirmitive, also adding how weird it was that two people from the building who didn't previously know each other (or anyone else in the building, for that matter) managed to be there, but we both knew people connected to the show so not all that crazy. The best part of this story wasn't that I made a potential friend in the building, but that that's all the girl said about seeing me at the show. Nothing about my act. No "you were funny." Just a simple validation that she had indeed seen me there. Anyway, my neuroses have had a fun time dealing with that one.

I had this thought while working on some jokes. "Anthropomorphism plays a huge role in my humor." I'm cognizant.

Too Tired to Blog

Here is a video of my most recent performance on January 11, 2009.



I wanted to write about my first trip to The Largo tonight, but I just got real tired and so I'll tackle that in the morning. This is my life.