I had a couple shows Saturday that hit the wide range of the comedy scale. Show one was hosted by my pal Sumukh Torgalkar – he came up with the idea to dress like a ref and have a “Laugh Rumble” with what turned out to be 18 comedians. The five minute mark was marked by an air horn, then the next comic ran up to tag in. I debated doing a character, but I’m lazy and didn’t have any (thankfully) wrestling tights laying around the house. Nick Glaser went Hacksaw Jim Duggan with the American flag and a 2×4 and Dustin Meadows used a belt as an assault weapon and chugged a beer, ala Stone Cold. If they combined those characters, the patriotism and masculinity might have created an explosion. Close one, America. Close one.
I then rolled down to a comedy/burlesque show. In terms of theatrics, probably even more grandiose. There was fire, costumes and dancing – the comics brought only jokes about alcoholism and genitals, but it’s for the best there is no crossover. Most comics can only model for police lineups or before pictures. I never knew until the show that there were male burlesque dancers. Now I can never unlearn that, because I saw it and it’s burned into my cortex. Thankfully, as I type this, the Grammy awards are on. The combination of stuttering presenters and 75 year old musicians trying to stay relevant are doing their damnedest to wipe away my entire weekend’s memories though. If they let Yoko Ono sing, it may work.