Author: Chris

Some may not remember, but it is the 20 year anniversary of Y2K, the (almost) greatest disaster in modern history…except for nothing happened. The hottest story of 1999 right up to the new year’s first minute was Y2K, unlike the year before, when the hottest story was you could play Prince’s Party like it’s 1999 on repeat (not a bad outcome, late 90’s pop was trash). Y2K was where some nerds realized that all the computer coding wasn’t set to handle the year changing from 1999 to 2000. Companies spent billions and billions, hired every computer programmer under the sun and were screaming from the street corners. Entire companies started up with the sole purpose of chaining programmers to the floor figuratively until they reprogrammed every computer they could find.

Why such a big deal? It was supposed to have the potential to wipe out everyone’s entire financial history as computers had just really replaced paper records. Missiles were in danger of being fired as nuclear failsafes were overcome by the glitch. Preppers bought food and water and even built “Y2K” shelters. Me? I was partying like it was 1999 (the song regained popularity as it was the last time you could party like it was 1999 vs. the first time the year before). When you’re in college and you have seven dollars in your account, you kind of don’t care about being wiped out financially. Plus the internet back then was nothing like today. Ask Jeeves and Netscape were bigger than Google, it took about 27 minutes to download a site, as opposed to the hours it took in 1994, but still awful, and Napster was the king of the internet until lawsuits knocked it into oblivion.

Midnight came and we went online to see the destruction and nothing happened. Nothing. Not one thing. Except that on January 1, 2000, we could no longer party like it was 1999. That was really sad. RIP 1999. Somehow, we had to trudge on in this wasteland, but only history will really see the impact. (Is that someone playing 1999 and saying this song is a millennium ago? Bad joke time and also not really correct as 2001 is the new century and millennium? It’s back baby!)

Being a father has meant a radical shift in Christmas; here’s what has changed.

1. Now I “have” to eat the Santa Cookies after the kids fall asleep. Sacrifices must be made. Basically, I eat them off a plate now instead the cooling rack.
2. Some assembly is required, aka, “Who in the f@#! designed this toy with that screwdriver/wrench/dinglehopper in mind?” Putting together my daughter’s bike took about 20 minutes, I thought it would take two.
3. Fun gift ratio is WAAAAAYYY lower the older you get. In fairness, I can probably buy whatever for myself would it kill any of you people to pull resources and get me a bald eagle? It’s been on my list for 22 years.
4. I have to wrap gifts now. The guilt finally got to me, but I wrap like Captain Hook after a bottle of Captain Morgan’s.
5. I actually initiate the Christmas music. I never thought this day would come. Side note: There are no modern remakes tolerated, even Wham’s Last Christmas will be played over Taylor Freakin’ Swift in this house. Bing, Burl, Cole, Williams and the like or GTFO.
6. Watching kids open presents (my daughter says “presidents” and it’s the best) is better than opening them. Unless there’s a bald eagle under the tree, then those little scamps better get out the way.

Top five worst things about Christmas:

5: Shopping for older relatives. “What do you need?” “Oh nothing.” “Great, thanks for the tip, since you literally own everything you’ve ever wanted in 54 years.”

4: Parking. It’s cold, it’s nuts and you don’t want to be there, but seven other numbnuts are driving in circles too, waiting to win the “I need something from the mall, too” lottery.

3: Bad Christmas music aka that dumb hippo song, Simply having a wonderful Christmastime and modern remakes. LEAVE NAT KING COLE ALONE TAYLOR SWIFT. PUT DOWN THE CHRISTMAS SONG AND BACK AWAY SLOWLY.

2: Traveling in bad weather with kids. Single Chris needs to travel in the snow and ice? Better grab a hat. With kids and family? 45 minutes of prep work just for boots and snacks.

1: When Christmas is on a Wednesday and it ruins your bonus day off work.

BEST FIVE:

5: Christmas cookies.

4: The food, usually. “Oh, no, don’t bother with that casserole, we have plenty to eat!” (If she brings that casserole, let the dog eat it off your plate when no one is looking. What do you mean the dog won’t eat it either?)

3: Good Christmas songs. Even the ones without words, like the Charlie Brown one. I love that song and if you disagree we will fight after school.

2: Seeing family. Bonus if your family pounds Old Milwaukee and gambles.

1: Watching kids open presents. This is the best and makes me feel like the Grinch when his heart grows. They usually meltdown later and cancel it out when they’re exhausted, but that’s what spiked Egg Nog is for, which is 1A.

About once a month anymore, I see some social media argument go viral and everyone vomits up someone else’s arguments until it gets personal. OK, maybe not everyone, but from what I’ve seen, this Michael Vick petition has now boiled down to 1) Michael Vick did his time and if you sign the petition, you’re racist or 2) Michael Vick should be executed for his actions in the dogfighting scandal and if you disagree, you endorse animal cruelty. You think I’m joking? Go for a walk in the comments of an article or post about him. If you haven’t heard, Vick has been selected by the NFL as a Pro Bowl Captain and people are outraged a convicted animal abuser is being allowed to take part in the event, so a popular online petition has been circulated to remove him.

One hot talking point currently is based in whataboutism. What is whataboutism? It’s ignoring someone’s actions or words by pointing to someone else’s actions or words. When I was a kid, I got a C on a math midterm and pointed out one of my friends got paid for A’s and B’s, so maybe I needed motivation. My motivation turned out to be getting my Nintendo removed for a month. I got an A that semester in math after that, but I had tried yelling what about that guy over there. Now, the converse is that a lot of people excuse bad behavior pointed out in whataboutism and this isn’t acceptable either. If the person you support did something the same or worse and you scream whataboutism, it’s a deflection, not a valid argument. For example, if you’re attacking a politician for being a sexist and a guy you like on other issues turns out to wife beater or sexual assaulter, you can’t scream whataboutism, you’re a hypocrite and a partisan. It can work both ways.

That said, the current argument is replete with the argument. One guy I’ve seen is attacking people who are attacking Vick by reposting other petitions and asking why people aren’t concerned about other cases and causes, like for example Brock Turner, the guy who raped a passed out girl and only got six months. Here’s my take: you can walk and chew gum at the same time. You can dislike Vick’s endorsement from the NFL and still be upset about the Amber Guyger slaying of an innocent man. You can detest dog abuse and still think Brock Turner is a scumbag who was let off way to lightly by a judge with absolutely terrible judgement. One thing I am very, extremely tired of in our modern society is that everyone thinks they are experts because they have the internet. “Well, I know everything about the Vick trial because I saw a picture of a dog who may not even have been Vick’s dog and I’m angry.” “Oh yeah? Well I know everything about Vick because I read an article saying he did his time. I didn’t read the trial transcript, don’t know him personally, etc., but I’m going to argue with you to the death.” She how both positions fall short of intelligent debate?

Vick was convicted and the things that happened on his property were abhorrent. He and his pals/associates bred dogs to fight to the point of maiming or death. Dogs were tortured for not winning or violently executed. Many had to be destroyed for their wounds or because they were too violently wired by the process that animal experts found they couldn’t be rehabbed. Did he serve his time? Yes. Did he lose a ton of money? Yes. Did he get to play in the NFL again? Yes. Is he free to do want he wants now? For the most part. The issue most people are having right now is with the NFL promoting him as an ambassador. Can he undo what he did? No, but it’s not like he stole a candy bar. Are there other people who have done worse? Absolutely, even in the NFL. Ray Rice lost his career, not when he punched his fiancee, but when the tape was leaked. People also need to realize this is a human reaction. Once we see videos or pictures, our rage is like a wildfire. It personalizes everything. You can’t unsee an image of a maimed dog. Dogs are also the most popular pet in America, by far. People who are outraged by the outrage need to realize that.

People also need to realize that there are horrific things that go on every day around the world. We only care about what the media tells us to be upset about, politicians can use to get our vote or what is promoted on a viral level. Do you ever see stories about human sex traffickers being arrested? I don’t. Anyone know how many sex offenders live in your neighborhood? Probably not – I don’t and I have kids, but every time a cop shooting takes place I see people take up arms on both sides. Anyone know who your state representatives are? Probably not. I’m told, however, how entire parties are the problem, not the people representing me. People with $1200 smartphones tweet how capitalism sucks. Politicians and actors flying first class or private planes tell me not to use plastic bags and straws to help the environment. People who aren’t sick or in the medical field tell me about my healthcare. The left tells me not to eat a chicken sandwich, then the right does. Everyone is a legal expert and then pukes back an article from some highly partisan website as proof. No, I think I’ll make my own opinion about Vick or whatever and I don’t need someone who knows as much or less than me screaming at me one way or another. Have something relevant? Happy to check it out when I have time and quite frankly, I don’t have much time. Make it worthwhile.

I think he’s a complete reprobate that is sorry only because he was caught and lost everything. I don’t think the NFL should be using him to change toilet paper rolls in the men’s room. He has to live his life though and the justice system that we have said he did his time. Don’t like it? Fill out a petition to increase the penalties for animal abuse. That will do more good than going after Vick. Honestly, though, I don’t care if someone signs the petition because what he did was vile…and yes, so are a lot of things. You can be mad about those also. If you are calling out the world for not caring about other petitions and did nothing to promote them, you’re not helping, you’re wasting everyone’s time.

When I started comedy, it was typical of most comics. I had a friend or two tell me I was funny, got talked into it and tried it out. I was awful. I mean awful. Not the worst, as I quickly found out, but pretty bad. The thing that made me better is that I realized it. I recorded almost every set, constantly rewrote jokes or scrapped bad ones altogether. Even with this self-awareness, I found myself after a couple of good nights thinking I was way better than I actually was. This is natural and easily the worst thing about comedy. It’s accessible to anyone, at least at a base level, who is willing to talk into a microphone. Want to be in a band? You at least have to invest in $500 or more in equipment and get with a few others and practice. Want to act? You have to audition. Want to tell jokes? You have to find an open mic and write your name down. It encourages a lot of no talent losers and frankly, out and out psychopaths.

I was pretty cocky the first time I got into a comedy contest. I had killer sets and got to the finals. I was sure I had a chance to win, but the crowd was sold out, markedly older and I drew the dreaded first spot. I bombed. I should have known, the host, a touring comic with over a decade of experience was struggling. The crowd was there for one comic only, but I did no favors to myself and left the stage like I got my ass kicked. I worked hard, cleaned up my set and wrote more jokes. The next year, I won the same contest. After I won, a local guy who had been performing less than a few months was black out drunk and trying to fight the staff of the Funny Bone. His white trash mom was screaming, “I know a lawyer! I’m going to sue your asses!” Yes, that sounds like a solid case. “As you can see clearly, the Laffometer had the highest reading for my client.” Even though he apologized a week later, he was done. He never did stand-up again, at least not in this city.

Having done stand-up for over a decade and having both success and failure, I can say it’s mostly my fault (or to my credit) for everything, good or bad. I got to work with a popular hypnotist named J Medicine Hat several times. One thing I noticed was that he was pissed off and critical of himself after every show, even if it went well. I have noticed this in successful comics. Most garbage comics are the exact opposite. They never learn, they just genuflect and blame the crowd, the venue or some bizarre apparition no one can see but them.

I will say, the reciprocation of booking is terrible, worse than it ever has been. Comedy cliques are definitely a thing and it’s tied as much to social media as real life. I’ve worked people and noticed they keep booking their friends over and over…which is their option if they want to do that. All these can be discouraging, but I would suggest to any comic who feels “disrespected” I would run down this list for you. 1) Why don’t you start your own show? 2) Are you funny? I mean like go into a cold room outside your comfort zone and make people laugh? Do you record your sets so you can actually hear laughter or the absence thereof? 3) Do you actually ask to be on shows? If so, can you ask for feedback if they don’t use you and not lose your mind about what you hear? If no to any of the above questions, then work on your act (or yourself) before you go on conspiracy rants about all the people out to get you. Or get help. From the comics I’ve met, that covers a pretty big chunk.

No one books a comic who is a problem. If you get black out drunk, are continually late, talk shit about the venue or other performers, fight the crowd, or refuse to promote the show (I could do a book on that), the person or business booking the room has no use for you. There’s someone else who won’t do that and is just as funny or at least is close enough and won’t cause the booker an ulcer. A wise man or rapper or someone once said, “Check yo self before you wreck you self.” Of course, the people that need to read this won’t or will get mad and personalize it, so I may as well piss into the wind, but oh well.

I was reminded of a few stories recently from a group text. When I was in college, I lived with 33 other guys in a fraternity house. You can imagine what the result was. Here are a few highlights.

One of my brothers had a final, which was still not a good enough reason for two rather sauced up brothers for him not to have beer with them. So, they decided to grab him sometime around 3-6 am, give or take, and handcuff him to a toilet, cover him in shaving cream and aftershave, then turn all the showers on hot. I found him about 8 am. He said, “I’m not even angry anymore, I just want out.” The keys were found, but he was late for his final. He walked into class, still covered in men’s hygiene products and sweaty. His professor looked up, “Want to take the final tomorrow?” “Yes.” He walked out. I think he passed.

One time I had, um, fallen asleep and awoke to a shop vac turned on full blast and afixed to my groin. In the struggle that ensued, I lost my undergarments but broke free. I grabbed a handful of darts off the door and took out the lead antagonist with a fastball dart that embedded into his hamstring. He tumbled down the stairs and we called it even.

Multiple times people got “pennied” or “coined” into their rooms. That’s where you stack coins into someone’s door so that when they try to open them, the coins create a wedge that prevents the door from being opened. One time an incident like this led to an axe being used to chop a hole into said door, but I really wasn’t too close. When someone is angry and swinging like Paul Bunyan, you go party elsewhere.

The worst was a markering. One young man decided to drink copious amounts of whiskey and filled the stereotype to a tee. He was obnoxious and berating everyone, but made one fatal flaw – he passed out first and with his shoes on. “Die with your boots on” is one of favorite Iron Maiden songs, but anyone with shoes on was open game. He was decorated with a Magnum 44 sharpie that had a tip thicker than my index finger. Every part of his body was markered up, and I mean every part. Scrotum, teeth (not in that order) and inside his ears. Around 6 am I heard a guttural scream, “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!” I jumped up and locked my door and heard doors being kicked and punched. Then it was quiet. The ink was so thick, he drove 2 hours to his parents’ house. I later found gasoline was required to remove it all. Best part is we were watching the video tape of the crime from the night before on the house television when he returned eight hours later. He was glowing pink from the gas on his skin and still very angry, even more so when he saw what we were doing. He said nothing, but ripped the tape out and stomped it into pieces and went to his room. Just another Sunday.