CHRIS COEN

I got done with the first show Friday and went back to the hotel.  The good news for me was that I didn’t have to travel to get to the next show, it was at the same club.  Gas is the number one enemy of comedians.  If comedians invaded the Middle East, the blood would run deep for all the hatred of the money lost traveling.  It would resemble the sieges of Tamerlane.  I’m a history nerd and no one will get that reference, plus comedians would fight like Lamar from the Revenge of the Nerds movies.  Is that a better analogy?  Get some, OPEC!  Slappity slap!  (Followed by crying)

I didn’t want to turn in early, mostly because I knew my Saturday would involve sitting in the hotel talking to myself until I went nuts.  Luckily, this bar was attached to my hotel.

That’s right.  Coyote Ugly meets Inbred Fred’s.  I went in and saw more slutty farm girls than the last time I went to the Coen family reunion in Mobley, West Virginia.  Then this happened – one of the bartenders started spanking a female patron over a barbershop chair.  Nothing like faux lesbianism to excite the masses!  I looked around and realized with this many drunk dudes and scantily clad ladies, I was probably going to get beat up in four and half minutes just standing there, so I slugged my beer and left.  The downside to comedy is having to hang out alone or a place like this which screams “Hey, I haven’t been arrested recently.”  I was a cranky 23 year old, you can bet I have no patience for club scenes now, whether country, techno, or rollerskating disco rinks.  Back to the hotel to enjoy a conversation with myself!

 

Off to the next one…  I loaded up my shit and dropped my dog at Mom’s house, then faced a lovely six hour drive through the great state of Pennsylvania, the Montana of the east.  I had to hit the turnpike, which cost me about $15 in tolls one way.  Nothing like paying to drive on a pothole filled highway.  Thanks, PA, your roads and beer laws suck.  What kind of state doesn’t sell beer at gas stations?  What is this, 1887?

I got to the motel and surprise!!! they had no room for me.  Luckily, the dude working knew the club owner and hooked me up.  I drove a while and since the sun now goes down at around 4 pm, I was ready to snap, especially since I called yesterday and they told me it was all good.  How dare I demand a room?  What a diva I am.

The club was cool and the crowd was big, so my rage was sated.  I had about five people tell me that I was funny.  Nice.  Then I went to take a leak and two gentlemen (cough) were at the stalls.  I walked into the stall and overhead this nugget – “That first guy was whack!”  “Yeah, he’s supposed to be average so the headliner is funny.”  I almost said something, but held back.  I really showed them later when I sold one DVD after the show and got a free shot of Beam.  (That’s sarcasm!)  Night one in the books, yay comedy time.

Sometimes I have to blog about things that aren’t funny.  I wish our country took this holiday more seriously.  Our country was founded, with a third still passionately loyal to the crown, by patriots who had had enough with England’s oppression and taxation.  It would never have happened without our soldiers.  Racked with disease, wrapping their unshod feet with rags, not being paid, several men banded together under the great Washington, they fought under the reality of being hung as traitors to the crown.

Since then, men in the Civil War fought to preserve the Union and later to free all men in the country, even running backwards to avoid being shot in the back during orders to retreat.  Warriors to end, choosing honor over their own safety.  I look at pictures of doughboys and WW2 vets before the war, then afterwards with the thousand year stare that comes with having to see other men fall, both ally and foe.  My own father was a forward observer in Vietnam for the 101st Airborne.  Due to clerical bullshit, he still hasn’t received his medals thanks to bureaucratic mistakes and paperwork.

I suggest you read about the Medal of Honor winners and individual combat stories and dare you not to be moved to your core reading about the raw bravery and self-sacrifice.  The innocence lost forever, for us, for the principles of freedom.  The history of the world is one of tyranny and oppression, yet in this nation, we have thousands of heroes that have died or been mauled for life physically and emotionally; standing up to kings, dictators, despots and even mass murders.  Our government orders these men to their doom as the horrors of PTSD and post war life take their toll.  They carry on, the horrors of war haunt them for their sacrifices.  So we have a holiday for them.  We can do more.  I encourage everyone to do all they can.  Check out www.woundedwarriorproject.org, the USO, or other ways to say thanks and lend a hand.  It is the least we can do.  God bless America and our vets.

The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.
Douglas MacArthur

I got a new bed recently and dumped the old one.  My dog hates it because he can’t jump on it, which means I love not scraping dog hair off myself all night.  Sorry, Bean, I win this round.

In cleaning and moving some stuff around during this process, I found my old HVAC training books from when I sold heating/air conditioning units.  Ah, yes, the memories of getting let go five months after starting.  My knowledge of heating now is limited to “I hope my neighbors turn up their heat so I don’t have to!”

I also found a collage my Mom put together for my college graduation.  I used to wear a hat I think even when I slept.  Then I realized I have stunningly thick, wavy hair.  It is a terrible burden, having this beautiful bounty of hair.  Good bye hats.  Hello follicle transplant surgery in approximately three to six years if Rogaine doesn’t work.

Funny election day story.  I talked to my buddy, a blue collar guy, this morning.  He is a dyed in the wool Democrat, so every conversation for the last month has been about how evil Mitt Romney is.  Needless to say, a little repetitive, but whatever.  He was ranting about how some of the hillbillies he works with are voting for Romney, as he said “probably because they have no teeth.”  I laughed.  One, because he was so passionate.  Two, because he is missing a tooth.

Ah, it’s finally here.  The day we, as a country select our next leader, who we will besmirch, lambaste, and decry for at least four years.  Sadly, probably with good reason.  George Washington set a fine precedent for our country by rejecting political parties, ending his presidency after two terms, and returning the power of office effortlessly.  Then Adams and Jefferson middle fingered that and tore each other to shreds.  My favorite was when the Jefferson camp called Adams a hermaphrodite.  The good old days.

My favorite part of electing these wonderful piles of shit we call politicians is that our founders at least made it harder than hell for these idiots to get much done.  If you think our government should be able to pass laws and rules faster, imagine the other party in full control.  Exactly.  That’s why.  Either way, I have begun preparing for the Commie invasion by watching Red Dawn and stocking up on canned goods (they had a sale at Kroger).  So while you’re wondering about the future of our great country, I’ll be dreaming of pistol whipping a pinko to the smooth listening sounds of Lee Greenwood.