CHRIS COEN

Well, time flies when you’re having fun…and you and your wife have a honeymoon baby show up before your first anniversary, but mine is coming up this weekend.  I’m talking about the real wedding anniversary, not that thing annoying new couples do like, “Hey this is our second month magic time remember party of when we went antiquing and kissed by the covered bridge and had ice cream and it was sunny!”  I am only surprised by the fact my wife hasn’t choked me to death or been committed.  She’s a strong woman.

I found out also that each anniversary has themes.  I had a pal have her five year recently and the gift is supposed to be wood.  Yes, there’s an obvious joke there, but other than a desk or big wooden spoon people put in their kitchen in the 50’s, it doesn’t sound very exciting.  Neither does the first – paper.

I mean let’s face it, I gave my wife a baby so she really has everything she wants – did a plate just fly over my head?  Never mind.  Does cash count?  The only other paper idea I can think of is to write, “YOUR A GOOD WIFE AND STUFF” down.  It is for our first anniversary, so I’ll have to use the good pens and crayons though.  I am sure she’ll love that – I really am good at this marriage thing.

Of course in all seriousness, it has been a wonderful year, from our honeymoon in Italy to finding out about our daughter’s arrival and then meeting her.  I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way with any other lady; I’m lucky to have in her in my life and will love her always.  She’s a perfect wife and mother.  Now I just need to find those crayons…

PS – of course the perfect paper gift would be a copy of my new book.  Pre-orders still available here: http://www.andthensomethinghappened.com/#!offerings/c1enr

My dog has the health of a leper rolled in anthrax and garbage.  He’s had hookworms, whipworms, a mast cell tumor, hip dysplasia, stitches, and currently takes nine pills every day.  Needless to say, if I can save a buck or two in vet bills, I jump on it.  WHERE’S THE UNIVERSAL HEALTHCARE FOR STRINGBEAN, OBAMA?

He has an ear infection so bad right now that his ears sound like ripe watermelons when you touch them.  I finally looked online and saw douche would help clean it up.  I went to the grocery store to search for something I’ve used in conversation 10,000 times, but in life never.

I was looking when a lady approached me.  “Can I help you?”  I realized the words that came out of my mouth were logjammed.  “Umm.  I need Massengill.  It’s for my dog.”  The lady stared at me.  I realized at that moment nothing could diminish the weirdness.  “We don’t carry that.”  I know lady, even if you did, I’m going somewhere else.

Pre-orders now available!  http://www.andthensomethinghappened.com/#!offerings/c1enr

My first book is now ready for pre-orders!  “Stuff to Read While You Shit” (or S#!t, for the purposes of not having a naughty word on my cover) is ready to roll.  I have to get some thanks out first of all.  Thanks to Bill Arrundale, Dan Swartwout and Rick Tempesta for the great blurbs/reviews, Laura Sanders for the amazing cover art, my wife Hope for the help with editing and of course Paul Fuhr at And Then Something Happened for doing the heavy lifting and unfun stuff that goes with books.  He came to me with the idea and after a lot of work was able to put together a nice presentation of my disorganized mess of writing.  NOW I’M IN YOUR BATHROOM, AMERICA!

I basically was able to write this book one blog post at a time…well, the good ones.  I was told I needed to get a website.  My buddy Todd DeHays has helped me with everything from the fun of dealing with hackers to site updates and changes.  Comedian Jake Iannarino told me one of the keys was to offer something of value to get traffic to your site.  So I started blogging five days a week because I didn’t want to make videos left and right.  I learned a lot early on – mostly, if you have nothing good or funny to blog about, just don’t do anything.  Also, keep after it.  There were a lot of times I wound up staring at a blank computer screen for over an hour before I got an idea to blather on about.  So that’s how this book was written; one chapter at a time, one show at a time, one horrible interaction with the human race at a time.  I’ll bet you 80% of the book was written after 10 pm the night before I released the attempts at humor or profundity to the internet.

Of course, I have a couple go to hells also.  The Ohio proficiency test writing portion said in 1996 I wasn’t a good enough writer to pass the test until my third try (looking at my title, maybe they were right) and of course to Ms. Bowen, my “gifted” class teacher in Indiana that once gave me an award for being “Least Elaborate”.  You can least elaborate my ass!  I wroted a reading story!  How’s that for original?  (It wasn’t very original, but least elaborate my ass anyway).

Oh, and for checking out my blog, enter “Freedom” for the special code to get 10% off on signed copies until this Sunday!  I hope you enjoy it, but if you don’t, I’ll still sleep OK.  Give me your money.

My wife’s high school crew stopped in to see the baby/watch the Ohio State game.  One of those happened.  I realized that my definition of party has now forever changed…but not in the ways I thought.  The first couple guests that showed up were immediately told the baby was sleeping, so we sat in the room and whispered for about 25 minutes.  Off to a crazy start!

At the end of the game, I had seen about twelve minutes of actual football.  There was icing on my door, half-full Capri Suns all over my house and underwear was left in the bathroom  Sounds chaotic, but then I realized this was about twice as good as an average party I used to have.  My buddy had a “party” at his parents’ house in college and someone puked on his door, there was ketchup on the ceiling from a condiment fight and a kid’s underwear is a lot better to deal with than anything a 20 year old drunk guy leaves there.

Also, when kids fight, no one goes to the emergency room or jail, except maybe the parents.  Lastly and most importantly, no kids steal your beer.  Well, not normally.  If they do, those pussies can drink one or two anyway, so you’re probably OK.

Let’s face it, being a parent is great.  You feel tremendous love that words truly can’t describe.  Love so strong it makes up for not sleeping, stress to the point of nervous breakdown, and the disappearance of all that is social interaction.  Even my DVR is so full right now it will take a month to clear it out if I just delete stuff, let alone watch the actual programs.

There are other benefits, though, I’ll explain.

1) You get to say things you always hated people for in the past.  I can’t wait to bust out a “DON’T TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY KIDS!” at a stranger in a grocery store.  It’s the most white trash thing you can say other than “NOT IN MY AMERICA!”  I know this, because I say it about 14 times a week myself.

1a) “You wouldn’t know, you don’t have kids.”  I bristle with anticipation dreaming of dropping this on people at a party when I can go to one in five years.  “Man, I’m busy.”  (I butt in) “Oh you have NOOOOO idea.  Wait until you have children!”  Then everyone makes that shut up, we get it face.

2) Never commit to anything ever again!  “Hey, can you volunteer for the”  NO!  I HAVE A KID NOW!  SEE YA!  But all we need is 22 seconds of your time (Fingers in ears) LALALALALALA I HAVE A KID NOW!

3) I can now drop Facebook hate on people for not liking my baby pictures.

4) Have an excuse for my fat, worthless body.  I don’t have time to workout, I’m a father!  “Are you drinking cheese?”  “YOU DON’T HAVE CHILDREN, YOU’LL NEVER UNDERSTAND!”  See how this works?

I did a show this past weekend during Independent’s Day Festival in Columbus.  It’s a grab bag of small business, booze, art and music where they block off the street and toss it all together.  Basically, it’s a great excuse for people to get drunk in the street.  I like it.

Good news – a lot of people at the show.  Bad news – a lot of people barge into the show, order a beer, yell randomness and leave.  It’s not unexpected, so at least you have that going for you.  I heard one comic lament asking for the crowd’s opinion as garbled nonsense was hollered from the back.  The only thing worse than being heckled is being heckled by a drunk mushmouth because you can’t formulate a decent counterattack when you hear what is either “Your mom is cheese!” or “Heyahfartensteinen!”

The other strange dynamic about that format – open to anyone – is the ebb and flow.  I got up to a smaller crowd, but the tables were completely full and engaged.  They paid enough attention to send up a shot when I announced I was a new father.  That’s a strange ritual that happens in comedy too sometimes.  I did a show in rural Michigan once and had four shots sent up in 30 minutes.  I asked the bartender if they kept a taxi on retainer for the comics.  “There ain’t no taxi in this town!”  I then asked if they got a kickback from DUI convictions on comedians.  She just giggled.  I drank water the rest of the show.