I'm thankful today for all of my friends and family. I'm really REALLY lucky.
In about 10 minutes I'll be in the car enjoying Alice's Restaurant on the radio. Every year it's 18 of the happiest minutes of the entire year for me. You can check it out here: http://www.rhapsody.com/arlo-guthrie/alices-restaurant--1967
Yes sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie. I put that envelope under that garbage.
Today, of all days, be good to each other. And thank you all.
John
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Kevin Knox and The Battle at Kruger
Stop whatever you're doing right now and think about the nicest person you know. And I mean really think about them. Think about the fact that every time you see them, they're genuinely happy to see you and they're doling out bucket after bucket of kindness to you and the rest of the people around them. Like a disaster relief worker or something. Think about how well they always (really always) treat other people and how everyone who knows them absolutely loves them and never has an unkind word about them.
Now stop and think about how many people in your life that actually fall into that category. Loved by all who know them. Humble. Endlessly kind. Always willing to help or to dispense advice or do whatever it takes to help you and all of those around you. Now add in the fact that, on top of all of that, they're also one of the funniest people you know. Now hold that thought.
On Boylston Street in Boston there was (or maybe there still is) a Chinese restaurant called Jae's and inside there they had a comedy club called "Steve Sweeney's Comedy Cafe". And yes, it's THAT Steve Sweeney. Anyway, one night (I had maybe been doing comedy for two years or so), I was working the door at Dick's Beantown Comedy Vault which is just down the street and we only had two guests show up. The show was cancelled and the other comics suggested we head over to Jae's to catch some of our buddies who were booked on the show.
Now, let me emphasize this lineup. I won't mention any names, but the lineup was probably the best in Boston that night. You had a Boston legend hosting the show and two feature acts that were going on before the headliner. The host and both features are three guys who I still work with from time to time and they are all hysterical comics. Really good at what they do and really REALLY funny. Having only done shows where I had to work for stage time or bring guests to get on, I remember sitting off to the side and thinking "Wow, this is what it's like to work for real. These guys are all incredible. This is going to be insane!"
Now, if you replace the word "insane" with the hyphenated word "horrendously-uncomfortable", then you would be accurately describing most of this show.
I had never seen a professional comic eat it before, but as it turns out, it was Old Country Buffet night at Jae's. The host ate it. Absolutely all of it. Nobody was having any of his material whatsoever. But, like a great comic does when people aren't having his set, he just plowed through and kept the show moving. The first feature went up and ate it worse than the host did. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. These were great comedians and nobody was having ANY of it. It was a horror show. The host brought on the second feature and that poor guy ate it so badly that he joked that someone should throw something at him to put him out of his misery. Someone kindly obliged and a water glass shattered on the stage floor at his feet. Classy. I just remember wondering to myself, "Do these people laugh at anything? These guys are awesome. How the hell can people NOT be laughing?"
So that was the show. Host. Dead. Feature. Dead. Second feature. Really dead. And the crowd showed absolutely no signs of their comedy bloodlust being quenched. I didn't even know what to think. These were three guys I found hilarious and really looked up to and they all died very horrible comedy deaths. I again wondered about the crowd. "Do they hate laughing? Why did they even come to this show?" Just bitter, acidic, annoyed, spiteful, hateful people. And by this point it was very clear that they all wanted vengeance for having paid admission.
I was sitting there wondering how the hell the headliner was going to do at least 45 minutes of material in front of these people. It was going to be an eternity for this poor bastard. I was uncomfortable just sitting there watching, actually happy that I didn't have to perform. It was like watching someone get hit by a car. You know it's coming, but you can't even react. You just stand there and watch in horror as the person is wiped clean off the face of the Earth. The host called him up and I just watched him make the march toward the stage. Dead man walking.
"Good luck, dude. I'm glad I'm not you right now."
Ever seen something so ridiculous that you don't believe it when you see it? For instance, if you have 8 spare minutes and love animal kingdom footage, go on YouTube and check out a video called Battle at Kruger. It's nothing short of incredible. I don't mean to spoil it, but it's footage that a British (maybe Australian) safari enthusiast shot of a pack of Cape Buffalo being chased by a pride of lions. The lions end up chasing down a calf and tackling it on the river bank. They swarm all over it and just start biting and clawing and wrestling it down. Then a crocodile is kind enough to show up, grab the calf by the leg, and get into a tug of war match with the lions where they use the calf as the rope. The lions fight off the croc and then go back to their swarming move. So the calf was gang beaten by lions, attacked by a crocodile while the gang beating was happening, then the croc left and the calf had to endure some more gang beating sans croc. The entire time all you can think about (and yes I KNOW the lions have to eat and it's all part of nature, I know that) is how badly you feel for the calf. I mean, it's murder. Sure you're watching the circle of life, but part of it is murder. And it's horrible. Makes you feel kinda guilty for every steak you've ever eaten. Eh. I digress.
Suddenly, the entire herd of buffalo appear and create a perimeter around the lions. There are probably 5-7 lions and about 25-40 buffalo. And then the buffalo "Oh yeah?" begins. They pick off one lion and send her scrambling. The second one gets hoisted into the air and is sent running. Then another. And another. Running for their lives. And then finally, after 7 minutes of complete and total brutality, they charge at the remaining lions, loosen their grip, and they save the calf. And somehow, it's still alive. Despite everything you anticipated, the calf is alive and well and you just sit there and go, "How the FUCK did that thing survive?" And it's amazing. It's amazing because that's what we love to see as human beings. We love to see people (in this case some buffalo) who are hanging by a thread, pull themselves back from the brink, stand back up on their own two feet, and start swinging again as if they have nothing left to lose. And that was exactly what happened that night on Boylston St. Just when you thought that hope was lost and that the darkness was soon to come, an entire herd of Cape Buffalo stormed the stage and brought the fucking house down. And on that night, the herd of Buffalo went by the name of Kevin Knox.
Knoxie hit the stage and the crowd falling apart in less than10 seconds. He was loud. He was high energy. He was balls to the wall. The material came like an onslaught of f-bomb laden Star Wars laser fire. And the crowd absolutely LOVED it. And he just kept getting stronger and stronger. I realized about 15 minutes into his set that the crowd hadn't stopped laughing the ENTIRE time he had been on stage. And they didn't stop for the entire set. He absolutely crushed at a level I had never seen a comic perform at in real life before. On TV, sure maybe I'd seen it, but never in person. He was unstoppable, hysterical, and incredible. And he had saved the show.
A comedy career is something that always makes for stories. A lot of them are bad and are all about how crazy someone was or how crazy a crowd was, but I have always remembered that night over my years in comedy. It quite literally went from the worst show I'd ever seen, to one of the best I'd ever been lucky enough to witness. A comedian took a crowd full of angry people and made them laugh themselves sick and it was one of the most brilliant performances I've ever seen in any aspect my life. And it came from a guy (remember how I told you to hold that thought?) who was one of the nicest people I've met in the world of standup comedy. He's definitely on the John Porch's Top 10 Nicest People of All Time list. And I will go on record right now and profess how terribly terribly sad I was to hear that he passed away on Monday (11/16/2009) after a long and courageous battle with melanoma.
I didn't know him very well, but in the few instances I was fortunate enough to work with him, all I can tell you is that he was an incredible guy. Always happy and polite and willing to help and dispense advice and do whatever he could to make sure you were in a better place. All the while (and completely unbeknownst to me) he was fighting off cancer. On top all of that, he really was a fantastic comedian. Honestly, I don't feel like my description does him even a microscopic justice, but that is how I always looked at him.
Despite the f-bombs, the guy was of the highest class and caliber. If I can be half the comedian and one tenth of the person that he was, I'll die happy and proud.
Thank you, Knoxie. I'll never forget you nor will I ever forget the night you showed up at Jae's and brought the house down. That was the night where, in my book, you went from comedian to super hero in 45 minutes.
And as you always do, you save the best for last. Ladies and gentlemen, one more time for Kevin Knox.
Now stop and think about how many people in your life that actually fall into that category. Loved by all who know them. Humble. Endlessly kind. Always willing to help or to dispense advice or do whatever it takes to help you and all of those around you. Now add in the fact that, on top of all of that, they're also one of the funniest people you know. Now hold that thought.
On Boylston Street in Boston there was (or maybe there still is) a Chinese restaurant called Jae's and inside there they had a comedy club called "Steve Sweeney's Comedy Cafe". And yes, it's THAT Steve Sweeney. Anyway, one night (I had maybe been doing comedy for two years or so), I was working the door at Dick's Beantown Comedy Vault which is just down the street and we only had two guests show up. The show was cancelled and the other comics suggested we head over to Jae's to catch some of our buddies who were booked on the show.
Now, let me emphasize this lineup. I won't mention any names, but the lineup was probably the best in Boston that night. You had a Boston legend hosting the show and two feature acts that were going on before the headliner. The host and both features are three guys who I still work with from time to time and they are all hysterical comics. Really good at what they do and really REALLY funny. Having only done shows where I had to work for stage time or bring guests to get on, I remember sitting off to the side and thinking "Wow, this is what it's like to work for real. These guys are all incredible. This is going to be insane!"
Now, if you replace the word "insane" with the hyphenated word "horrendously-uncomfortable", then you would be accurately describing most of this show.
I had never seen a professional comic eat it before, but as it turns out, it was Old Country Buffet night at Jae's. The host ate it. Absolutely all of it. Nobody was having any of his material whatsoever. But, like a great comic does when people aren't having his set, he just plowed through and kept the show moving. The first feature went up and ate it worse than the host did. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. These were great comedians and nobody was having ANY of it. It was a horror show. The host brought on the second feature and that poor guy ate it so badly that he joked that someone should throw something at him to put him out of his misery. Someone kindly obliged and a water glass shattered on the stage floor at his feet. Classy. I just remember wondering to myself, "Do these people laugh at anything? These guys are awesome. How the hell can people NOT be laughing?"
So that was the show. Host. Dead. Feature. Dead. Second feature. Really dead. And the crowd showed absolutely no signs of their comedy bloodlust being quenched. I didn't even know what to think. These were three guys I found hilarious and really looked up to and they all died very horrible comedy deaths. I again wondered about the crowd. "Do they hate laughing? Why did they even come to this show?" Just bitter, acidic, annoyed, spiteful, hateful people. And by this point it was very clear that they all wanted vengeance for having paid admission.
I was sitting there wondering how the hell the headliner was going to do at least 45 minutes of material in front of these people. It was going to be an eternity for this poor bastard. I was uncomfortable just sitting there watching, actually happy that I didn't have to perform. It was like watching someone get hit by a car. You know it's coming, but you can't even react. You just stand there and watch in horror as the person is wiped clean off the face of the Earth. The host called him up and I just watched him make the march toward the stage. Dead man walking.
"Good luck, dude. I'm glad I'm not you right now."
Ever seen something so ridiculous that you don't believe it when you see it? For instance, if you have 8 spare minutes and love animal kingdom footage, go on YouTube and check out a video called Battle at Kruger. It's nothing short of incredible. I don't mean to spoil it, but it's footage that a British (maybe Australian) safari enthusiast shot of a pack of Cape Buffalo being chased by a pride of lions. The lions end up chasing down a calf and tackling it on the river bank. They swarm all over it and just start biting and clawing and wrestling it down. Then a crocodile is kind enough to show up, grab the calf by the leg, and get into a tug of war match with the lions where they use the calf as the rope. The lions fight off the croc and then go back to their swarming move. So the calf was gang beaten by lions, attacked by a crocodile while the gang beating was happening, then the croc left and the calf had to endure some more gang beating sans croc. The entire time all you can think about (and yes I KNOW the lions have to eat and it's all part of nature, I know that) is how badly you feel for the calf. I mean, it's murder. Sure you're watching the circle of life, but part of it is murder. And it's horrible. Makes you feel kinda guilty for every steak you've ever eaten. Eh. I digress.
Suddenly, the entire herd of buffalo appear and create a perimeter around the lions. There are probably 5-7 lions and about 25-40 buffalo. And then the buffalo "Oh yeah?" begins. They pick off one lion and send her scrambling. The second one gets hoisted into the air and is sent running. Then another. And another. Running for their lives. And then finally, after 7 minutes of complete and total brutality, they charge at the remaining lions, loosen their grip, and they save the calf. And somehow, it's still alive. Despite everything you anticipated, the calf is alive and well and you just sit there and go, "How the FUCK did that thing survive?" And it's amazing. It's amazing because that's what we love to see as human beings. We love to see people (in this case some buffalo) who are hanging by a thread, pull themselves back from the brink, stand back up on their own two feet, and start swinging again as if they have nothing left to lose. And that was exactly what happened that night on Boylston St. Just when you thought that hope was lost and that the darkness was soon to come, an entire herd of Cape Buffalo stormed the stage and brought the fucking house down. And on that night, the herd of Buffalo went by the name of Kevin Knox.
Knoxie hit the stage and the crowd falling apart in less than10 seconds. He was loud. He was high energy. He was balls to the wall. The material came like an onslaught of f-bomb laden Star Wars laser fire. And the crowd absolutely LOVED it. And he just kept getting stronger and stronger. I realized about 15 minutes into his set that the crowd hadn't stopped laughing the ENTIRE time he had been on stage. And they didn't stop for the entire set. He absolutely crushed at a level I had never seen a comic perform at in real life before. On TV, sure maybe I'd seen it, but never in person. He was unstoppable, hysterical, and incredible. And he had saved the show.
A comedy career is something that always makes for stories. A lot of them are bad and are all about how crazy someone was or how crazy a crowd was, but I have always remembered that night over my years in comedy. It quite literally went from the worst show I'd ever seen, to one of the best I'd ever been lucky enough to witness. A comedian took a crowd full of angry people and made them laugh themselves sick and it was one of the most brilliant performances I've ever seen in any aspect my life. And it came from a guy (remember how I told you to hold that thought?) who was one of the nicest people I've met in the world of standup comedy. He's definitely on the John Porch's Top 10 Nicest People of All Time list. And I will go on record right now and profess how terribly terribly sad I was to hear that he passed away on Monday (11/16/2009) after a long and courageous battle with melanoma.
I didn't know him very well, but in the few instances I was fortunate enough to work with him, all I can tell you is that he was an incredible guy. Always happy and polite and willing to help and dispense advice and do whatever he could to make sure you were in a better place. All the while (and completely unbeknownst to me) he was fighting off cancer. On top all of that, he really was a fantastic comedian. Honestly, I don't feel like my description does him even a microscopic justice, but that is how I always looked at him.
Despite the f-bombs, the guy was of the highest class and caliber. If I can be half the comedian and one tenth of the person that he was, I'll die happy and proud.
Thank you, Knoxie. I'll never forget you nor will I ever forget the night you showed up at Jae's and brought the house down. That was the night where, in my book, you went from comedian to super hero in 45 minutes.
And as you always do, you save the best for last. Ladies and gentlemen, one more time for Kevin Knox.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
It's Been Awhile
Sorry that The Daily Minefield hasn't seen much activity lately. I've had a lot going on and I've been neglecting the site. I'll make some more updates soon, but for now, just enjoy this clip of Pearl Jam covering Devo on Halloween at the Wachovia Spectrum in Philadelphia. I was fortunate enough to be there on Halloween and the boys were closing out the venue. It was a hell of a show.
See you all soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)