Last Penguin Standing

You know, I can't help feel blessed and cursed by the whole process.

Blessed that I got to see people going through the same things I was going through. People I admire in the SF Comedy Scene: Mary Van Note, Aundre the Wonderwoman, Joe Klocek, Sal Calanni, Uncle Howard, Candy Churilla...the list is long. As much as I feel like an outsider, as I am relatively new to the scene, I felt a sense of community. A sense of REALITY, as opposed to Reality TV. Real people, with real talent, extremely creative souls, who sweat it out at big and small shows, trying to make people laugh, waiting, waiting, waiting for their shot at the stage, for a chance to be on TV. Why not. What do you have to lose? You don't play, you can't win. At least that was my rationale.

I knew that waiting in line wasn't the game for me. I read all the blogs of other people auditioning and the message seemed clear, waiting in line wasn't going to get you any closer to an actual audition.

So, I bit at the Craigslist bait, of Be Wacky..........was it selling out, who knows. I think you have to actually get something to sell out. I was in it for the ride.

I contacted casting agent Ashton Ramsey, who actually got in touch with me via email and phone. I needed a gimmick.

My buddy told me that he had a penguin suit. Ashton said that would work great.

My buddy neglected to tell me that that suit was marred with gang graffiti, was ragged, smelled of stale beer and was found in a dumpster. I drove all night before the 8:30am audition Ashton had given me to obtain said smelly, weird penguin suit and retrieved it at 5am at the Nut Tree in Vacaville.

Nutty, indeed.

I was busy trying to figure out how to take my act, which I kinda like, and push it through the Penguins voice, when I found myself in the basement of Cobbs, surrounded like a 2008 remake of the movie Freaks. I signed contracts that said that my image, likeness, comedy etc... would be the property of NBC to splice, repackage and do with as they please. I couldn't run for political office for a year after the show airs (if I got on). Nor could I sue anyone if I was offended by anything any comic would say in my direction. There was much legalese, but it was a corporate contract and I saw no one question any of it.....hmmm. Robert Johnson at the crossroads came to mind, but I signed.

Donny Salami "The Ladies Man" sat next to me who saw the ad on Craigslist, Donny had no act, and intended to improvise, mainly by pulling out his salami. He made me laugh, but I thought him crazy for not being prepared. Looking back on it, his approach actually made sense. It was fun seeing the other weirdos in the basement, I enjoyed everyone's craziness!!

Like many of the comics I saw waiting, most of the day was waiting, I was running my act around my brain like a hamster in a cage. Round and round and round and round. Bad idea.

I came back at 2 and here's where the day began to feel cursed.

Alongside a line of 50 or so comics we were led conga style through the kitchen of Cobbs. Actually in the Kitchen! Where we waited for an hour and a half. Nobody was offered water, a place to sit if needed, and less information than on an episode of Lost. Like an episode of Lost, I was trying to find clues as to what lay ahead. A signpost, cryptic numbers, a polar bear......anything.

Why wouldn't a TV show, that wants good viewing, attempt to somehow ease the comics minds to perhaps allow them to be NOT completely stressed by the mechanistic robotic...like cows waiting for slaughter.....process that LCS has developed? I'm not talking backrubs, but something not so numbing!!

OK, OK, yes if I was a professional, or a master of Zen, maybe I could wait for 90 minutes, surrounded by people completely losing any semblance of cool, without being affected by it. But I'm not. I was just a dude in a smelly penguin suit.

Idea?

Let us view whats happening on stage, so we can be better prepared for what lays ahead. Let us see if the person(s) who went before us, snapped on the judges and chewed their heads off (which is what I think happened before me). GIVE US SOMETHING, WE ARE COMICS, IF YOU TICKLE US DO WE NOT LAUGH?

Don't they want us to be the best we can be? This is rhetorical.....

I hit the stage, and who knows what happened. I was judged. It seemed like, the guy from Chuck kinda liked me, and the French Stewart guy didn't. Or maybe it was that my costume looked like I was a bum penguin. Or maybe it was that I spewed out my material too loud and fast, as I am prone to do when stressed. Or maybe.............as comics, you know that the internal list goes on.....long into the night.

As is I am on my 23rd hour with no sleep. Wondering why after being rejected I still did two more interviews with LCS ( WHAT WAS WITH THAT BOOTH). Wondering why it seemed so unorganized. Ashton, Sunny and Hannah were very nice.......but WTF.

I'm over my I hate French Stewart phase, I judged him and his career all the way home. And now I just blame myself for not being able to bring my "A" game, or having the state of mind to just say hello and be real....instead of the pressure I felt to perform. Pressure that I created in my own head........the internal critic is far harsher than Harry from 3rd Rock.


I feel bad for some comic friends who had even worse experiences that I did.

I'm glad I did it. Really have no regrets, besides wishing I could have another crack at the stage time. Delirium is approaching final stages. Started smoking again. How can I get to Tennessee for one more shot? The judges are from Cheers. I loved Cheers, the early years.

Do they really make people wait all night long in the fog just so they can have a morning shot of them around the club? Rhetorical. Can't they CGI that shit in?

I am yours SF Comedy scene, you have won my heart, by showing me that you have balls, ovaries, gumption and soul.

See you on stage soon.

DNA
http://www.votedna.com

See Photos at

http://www.sfstandup.com/blog/2008/03/03/last-comic-standing-audition-by-dna/