In the Market for a Holiday

It's that magical time of the year, when early December isn't winter but it might as well be. Also, outdoor holiday markets are hot! (I mean, they are cold because they are outside, but they are hot, in the metaphorical sense.) Now, I love a good holiday market. One can never have too many chatchkies. Unless you're me, in which case you can have too many chatchkies. But it's fine because I put most of them on my shelves and I leave the rest under the windows like Kevin McAllister in home alone, to deter any bad guys from climbing up to the sixth floor and breaking into the apartment (wait, maybe I'm a hoarder?!) It stands to reason that I've been keeping the apartment burglar free since I moved ALL of my stuff in. Take that, people who call me a hoarder.

Anyway, what I want to talk about is holiday markets. I went to a holiday craft market in New Jersey this past weekend, in a little town called Hope. Now, if you ask me, I would tell you there is no hope in New Jersey (because New Jersey is terrible). So don't ask me because that's wrong. It's a one horse town (I saw three horses but please let me use that expression!!) and is maybe as big as Bryant Park. Like the whole town is that big. So it was nice to get away from the city for a few days and escape to the land of New Jersey (I bet that's never been said before because New Jersey is terrible.) Still, we had fun. I spent money. But I got most of my Chrstmas/Hanukkah shopping done, so now I just have to figure out what to get everyone else (ba dum! tisss!!).

I can barely control my genuine excitementat holiday markets, which for me, looks like a real internal battle between my normal sullen demeanor and a smile. It almost looks like I'm having a stroke. But, I'm ok. I'll learn to harness it this Christmas. I'm new to the whole celebrating Christmas thing. After all, I'm very Jewish. Like I don't leave cookies out for Santa. I leave bagels and schmear. As if to say, "hey, from one Jew to another, Merry Christmas." (Oh, come on, we all know Santa is Jewish. Next time...)

Left Over Right Down

Much like a weekly hour slot on HBO, we're all drowning in leftovers. Please remember to swallow your leftover food and leftover rage from fighting with your family, in-laws, neighbors, inner demons, etc. Keep. That. Sh#$. Down. (See what I did there? I even censored my censorship. Now That's What I Call Repression, Volume 2!) The best practice is to go home, say hello, grab a few more childhood things that you don't need, and leave quickly, hopefully in the dead of night, with a turkey leg and suitcase full of crap. I will not go light meat into the night! The night is darkest before the meat, as they say. 

What did you buy today? ANSWER ME!!! (Sorry, that's some leftover rage that trickled out of my inner stronghold, or as my therapist calls it, the reason I'm here.) I hope you didn't spend to much between Black Friday and Cyber Monday. Spending too much is the leading cause of not having a lot of money, scientists say. I would save the money that you have leftover. You never know when those leftovers will become worth something someday.

As I write this, I'm reminded of something that won't be leftover after this week: anything of value in the space that used to be occupied by the UCB, underneath a Gristedes Market on 8th Avenue. In fitting UCB style, there are farewell shows being produced to the space, as if the theater is dying. The physical theater, yes, won't be around anymore. The actual theater company will, in fact, continue on, from a location in Hell's Kitchen. From a Gristedes kitchen to Hell's Kitchen, lots of memories have been made and lots more will be forged soon. I can't wait. But seriously, cut it out with acting as if the theater is dying. It's not dying, it's doing what every 20 year old theater major should eventually do: moving out of its parent's basement. 

What this all boils right down to is this; sometimes, we need the leftover stuff. It gets us through to the next thing, while being able to rely on the help of previous things. Is this vague enough for you? Can I go now? Jeez, anyway, I'm gonna go, but this was fun. I have to go see if my Cyber Monday toys are here yet. Mailman, where you at?

Spacey-ed Out

Can you even believe that I went from a huge 6th anniversary blowout to missing a Monday? That's irrefutable and irrevocable. Irregardless, the time is at hand so let me grasp it with all of my fingers. I need to say my feelings, my thoughts, my prayers, my beliefs, MY DREAMS! And I need to say them now. Time is of the essence (magazine) people (magazine). Wake Up Sheeple!

I'm actually riding a pretty strong high right now. (No, I'm not on weed, although I do have someone's number for that, I think.) No, I did something weird today. I came out as a comedian at work. I totally Spacey-ed the situation, told everyone that more importantly than touching people as a civil engineer, I'm also touching people as a comedian. #bestself I totally used it as an excuse for my previous actions of missing hangouts after work, being a self introspective guy, and acting like I didn't need these people. Classic distraction effort! But I was wrong. I do need them. I need them a lot.

 [sarcasm] But again, to reiterate, I definitely have to insensitively relate this to the very real struggle of people aiming to feel comfortable in their own bodies, against fear or judgment, resentment, humiliation, and being loved. I do. I have to do this. Comedy dictates that I blow this minuscule detail of my life that I'd been hiding from a few people way out of proportion and act like I'm making great strides in the civil rights movement. If only I didn't have to do this. But of course, I was a comedian the whole time, just like every male actor in show business was a pervert the whole time. These are our albatrosses. [sarcasm]

Back to my incessant need to be liked. It's really hard to get people to come to a 10:00 PM Triple Crown show, even if "Matt Demon" is doing a killer Harold on stage. But do you understand what I have here? It's an audience (more than two people and my mom) who are familiar with me and support me from the start. That's the goal of any comedian on stage. To immediately walk out and have the audience be on board with them as people and performers. If you don't bring an audience, you can still win them over the old fashioned way: confidence, experience, and paying them to be there.

None of these newly educated coworkers will come to anything that I do. "Wait, what Charlie?" Listen, I invite hundreds of people to shows all of the time and 0-5 people show up. Statistically, it's unlikely that any of these 10+ people will go somewhere to see me. I also don't want them to get burnt out on live comedy performance, because yes, that's a thing. You can get burnt out on live performance, if you go to a Michael Jackson or Richard Pryor show or something. And if they have to buy a ticket? Please, I know what they each make every year. They can't afford it!

All in all, I had been not showing my true self at work. We put up walls because we don't want to be hurt or we think that by covering up we maintain a mysterious person. It's impossible to connect with a mystery person though, that's why they reveal the people at the end of the dating game. So, I don't even know if I'm real anymore. What if I'm just an extension of your internet reality. Oh Shit! What if I've been Keyser Soze the whole time!!!!!!

Happy Thanksgiving folks!  Remember to pardon your Uncle and not to talk politics with your Turkey.  I'll of course be back next Monday, cyber or otherwise, to regal you of leftovers lost and turkeys gained. I didn't do a big Thanksgiving post this year because times are tough these days and we should poke fun at the more important stuff. Eat some turkey and sleep. Watch the parade. It'll be worth it. Enough of this gobbledegook. Let's eat!

The Candy/Iron Anniversary a.k.a. Mo' Shavings November

Michael Jackson's This is It and NBC's This is Us. We've done it. We've made it to the 6 year anniversary of me starting this blog. Well, I've made it and you've just sort of ridden my coat tails to this mile marker. No worries, my coat tails are long and numerous (that's what she said).

I didn't exactly know what I was going to do for this anniversary, but then, after perusing Hallmark.com late at night and spending $20 on 3 cards and some chocolate mints for my pillow, I figured it out. Anniversary #6 has typically been the candy/iron anniversary. I said "How fitting!!" This comes just days after Halloween, and also that one time when I thought about going back to the gym. I love it when the universe and I align. So I bought a mint or two (Hallmark is expensive) and here we are.

But I think, in all honesty, what I'd like to talk about this week, on this 6th year reunion, is something a bit different. I could drone on and on about my goals or my finances or my cancer (plays laugh track sound), but I'm all about fresh starts (and Fresh Air, I just started listening to NPR in the mornings). And what a better way to get a fresh start than taking a few, seemingly unrelated things, and shoving them together with glue until you can hang a shoe somewhere. Because the 6th year anniversary is not just the candy/iron anniversary (side note: if I ever wrestled, my name would be the Iron Candy), it's also the wood anniversary.

I have wood (that's what she said). No, I mean, like, I collect wood. Not big two by fours or anything, but yes, like small slabs and dowels. I'm under the delusion that one day I will build something out of all of these small pieces of wood. You can ask anybody that knows me whether or not I have a wood collection, especially the termites that think I'm a god. Everyone will agree. Because yes, I am that guy who, when he passes by wood lying scrapped out on the street, pauses for a moment and thinks "would it fit in the apartment, and by that I mean the plastic bin where all of my wood is?" I think it just might.

Now, I don't collect wood like some lumberjack hobo (By the way, my improv team Lumberjack Hobo is doing three consecutive shows tomorrow at the Triple Crown from 7-9pm. Come on out! You wooden want to miss it!) I have a plan for all of this wood, which is basically a couple dowel rods and the bases of used mousetraps.

I'm planning to make a shoe rack first, because we ordered one and never got it. One night in bed, I realized that I had everything already and said "Babe, I can make it. I have wood," but, to be fair, I say that every night in the bedroom. Second, I'd like to make some sort of night stand or table. We have an IKEA one that we stole from our other roommate, but hey, what about one made with my bare hands, huh? Also, I don't need no instructions, IKEA. Take your Flomso table and scram!

A third idea that I have is to make a bunch of holders for things that I already have, like my decks of cards or portable charger. I've already made some zen gardens. Those are fun to make because I can craft a small rake out of basically anything and it makes me feel like I'm at the beach. I've also collected wood from the beach.

So, things are going well 6 years later. I'm crafty with my hands and that's something. Also, I'm still working on that book of these blog posts. You would read a coffee table book of these posts, right? I see people get it printed all of the time, so how hard can it be? The holidays are upon us and I'm stoked. I'm feeling good about this year. Big things are on the horizon. Maybe I'll sell some wooden furniture on here too. I have a ton of popsicle sticks to get rid of.

Happy Anniversary and please like and share this. If you're just starting to read this blog now, there is no better time. It's raw, it's me, and the future looks like an uncut slab of thin plywood: grainy as hell.

Mischief Night

Tonight is the night before All Hallows' Ween, a night when most people are out smashing pumpkins while listening to The Smashing Pumpkins. It just so happens that I have a carton of eggs and toilet paper on me as I write this, but that's because I carry all of my belongings with me all of the time. Keep up, I've mentioned that before. Plus, it's two-ply and the eggs are from a farm share so the only way I'm cracking them tonight is if I stay up to make eggs for tomorrow morning which I will, most likely.

Anyway, it's mischief night, ooooh, are you scared? I've got two pumpkins at home that would scare the pants off of you... because they are fire hazards. The flames reach too far and have burned the lids such that I need to scrape burnt parts off of the underside of the tops and... that's spooky!!!

Also, my costume is ready. Eeek!!! I'm the wall from Stranger Things season 1. Nothing like putting on a costume to get me into the Halloween spirit, and nothing like needing to buy a costume to put me into a Spirit Halloween. Ooooh, seasonal stores!! A real monster's mash of mashed monsters costumes all over the floor. I bought the Christmas lights because I'm Jewish and don't have some already. The scariest part was forgetting my coupon! Oooh....

Be safe tonight. Stay indoors. It's mischief night, or, as the government calls it, Monday. Have a safe Halloween. Next week is the 6th year anniversary of this thing. Let's see if I know what I'm doing by then. Happy Halloween!!!!

Gassy Old Man

There are two questions that you can ask me where the answer is always yes; they are "Are you farting?" and "Did you just fart?" I tend to have a lot of gas, and I don't think it's my diet. Because I've tried changing my diet to leafy greens and healthy stuff, you know, rabbit food, and guess what? It seems like rabbits must fart a lot too because it hasn't helped me. I actually went online and watched a bunch of videos about them farting. Talk about a YouTube rabbit hole, am I right? 

Then I considered the fact that everybody farts. That was actually the prequel to the book "Everybody Poops," but it stunk. (Ba dum tisss.) And I guess I can rationalize it like that, right?

Is there something wrong with me? I mean, more than what's already wrong? I don't know... Should I see a doctor? The thing is, I've been to so many doctors recently, I'm starting to believe that I actually am the 65 year old man that I proport to be. I'm destined to be an old man, much more so than the general fact that I am literally destined to be an old man. I was born 40 years old, grumpy and swattting at the neighbors' kids or, I guess, neighboring kid (sorry Joel).

Anyway, I'm old and gassy, like the sun. I guess I'll just embrace it, right? Relaxing in the moment and the smells that surround me. It is not without its perks, though. My most proudest moment of gassiness was getting a guy to leave a crowded seat on the subway. I sat right down like "I don't know what his problem was. Air is fine here. Smells great to me." Best. Fart. Ever.

Watch The Late Stream this week on Facebook Live at 10:00 on Friday, 10/27. Should be a good time. Next week is Halloween. I'm nowhere near ready. Are you? 

It's Getting Hot in Here

Well, in two short months it'll be the holiday season. Considering that, I just want to take the time to say that climate change is real. We as a country should not be this heated. And I'm not just talking about the weather. I'm talking about every climate. They all change/have changed. And I'm not just talking about the fact that our president is hoping for a "White" Christmas, and forcing us all to have one too. And I'm not just talking about the fact that Santa is up at the North Pole sweating his balls off. I'm also talking about the fact that Mrs. Claus is being forced to blow on those balls and being kept quiet by the elves.

It's almost Halloween, and we already live in a time where some scary ass skeletons are coming out of the proverbial closet faster than Ryan seacrest on Fire Island. How many more Tom turkeys are we going to need to pardon before we see that some meat is dark inside, even when cooked. Sure, the weather is hot, but that doesn't give anyone the right to go around ripping each others clothes off against their will, saying things like "Did you see what they were wearing? They were just asking to overheat." It's not right.

And who's doing anything about it? Not these fictional characters. Oh, and leave Rudolph alone, would ya? So his nose is red, it doesn't affect you. You're not going to fix it; that would require plastic surgery (drastic surgery?) nobody has the money and quite frankly I'm willing to look past it.

Ugh, what a tangled mess we're in. As a respite from this heavy, heavy stuff going on, why not check out Sketchfest at the People's Improv Theater? I'm doing a Sketch Comedy show at 9:30 pm on Sunday evening. It is not ready as of now. Come see if it ever will be! It's topical, tropical, and downright slopical! Might be doing tech from the side of the stage. Come see it! $10 tickets for everyone. You know you need a break from the heat.

What's Cooking, Good Looking?

If you aren't aware, I am trying to hold down two careers and a part time job in NYC. If that sounds busy to you, it is. And stressful. So naturally, the thing to do is to pick up a hobby. And my hobby is going to be cooking.

I fancy myself a sous chef, which in French means "fancy chef." I take certain liberties with recipes, and by that, I mean I don't use them. If I have three ingredients, I just sauté them all together, doesn't matter what they are. Like if I have a lemon, a stick of butter, and a green bell pepper, it looks like I'm having lemon butter pepper tonight. That's the avant guard approach that I take with food. No meal is out of the question, especially if the question is what am I going to do with this lemon, this stick of butter, and this bell pepper?

I've gotten really good at cooking certain foods. Like fish. I'm good with fish. You want fish? Come over to my house. Don't come over unannounced; let's set up a date. I don't always buy fish, but when I do, I prefer salmon. Also, I cook chicken well. Chicken is fun because every so often you can leave it in the oven for a while and can still have it be bloody inside. Like, if it was frozen, it'll be uncooked and you'll have to wait another 10-15 minutes for dinner when you're running late. Fun, right?

Listen, I bought good knives and I bought a good cutting board, so as far Amazon knows, I'm a chef. Shhh, don't tell them if I'm not, although, who am I kidding, they probably already know! (Throws knives and cutting board out the window and hears screams and explosions). It makes me feel like one at least. (Peers out of the window with binoculars.)

And that's the true meaning of cooking, isn't it? To feel as though you've made something special, even though it may look brown and unappetizing, and your left wondering just how you burnt your lemon butter pepper? I think so.

Sorry I've missed a few weeks of these. I would say I've been cooking, but that's a lie. Life got crazy as it does from time to time. But like the good people say, "if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." And you know what, I like the heat cause I'm a goddamn sous chef.

Existential Alley

Every performer, content creator, artist, and Times Square Elmo will, at some point, ask themselves this very question: Am I doing enough? I happened to ask myself that question this weekend, as I walked from my 9 a.m. improv show back to the train so that I could get ready for the last three of six performances that I had to do this past weekend of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Remember that? You thought that that was over? Nope. Still going. They are actually doing it right now; I believe casts R and S are about to take the stage.

You see, even the busiest of performers get filled with doubt. Is this good? Am I giving this my all? Should I be doing more? All of these questions aren't really ever present in my head, as I'm the best at everything. But this weekend, they managed to squeeze through. Is it general self-doubt, that nagging presence that we all hate so much? Or is it a different kind of fear? Is what I'm doing going to be seen by an audience that is a little less "intimate" than the ones that I've been performing for? Should I stop asking rhetorical questions?

It's hard to answer any of these questions with more than one word: maybe. Saying maybe is not saying yes, as any improv teacher will remind you. But it is something, and isn't something better than nothing? I don't know. I'm feeling existential right now. I guess it'll pass, but there is a disturbance in something. I feel weird. Anyway, let me end this the way every scene in A Midsummer Night's Dream should end: I shall chide downright if I longer stay!!

Cruisin' for a Bruisin': Part 2

Right at the top here, I'd like to extend my deepest thoughts and sympathies to all of the areas and people disrupted by Hurricane Irma. It was terrible what happened, both in the islands and in The Southern states. I felt so bad for the people doing what we did just one week prior. There is no good way to recover from the devastation, but I'm confident that they can rebuild. Please keep them in mind and donate where you can.

Now, if you've ever been on a cruise before, then you still could not have prepared me for what I was about to experience, apparently. I asked many experienced cruisers what it would be like and received vague answers like "free ice cream" and "a bottle of wine will follow you around." I can get a bottle to follow me around at home too, so I was greatly unimpressed. Tell me something I need to know. If you sea something, say something, for Christ's sake.

But we went, nonetheless, with nothing but our smiles, because they took all of our luggage and said it would be in the room later. I found it outside of the room, looking a lot like it forgot it's Sail and Sign Card. Tsk tsk. The room always contained a weird animal made out of towel. I just kept thinking "I hope this seal is big enough to dry me off tomorrow morning." It was, don't worry.

The minute you get on a cruise, there is something to do (drink). It's almost annoying. I don't like vacations where there is too much to do. I could just sit on a beach for hours and not need a thing. Just a book, my sunglasses, a sandwich, and a towel. I carried way more than that amount of stuff to the beach because I don't know how to move efficiently with my things. But, it was ok, I gained a ton of muscle from dead lifting everything that I own.

We did ALL of the excursions. The only thing we didn't do was wander off to a nude beach by "mistake." We got the fruity drinks, we swam with the dolphins, and we ate raw conch meat. What a time to be alive! It was really fun. We took a lot of pictures, each one of which is worth a thousand words and also a thousand dollars, according to Carnival. At the end of the cruise I said "Sure, I'll buy them," and then threw my wallet off the side of the boat, a strict no-no. It's swimming with the dolphins now too, and I haven't been responding to PNC's letters.

The food on the ship was nothing short of amazing. We were served four course meals for dinner. I don't even eat four course meals at fancy restaurants in New York, and that's, like, the place to do it. I tried things that I've never had on land. Stuff like escargot, frog legs, and butter on bread, all of which was incredible. And, if you couldn't decide between two things, they would bring you both! You could've pulled a Ron Swanson and said "Give me everything on the left side of the menu," and they would've brought you that, plus the bottle of wine, because remember, that shit will follow you like your problems at home. Long story short, the expensive dining is overrated. The best things on vacation are free.

If you don't get sucked into the spa or the excursions like we did, cruising can be really fun. If you have a problem, they will do everything that they can to make that problem go away. It's almost magical. I think it's because they know you're trapped on a boat with them, and you can easily find them in their 4 person bunk beds and mess their night up. Unfold their tortoise towel and whip them or something. I'm not creative. Anyway, I recommend it but I was glad to get back onto land. I'll get my sea legs one leg at a time. Also, I cut up my credit cards, so I need new ones first before I go on my next adventure. But, this one was a boatload of fun!