Meow House Theatre

(First, a little disclaimer that this is not a “Stephen Colbert” blog despite the prevalence of posts lately related to him. It is, however, a blog about things that interest me, and since his show (and by extension him) fall into that group, sometimes he’s a-gonna pop up. Sorry for all you non-TCR fans out there.)

Today is a year and a day since Stephen Colbert’s awe-aspiring performance at the White House Correspondents Association dinner.

There is not much I can say that someone somewhere hasn’t already said.

Stephen has said in other interviews that he doesn’t know what the fuss was about; that he was doing jokes he’d been doing on The Colbert Report for 6 months (which is true), but of course he wasn’t doing them in the face of the person to whom they were directed; and that he didn’t intend for his performance to be either a divisive motion or a rallying cry. He has said he didn’t look at it as something “brave” or courageous or anything else except a performance. On the other hand, he also called Jon Stewart upon receiving the invitation to headline and they both wondered if the WHCA reps were out of their fucking minds to invite him; and his head writer, Allison Silverman (who helped write the speech), has said that when she was sitting at the table at the dinner, listening to him speak, she thought, as he went into it, Oh my god he’s really really going to go for it. So he and they had to have known, to some extent, what kind of reaction they’d get. Maybe the fact it went where it did–that it went so very far–made him want to play down its significance. Because he often tells us he is a comedian, not a political figure, not a news commentator, not a legitimate voice from whom anyone should be deriving anything except laughs. Well he can say that all he wants but I don’t think Stephen is as naïve as all that. Satire has been used for centuries to say obliquely what the actual voice cannot say overtly. And sometimes it is much more powerful that way. And he must know this. Or he realized it very quickly after April 29, 2006.

If he had done the same act in a different venue, the reaction would probably have been different. Much less noticeable. Or if Bush had laughed or played along, it would have gone down as a cuttingly sarcastic yet funny comedy performance that the good-sport GW took in stride. Or if the mainstream media had not made such a clumsy and painfully obvious effort to ignore and then almost belittle it (famously claiming he “bombed”), the resultant worldwide Web distribution and subsequent explosion over it probably would not have been anywhere near what it was. Add to his own speech the “audition tape” (a parody of an audition for him to become the new White House press secretary, which was a brilliant backhanded commentary on the shameful blackballing of Helen Thomas after she dared to ask why Bush lied to get us into a war), and you have the stuff legends are made of. Stephen went into the stratosphere after that appearance. He would not be where he is today if he had never been to that dinner. The perception of the media and the Administration would not be where it is, despite Bush’s already-falling ratings. That speech, if nothing else, made people sit up and wake up and take notice. And I don’t mean take notice of Stephen Colbert. Although that was a side effect to be sure.

I get google alerts about a variety of subjects and judging from the emails in my inbox, I am not the only one marking this date. I must have received 30 or 40 alerts already on this same topic. I would bet big money that there will be no google alerts next April marking Rich Little’s 2007 appearance as the headline act. What a difference a year makes. In more ways than one.

The speech is available for viewing here. Watch and learn.

The wonderful gang over at NoFactZone have been in touch with the publicity people at Hachette Book Group USA (parent co. of Grand Central Publishing) about Stephen Colbert’s upcoming book, I Am America (And So Can You!).

Due to the tireless efforts of DB (founder of NFZ, the most comprehensive Stephen/TCR site on the Web, far better than the “official” Comedy Central blog/fansite), she has been given three blads to give away in a no-purchase-required contest as publicity for the book. A “blad” is a publishing term for “book layout and design”; it’s kind of a preview of an upcoming book, with the cover, table of contents, chapter excerpts, artwork, etc., included.

Here are some amazing pictures, courtesy of NoFactZone, of the blad. It looks like this book is going to be hi-lar-ious. Also, it’s scheduled for a “one-day laydown” on its release date of October 9. A “one-day laydown” is a publishing term used to describe when a book is released in mass quantity on one day, with booksellers and distributors under firm agreement to not sell until that date, to ensure that nothing is leaked in advance. It’s usually used only for huge releases like a Harry Potter book, so the fact that Stephen’s is scheduled for this type of distribution means Hachette/Grand Central must be expecting a phenomenal success of it.

Pictures! EDIT: I did have pictures of the blad posted but unfortunately NoFactZone’s contact at Hachette was not able to secure permission to publish photographs. So they are down, but the contest is still on!

This is the cover, obviously. (N.B. There used to be a picture of the cover here. I’m leaving my descriptive text in anyway. Yeah it’s confusing. Deal with it.) You can’t see the very top line but it says “From the author of I Am America (And So Can You!)” - which is funny because that’s this same book! That Stephen is such a joker.

Chapter 5, entitled “Homosexuals”: where “Stephen” is sure to insist he has absolutely no repressed homosexual desires. (In case it’s not clear, or you don’t watch TCR, it’s a recurring theme on the show that “Stephen,” as his right-wing conservative character, rails against homosexuality while at the same time fighting to keep himself from giving in to his innermost secret yearnings for Tad his building manager, George Clooney, and a young Sean Connery, among others.)

Planned publicity & advertising: Hachette/Grand Central seems to have a pretty big campaign planned. TV, radio, print media, Web promotions, local author signings (I presume that means NYC only), and more.

There were some other pictures posted originally at NoFactZone, which have now been removed with the others, including one of Stephen with a squirrel (very Exit 57-ish) and one with a mustache straight out of “The Strangers With Candy ‘Chuck Noblet Rock Star Fantasy School.’” It’s REAL! (SWC fans will understand this immediately. The rest of you will have to watch.)

Click here for full contest rules and entry instructions. It’s easy–you just need to send them an email. This is a fantastic contest and the winners will have a collector’s item.

If you are planning to buy this book, you can pre-order now through Amazon. There is the hardcover and an audiobook, which is sure to be read by Stephen himself. You might consider ordering through NoFactZone’s Amazon link: DB runs and pays for the site on her own and a click-through to Amazon will at least earn her a few credits with them. Click-through links are below, which will credit her (not my) account at Amazon. It doesn’t cost the buyer anything and will help support NoFactZone.net.

This is rather sad and ironic.

From the AP feed at boston.com:

ITHACA, N.Y. — Renowned Cornell University cat veterinarian James Richards, who was injured when he crashed his motorcycle trying to avoid a cat in the road, died two days later, the university said. He was 58. Dr. Richards, the director of Cornell’s College of Veterinary Medicine’s Feline Health Center, was thrown from his motorcycle during the accident Sunday, according to police. He died Tuesday.

Full article here. There is also a New York Times obituary here.

Dr. Richards wrote several books on feline care, including the ASPCA Complete Guide to Cats, which I consider probably the best overall health-and-care guide for cat owners. What an unfortunate twist of fate that he died, and that he did so in the way he did. He apparently swerved and crashed his motorcycle so that he would avoid hitting a cat that had run into the road. The cat died anyway.

This is why I don’t let my cats roam. They could be killed and they could cause someone else to be killed. And it’s much more expensive for their vet care, because cats who go outside get parasites, they get into fights, they get crazies who throw things at them, they get locked accidentally in people’s garages, they get other cats pregnant or become pregnant if god forbid their people are stupid enough to not have them spayed/neutered. I wonder if the person to whom that cat belonged knows what happened.

Sad.

An AP story I saw on The Huffington Post:

AP NewsBreak: Haggard Leaves Colorado

ERIC GORSKI | AP | April 18, 2007 07:37 PM EST

DENVER — The Rev. Ted Haggard moved Wednesday from his longtime home in Colorado Springs to Phoenix, where the disgraced minister will join the same church that helped fallen televangelist Jim Bakker.

Haggard, 50, resigned as president of the National Association of Evangelicals last year, after a former male prostitute alleged a three-year cash-for-sex relationship. The man also said he saw Haggard use methamphetamine. Haggard confessed to undisclosed “sexual immorality” and said he bought meth but never used it.

As part of his severance package from New Life Church, a 14,000-member congregation he started in his basement, Haggard agreed to leave Colorado Springs, a city he helped make an evangelical center.

Rest of the story is here.

The parts I really found interesting were:

… after a former male prostitute alleged a three-year cash-for-sex relationship.

and

… Haggard has told his advisers he does not believe he’s gay.

Well OF COURSE he’s not gay! He just likes to have sex with men. For 3 years. That we know of. That doesn’t mean he’s gay. He’s just “friendly.” He was just getting a massage—a therapeutic massage!—and that guy, who happened to have another entrepreneurial venture as a male prostitute (totally separate line of business, obviously), well that guy just had wandering hands, among other bodily parts, and Ted probably thought at first it was some kind of religious thing. And then he just felt bad about telling this poor lost soul to kindly back the fuck off, which any regular “Not Gay” man would do but Ted is a giver. He clearly must have thought he could bring this poor sinner into the fold and so even though he’s “Not Gay” he kept going back … for 3 years … in the hopes that just maybe Mr. Magic Fingers would see the Jesus light. None of this makes him gay. ‘Cuz that would be really terrible, especially after his vehement preaching at “Jesus Camp” that The Gays are all sinners and going to hell. Let’s see, if Gays = Sinners Going To Hell, and Haggard = Gay, then … um I must be getting my logic arguments wrong. Yes, I’m sure that’s it. I’m sure he’s “Not Gay” just like he “Didn’t Use” the meth. He merely bought it for no reason.

In related news, denial is not just a river in Egypt.

Heard an interesting story this morning on NPR:

Great Expectations for Dickens Theme Park

Morning Edition, April 19, 2007 · A $125 million Charles Dickens theme park is set to open outside London in May. Attractions will include cobblestone streets, staff dressed as pickpockets and wenches. Plus rat catchers who will hunt down vermin.

You can listen to the full story here.

I’m all for Dickens and all for getting kids (and adults) to become more interested in history and literature. I have discovered many of my own areas of interest because I watched some historical (but fictional) TV drama about, e.g., the Revolutionary War, and thought, “Hey, I really want to find out more about the geography of 1770s Boston.” (Thank you, John Jakes.) And I think it’s great to have a theme park based on one of the greatest writers the world has ever produced.

But rat catchers? They’re going to have persons dressed as rat catchers? And where, “prey” tell, will be their animatronic (one imagines) twitching-nosed scaly-tailed booty? Do they really have to go that far into authenticity? Perhaps they should have people emptying their chamber pots out of upper-story windows; I hear that was the way things were sometimes done back then too. Or at least have a few open sewers to go along with the rat catchers. For that real down-London flavor.

Maybe I’m closed-minded, but I just don’t see how rat catchers can ever be marketed as something fun and amusing and “theme-park-ish.” Blimey, me wee lass, here’s a nice plump one I got for ya, now let’s off for a spot of tea why don’t we? Right after we make sure this here furry fella never harms Brittania again, God Save The King.

This makes Disney’s obsession with picking up every piece of trash that should happen to find its way to the ground that much more appreciated. Of course I don’t like trashy streets in the first place, and especially not on streets which are part of someplace I’ve paid big bucks to get in to, but it’s vaguely unsettling to see the pristine state of a Disney park. Like it’s slightly fake. Which of course it is. It’s totally fake. But I would rather, any day of the year, go with their plastic-surgery-i-fied cleanliness than have rat imagery follow me around all day.

I’m just not seeing getting the attraction of this one point. Some things are better left in the past.

Something Silly for Today:

One of my favorite blogs, No Fact Zone, which is a veritable waterfall of Stephen Colbert information, reported this past Monday about a campaign being engineered by Alchemist Media to google bomb enough sites so that Stephen gets listed in the top spot should anyone do a search on the phrase “greatest living American.” This ties in to an idea Stephen himself had (which he mentioned during the Q&A before a recent taping) that he’d like to rank first on Google under the search query “giant brass balls.” (O Stephen, you already have the giantest ones in the hearts of your fans. If it’s possible to have balls in one’s heart.)

(To explain how the “bomb” relates to Google searches and number of sites participating in the bomb: in short, Google uses a search algorithm whereby the more sites linked to a certain word or phrase, the higher the chances of the search result being the “right” one that any random person is seeking, and thus the more sites with that word, the better its chances for coming out Number 1 in a seach for that word. The Wikipedia article linked above explains it in more depth; or just go to Google and google “Google Bomb.” How’s that for repetitive and self-perpetuating referencing.)

If you’d like to join in the fun and make Stephen even more saturated into the Internet Series of Tubes than he already is, paste the following code (provided by Alchemist Media) somewhere in your own blog or Web site:

(Note: I’m an HTML mess so go here and copy No Fact Zone’s code; as soon as I can figure out how to get it to show up on my own site I’ll de-link them. I don’t think this will be a burden on their bandwidth because only about 10 people read this blog.)

Once you paste the code, you’ll get two links:

Giant Brass Balls

Greatest Living American

I have to say that all these links to the Colbert Nation site are probably not going to bode well for them, seeing as how they are already hopelessly and shockingly mismanaged and inadequately administered, technology-wise. They are using software meant for a board of perhaps 5,000 users, and they have, I believe, over 50,000 registered as of this point. The site goes down regularly, sometimes for days, and usually every night every time Stephen says anything “squeeable”: something his [often female] fans have to go post about immediately with the utmost urgency. I have found the Webmaster in the past to be quite an idiot but I’ve been thinking that really, the state of the equipment–the servers–is not his fault and I’ve been too hard on him, at least in that one area. For some unknown reason, Viacom chooses to have Stephen plug the site almost nightly and yet they apparently will not spend any money on maintaining it. It’s a curious situation. If I were a sponsor, who is being charged advertising rates based on number of site users, and then I found out the site is down and unusable 30% of the time, I’d be hopping mad. Maybe someday Viacom will wake up and join 2007 instead of continuing to flounder along in 1994, which is where that site is living.

Just wanted to mention that I know this site has the most visually boring layout possible. I am in the midst of deciding which WordPress template I want to use; or I might go with Textpattern, which I’ve heard good things about. Textpattern seems to be more of a cross between blogging software and content management, which might work out better for me even though most of what I do is writing.

The template I use actually is a WordPress template (the “Kubrick,” which is their original and default template) but it’s run through my own domain host’s coding and cannot be customized to any great extent. And I hate fixed-width layouts with those giant margins. I just have to make a decision and then install the software. And copy everything from here first, because with my luck Something Bad Will Happen and I’ll lose all this writing.

There is just so much to do and not enough hours in the day. I really wish I could be like Leonardo Da Vinci, who is said to have only slept 3 hours a night. I loves my sleep but it’s a giant time-waster. That’s pretty much why I gave up TV except for TDS, TCR, CNN, and C-Span. And Faux News when I want to fulfill any fleeting masochistic tendancies I might ever have, since watching them always gives me a giant pain in the stomach and a headache. But sometimes I can’t stop myself. I do watch a few regular shows now and then but I can hardly remember the last time I watched some certain series 2 weeks in a row.

In years past I have always gotten HBO for the time when The Sopranos came on but this year I didn’t. For one, I just hate to have to be glued to the chair in front of the TV set. Two, I can get them for free via The Mysterious Underground, assuming I’m willing to wait at least a half day past original air time, and that’s fine with me. And three, much as I like the series, those people are just so revolting. The women especially are so … gross … I can’t think of a better word. They all know that their husbands/boyfriends make a living off robbing, torturing, and murdering people–often totally innocent non-Mob-connected people–and they are all totally fine with it as long as they get to keep buying their designer clothes and German sports cars. If I were Meadow, when I realized what my father was, I would have moved away in the middle of the night and changed my name. But she’s all cool and fine with it and now she’s dragging her fiancé into it. Like she can’t figure out what goes on at that “construction” site. They’re just all such shallow putrid people. Yes I know they are fictional characters. They can still be revolting and generate feelings of disgust in those who are watching. They wouldn’t be “good” fiction if they didn’t cause a reaction like this. I, myself, have just had enough of subjecting myself to feeling a little sick when watching them. I can get that from Faux News, and it takes less time.

I am really fucking annoyed right now.  A lovely woman I know from the various Colbert sites–an independent artist and filmmaker–has had her Colbert-themed merchandise flagged and removed from Café Press.  By whom, and why, is as of now a mystery.  From what I can tell so far, she had several original designs on Café Press with drawings and quotations of Stephen Colbert, which she was selling to raise money for the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research.  100% of the revenue from these few items was going to charity.   Someone informed Café Press of “something,” exactly what is unclear as of yet, and CP removed all the items and has barred her from selling them through Café Press at all.

This woman (her name is Enza and online nick is “Warsucks”) is the one who designed, created, and paid for the spectacular flag hanging in the waiting room of The Colbert Report studio.  If you have been to a taping you must have seen it.  One night recently, Stephen mentioned someone in the audience “waving beach towels” at him–this “someone” was Enza, actually, at the taping, holding up a smaller version of the flag that hangs in the waiting room.  Everyone on staff at the studio, including Stephen, knows what it is, obviously; it’s about 4×6 feet and impossible to miss when the room is empty.

So far what I can see is that the Café Press items she designed mostly or completely contain designs that are not even identifiable enough as “Stephen Colbert” to be recognized as him unless someone told you they are of him.  There are a couple of drawings that could be anyone.  There is maybe one that is clearly copied from a recognizable photograph, and MAYBE Viacom (or more likely Hyperion, since a booksigning for his Hyperion-published book is where that photograph comes from) could make a case for copyright infringement on that.  But Stephen is a public figure, and there is nothing to stop anyone from DRAWING him and selling those drawings.  Every newspaper in the country does this every single day on their editorial cartoon page.  People win Pulitzers for this, for christ’s sake.  They’re not getting “flagged” and you know why?  Because the First Amendment and right to Freedom of Speech protects their ability to profit from public figures under certain circumstances.  And Enza is not profiting anyway!  She doesn’t make a goddamn cent off this stuff.

What the fuck is going on that someone has to “report” charity fundraising endeavors on the tiny scale that this one is?  Did it make you feel important, you small fucking coward?  Was it Viacom–can they actually believe they own EVERY possible permutation of any image of Stephen Colbert?  Even drawings that could be anyone or no one?   Was it someone else who is so insecure, so petty, such a goddamn yellow-bellied coward that he has to make himself feel big and important by screwing over someone else–by screwing over Parkinson’s sufferers?!  What’s that going to get you, you bottom-feeder prick?  A moment of superiority in your wasted pathetic life?

It’s absolutely disgusting.  I have said she should contact a lawyer, the Electronic Frontier Foundation, and the ACLU, and I hope she does.

Enza’s site:  United Colors of Truthiness 

I had another improv class this weekend. It was so much fun you cannot believe it. It’s like recess for adults. Two hours of almost nonstop laughing. If you’re not laughing, you just gotten done laughing; or you’re about to laugh.

There are different types of improv but most theaters you learn at are all going to start out with pretty much the same thing, although they each have their own style and methods. Lots of them, no matter how much experience you have, want you to start with Level 101 because they have a certain way of training and they want you to learn their way and not be stuck in some other theater’s or troupe’s style. It’s kind of like when you start a job: even if you’ve done that job before, every place wants you to learn their way. I actually don’t mind this, in improv, because a lot of what you do in the earlier levels is so much fun that it’s not a downer at all to repeat it.

For this class I was pleasantly surprised to see that our substitute this week (our normal instructor has gone on vacation for a couple of weeks) was a guy I’ve taken a class with before. I hadn’t expected him to be there; the regular teacher had said it would be some other guy and I didn’t even ask her if it would be Dave. We played a few warmup games, which are probably the funniest part of the whole thing, because the goal is to not think and not hold back and just play. You end up getting sillier and sillier and laughing more and more. There’s one game I quite enjoy called “Waaaah,” which is a warmup whereby someone “throws” a “waaah” (by holding his arms above his head, hands together, and then flinging them straight at someone), who then catches it (by throwing his arms up, held straight out, hands together, over his head). The two people on either side of the one who caught the waaah then karate-chop him in the stomach (without actually touching him, using the same hands-together motion except going to the side like a chop), and then that person throws the waaah to another person. On each beat, you yell “WAAAAAH!!!” You start off a little slow and get faster and faster, with the waaaaahs coming on each beat; people also start to vary the length or pitch of the waaaahs and other people tend to emulate that until someone changes it again. It sound ridiculous but it’s hilarious to play. It’s really hard to get all the waaaahs out because it’s hard to talk while you’re cracking up.

We also played a game where each person had their name and an associated physical movement, a famous line from a movie and an associated physical movement, and a line from a song and an associated physical movement. What the game is that one of those three things–name/movement, movie line/movement, or song line (which you sing, not just speak)/movement gets passed from person to person in random order. If someone “throws” your movie line to you, you have to do your own movie line and then throw one of someone else’s three back to that person, who will then do his own and then throw to another person. I was quite pleased to discover that I think I had the best voice in the room, or I and the other woman, who was a lovely soprano, did. I am always nervous about singing solo in public but this wasn’t bad at all. This game is also quite fun because you have to remember 15 or 20 different things in total and get them out fast. You also have to know a fair bit of “info” such as movie lines or song lines in the first place; I can see that people who never read a book or watch the news are never going to be good at improv. You need to be able to pick up on things people reference and if you are not well read, it will never work.

We also did mirroring, which is when someone takes some kind of physical position and another person jumps out to mirror it. This can be an exact mirroring, as though you’re standing in front of a mirror; or you can have a mirror on the side of the person or in back. We then moved into complementary mirroring, which is when the first person strikes their pose and instead of mirroring the same thing he is doing, you “mirror” the intention of his actions. For example, I pulled my hand back as though I was about to punch someone in the face and someone immediately understood what I was doing and jumped out and cowered in front of me. It’s fun when the intentions are immediately obvious, which is pretty important in improv. But, we also had instances of a person making a motion and someone thinking he meant something else, and then the second person “mirrored” the action with a totally different response than what Person #1 intended and yet it still worked. E.g., one guy took the position of someone about to hammer something but another guy though he was bent over with the strain of pulling on something and so he “mirrored” by making the impression of a man behind the first helping to pull on a heavy rope or chain. That wasn’t the first guy’s thought at all but it totally worked. In improv, the first guy would “give up” that initial idea he had and go with the pulling-up-an-anchor idea to continue the scene.

For scene work, I was partnered with a guy and we were told I was to be angry and he was to remain neutral, and the setting was we were out to dinner at our 20^th anniversary. Then we just made up the rest. It was really fun. It’s kind of frightening in a way because it’s so different from regular acting; there is no script to follow and you don’t know where this scene is going at all. You don’t know what the other person is going to say and you can’t really plan ahead what you’re going to say, because each of you is supposed to build on what the other person offers. It went really well though and we got a lot of compliments on the scene. Everyone did really well. There was one that another pair did where the guy did most of the talking and the woman said barely anything, but her facial expressions and body movements completely conveyed exactly what she was thinking to us, the audience. It was not “one-sided” at all; there was no “what is that woman doing and when is she going to say something??” She just let the guy talk for the most part and reacted with her face. And it was hilarious. They were supposed to be on a date–a first date–and he was “sad” and man he started going on and on about how his dog died and his long-lost twin showed up and the woman was just “ohmygod what the hell did match.com do to me, get me the fuck OUT of here!” with hardly any verbalization of those thoughts, yet we all knew exactly what she was feeling.

One woman tentatively asked if it was okay to swear in class and Dave was all “shit, man, fucking say what you want [flips the bird to everyone].” I was so relieved because I think we all know how much I like to say, and do say, “jesus fucking christ.” Now I can be relaxed in knowing that nobody is going to all offended when I do so.

Jesus fucking christ [rest], jesus fucking Christ [rest]. I feel so much better now.

A Memoir In Three Acts

Dramatis Personae

Meow: The Gorgeously Stunning Ingenue (okay that’s stretching it) Who Somehow Manages To Nearly Miss Almost Every Plane But Avoided Being Marked For The Full-Body Search This Time

Meow’s Primary Compatriots In This Participatory Theatre Endeavor: Marisa, Tory, Chi

Stephen: A Man Who Jumps Around A Lot, Among Other Things

Les Autres:

Seven other persons of the type to wait long enough to get in the front row - you know who you are - I’m not listing them because I think I’m going to get the names wrong and then I’d feel bad

Mark M.–The Audience Coordinator and International Man of Mini-Stephen Mystery

Mark M.–The Real Stage Manager - Repeatedly Impersonated by “Bobby” and Yet Still Waves His Paper Festively

Juan–Person Who Guards His Ice Cream Most Rabidly

Killer–Guarder of Cables and Resident Scary/Not-Scary Person

The Unnamed Security Guard Who Makes Meow Nervous Even Though She’s As Clean As A Shiny New Dime

MadMoll–Of All The Starbucks In All The Cities In The World, She Had To Walk Into Mine

And Special Guest Star Back From His Long Voyage And Ready To File Workers’ Compensation Claims – Stephen Might Not Provide Him With Health Insurance, But He Can’t Get Away With Skipping on the WC Coverage:

The One and Only “Tad”!

#

The Setting For This Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius: (that’s stolen from some guy who really did write a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, coincidentally entitled A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius)

A Plane
A Train
A Studio In The Area Formerly Known As “Hell’s Kitchen” But That Scares The Tourists So Now Let’s Call It (White Bread) “Clinton”
A Sidewalk (No Dead Rats Waiting To Be Pancake-i-fied This Time)
A Train (make that “a WRONG train”)
A Cab
A Traffic Jam
A Plane
A Runway
A Plane Turning Around On The Runway Because “This Is Your Captain Speaking And We Noticed Something Funny Up Here”
A Runway Redux
A Plane
A Plane Getting In 2 Hours Late
A Car
A Bed (Um that part’s not really included in the story. Nothing too exciting anyway.)

#

Prologue

After having a couple of people who were supposed to attend back out only a few days before taping, I had to find someone to take these tickets. It would have been a damn shame to let them go to waste. I posted in several places and finally got three people to join me. For god’s sake, you’d think I was trying to get rid of tickets to Fred Phelps! Not that I’d ever have tickets to that vile repulsive waste of carbon. Anyhoo, the tickets got taken and we all figured out who was getting there when. There was a day of slight anxiety because there was supposed to be a snowstorm and if that had happened and my flight were cancelled, it would be difficult to get to NYC on the train. Well not difficult to get there, but difficult to get back that night. I ended up buying a train ticket just in case, which I hope I can return or that’s $109 down the tubes. The money tubes, not the Internet tubes.

But the flight wasn’t cancelled and off I went. No “special screening” this time by TSA, no power-mad teenagers demonstrating their manliness by making smarmy remarks and “stand aside” orders to people who dare to question their intellectual capabilities.

Act I

I got there fine and took the E as usual to 50th & 8th. This is the closest and best stop to get to for TCR and there is Starbucks on the corner of 51st or 52nd and 8th. This is the one I stopped in at, and immediately upon walking in I see this woman sitting down and I said to myself, “I know that hair from somewhere.” But you know, it’s not polite to stare so I went and ordered my caramel mocha latte, which have grown on me of late and I think now surpass peppermint as my favorite Starbucks creation, and went to sit down. The only table open was right next to this Woman of Familiarity so I’m still trying not to stare but I really think I know her. I got out my iPod and as I’m fiddling with it, I hear her say the words “I went to a taping … ” to someone else and I pulled off the headphones and turned and said, “Are you talking about going to a taping of The Colbert Report?” She said, “Uh yes … ” and just at about the same time, we both said “I know you, where do I know you from?!” Well it was MadMoll [from the CN board, if you are reading this somewhere else and don’t recognize her name]. Now that was freaky. I have never met her and have only seen a couple of pictures of her, one from CN and one from MySpace. And out of all the Starbucks in NYC, and all the times I could have gone in, I went to that particular one while she was in it. It was pretty funny. I should probably thank my cat, who is actually the one with the MySpace profile (HEY! It’s a legitimate art form! Deal with it!) and who is so handsome and such a fascinatingly feline Man of Letters (he’s got all manner of advanced degrees) that he has far more friends that I have probably ever had in my entire life. So I had a few minutes and we talked while I drank my heavenly blend of caramel and coffee and then I trekked to the studio.

While I was crossing 10th, I saw this girl on the other side of the street and I thought, “She looks like someone who would be going to wait in line” and she was - she was Chi, one of the people I had given a ticket to. There were already a couple of people in line ahead of our group. Shortly thereafter the second person in my group showed up; she was wondering at first which people we were because I had said to look out for my long bright red hair but it was cold and I was afraid of being told to leave (more on that later) so I had put it inside my hood. But we figured it out. Pretty soon TCR employees started coming out to see if people were out there already and at some point unlocked the gate so we could line up in the normal spot. Then we just waited for 5:15. Mark M. came out as usual and again yelled (in a nice way) to everyone to NOT join the regular line if they were supposed to be on Standby. So as I said before, make friends with Standby people away from the line and before they ever sign up. When Mark saw me, he said, “Oh hi, how are you?” etc., and we talked for a minute and then I was no longer afraid I was going to be kicked out of the line (I’m just nervous about these things). I asked him if Paul [Dinello, who plays Tad The Building Manager] was there because his segment was airing and he said he hadn’t seen him but he thought he might be there. I think they are told to be purposefully vague about these things. Mark is a really nice guy and I hope Stephen gave him that raise I said he should give him. (No I did not and do not actually talk to Stephen. It’s a long story.)

We went in at 5:15 and did the whole wait-in-the-room-for-awhile thing. I sat next to a couple of people who hadn’t been before; one was worried that she and her group might not get in and was trying to figure out how (based on her number of 52) many people and spaces there were left. I was happy to tell her that once she was in the waiting room, she had nothing left to worry about - she was definitely getting in. I was Seat #8, which actually is not a good seat - in fact I think in the front row, anything beyond Seat #6 is no good - because the cameras block you a lot there, and Mark M. The Real Stage Manager stands in front of you a lot. It was okay because I’ve been there before but if I hadn’t, and ended up being blocked so much, I would have been very crushingly disappointed. They should just not have seats right there at all.

Pete did his warmup and was very funny. I really prefer him over Paul M. at TDS. If you guys live in NYC, you should go see him sometime when he does standup. He had a couple of the first seats go up and touch the desk, and he recognized one person (in our overall 11-person group) from being his MySpace friend. Harrumph, he didn’t recognize ME as his MySpace friend. I was a little hurt.

He didn’t do too long of a warmup this time - they must have wanted to get started. Oh I had asked Mark why they were doing it early that night and he said they were trying to change the schedule for Thursdays so they could all leave earlier and once he said it I had a memory that he told me that a couple of months ago but I had forgotten. I know people were all curious about why they were changing the time so I wish I had remembered and could tell people that. I thought perhaps Stephen wanted to catch the last shuttle to DC but I was obviously wrong.

Act II

Then Mark M. The Real Stage Manager comes out and says he’s going to wave his paper festively when we’re supposed to yell and then Stephen came running out and someone throw the mic to him and he’s running around the desk doing his flying leaps and he runs to the other side tossing the mic into the air. He’s pretty good at that; I know I’d drop it. I wonder what those cost. They aren’t cheap, I know that much. His pants are still too big. Someone must start a letter-writing campaign about that. (Just kidding.) And his shoes are very shiny. He asked for questions, most of which I can’t remember, but the best one was from Allisa (in our extended group) who said, “Where’s your permission slip?” He was confused for a second and said, “Permission slip for what?” and the whole row practically went bug-eyed and said, “Strangers With Candy?” and he immediately had a flash of understanding and did an amazing Chuck Noblet “Shut your dirty little mouth!!!” with the exact body movement - the half-spin around to start the yelling - and everything. The inflection and growly-voiced timbre was exactly the same as on SWC. All he needed was some hideous Noblet clothes and it would have been 6 years ago. Of course the front row completely cracked up and the rest of the audience (who could not have heard the “Strangers With Candy?” remark) was probably all “What the fuck …???” and Stephen said something like, “I think we just alienated the entire studio of people.” Oh, there was also a group of Muslim people there and one asked “As a Muslim, how can I defeat other Muslims” and Stephen said something funny back but I have forgotten what it was. Oh, and Lefty gave him the picture her daughter drew, which she forgot last time, and he said, “Does she have any writing samples, because we’re looking.” I better get cracking on that packet if they’re all the way down to taking submissions from 8-year-olds.

I did not get to ask my question again; I think there is something against me in that department because I have red hair and I wore a bright red sweater even though I looked frightening in it and I still did not get called upon. At least this time he didn’t look right at me and then pick the person next to me, which has happened four times so far. But that goddamn sweater is still going in the trash.

Unfortunately (?) Stephen did not mess up one single time last night. I’m sure he doesn’t like to flubb but we all know those are the best parts: when he screws up so bad he has to retape it. He was also clearly getting sick–he kept popping cough drops before they started the tape and during the breaks and then he’d have to spit them out when it got close to taping time. He also drank tea instead of his normal water and made the Ching Chong Ding Dong face while drinking. Even without his saying anything, it was obviously Ching Chong Ding Dong. Very funny.

Right before the intro the hair lady came out and sprayed his cowlick, which he did not need. Although you know how his hair looks really Brylcreamed on TV? It doesn’t look like that in person. And it does move around a little when he’s leaping–it’s not totally gellified to his head. And it’s much darker on TV. That recent interview where the reporter said his hair is jet black and has about four strands of grey at the temples? Well it’s not, and it has way more grey than that, and that reporter guy needs glasses.

While they were doing Act 1, we could see the crew getting a rolling office chair ready off to the side and we all knew this had something to do with Tad. They put it on the dais and then Paul came out (I didn’t even see him; he wasn’t there and then he was all of a sudden.) He sat down but kept his back to the audience; maybe so we wouldn’t yell or wouldn’t see that his face was all cut up, although we in those front seats could see anyway. He and Stephen talked through this and then Stephen did the intro for him and when they played his segment, Stephen watched and was laughing and/or mouthing the voiceover (which was all Tad’s lines, not Stephen’s, but he knew them anyway) the whole time. That guy has some perfectly straight blindingly white teeth. Those braces were worth every cent. When the segment was over and they cut to commercial, Paul stood up and everyone (and by everyone I mean most of all Row 1) clapped and cheered for him and Stephen said, “Paul Dinello, everyone” and then Paul smiled at all of us and man he is good-looking. Even with the messed-up face. Then he left.

Act III

The rest of the show was uneventful although there did appear to be some kind of mixup in the identification of the guest. After the interview, when Stephen was back at the desk getting ready to do the close, he was talking to the producers and he appeared to be quite annoyed about something. I said to Marisa, “Look, he’s really yelling at them … I wonder if the researcher really did give him the wrong notes about what the guest’s actual title was.” [I should add he wasn’t really “yelling” - he was having a heated discussion that we could not hear. For all I know, they could have been talking about why the ice cream bin was empty, or who used the executive washroom without permission.] I checked the CN site and Avery seems to have identified the guest correctly, so it seems that perhaps Stephen did get incorrect information. That must have been rather embarrassing for him. The interview went well; I was expecting more fireworks but Land was rather logical and grounded. Not all the religious are crazies. Also, this was probably not visible to anyone except those of us in Seat 8 and beyond, but Stephen keeps a Bible on a shelf under the interview table. He pulled it out to show the guest but this was probably hidden unless you were far off to stage right and in the first row only, like we were, because he held it down low and behind the table.

Then he did the close and as he always does some little thing while the credits roll (which is not aired), this time he went to the shelf and pulled off something (a coconut? a shrunken head? a petrified durian?) which he fondled rather romantically for the next minute and a half and made funny faces. Then he thanked everyone for coming and said something like, “I can’t believe I got through that without losing my voice. Thank you so much.” And then he walked backstage.

On the way out, I talked to Juan whom I met a few times ago and who has been very nice to me and he was eating a most beckoning cup of Americone Dream and he would NOT give me any! I mean, he was practically physically guarding it, like I might steal it or something, or grab it and run like hell. That must be some really good ice cream. The Ass Sac Smut state where I live barely sells it, so I’ve not had any yet. He asked when I was coming back and I said I had to work on my Secret Methods of Ticket Obtainment™ and might see him soon.

We left and waited outside although I don’t think any of us wanted to see Stephen. I mean, not that nobody wanted to see Stephen; but nobody wanted to bother him at all. We really just wanted to have Paul come out. He does not get bothered all the time so it would have been okay this time. Yes, I’m rationalizing. It’s what I do. I already have my book and DVD signed by him too but I would have liked to get a picture. Although my camera chose that very moment to break but I carry around a little camcorder everywhere and it can take still photos so I would have used that. However, I had to catch my plane or risk sleeping in the glorious accommodation that is JFK Airport, so I left at about 8:50. (We had been told by a few people that it would probably be a very late night, and I kind of figured that with Paul just back they weren’t going home anytime soon. Plus the exec. producer hadn’t come out and with that research mistake, if there was one, I figured they were trying to determine just what happened there and probably wouldn’t be out for hours.) Ilyse and Tek and Scorpio got great pictures with him so I’m happy for them.

Then I walked back to 50th & 8th and stupidly took the C train (now the C train can be the best train to take but not in this particular case :-)) and didn’t notice until I was almost to 168th Street, and I thought then I’d not be able to make it in time to my flight on the subway, so I got out and hailed a cab and kissed $60 goodbye, and it really ticked me off when I got to the airport and found out my flight was delayed more than an hour. I probably could have walked and made it in time. When we finally took off, we taxied away and as we’re about to start accelerating, the pilot says “Something funny going on up here” and we had to return to the jetway so the mechanics could take a look. That made me feel reeaaal good. I finally got home at 2:30 AM and had to get up for work 4 hours later.

#

Epilogue

In Summary and In Conclusion:

Stephen: Teeth: white. Pants: too big. Sick: needs some Nyquil and a bedside teapot. Still very funny (as if he wouldn’t be). Must be color-blind if he cannot see my flaming hair, or I scare him. (That’s possible too; wouldn’t be the first time.)

Paul: Please sir, may I have some more? We need more Tad segments. We need more in-studio Tad segments. With “Stephen.” Oh hell we need “Tad” and “Stephen” to pretend to be a couple of middle-aged homos. They could be “practicing” a play or something. Oh and we need Tad to clean out Stephen’s pool, or be forced to investigate a tanning salon. I think you all know why this is of the utmost importance. And if you don’t, why, you are certainly missing out on something. I’ve got some tape I can send you.

Mark M. The Audience Coordinator: deserves a raise. I’m talking to YOU, Stephen.

Mark M. The Real Stage Manager: not that I don’t like “Bobby” but Mark M. TRSM looks just as good in a headset as Eric Drysdale does, and he does have some comedic talent as evidenced by his interactions with Stephen (all of which are off-camera).

Juan: ice-cream hoarder. The nerve.

The Unnamed Security Guard: I was nervous and guilty every time I moved. That must mean he’s doing a good job.

Assorted Accompanying Persons: we are a nice bunch of people. I haven’t met anyone yet I’d run screaming from. (Except maybe that security guard.)

TCR: the best free show in New York City. It’s a shame it goes by so quickly. And just like that, he’s gone …

The End

If you’ve been watching the news in the past several weeks, you probably have seen several instances where some show or another has mistakenly referred to Barack Obama as “Osama bin Laden.” I think a couple of times it was someone actually speaking the name and other times it was Obama’s picture with a text graphic identifying him as “Osama bin Laden.” There might have been one case of a picture of bin Laden and a text graphic identifying that picture as “Barack Obama.” Not sure.

Anyway, I had my own Osama/Obama moment today upon reading the front page of The Boston Globe, where one of the headlines reads “Obama’s silence on Imus alarms some blacks.” I had to look twice and wondered why “Osama” would possibly have reason to comment on Don Imus’s recent bigoted remarks, and further, why “blacks” would care what “Osama” thinks about Imus. I was also bewilderedly confused to think, just for a second, that Osama bin Laden 1) listens to shock radio; and 2) that it’s apparently such a non-secret that he does that American newspapers report casually about what’s on his radio dial and how various groups feel about his listening choices.

Hey-O! Boy did I feel like a dimwit, especially after laughing at the fumbling apologies of CNN et. al. for making such a foolish error. So yes, I admit, it’s possible to mix up “Obama” and “Osama.”

Although I was going on a 1-second glance; the news programs doing it had many opportunities to catch the error. Those graphics must pass through several layers of review before they get put up, right? And there must be a whole fleet of producers who see the tape either before or as it’s being prepared for airtime, right? At least I only thought Obama was Osama for a few seconds in the elevator. I didn’t put it on TV and then have to apologize for it. I try and keep my social blunders private. It’s a lot easier when only I have deal with them. They can be my own little secret. Mine and Osama’s. I mean Obama’s.

I have nothing to say. I can’t think of anything to write. I can’t find anything interesting in the paper. I can’t think of anything that I haven’t said before. I am scared that my brain is devolving. I feel like Charlie in Flowers for Algernon. You know, after he got smart and then started de-smartifying … a long downward ever-faster spiral into dull and unwitted. He must have felt the same way I do right now. Okay so he was a fictional character. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t real.

Someone please give me a topic. Any topic. Anything at all. I will write something on it. Give me a subject, a word, a phrase, anything. Or I’m going to have to start watching American Idol for ideas, and I really don’t want to go there.