Sigh.

Well, that was humbling.

One would think I had a head the size of the Great Outdoors from all of the humility that was shown my way yesterday.

The nursing home was just what one would expect, but the facility and staff appeared much better than I had feared from the advance reading I had done. (Maybe they're under new management?) The Comedy at the Home, however--well, that went about as poorly as it usually does with this sort of crowd, but I am glad to report that I had moments of fun in spite of the long, slow twist I had in front of the slack-jawed masses. Boney and Nikki helped make it much less of a soul-crushing enterprise.

Aside: I was instructed to get a MySpace site toute de suite, despite my contention that I am far too "mature" for a presence on this venue. The Word, according to Boney and Nikki, comics with far more experience than I, is that one must have a MySpace site to "sell one's wares" in the comedy marketplace.

Something will have to give if I do that--this blog or my pathetic web site (gee, which way do you think I'm leaning with this decision?).

As for the contest? Well, I did okay set-wise, but not well enough to get advanced to the next round. At least the two guys who got spots had original, funny material--and one was even a fellow asthmatic who does hilarious jokes about the condition. (Who knew there was comedy in lung disease?) The best thing that happened at this event was that the audience was quiet when I was telling my jokes--I mean, they laughed at the right spots and all, but they listened when I spoke.

That was not a courtesy they extended to most of the other comics, and while it's not much, it's something to be grateful for....

Yeah, I know. Slim pickin's....

On the home front, we're having a new countertop put in our kitchen (the old one looked too sad with the pretty new stove upon it), and work is not exactly going smoothly. A large piece of Formica has been damaged beyond repair, and there are little scuffs and dings and who-knows-what-all throughout the kitchen.

It could be a disaster, and of course, Linda already thinks it is a disaster. Me, I am holding out hope that somehow our contractor will somehow pull it together and the finished product will be fabulous.

Perhaps I'm in a little denial here, but I think I'd rather be in denial that in high lather. I'm too tired for high lather....