My dear aunt is gone, one of my dear dogs is going to join her in the not-too-distant future, and my dearest has been having a challenging time.
And her challenges are my challenges, don't you know.
Sigh.
Am reminded of a lyric from a song on one of my Ella Fitzgerald CDs: "Into each life, some rain must fall, but too much too much too much is falling in mine...."
Indeed.
But this too shall pass, as they say, which is cold comfort when "this" includes one of the sweetest creatures on the planet.
And The Comedy has taken a back seat to all of this "stuff," as you can imagine. Alas, there's sad news on this front, too. Jimmy Tingle is letting the lease on his fabulous theater lapse, so there will be no more Jimmy Tingle Off-Broadway as of November 1.
The man and his staff knew how to treat comics, and his theater could be tremendously intimate with the right crowd.
It was also the site of my favorite show ever, the Laughing Liberally Tour of 2006.
Oh well.
I haven't been posting. Now you know why.
Count yer blessings, eh?
Friday, October 26, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Not exactly standup fodder, but...
Spent a long weekend in Wisconsin tending to a dying aunt and dementia-ridden uncle, which will never be a lead-in to a successful joke. Thing is, despite the gravity of the situation, my aunt found humor in much of what was going on, and while she couldn't laugh (her remaining lung is what's failing her), she was causing mirth among her family, friends and health care workers while I was there. For example:
When the hospice nurse told that she was about to get a nebulizer treatment, she responded, "Oh, goody!" Her next-door neighbor (and dear friend) who was in the room said, "Really? You like these treatments?" To this, my aunt replied with an eye roll and what could only be called a growl. The neighbor laughed and said, "Oh, you're being sarcastic. You'd think after all of these years I would have known that!"
Sarcasm has long been a forte of this aunt, but her sharp wit has also long been tempered by incredible sweetness. She was always very generous to friends and family, and with all of the helpful people in her home this weekend, I have a lot more faith in the concept of karma. She also spent a lot of what little breath she had left on instructions as to the health and well-being of other people. She asked visitors more than once if they were cold--not because she was, but because she was worried that they were. She also worried about her husband, and gave me the unenviable task of asking him if he'd been tending to his business. (You haven't lived until you've approached your 80-something uncle and said, "Uncle, I hope you don't mind, but Auntie was wondering if you've been to the bathroom....")
Of course, this hasn't all been a Hallmark movie for my aunt. She went without oxygen at home for a very long time because of some ridiculous Medicare requirements that required her to go the ER on a regular basis for oxygen until she was practically blue. Where is the sense in that? It has to be cheaper to have an oxygen tank at home than to use the ER to breathe, doesn't it?
And then there was the "Angel" recommended by the hospice who was going to spend the night at their house until the end. Well, this gal not only smoked on a regular basis (great for someone working with a lung patient, don't you think?), but she didn't just smoke cigarettes and--this is the clincher--she was a born-again recovering alcoholic who cautioned my aunt of the damnation that awaits her if she doesn't [fill-in-the-blank]. Yes, the hospice hooked my aunt up with a pothead preacher.....
My aunt was never one to suffer fools or fundamentalists gladly, so this person presented a unique challenge, shall we say. I wasn't at their house during this episode, but the "Angel" only spent one night at the house, and relatives and friends have been filling in for the rest of the time.
Another funny (to me, I'm not well in the noggin', you know) episode was what she said on occasion. After a long silence, she woke up and told my cousin she had to use the commode before they came to pick her up. Who "they" were was unclear, but where she was going was fairly plain, and my cousin and I were both amused that they suggested she approach the Hereafter with an empty bladder. How very tidy of them!
She also woke with a start and started feeling her head--apparently, "they" were trying to take her hair. Why, I don't know, but "they" were much with her over the weekend, and I think she was being eased over to whatever or wherever is next by these people, even if they had a slightly bizarre set of priorities....
There's not much more to report, but I am very, very glad I made this trip. I have not spent this much time with my aunt and uncle in recent memory, and I felt honored--privileged, even--to be able to spend a portion of my aunt's last days with her. (She's still alive, but not expected to make it through the night.)
On other fronts, it dawned on me this weekend that while the Northeast has the f-bomb, the Midwest drops the "crap" bomb when circumstances warrant. Good thing for me, for "crap" is a workplace-approved term at Big Company--and at my aunt and uncle's house, it turns out.
When the hospice nurse told that she was about to get a nebulizer treatment, she responded, "Oh, goody!" Her next-door neighbor (and dear friend) who was in the room said, "Really? You like these treatments?" To this, my aunt replied with an eye roll and what could only be called a growl. The neighbor laughed and said, "Oh, you're being sarcastic. You'd think after all of these years I would have known that!"
Sarcasm has long been a forte of this aunt, but her sharp wit has also long been tempered by incredible sweetness. She was always very generous to friends and family, and with all of the helpful people in her home this weekend, I have a lot more faith in the concept of karma. She also spent a lot of what little breath she had left on instructions as to the health and well-being of other people. She asked visitors more than once if they were cold--not because she was, but because she was worried that they were. She also worried about her husband, and gave me the unenviable task of asking him if he'd been tending to his business. (You haven't lived until you've approached your 80-something uncle and said, "Uncle, I hope you don't mind, but Auntie was wondering if you've been to the bathroom....")
Of course, this hasn't all been a Hallmark movie for my aunt. She went without oxygen at home for a very long time because of some ridiculous Medicare requirements that required her to go the ER on a regular basis for oxygen until she was practically blue. Where is the sense in that? It has to be cheaper to have an oxygen tank at home than to use the ER to breathe, doesn't it?
And then there was the "Angel" recommended by the hospice who was going to spend the night at their house until the end. Well, this gal not only smoked on a regular basis (great for someone working with a lung patient, don't you think?), but she didn't just smoke cigarettes and--this is the clincher--she was a born-again recovering alcoholic who cautioned my aunt of the damnation that awaits her if she doesn't [fill-in-the-blank]. Yes, the hospice hooked my aunt up with a pothead preacher.....
My aunt was never one to suffer fools or fundamentalists gladly, so this person presented a unique challenge, shall we say. I wasn't at their house during this episode, but the "Angel" only spent one night at the house, and relatives and friends have been filling in for the rest of the time.
Another funny (to me, I'm not well in the noggin', you know) episode was what she said on occasion. After a long silence, she woke up and told my cousin she had to use the commode before they came to pick her up. Who "they" were was unclear, but where she was going was fairly plain, and my cousin and I were both amused that they suggested she approach the Hereafter with an empty bladder. How very tidy of them!
She also woke with a start and started feeling her head--apparently, "they" were trying to take her hair. Why, I don't know, but "they" were much with her over the weekend, and I think she was being eased over to whatever or wherever is next by these people, even if they had a slightly bizarre set of priorities....
There's not much more to report, but I am very, very glad I made this trip. I have not spent this much time with my aunt and uncle in recent memory, and I felt honored--privileged, even--to be able to spend a portion of my aunt's last days with her. (She's still alive, but not expected to make it through the night.)
On other fronts, it dawned on me this weekend that while the Northeast has the f-bomb, the Midwest drops the "crap" bomb when circumstances warrant. Good thing for me, for "crap" is a workplace-approved term at Big Company--and at my aunt and uncle's house, it turns out.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Good night at The Studio
Last night's show at The Comedy Studio was a success, and this gal needed that. During the day yesterday I was the source of frequent irritation for my significant other, which, shall we say, did not exactly put a spring in my step.
True, I know the source of most of this irritation is not me but stress, which we have had by the truckload for months now. Though we love him dearly, the care and feeding of our increasingly decrepit Linus is wearing. Plus, we've both been just knocking ourselves out at work on a regular basis, and there's no end in sight.
Sigh.
Anyway, heading off to a comedy show under the emotional weather, I was understandably ambivalent about how it was all going to work. I wanted to try some new material, but didn't really have the time to test it out beforehand, thanks to my boycott of a certain convenient open mic that got my knickers in a serious knot.
What got my knickers knotted? They had begun charging comics for performing, for pity's sake--I know every performance space is short of money, but charging your performers is a mercenary bit of business, IMHO, and on par with bringer shows (in some clubs, you can perform at an open mic only if you "bring" six paying customers along), which are popularity contests, not comedy showcases. Good news: Rumor has it they have stopped hitting up the talent--I would be very happy if that was the case, for there are precious few places to test material in this neck of the woods, and eventually my coworkers will tire of being comic guinea pigs.
That said, I went up and did my usual material to great result, and even snuck in a little new stuff that didn't exactly wow, but showed promise. Happily, I had a DVD made, and now have a set that I can and will use to try to get more work, once I am free to pursue comedy work with abandon. (As long as Linus needs round-the-clock care, however, I will be only doing the minimum to keep my comic fires burning.)
And not only did I have a good set, but both Jennifer and I got a bunch of new dates from our friend Rick Jenkins. (Jennifer had an incredible set, too--that gal is comic force to contend with, let me tell you!)
So, even though I left home feeling a bit of a zero, I left The Studio feeling rather okay about it all.
And that, my friends, qualifies as progress in these parts.
True, I know the source of most of this irritation is not me but stress, which we have had by the truckload for months now. Though we love him dearly, the care and feeding of our increasingly decrepit Linus is wearing. Plus, we've both been just knocking ourselves out at work on a regular basis, and there's no end in sight.
Sigh.
Anyway, heading off to a comedy show under the emotional weather, I was understandably ambivalent about how it was all going to work. I wanted to try some new material, but didn't really have the time to test it out beforehand, thanks to my boycott of a certain convenient open mic that got my knickers in a serious knot.
What got my knickers knotted? They had begun charging comics for performing, for pity's sake--I know every performance space is short of money, but charging your performers is a mercenary bit of business, IMHO, and on par with bringer shows (in some clubs, you can perform at an open mic only if you "bring" six paying customers along), which are popularity contests, not comedy showcases. Good news: Rumor has it they have stopped hitting up the talent--I would be very happy if that was the case, for there are precious few places to test material in this neck of the woods, and eventually my coworkers will tire of being comic guinea pigs.
That said, I went up and did my usual material to great result, and even snuck in a little new stuff that didn't exactly wow, but showed promise. Happily, I had a DVD made, and now have a set that I can and will use to try to get more work, once I am free to pursue comedy work with abandon. (As long as Linus needs round-the-clock care, however, I will be only doing the minimum to keep my comic fires burning.)
And not only did I have a good set, but both Jennifer and I got a bunch of new dates from our friend Rick Jenkins. (Jennifer had an incredible set, too--that gal is comic force to contend with, let me tell you!)
So, even though I left home feeling a bit of a zero, I left The Studio feeling rather okay about it all.
And that, my friends, qualifies as progress in these parts.
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