I’ve been much too busy cooking recently to write any funny jokes. I’m ramping things down and getting back into poverty mode because next week I will finally end my 3 year tenure as a beaurocrat at Ohio State University, after which this TMBG children’s song will become my personal anthem:

Yeah, I pretty much just wanted to post that video… and let you all know that while I might not have a lot of shows going on at the moment, that’s only because I am toiling hard at some new creative schemes and preparing a whole new extravaganza to be unveiled at an undisclosed time.

Comfest 2010 was another spectacular affair. Stand-up Comedy at the Healing Arts Tent had a huge, albeit very tepid, reception. It was cool to see so many people interested in standup comedy, even if many of them weren’t laughing. It’s hard to do standup comedy outside. It’s just one of those things.

The Littlest Greatest Show was a huge hit at the Off Ramp Stage. Inimitable immitator Dan Montour played PT Barnum, with writerly scenester Phil Kim and Ben Shinaberry of the Dick and Jane Project portraying his freak show freaks, while we did our dueling MC schtick. The DewDroppers made their full musical debut to a completely stunned audience, with a pop-ragtime sound that rivaled anything heard on the Jazz Stage all weekend. There wre dancing monkeys, portrayed by Daniel Holt, Henrick Sawczak, Lindsay Caddle-Lapointe, Louise Eberle, Carson Moody, Matt Evans, Jillian Dyer, and Barry Burton. Finally, local karaoke master Pat Roach closed out the show with his renditioning of “Shout” that got everyone dancing. Andy took the last few measures of the song, creating a seamless transition into the Trains Across the Sea slot. A special thanks goes out to Heidi Wagner for the chance to orchestrate such insanity on stage, and alternative local comedian Matt Eyer who welcomed us on and off.

Here’s a peak at what happened backstage while the DewDroppers played:

What’s annoying about reading all the mixed (but mostly negative) reviews of Comfest this year is that there’s a base level of things that people care about seeing fulfilled to enjoy themselves, and for most people, that is achieved by mere virtue of the thing even happening. They could put a monkey with a kazoo on the Bozo Stage and he’d probably pass as entertainment for the vast majority of the crowd. In fact, that’d probably go over really well. I think I’m going to try and make that happen.

At a certain level it seems almost unreasonable to give a negative review of something that is incredibly hard to put on, but also incredibly hard to go badly, so long as lots of people are in a park together for the weekend. A beautiful thing to achieve annually, regardless of the quality of the entertainment on stage. Comfest is the one Columbus event all year that almost everyone in the city comes to. Reviewing the event thus becomes either a recasting of people’s memories, a distorted presentation of something someone didn’t see, or a confirmation that what everyone saw indeed happened. It is a task utterly impossible in scope. It’d be like reviewing last Monday.

But, since all the other writers in this city are giving unreasonable proclamations, explaining how Comfest needs to change, I figure I’ll throw my hat into the ring too. Kill the Bozo stage. That thing is loud, obnoxious, and ugly. The idea of a stage that big being at Comfest seems to be in complete contradiction to the spirit of the festival. It’s like the gas guzzling hummer of stages. Also, I have never, ever seen a band on that stage I liked that I wouldn’t have enjoyed more at any of the other stages. And while we’re at it, death to the Live Arts Stage, but not the live arts. Distribute things more evenly across all the stages. Have band sets interrupted by short plays. Let somebody erect an improvised sculpture on the Jazz Stage. Pair the punk rock bands with old women in flowery dresses who play the banjo and sing about sustainability.

Most people at Comfest are fairly immobile while they’re there, sitting in one spot and chatting with friends, so bring them different things no matter where they sit. Not only will this expose more people to a variety new things, a brilliant function of Comfest already, but it will obliterate the cliquish aura that many of these stages have taken on over the years. Come on Comfest, comfort zones are over-rated. You apparently really pissed off the haters of change this year, lets make 2011 really unbearable for them. But otherwise, great job guys!

Happy Columbus Pride everyone!  It’s my favorite time of year in Columbus – gay Christmas time.  These days are very important to me, because it’s the only time of the year I care about being gay for any sustained period, and forget about all the weird, bullshit traces of cultural and political bigotry left out there.  It’s really just a gay old time.

Oddly though the greatest part of my Pride weekend had absolutely nothing to do with Pride, and everything to do with some very funny homophobia that happened 3 miles away from the Pride festivities.  It’s all about helping a blind man cross High Street.

It began when he shouted, “Is anybody going to help me cross the street?”  I was the only person around, so naturally I offered to help.  And I was really excited to help, because despite the classic trope, I have never ever helped anybody cross the street.  I mean, I literally felt like I was about to become a scene from a Jimmy Stewart movie.

He accepted my offer.  And I went to take his hand, but he pulled it away immediately, explaining “I’m not that kind of guy.”  I laughed.  He grabbed my arm and then told me “I’m going to Taco Bell.”

“So am I.”  I explained.  ”Would you like me to take you all the way?”

“That depends, are you paying?” He asked.  Yet another joke.

“I’m not that kind of guy.”  I replied.

“Yeah.”  He said.  ”Most people aren’t into blind dates.”  Outdone again.

“You’re pretty funny.”  I told him.

“You kind of have to be…”

When we got to Taco Bell, I placed my order first, then left to get some napkins while he placed his.  When I made it back to the cash register, my new friend was barking more orders to no one in particular.  It wasn’t until he stopped, turned his head up, then said “You’re not there are you?” that I realized he had been talking to me.

“Sorry, I’m right here.”

“Didn’t anybody ever teach you how to talk to blind people?”

“…”

“Clearly not.”

What followed was an awkward interchange while putting his food on the table.  I really wasn’t certain how much longer this guy might continue to ask me to help him.  I didn’t think I would have to stay, but at this point nothing really seemed too out of the question.  And maybe I wouldn’t turn him down, but again, I’d never done this before so I didn’t really know how to expect myself to react.   Honestly, charity can be kind of scary.

“I don’t need you to stay here all day.”  He said, as if reading my thoughts.  ”Just til I get bored having you around.”

The last thing I did was help him count the number of steps from his table to the exit, so he wouldn’t have to “spend half an hour trying to get out of the damn Taco Bell.”

Yeah.  I was kind of proud of myself today, even more than usual, and a little gay that I’d gotten a whole story out of the experience.

What an amazing week. Tonight I’ll be performing in the 2nd edition of Columbus’s new Comedy/Music/Variety show Monday Night Live. I will appear in 2 sketches tonight “Art for Art’s Fake” and “Drill Instructor Drill Instructor,” both written by brilliant minds -one of them belonging to me. Dane Terry is the musical guest. Be sure to check it out, Monday Night Live happens the 4th Monday of every month at Wild Goose.

The Paul McCartney show was another stunning success. It may very well have been the happiest moment of my life… ever. To hear the songs of Paul McCartney sung live by my favorite local bands was just amazing. As the pictures below will reveal, I have never been more ebullient.

Joe Camerlengo of This is My Suitcase is singing while OpenHeartART costume genius Heidi Kambitsch and I dance behind him.

And here is the roast featuring local comedians Matt Eyer, Travis Hoewischer, Dan Wilburn, myself, and a visulation of Sir Paul’s music in the background.

I had a lot of fun this week.  Met a feisty old broad named Barbra Ann at O’Reilly’s Pub on Thursday, while out with Andy Gallagher and Ben Shinaberry.  Barbra told us that she liked oppurtunists and was impressed by our tastes, going even so far as to call us ‘erudite.’  We shared similar tastes in music.  The Supremes were playing.  Ben lit her cigarette for her twice, with a match -at which time she commented “we used to have a joke when someone needed their cigarette lit.  They would say ‘Got a match?’ and then we’d respond ‘yeah, your face to my ass.’”

Barbra is an actress with the Dublin Community Theater, and normally doesn’t go to O’Reilly’s.  She promised me that if I got in contact with the Dublin Community Theater, she would come out to see my production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf this December.  She doesn’t do e-mail, you see.  It was a very pleasant meeting.

I had a great time at Surly Girl last Wednesday.  You can hear the distinctly deep laugh of 5-Star Columbus drummer Mike Murtha in the background, while I rant and do nothing in particular on stage.

The Wild Goose Creative is honoring me by letting me showcase my work as a comic-producer for their Third Thursday event on May 20. I have decided to use this oppurtunity to put together something I have dreamed of doing for a long time, a Paul McCartney Roast / Tribute Show.

Before the show, there will be an hour long Q/A from 8-9 with myself and Travis Hoewischer on our respective creative drives, collaborations, and the stories that brought us to become both performers and producers of shows like this. The show begins at 9 with a roast, followed by a musical tribute featuring covers by local Colubus Bands. All proceeds go to support the Wild Goose Creative.

I have a quote in the Columbus Alive this week:

“This is really the time for comedy in Columbus,” said Zachariah Baird, who hosts “The Greatest Show,” a regular variety night in the Peach District. “We have so many people who have been dedicated to it for so many years that it has to be good. The whole scene is getting to be amazing.”

Also I’m on the cover:

I really mean what I say.

And with this post, my web presence begins.