Ben's blog

No Title

Boy oh boy.  It's been awhile since I posted anything.  I did my set, got really busy at work, my father went to the hospital, I caught the flu, I followed up the flu with an upper respiratory infection, and now I'm back.  Sort of.  I'm actually leaving again. 

I did my set - a damned good set if I might add - and it didn't do a damned thing for me.  I went to a few open mics, and they were the saddest, most sparsely attended open mics I have ever seen.  The Chicago comedy scene is very reminiscent of the Cleveland Theatre scene.  In other words, they both get better press than they deserve from what I can  see.  The thrill of the performance just wasn't there for me.  On my best night I was entertaining 8 people - most of whom were also performing that evening - and a drunk mouse who came out of the wall in time for each set.  He was the only one who got the smart jokes.  I assume it was a he.  What do I know from mice?

I had some realizations afterwords.  First and foremost, the club scene for performers has been long dead here.  What I see others doing is going about it as Theatre.  They get some like-minded individuals together to share cost and produce a venue for themselves.  Or, they scrape together sponsors/investors and similarly produce their own one person show.  Which is what I'm pushing ahead with.  I took up a friend on their offer to co-produce/co-write.  We're coming up with some great ideas and hopefully in a year's time we'll have this thing up on its feet.  Just in time for the Fall show season of 2008.

That open mic stuff is for the birds - or, the mice - anyway.  To begin with, they're all on work nights.  This is problematic because I'm a big pussy.  Next off, considering the attendance, I could just as well perform for the homeless people in my neighborhood.  I'm fairly convinced that some of the audience at those open mics were homeless people looking for a dark place to sleep, so the difference would be negligible.  The other thing is that I'm more of storyteller than a joketeller anyway, so the one man show is probably a better fit for me these days.  Plus, I get to work some songs and possibly a raffle.  Nothing beats a good raffle.

I'm not going to be posting on here for a while.  It tends to be a sinkhole for my motivation.  I come here, spew out a post, and then my desire to do any real writing mutates into web surfing, movie watching, and Wii playing.  (Btw, that Wii is something.  I'm totally addicted to it and I firmly believe it's the Pong of the 21st century.)  But, I would be remiss in my posting if I didn't thank those people who have been supportive with their comments.  I appreciate that you took the time, and your comments definitely had an impact on me.  Even if they didn't have an impact on me, I'll lie and say they did because I am just that polite and charming.

Ah.  There it is.  Closure.

Now, I sink back beneath the fulgent waves, like . . . Godzilla; to slumber peacefully unitl the earth needs me, again.

Another post blah blah yada yada warden yada yada

I've been really tempted to abandon this blog, again.  Not that I'm giving up on my goals, but it's starting to become a real pain in the ass to maintain two blogs.  However, if I disconnect, then the few friends I have outside Chicago will believe that I have abandoned my recent projects and will bombard me with emails like,

"Dear fucking puss,

How does it feel to have the attention span of a hamster?  You're old."

But that's good, I suppose.  The discipline of keeping two blogs helps to keep me from slipping back into the gooey quicksand of my own laziness.  It also forces me to keep a journal of my progress; which I do believe is a very constructive tool.  I've never been good at sticking with journals (lack of aforementioned discipline) but it's never too late to start.  Unless you're 90, then it's too late.  But I'm not 90.

The material has been coming along really great.  The thing that really woke me up, and helped me to find my voice again, was the realization that this shit is Theatre.  I never used to think of it that way.  I created a bare outline for my act, and got up there and did it.  It was just me being me.  Working from a script seemed fake.  I was acting since the age of 12, and I didn't want to "act" anymore.  I wanted to find myself, as cheesy as that sounds now.  The irony is that after "finding myself" I abandoned stand-up and pursued an acting career.  Yuk, yuk.  I went back to stand-up on occasion, but my energy and enthusiasm for it dwindled.  Besides, I actually made money as an actor.  The most money I ever made from stand-up still wasn't enough to buy a vowel.

Acting gave me for many years the discipline and structure that I needed in my life.  Stand-up wasn't the same, it was too chaotic.  Now, and maybe it's because I'm older, stand-up seems incredibly disciplined to me.  The idea that you're going out there and just "being yourself" is true to a certain degree; but anytime you step into a performance arena you're playing a role.  That goes for teachers, politicians, evangelists, trial lawyers, etc.  (Especially the lawyers.)  The real skill, it seems to me now, is not in being earnestly spontaneous; but in being such a convincing actor that your performance has the appearance of being completely spontaneous.  Not that I'm closing the door to spontaneity, which is essential, but I'm more open to the idea of creating a performance beforehand, rather than hoping one falls out of my ass later on.

Going to finally get around to checking out some shows this weekend.  Was going to last weekend, but shirked it in favor of seeing Superbad.  I have no regrets. 

 

In Progress

The journal, as expected, is screeching to a slow.  I'm focusing on putting together an act (as cheesy as that sounds) so not much to say.  I feel I'm at a creative peak, though, so go me.  (You don't realize how much untapped wahjoobie you've got, until you poke your brain with the old idea stick.)

On the fun side, I'm starting to investigate the solo performance scene this weekend.  As it turns out, the first show I'm seeing on Friday is run by a couple of women that I shared a venue with once.  I remember coming out to watch them each night after my segment was over.  They were the funniest thing I had seen in a very long time.  They were enough reason to turn off the TV and head to the Theatre.  So I'm very excited that they're still around.  Can't wait to say hi and watch them pretend to remember me.

I'll go out Saturday night and take in an open mic.  I hope someone there knows how to make a martini.

Like I know so much

It sure didn't take long to locate all of the alternative open mic spots in town.  They're fairly well publicized and accessible.  I checked out some of the venues, and, man . . . it's such a different environment than back in the day.

I feel like an old timer, rockin' on the front porch, reminiscing.

But the places I remember were a lot more artsy.  These open mics are like the fighting pits in Conan the Barbarian.  Or Thunderdome.  One man enters, one man leaves.  Brutal.  And that means jokes.  Fast and furious jokes.

I remember one of the best nights I ever had doing stand up.  I walked out, told the room I sucked at jokes right off the bat.  Asked if anyone had anything fucked up happen to them that week.  A guy told me he had ripped off one of his toenails and I had him proceed to tell us about it.  He was drunk and, amazingly, willing to go into excruciating detail.  It was great.  We laughed, we winced, and it didn't feel like an act.  I played mostly off of the comments other people made.  It was just . . . conversation.  Now, I wonder how the hell I was able to pull that off?  It seems like a different person did it.  Not me at all.  I've been very naive to think that I can get back to that place right off the bat.  All of my old arrogance is gone.  (Believe it or not.)

So much for my longing to be Spalding Gray.  I have to do something I haven't done in ages and that I suck at.  I have to write material.  Ugh.

I don't hate jokes, not really.  I love other people's jokes.  Mine feel phony.  But I guess I can't shoot myself down before I've even gotten started.  Maybe I've gotten better with age. 

Hmm.  How uncharacteristically optimistic of me.

I am both hating myself and congratulating myself on putting all of this in my Vox blog.  I really have trapped myself.  My ego is such that I know I have to follow through.  And, honestly, I do miss doing it.  So it's not like I'm forcing myself to do something I hate. 

Yeah, I think I just found the motivation I was looking for.  I do miss it.  There it is.

I've grown lazy and soft and . . . older.  I think a part of me jumped to put this stuff down in a public forum because, deep down, I knew it was the only thing that would get me to do it.  I've become a rather quiet, unassuming guy.  How did that happen?  I blame it on Acting.  It made me all introspective and sensitive over the years. 

I've already found a great lead on corporate sponsorship for the eventual "Ben Martini untitled project."  The problem is that this show doesn't exist yet.  The mechanics of producing it are falling into place too quickly.  I need to back off from the long term, and focus on more immediate concerns.  Baby steps.  Learn to tell jokes again.  Then remember how not to tell them.  Then think about the larger show later.  Much later.

God.  THIS is what I'm doing with my day?  I'm going to go outside and play.

 

Day Two: The Reckoning

So yesterday I posted about how, after two years of blissful couch-potatodom, I've decided to start performing, again.  It's funny, I know I was sober when I wrote that?  But it really seems like the kind of thing I would do to myself after four martinis and an Irish Carbomb.  I think I wanted to corner myself so I couldn't back down.  Now, friends will read this and if I don't follow through then they will never let me live it down. 

The actual performing is not a big issue.  Probably the greatest asset I have as performer is my complete lack of fear.  I'm not afraid to fail.  This is because I have nothing to prove to myself or anyone else.  I used to perform because I loved it.  I stopped because - for the first time in my life - it bored me.  I chose another career that was emotionally/financially fulfilling, and I thought, Wow, I can actually walk away.  And I did.  Haven't missed it one iota.

I suffer from chronic laziness, as I've mentioned before.  I could go the rest of my life with this affliction and not care.  This is because, with regard to my laziness, I also suffer from chronic apathy.  Friends and family, on occasion, have mentioned that they'd like to see me perform, again.  But until the last couple of months, I haven't seriously wanted to do it.  I guess I've been in an incubation period.  Gathering my energies and waiting until I was emotionally ready to plunge back into something that no sane person would ever want to do.  The real question now is, what exactly DO I want to do?  Or, I suppose, HOW do I want to do this?

I don't want to do this crap again unless I can do it on my own terms.  It'll be my money, and therefore my final say on all decisions.  I tend to trust my opinion more than anyone else's; and I'm a big believer in not having too many cooks in the kitchen.  The end goal is to produce a show that is theatrical in form, but has the interactive nature of stand-up.  I like the idea of basing the show around an exaggerated characterization of myself.  The faux "Ben Martini."  I picture a lounge singer trapped in the body of a lounge singer.  I want to make something that is akin to my blog posts, and directly tied to my main blog.  Only getting up and doing a scripted version of old blog posts seems boring.  I want to do the equivalent of "live" blogging.  I'm not exactly sure what that means yet.  But I'll know it when I see it.

So, what have I learned from this brainstorming session?  I want to do a show that consists of the following:

1) a character that is an extension of myself;

2) stand-up comedy, acting, audience interaction, (probably some lounge singing), blogging, and maybe some bingo;

3) a balance between scripted material and material that is created on the spot between myself and the audience.  Sometimes also referred to as "conversation."  

Well, that's a start anyway.  I think the next several months are going to be the initial period of putting all of this together.  Constant brainstorming and *gasp* going to see shows (I get bored REALLY quick with most Theatre) to make all of this gel.  By that time, I'd like to have an available venue to start getting back into the swing with stand-up.  Get my legs back, so to speak. 

I might need to develop a little material to launch from since I haven't done this in years.  When I used to do stand-up, I could never work from scripted material.  I would go in with some backup schtick, but mostly just to get the ball rolling.  I was always at my best just talking to people and playing off of them.  That's because I don't really like "jokes"; I don't like having to be "on" for people.  I love talking, I love conversation; especially when I'm the one doing most of the talking.  So stand-up for me is really just having a conversation with a room full of people.  (Maybe it's a desperate cry for temporary friendship that is mostly on my terms?  I'm ok with that.) 

My goal plan is to

A) continue developing concept through brainstorming and going to see solo performances;

B) track down some venues for working on my stand-up and commence to standing up;

C) develop my rapport with audiences so I can just "talk" to them instead of being their trained monkey. 

 

Wow, that was really productive.  And hard.  But it kept me away from the couch.  It also has made me late for my haircut appointment, so I need to go.  I'm liking this, though.  It feels like the wheels are moving, again.  I feel like Robert Redford from The Natural. 

Once more into the breach

I was thinking of subletting this space.  But instead, I'm going to start using it as a type of journal.  Excpet the kind that other people can read.  Making it less like a journal, actually, and more like a cry for help.

The more I think about it, it probably is a cry for help.  A cry of "for the love of God, someone, don't let me do this!"  After two years of hiatus from acting, I've decided to think about thinking about considering the possibility of a chance of starting back up again.

Wait!  Calm down!  Everyone!  Please!  Nothing is official yet.  Calm . . . calm . . . calm . . .

(the sound of crickets, and, in the distance, a falling tree)

It's going to be a long trek back.  I need a place to vent about the assholes I will inevitably encounter.  And also a place to vent about what an asshole these assholes will undoubtedly turn me into.  (Thanks in advance, assholes.)  As well as a place to brag about my successes, lie about my failures, and "workshop" my ideas.  Did I mention lying about my failures?  Oh, good.

A person I know (is that diplomatic enough?) wants to help me develop a one man show based on my blog.  I'm thinking of calling it www.benmartini.com.  Or maybe just calling it Ben Martini's Happy Hour with the web address underneath.  They've volunteered to help me produce, so we'll see what happens.  I trust their experience, as their a veteran of Second City and a comedy writer to boot.  The problem is that this potentially could take a lot of time.  I'm already behind on watching movies and television shows.  Not to mention, I just recently started to hit my stride with Karaoke Revolution and this "show" could really set me back.  I don't know.  I'm weary.  I'm confused.  I'm lazy and scared of doing anything productive.

My thought is to work up to something like this by doing stand up, again.  But where the hell in Chicago is there to do stand up?  This is Improv City, man.  Stand up is a lonely animal in this place.  A one man show (which is really just glorified stand up in this case) is a little scary.  It costs money to produce.  Critics come, and then they tell everyone how much you suck.  If it bombs, then I get to hear from Spacecase, "I guess we can't go on vacation this year because you blew your time and money SUCKING IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CITY!"  (Just kidding, she would never say that.  My mother would say that.)  Yeah, I don't know.  This will take some serious consideration and drinking of martinis.

If, by the way, anyone happens to read this who knows of open venues in Chicago for testing material, I'd appreciate a tip off.  I am so out of the know.

 

QotD: My Daily Dose

What websites do you visit every day?
Submitted by Chez Michelle.

 

What else?

OMG! This is like so totally brilliant!

I thought I'd jump on band wagon and abuse the word "brilliant" like everyone else.

Still, it's a good piece that puts the whole "Imus as poor wittle victim" in perspective.

 

The Individualist: Don Imus Sucks
Posted by Joe Rivett on 04.17.2007

Thank God the free market got this racist jerk off the air...

For eleven years, I have never understood the appeal of Don Imus. Ever since I saw his non-telegenic face, (He makes Alan Colmes look like a sexy beast!) I asked myself how someone so awful sounding and looking could get such a nice gig.

Did he get the gig because he was funny? Imus claims that his show is a "comedy" show. Yet, MSNBC is not on par with Comedy Central. Did he get the gig because he was politically astute? I wouldn't put Imus on par with Rush or the sexy Stephanie Miller. So how the hell did this man become so popular?

A long time ago Don Imus did a morning show on WNBC in NYC. Morning shows were a lot different then because there was a lot of music and no more than a minute or two of talking. All of this took Don Imus to the top until a man named Howard Stern came along.

Howard came to the realization that any idiot can play music so it was more important to focus on the 'talk' aspect of radio. He realized listeners wanted a DJ who was honest, funny, and willing to push the envelope in the name of entertainment. Stern was able to do racial humor and make it work because he was a Jew who grew up in a black neighborhood and his sidekick was a black woman.

When Stern began to beat Imus in the ratings, Imus figured he just had to be like Howard. The problem was that white old redneck could not be as funny as a cultured Jew. To make matters worse, Imus sounded like a racist. And there was a reason why he sounded like a racist… Because he was a racist.

According to Howard Stern, Imus regularly called the WNBC black secretary a nigger to her face. If that doesn't make you a racist, I don't know what else does. Not only is he a racist but he is a misogynist too. According to Keith Olberman of MSNBC, Imus often reduced women to tears that worked for him. When Imus was hospitalized with a collapsed lung, he referred to the nurses as whores and complained that his private chef could cook better than the hospital food.

When I heard Imus refer to the Rutgers women's basketball team as "nappy headed hoes," I wasn't surprised. What made this worse than other incidents is that the racist term "nappy headed" sounds Jim Crowish (If that makes sense). Plus, as Snoop Dogg eloquently put it, he only refers to hos as hos whereas Imus called college educated women hos and said the Tennessee team was better looking which is racist code for 'light-skinned blacks.'

To make matters worse, Imus decided to go on Al Sharpton's radio show to apologize. Did he really think Al Sharpton would accept his apology? And what a show Imus tried to put on. He tried to hoodwink America. Did you notice he didn't wear that stupid cowboy hat? And now we all know why he wears that ugly hat with that hairstyle. He then tried to show his racial sensitivity by talking about how he helps black children at his ranch.

So Imus tried to use sick children to defend himself. Oh because Imus drove a black child to the hospital, that makes him racially sensitive? No, it makes you human. He tried other arguments to prove he wasn't racist by boldly stating the federal government does not spend enough on sickle cell. It seemed like Imus was apologizing to save his career. My question is why? Imus is 66-67 years old. He could have just said I'm sorry and went about his business. He was under contract and was going to get paid ten million a year whether or not he got fired.

Al Sharpton was a sleaze ball too. I'm certainly not a perfect Christian but one of the basic tenants of Christianity is forgiveness. Sharpton demanded an apology and when Imus apologized, he didn't accept it. Sharpton also seems to have forgotten Jesus' philosophy of he who has not sinned throw the first stone, (Or something like that). Sharpton has made many offensive comments throughout his career and when he ran for president, did some highly questionable things with campaign money. I'm not going to get into what he said because it out there and I don't want this column to sound like, "Well, Sharpton is racist too."

I'm happy that Sharpton did not force NBC and CBS to fire Imus but rather advertisers did. Once again ladies and gentlemen, we didn't need the FCC to fine Imus, we didn't need politicians to solve the problem, but the free market solved the problem. When Joshua White wrote about Libertarian censorship this is why I do not feel the need to have government get involved in the business of telling us what to watch and listen to.

I'm surprised that I did not come to Imus' defense. I am usually a disgustingly strong observer of the first amendment. I even believe it is okay to yell fire in a theater, because if no one runs out, then there is no point prosecuting someone. I am not defending Imus because I honestly believe he is a no talent hack. All he did was play music for years and Stern forced him to do something he wasn't good at: talking. He was an asshole and I don't like to defend assholes.

Every Internet columnist wants to use this incident to have a racial discussion. Now we are going to debate whether or not rappers should use the term hos. They should. Remember, art is a reflection of society. Why is rap violent, because the inner-city is violent. Why do they rap about drugs, because a lot of people are addicted. Why do they rap about gangs, because there are lots of gangs. Why do they rap about sex, because people like to have sex. If inner city rappers write songs about working in a law firm, nobody will buy it. It won't be real.

So what we should learn from Imus is that racist terminology is not accepted by the free market. Advertisers do not feel like dealing with the wrath of Al Sharpton. We don't need the FCC to police the airwaves. Remember when the Janet Jackson breast incident happened, people were outraged and we haven't seen anything close to a boob since. Asking hip hop culture to write music about what white people experience isn't going to work either. If we want rappers to write more positive music, maybe society needs to figure how to solve the problems of the inner city.

 

Ben here, again.  I don't know who this guy is, but I like him.  He's the first person, other than me, who's made sense during this whole diatribe.  I've been saying all along, the whole "let's blame musicians for all the problems faced by factions of the black community" is ridiculous.  During the 60's it was, let's blame rock musicians for instilling the youth of America with anti-government sentiment.  The 70's was time to blame punk music for the high rate of teenage suicide and drug use.  Then in the 80's it was let's blame ALL popular culture for destroying society.  Performers are such great scapegoats.  Blame them, and you don't have to deal with the real problems at hand.  My rule of thumb has always been, avoid the easy answers.  Especially when you see a lot of not so bright people standing in line behind them.  These people are sheep.  Don't be a sheep.

 

The Vodka Experiment

I tried the vodka martini w/olives last night.  It was amazing.  And by "amazing", I actually mean horrible.  I just can't do it.  The vodka taste doesn't blend with either the vermouth or the olives.  You have three tastes swirling around in your mouth fighting for supremacy over each other.  Gin is the great uniter that brings them together. 

Ah, gin, I'm sorry I looked anywhere else.  But you know how it is, Baby.  A man gets curious.

SLAP! 

But, Baby -

SLAP, SLAP!

There.  Did you get that out of your system?  Now get in that shaker and stir yourself around a little bit while I get the anchovy stuffed olives.  Feel free to douse yourself with 3-6 drops of vermouth, but no more than that.  And here, wear this.

 

Oh, sorry.  I sort of drifted off into my own little world there.  Heh, heh. Imagine that.

Evolution of a Martini Drinker

I've always been skeptical of martini drinkers who choose vodka over gin.  It's fine if you're ordering it with a lemon twist, or even with no accoutrement at all.  But when I see a glass of vodka with olives, I want to retch.  Gin has a salty taste that is complimented by the saltiness of the olives.  Vodka I've always associated with citrus flavors.  Gin is like food, and vodka is like a Gatorade on a hot day. 

But then it hit me the other day.  On it's own, I love vodka.  I prefer vodka to gin, actually.  Am I just drinking gin for the olives?  And how can I assume vodka soaked olives won't taste good until I've tried them?

Furthermore, I sometimes order salads with olives in them.  I sometimes order tater tots to eat on the side with my salad.  Tater tots are made from potatoes.  Vodka is made from potatoes.

See where I'm going with this?

I bought a bottle of Three Olives vodka.  It is waiting at my house.  I will try the vodka martini w/olives.  And if I like it . . . 

We may be standing on the brink of a new age.

A time when Ben Martini switches to the vodka martini.

I know, I'm a little scared, too.  But also excited.

Martini Dawn