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What can I say about Fred right in front of his mother?

June 15, 2022

What can I say about Fred right in front of his mother?

He was not just a friend, but we were roommates for probably one of the craziest years of my life. Living with Fred. I never needed an alarm clock. Because I knew at exactly 8:00 AM every morning I was going to hear either Judas Priest or Dio at full blast. And so did the rest of our apartment complex. And then probably another hour of just songs that he worked my name into at the top of his lungs while he showered.

Man, Craig Bischoff and I, we have birthdays back to back. Like days apart. So we’re hanging out at the Laff Stop and we got the bad news that Corey Bailey another comedian that we all loved very dearly had passed away in a motorcycle accident. And then more bad news came. And at this point, me and Craig are fucking so down, we’re bummed. We can barely drink anymore. And then Fred comes storming in with half a Vietnamese sandwich, Screaming that “Al just got shot” while he’s tearing this sandwich into pieces.

John Fred, he was wild, man. I remember going to a concert with him one night. And just, if you’ve never been in a car with Fred, you’ll never laugh as hard and be so scared in your life, until you see Fred slam you. It was also the only time I’ve ever seen Marty Finkelstein do a stage dive. It was pretty cool.

On the night of Houston’s Funniest Person Contest, I had my day planned out, but that meant nothing to Fred. And then we almost got in a car wreck because he was listening to loud music and he’d like to do this thing called car moshing while I drove. So he’s throwing elbows or I’m like, “I gotta make this show alive, Fred, come on.”

But I remember him sitting me in a corner. He had stolen the first place trophy and put it in my hand and gave me just this long screaming football coach pep talk before the competition even began. And I amazingly went on to win that night on 06/06/06. And as soon as my name got announced, I had a moshing flashback. Cause I look off to the side of the stage and all I can see are arms and elbows coming up to the stage cause he wanted to be the first one to hug me after that great moment. That was Fred in a nutshell. I mean he was loving, he was caring. He was supportive. He was insane. I mean, and I love him.

I owe his couch, a debt of gratitude, cuz it kept me off the road many nights that I didn’t need to be on it. I remember the many nights of going to the disco Kroger and hitting the frozen pizza aisle. He’ll get a frozen pizza, open the box, grab the coupon from the inside, and go pay for it upfront. That’s what Fred did.

He loved the Todai Sushi right next to the old Improv and it would almost like, I feel like I was gonna explode. And Fred was just about to turn into a John Pinette bit. The whole “you’ve been here four hours get out!” you know.

Bryan Hurzie really wanted to be here tonight. He was really broken up. Bryan and I spent a lot of time talking about Fred and I know if he were here tonight, there’d be more and more crazy stories like… Like Al said, if you knew Fred, you got a story.

As a fresh-faced young kid coming into the comedy scene, Fred never knew a stranger. I mean, everybody, everybody was immediately his pal. I always admired that about him and you know, until my very last day, I don’t know if I will ever, ever be able to forget him. And you know, it’s really cool to get to meet his mom and his brother today. And I’m sorry I had to be like this. But we all loved Fred. Fred loved all of you guys and well we all appreciate you.

— Danny Rios

I said, well, you know, I just moved up to Conroe. Oh, we got to hang out for 20 years, about 19 and a half years, we had a shitload of fishing trips. Which more drinking than fishing I don’t drink in public, but I sure made up for it when Fred came up there.

— Mark Widner

I can’t exactly pinpoint the first time I met J Fred. He had always been part of the scene anywhere comedy was to be found in Houston. He was the first person to turn me onto Dio with Black Sabbath. It wasn’t long after that we had tickets and were on our way to see them perform live in concert. From that moment forward every time I would see J. in public he would yell and sing “Rogers! “What do you say to the dead?” and I would reply “Will you forgive me for living” and the song ‘After All’ it became our greeting.

One night after a performance I stepped off the stage and wanted to get his opinion. I was still fresh from working a day job so I asked him, “Where do you see me in 5 years?” and without hesitation, in that booming voice he went off on a 10-minute rant about corporate culture and then just walked off. I stood there elated and paralyzed at the same time. Just conflicted as fuck, you know?

I always enjoyed the few opportunities I had to road trip with J. Fred or picking him up from his DJ gig on the way to a comedy show. I always made sure to tell any friends, acquaintances, or audience members to catch his set, followed with “you’re in for a treat” and they were. You never knew what to expect, but you knew it was going to be hilarious, quick-witted, and brilliant.

I’m currently East of Salt Lake City Utah, laying under the stars and asking them “Will you forgive me for living?” I can imagine hearing a reply of “yes” and without hesitation, in that booming voice, “Hey, what do you call a Mormon with no kids? A toddler!” Slainte’

— Marc Rogers

I’m gonna miss him. He was like a brother. Anytime that I would just tell my problems. When I told him I’m adopting five kids with my wife and I didn’t know how I was gonna do that. And he was just like, “Man, you’re a good dude for doing it. You’re a good dude.”

“Like, dude, I don’t know if I could handle this. I’ve never had kids, you know?”

“Oh no, no, you’re doing a good thing, dude. You there’s gonna be a place in heaven for you.”

Some of those other times, I would tell him, “You know, I don’t know these kids, they drive me, mad. I used to do that to my dad all the time, man.”

He would always encourage me. And he would just say, “Frank, just take a deep breath, before you beat them. And if you don’t beat them, they’ll never learn.”

And I’m like, “what?” That was his sense of humor, you know? I miss him a lot. And as far as the fishing trips go, I tried, I just didn’t have any patience.

So, all you guys here have got great stories, but I was just a grain of pepper, in his life.

You know, there were times, I wouldn’t see him. Maybe every three months, sometimes six. There’d be a time when I wouldn’t see him for a year. And then all of a sudden he pops up, like that pesky pimple that I got right here. For someone that was headlining. And I was, I was just an open mic-er and it’s not like he took me under his wing. He made me his friend. I’m too emotional and it’s been since September and I still feel ’em, you know. Now when I look at my kids, I think of him. I’m like, damn, who’s gonna stop me from beating them. The kids did meet him and they loved him.

I miss him and I know you guys too. Without a doubt, I know he’s in a better place, because Houston sucks. I’m sorry, But that’s all I have.

— Frankie Torres

The last time I saw J. Fred though, it was at mom’s coming out show, I mean first stand up at Rudz, you know, you were wonderful and seeing your son was incredibly proud as he was excited. And I knew he was excited because he ignored the rest of the world. I was sitting right next to him when he didn’t even know it. It was a beautiful night to watch mother, and son, be in that same performance space together. I had tremendous respect for J Fred because he was, you know, we can joke about how he was without boundaries, but he was loving and supportive just like you guys said.

It’s true that Al was working for me, the day that he got shot. I get a phone call from J Fred, who says, “You’re not gonna believe this, but our best friend got shot in the foot, um, fighting over Vietnamese sandwiches.”

So he says, “Al is at Ben Taub.” And so everybody, the lawyers in the office got in the car and ran over to Ben Taub to see what happened to Al. You know, this big, large room with beds and everywhere and people, you know, it just looked awful scene. And there’s my, my really good friend Al B laid up and it was terrifying to think that he’d been shot and getting the story from him. And he gets to the point and he is laughing and smiling.

Like, “Wait a minute. You’re not acting like you’re a victim as a lawyer. I kind of know what the role is. You should not be smiling and laughing.”

He goes, “No, man, you’re not gonna believe it. J. Fred kicked their ass!” And I’m like, “No, no, don’t be saying that loud.”

Al, he goes, “Why I should be quiet?”

And I go, “Why?”

“Because there he is. There’s the guy that was that, J. Fred beat up. I’m just rubbing it in”

“What?” I turn around and see there’s another guy with a swollen face who’s handcuffed to the bed.

If you know, knowing Jay Fred you knew where his heart was at and I would tell you right now, I don’t think I ever hugged him enough. He’s just somebody that, that he felt incredible energy when he hugged you. It was just, that there was a power and a strength. And he conveyed that without actually physically hugging the way he treated people, the way treated himself, the way, the way he took care of other people.

J Fred was a very, very special friend and you knew that very easily and quickly. The other thing I would like to comment on is how he was as an entertainer. When I met him, he was already a featuring act at the lab. He was already foundational at that point as well. And I, yeah, I really took a liking to him just as from the entertainment point of view because when I was growing up, I idolized Robin Williams, Robin Williams was just so fast and, and, and characters and voices and all this, an animation and, and so entertaining just to be around. And so was, J. Fred, whether you knew it or not, you were my Robin Williams.

— Stephan Rubin

The very first time I met J Fred, I was over at a fish fry at my good friend Al B’s place, where we just watched hours of The Simpsons. This was the very first time that I was there and Fred was there and maybe said three words the whole time. And Al didn’t really introduce cuz I guess there was no one to introduce and his friend was sitting there snoring. Most of that time Fred was just sleeping on the couch, sitting up while we watched all these Simpsons episodes. Eventually, I was like, “Al, who the hell is this guy?”

“Oh, it’s J Fred.” Like that explained everything.

Okay. So the next time I hung out Fred was awake that time, but then I got the full political ramblings of why they put fluoride in the water and why you should avoid it at all costs. I was like “Al, who the hell is this guy?”

“Oh, it’s J Fred.”

The third time we moved the fish fry over to Sister Sara’s house. It was my first time there. And Fred gave me a tour of his room. He was like, “Oh yeah, here’s the Las Vegas Comedy Festival that I was a part of. And I also opened up for Lewis Black. And here I am with Mitch Hedberg.”

I was like, “Al, who the fuck is this guy?” And Al would give the same answer, “Oh, it’s J Fred.”

Fred truly was larger than life. And every time I met him, it was almost kind of like meeting a different person. But depending on where we were, Fred was the person that came out. We had always planned several fishing trips together which never panned out. I mean he could talk fishing no matter what was going on. He would be down to talk fishing, no matter if it was the appropriate time or place or not. The man was down for a pretty good fishing trip. After Al moved to LA, and I kind of lost touch with Fred.

As the time went by, he popped up. I forget where, it was like J. Fred sightings. I would be on my way to DJ at the radio at Rice and he would just appear on the Metro and sit down and talk to you as if it was 10 minutes ago. And that was the last time we talked and he would continue to tell me why I should stay the hell away from that fluoride.

I don’t know if fluoride was the magic thing, but it was something like that. Where again, even knowing in several years you kind of go, who the hell is this guy? That guy was J. Fred. And he was a special guy, he was a magic guy and I’m gonna miss him.

I’m gonna miss him along with the long list of others who have passed away. His comedy was truly magical and he was definitely one of a kind. And he got to do some really, really cool stuff that most people only dream about. And that was J. Fred.

— Ramey O’Brien

Most folks go to TED Talks, this is my Fred Talk. To know J. Fred is to love him and to love him is to be highly annoyed by him. He was a hurricane, a giant German shepherd of a human being who left laughter and trails of pure destruction in his wake. You couldn’t help but love him. He taught boundaries, by stepping all over yours.

My favorite memory was the time that he saved my life and put me in danger at the same time. If you heard this before, here’s a director’s cut. It was like around June 5th, 2003, I got home from work, and out of my shoes and John Fred goes, “Hey Al, here’s $20. Get some Vietnamese sandwiches. We’ll go watch Mitch Hedberg at the Laff Stop right after.” “I’m in!” And I just slipped my untied shoes back on and bought the sandwiches. So I get back with the Bahn Mi sandwiches and as I get out of my car which is under my apartment facing Hawthorne st. I see what I think is a homeless person walking toward me. And I’m thinking, “Man, this is the last thing that I need.” And before I could finish that thought, it’s a gun to my face and the dude says, “Be quiet. Don’t do a thing because you’re going to lose.”

And I snap and I jump out of my untied shoes, knock the gun out of his hand and the cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. I land on top of him and we both go for the gun at the same time. He grabs the gun before I could and puts the end of the barrel at my foot. And before I could I could finish thinking, “He’s not going to shoot me in the foot is he?”, he pulls the trigger.

As this is happening, Fred is upstairs playing his guitar and he hears me drop the sandwiches. He runs downstairs and sees me on top of the guy with my left arm around the guy’s neck and my right arm around the guy’s arm which is holding the gun.

“Fred, he shot me.” And Fred grabs the gun and throws it in the bushes. And that’s when we hear the guy’s getaway driver peel off.

So Fred starts kicking the dude in the face. The dude falls down with a thud with me on top of him. Fred runs back to the apartment and gets his phone to call the cops. A couple seconds after Fred runs off, the dude gets back up with me on top of him.

So now I’m hold holding onto the guy’s neck who’s trying to shake me off like a rodeo clown. I squeeze tighter, Fred arrives and it’s, “Round two! Fight!” Fred is just kicking and screaming and punching while I’m just hanging on and choking the dude. And that’s when the neighbors show up. Why? Because we were cursing while it happened. “Be quiet! There are children here!”

“Like shut the hell up. This adult shot me, another adult. I’m gonna curse as much as I want.”

And then the neighbors actually help us, and they sit on top of the dude that shot me. So while I’m waiting for the ambulance to show up. Fred finds the guy’s pack of cigarettes on floor and starts smoking them in front of him and starts making comments like, “I know it’s June, but don’t worry, orange is a fall color.” It took my mind off the crazy intrusive thoughts like “will they have to amputate my foot? And does this mean I’ll be limping for the rest of life?”

I get to Ben Taub county hospital and they sit across from the guy that shot me. And of course, I’m giving the guy that shot me the middle finger. How can I not?

All the attorneys I worked at the law office show up at Ben Taub. All they really did at Ben Taub was stack towels on top of my bleeding foot for five hours and tell me to come back later for an X-ray. I get home on crutches and grab my sandwich. I take a bite and I realized Fred ate my sandwich. Still the best tasting sandwich I’ve ever had.

There’s so many, so many stories, so many crazy moments in between performances. I’ve lived with him for probably about three years. Right up until till the time he threatened me with a spatula. We’ve had our ons and offs, still he had moments of wisdom, moments of clarity, and moments of insanity. And there are always moments of insanity.

He always had sayings that stick with you like, “Riot the time is now!”, “Don’t expect A work from a D student.” and “Their emergency is not your fire-drill.” You know, like if you needed help, you could call Fred at 10 o’clock at night or morning and say something like, “Hey Fred I had a flat. Or hey Fred, I was offered 50 pounds of crawfish, do you have an extra cooler? Can you help? And he was there right there.” He made my emergency his fire-drill. You know, he would give you the shirt off his back and sell it to you. There were fish frys. He loved fishing. He loved playing the guitar. He loved, he loved singing your name into any song he came up with. He loved Last Concert Cafe. And most of all he loved each and every one of you guys.

— Al Bahmani

When I started out in comedy, I saw J. Fred. I remember the first time he sang, “The Brady Bill”, a great song. I was like, that’s genius, the Brady Bunch theme song mixed with gun control. It’s great.

J Fred was a great guitar player. He’s really really good. I do a little bit of guitar just at home. You know, I never not in public or anything. And we would talk about that a lot. I remember him one time telling me he was playing his guitar so much that he actually formed blisters on his hands and thumb, and the blisters would pop, and then he would put super glue into the little hole that formed. And I was like, wow, you’re, you’re a lot more hardcore I will ever be at playing the guitar. J. Fred is definitely, you know, very funny, sometimes, bits of his in my head would just pop up. You know, like a restaurant where somebody walk-in, talk to the host will go, “Hey, I want two for the lunch section! Two for the lunch section!” “Oh, okay. Let me sit in the lunch section, right this way.” I always thought that was great. “There’s no lunch section. Why do people say that?”

I think that’s about it. That’s about all I have to say. I just want to do some of his material. Just to hear him.

— Andrew Kresse

Fred was my friend we’d play music together. Even though he told people he was just rhythm. He made me feel like I was just the most special person in the world. Every time I was with him, he would give me full attention. I think he did that for everybody. Yeah. And I think that he really did love all of you guys, especially his brother. I’m not gonna tell you what he tortured his brother. But I used to get on him all the time. I said you should be, you should call, call Graham up right now and tell him how much you love him. Because he always told me how much he loved you. And he, he always talked about you and Al B, he loved every one of you. He was crazy and annoying, but I never hated him. Always loved him. And I miss him greatly

— David ODea

I got to know J. Fred before I actually knew Fred. I met him through Graham. Graham was a good friend of mine and I would always hear about Fred. So when I finally met Fred, you know, he would come to some of those things we did on the weekends. And then one day he showed up at the Last Concert Cafe and I was like, oh yeah, he’s a comedian. We had a comedy night and Fred started coming there and hanging out and he was so helpful. He would come early, cuz I think he rode the bus or something, but he would get there like two or three hours early and he would help everybody do their jobs. I mean, he was a lovely person and that would work. And then I think he would wear himself out, he was a great announcer and emcee. He was just a good guy. And I’m really glad to be around people who get Fred, you know. I didn’t know what I was walking into and I’m just really feel good now that he had all of y’all And all y’all felt the same way we did. Thank you all.

— Dawn Fudge

Well, I just wanna thank all of you for coming out tonight. This it’s, it just, it does my heart. Good. It really does. Fred loved every one of you. He did. His hugs were just to die for, and I miss his hugs so much that he was always good to me. You know, he always would call me up, “Mom, what do you need? Can I do anything to help you?” My mother always said, any man, that’s good to his mother is God has a special place in heaven for him. I missed him at Christmas. I didn’t even bake cookies this year cuz he wasn’t there to eat ‘em. Easter was hard too, but I know he is in a better place and that helps. He always called me a church lady.

Well, because I’m a United Methodist minister and there was the sister Sara Show every Sunday morning at 11 o’clock. I was 30 years in the pulpit. When I decided to do standup comedy, he was so, so supportive. He really was. And, and I told him, once I said, “Fred, I just wanna make you proud of me.” And I think it did.

One time after Fred had finished a set, an audience member handed him a note and the note said, “I lost my son two years ago and I thought I’d never laugh again tonight for the first time I laughed.” And that really struck a note with Fred. I’ve seen the note, he kept it, and uh, made me realize how healing comedy really is.

You cannot laugh and be miserable at the same time. It’s very healing. But it really is important. I think to know that what you guys do in your comedy is a very important thing. It’s very healing and it’s really tremendously important. And I just thank all of you for being here tonight. And, and church lady says, I love all of you too.

— Sister Sarah

Well, thank you, everybody. I grew up calling Fred, Fred. So finding out that he was going by J. Fred was a surprise. So many Fred stories.

About 1991, Fred comes home and decides he wants to do stand-up comedy. So I got in front of my mother’s typewriter and I said, “I’ll help.” Let’s write you an act. I drove him from San Antonio to Galveston, to Houston, Kingwood Woodlands, everywhere. Anywhere there was an open mic, Fred would get up and do this act. And he finally got his first paid booking in Galveston at the old Flagship hotel.

So we got a room and I drove him to the show and he does it and killed. We got back to the room and turned on the TV and we caught a rerun of the Golden Girls and he realized where I got all his jokes. We bonded over it. And we rewrote the act.

And when Fred was on, Fred was on when he was off, he was you know. So I learned to leverage. We were in an HEB grocery store and the lines to the cash registers were around the corner. Well, they kept making announcements. “Could we get more cashiers up front? Could Janice please get to register four! Could I get a price check on number nine?” And I look over and Fred is gone.

Fred had watched the managers on the in-store mic and figured out the telephone code they dialed. So he snuck on his knees underneath an empty register, got the phone, dialed the announcement code, and said, “Thank you for shopping at HEB. As customer appreciation, we are offering free beer in the delicatessen. Free beer in the delicatessen.”

You have never seen a stampede like that, people left their carts towards the deli. So we navigate through to the front of the line. And as we’re checking out with our Totino’s party pizza and spray starch. He loved spray starch. We get to the checkout. We’re gonna score. As we’re getting out of there. Fred makes the mistake of speaking in his radio announcer voice. And that manager realized it was Fred. We were summarily thrown out and banned from that HEB.

And then I remember, I guess this was about 1989. We made the mistake of deciding to live together.

So I went to this apartment complex and I walk in and they look me over and they decide that I’m such a refined young man. They had three complexes, A, B, and C. Well, C was the quiet complex where they put all the old people. Well, that’s where they decide to put us. Anyone who knows Fred knows this is a bad idea. So they put us upstairs above this poor poor woman. I’ll never forget her name, Mrs. Sears and we lived together for six weeks. I mean, it didn’t go well. And Mrs. Sears kept marching up to our front door every night, banging on it and please quit giving high heeled shoe lessons. And we’re like, what is she talking about? Well, Fred had that walk.

So it wasn’t working out. I wanted out, but we had a lease. One month, I go down to the leasing office to deliver the rent check. And the leasing office woman is just like, absolutely not. “I’m not taking your check, get the hell out!” And I said, “but we have a lease.” And she opened a filing cabinet and pulled it out and tore it up in front of me. I was never so happy in my life.

I have so many other Fred stories. The eggs that used to disappear from the refrigerator. My mother’s a very intelligent woman in many ways. but she’d come into the room all the time. While we were watching TV as kids. And she’d say, “You boys go through so many eggs.” Well, of course, we were throwing at cars. She also was like, “God, y’all go through a lot of hand lotion.”

I can’t think of any, I loved throwing things at cars. He loved playing guitars. He loved dogs. Oh yeah. Dogs, love dogs. Uh, love the beach. Love fishing, The guitar, And the guitar. And dogs, dogs always big dogs, big dogs.

I’ll never forget it was at the Comedy Showcase had a contest. The Funniest man in Houston, is that what y’all call it? So I think he was a finalist or something and he kept going and kept going and, and we would go in groups and the group kept getting picked and bigger and he would go in and all my friends would wait outside and have to pay $10 to get in. And we were like, okay, well I guess he got wise to it. And he wrote a song and performed it. It was called “Let’s have a contest”, it went, “Let’s have a contest. We can make the locals work for free and charge their friends admission “

And that already got the manager running toward the stage to kick Fred out. But that’s when the mallet came out and he decided to play jingle bells in his head and yeah he started bleeding, and anyway, all right. Which got him thrown out and disbarred from the contest.

The show America’s Funniest People were coming to the Houston Galleria on the day after Christmas to audition people. Fred gets me up at like four in the morning. I agree to drive him to the Galleria and I drop him off. We don’t hear from Fred for 16, or 17 hours. He calls about 9:00 PM that night. He waited in line behind 3,000 people. Wow. Got on stage and played jingle bells on his head with a mallet. It was like a wooden instrument. It was beautiful.

So I pick him up and we are driving home. We get home and there is a message on the machine. He has been picked as one of two people out of 3000 to be on America’s Funniest People, the following Sunday night.

So we all gather as a family around the TV and we watch it. Well, then Don Nelson and Jan Glenn had a morning television program on ABC 13. They called cuz they had heard Fred was gonna be on that night. And they asked him if he would be on live TV the next morning on their good morning show.

So again, he asks me, “Would you drive me down there at four in the morning?” Of course, I even put makeup on him. So I drop him off at the stage door and I race home. And again, as a family, we sat around to watch him on live television. Don Nelson comes out, and Fred is there on live TV with his guitar. And Don says, “Fred, tell us a joke.” And Fred strums, the guitar and says, “What do you call a diet for illegal aliens?” And Don Nelson went, “We’ll be right back after this commercial”.

Then we get a phone call from Fred. Can you come and get me? They’ve blocked me out. Basically, the hook came out, when they came off commercial break, the stage manager pulled him off stage, threw him out the back door, into the parking lot, and locked the door. Fred wandered to a payphone to call for me to go and get it. So I picked him up and I’m like, “So you’re not gonna be on tomorrow?”

— Graham Gemoets

Featured, Shameless Self Promotion!, True Lies

It’s Show Friends in Show Business

February 17, 2022

It’s not often true friendship and show-business combine. No matter how hard you try, you really can’t like everyone. Everyone you like might like you less. What’s the old saying by used by jerks to justify the hack crappy behavior? “It’s show business not show friends!” Who needs 30 pieces of silver when you have a spot to perform at a pub that used to be a comedy club? Alliances and rivalries come and go at the drop of a hat. Despite all your cynicism, and self-doubt, you meet someone and you make a real friend.

No longer do you watch other comics with a sniper’s eye view, hoping and praying for them to trip up, bomb, and die a horrific death on stage which would hopefully lead to nothing short of a good old-fashioned whupping. You start to see this person’s artistic and professional advancement as a good thing and well deserved. You catch each other’s shows when in town and not do anything else. When the chips are down off the stage, you got each other’s back. Help each other move, crash on the couch, share rides to gigs, mics and just hang out. And then, the unexpected happens.

Laff Stop, Houston, Texas late Saturday night, Outlaw comic, Carl LaBove has a restless sold-out crowd and my good friend Theodore M.E. Taylor is opening tonight. This is the third and final show of the night. Feeling claustrophobic, Theo heads to the green room and chills out. Minutes pass, the straggling drunks from the second show finally settle their tabs with the wait staff and get out. Seating begins and ends with military-like precision. I decide to get my stage right peanut gallery view of the stage.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WELCOME TO THE LAFF STOP! THE OLDEST COMEDY CLUB IN TEXAS, TONIGHT WE HAVE ONE OF THE ORIGINAL OUTLAWS OF COMEDY, JUST RECORDED A COMEDY SPECIAL SHOWTIME AND WILL BE SEEN ON BIOGRAPHY! GIVE IT UP FOR CARL LaBOVE!

The audience goes wild with applause.

ALSO, GIVE IT UP FOR YOUR FEATURE, HE’S A REGULAR ON BOB AND TOM GIVE IT UP FOR DWIGHT YORK!

The applause gets louder.

AND NOW GIVE IT UP FOR YOUR HOST AND EMCEE FOR TONIGHT! THEODORE M.E. TAYLOR!

Then, I realize Theo is still in the greenroom.

THEODORE M.E. TAYLOR… THEODORE M.E. TAYLOR!

Applause turns to confusion.

WILL THEODORE M.E. TAYLOR PLEASE COME TO THE STAGE!

Split Second, I think to myself, Aw Screw it!

I think opportunity has knocked and I run-up to the stage.

I got this friend that wants to fuck a dwarf.

A wave of laughter devours the stage.

Alright, it’s me. Hold on. Let me explain. I’m just in it for the story. Just about every hack comic has them I screwed a little person story. They’re all pretty much the usual I fucked one, please insert a small joke with a pun here. Doug Stanhope actually claimed to have hooked up with a little person and he doesn’t even have a story or joke for it. There have to be more variations on the genre of little person fucking? Is there a Jack Kerouac beat-inspired story popping with confusion, jazz, and Benzedrine? Where’s the young dwarf coming of age tale? The Anne Rice dwarf fucking story that spends 5 pages detailing the stitches of clothing on the dwarf’s dress. There has to be more to this sub-genre.

Applause get louder.

Well, at least for a split second inside my head.

Cause quite honestly I don’t do that set and never had because it sucks and you can’t polish a self indulgent turd. That sort of set would earn you multiple upper cuts between your legs by dwarf comic Lil’ Rob Armstrong.

As reality crashes in and I bolt to the green room, and shout, “THEO! GET YOUR ASS TO THE STAGE!”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!”, Theo shouts as he runs to the showroom.

Theo sprints to the stage and has an awesome show.

“What The?” I tell Theo after the show.

‘You know, Al if it were you late for the stage, I would of taken your spot.’ Theo tells me.

“In a New York minute?” I ask.

“In a New York Minute!”, Theo assures me.

Trust me the thought has entered my mind. Yet, I feel content. Something must be wrong with me.

You know what’s not wrong with me? Catching me live on stage and having some laughs! Saturday I’m performing at a Pacific Plate Brewery with Eddie Pepitone and many more funny folks in “Punchline for Pangolins” All the money raised goes to Johannesburg Wild Life Vet and Global Conservation Force. You can get tickets here!

And I’ll be in Toluca Lake Monday opening for Martin Moreno, Felicia Michaels, Jill Kimmel, John DiResta and many more funny folks at Korrupted Comedy LA at Mrs. Robinson’s Irish Pub! You can get your tickets here!

Featured, True Lies

J. Fred Has Left the Building

September 30, 2021

To say J. Fred was intense would be like saying the Rolling Stones were just a garage band. If you met J. Fred, you had a J. Fred story. He was that memorable. Fred stood 6 ft 2 inches tall and larger than life. With an announcer’s inflection, Fred boomed instead of speaking and he played a mean six-string.

On stage J. Fred was high energy, subversive, and the perfect way to open a show. Fred crafted one-liners sharper than a mosquito’s pecker and played that guitar till he super glued his fingertips to prevent further bleeding. On stage, the song parodies blended seamlessly with one-liners into something that had to be seen to believe.

When I first met him, he was the only comic that left 2001’s Houston’s Funniest Person contest with an agent’s card. He opened for Lewis Black, Mitch Hedberg, Norm MacDonald, Louie Anderson, Lahna Turner, and Ralphie Maye. He was a fixture of both the Houston comedy and music scenes. You’d catch him everywhere from the Improv to the Laff Stop to Last Concert Cafe to Rudyards to Fitzgerald’s to the Mucky Duck to Avant Garden to wherever you could find a stage.

He played the road, taught Comedy Defensive Driving, and also remembered what was it like before the Comedy Boom went bust in the early ’90s. He was one of the few comics that started at the Comedy Workshop Annex where Bill Hicks and Sam Kinison started.

He’s one of my oldest, nearest, and dearest friends I’ve made in stand-up. He was the Lenny to my George, the Rick Sanchez to my Bird Person, the Oscar to my Felix. Fred taught boundaries, mostly by stepping all over yours. Whether he was eating your food without asking, speaking so loud your right ear was getting deaf, or waving a spatula at my face angrily. You’d eventually learned to step up back at him when he stepped on you. Sometimes he’d back down, other times not so much. Eventually, things would come to a head and you’d have to have to take a break.

He was far from perfect and would fall into moods and spiral into darker periods of self-destruction. Periods of going for shocks and awe instead of laughs. Playing songs on his head with a mallet. When Fred was in a dark place, he wanted to bring everyone down with him. The applause of the audience and playing his guitar and being with his German Shepherd dog Shephra soothed his soul. He still ruined the illusion of Flashdance for me.
Still, if you needed a helping hand, (or a helping kick or two.) Fred would roll up his sleeves and pitch in. It’s still hard to stay angry at someone with a good heart who heralded your name in song. He had songs for us all. When he played you couldn’t help but listen.

Occasionally he’d listen to what’s on your mind and give some seriously solid advice. He was a voice of wisdom and madness. I still find myself repeating sayings like “Don’t expect A work from a D student.” “Your emergency is not my fire drill.” “Haunted comics are comics who hear ghost laughs that aren’t there.” “Riot the time is now!” “Quack Quack!”

He loved books and fishing. There were plenty of fish frys and Simpsons marathons. Up until his vision started deteriorating his bookshelf was filled with true crime, horror, and rock and roll biographies. He also tended to lose keys, cell phones, and bicycles. He loved Led Zepplin, Rodney James Dio, Rob Halford, Judas Priest, The first song he played was Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head. He’s one of the reasons I have a soft spot for musical comics.

He is survived by his brother Graham, his Methodist minister mom Sister Sarah and the many friends he made performing comedy and music inside and outside the Houston, Texas scene.

Featured, True Lies

TBT-Requiem For A Comedy Club

August 30, 2019

December 19th, 2009, the Houston Laff Stop closed its doors.

Here are some facts for those of ya’ll at home keeping score.

Last open mic night: December 9th, 2009

Last host and emcee: Barrett Goldsmith

Last feature act: Mike Vance

Last guest spot: Slim Bloodworth

Last headliner: Carl Faulkenberry

Last club owner: Don Learned

Last general manager: Scott Garrett

Last doorman: Frank Garcia

Last bartender: Michael “Roach” Duran

Last winner of Houston’s Funniest Person Contest: John Gard

Here’s a link to the Houston Chronicle’s Retrospective

http://www.chron.com/entertainment/photogallery/Laff_Stop_19812009.html

Here’s ace reporter Dusti Rhode’s account

http://blogs.houstonpress.com/hairballs/2009/12/laff_stop_houston_closed.php

I told a friend. His response, “The Laff Stop is closed? I thought it closed years ago.”

Others still have millions of questions.

“So what happened?”, they all ask.

Some people claimed to read the writing on the wall way earlier. Some go as far back to ten years ago. One person said the first domino fell down the night management changed and Larry The Cable Guy was booked to a sold-out crowd.

Others point out allegations of embezzlement, a double shot of alleged managerial incompetence mixed with a bad economy.

Older faces quit, new faces appear with the consistency of a revolving door, lackluster crowds, perks disappear, new rules and times for open mics, goodwill gets lost on all sides of the club dynamic and locations changes, loss of local showcases, apathy to comics, apathy of comics, beer sold by the bucket, Gilbert Gottfried having trouble to fill the venue, comics feeling no longer welcome, comics moving forward in life, comics falling out of life, comics being banned from open mics, comics being forced to choose performance space. And that’s before the Laff Spot bought the Laff Stop.

Yes, the copy, the Laff Spot bought the original, the Laff Stop. It’s weird and confusing. Like Coca Cola being bought out by Koko Coola.

During that time club owner, Don Learned was given a chance to buy the Laff Stop, he was already planning to move his club, ‘The Laff Spot’ from it’s Willowbrook location to it’s Louetta Road location.

Most likely that change of venue didn’t do as well as planned. With enough resources to run one comedy club at a time, Don Learned was forced to make a decision. Which club do I keep? Do I keep the one in my name? Or do I keep the one with the better reputation and location that’s not in my name? In the end, he chose to save the one in his name. Faced with the same set of circumstances’ Do I save my kid or the adopted kid?’ many people would do the same.

For many weeks the inner knitting circles of Houston comics were buzzing rumors.

“Did you hear about the Stop? Keep it a secret don’t tell anyone.” gets repeated over and over, leading to Friday, December 18th, 2009 comedian Scott White posts the Facebook status update which sends ripples across the internet.

Leading to Shecky Magazine.com posting Laff Stop closing in 14 Hours.

http://www.sheckymagazine.com/2009/12/houston-laff-stop-closing-in-about-14.html

What I didn’t understand. Why the secret? Wouldn’t it make better sense for comics to know? Wouldn’t it make sense marketing-wise? The Chronicle and other media venues could have gotten involved. More people would have come, filled out the club and give it the send-off it deserved. For many folks their time at the Stop was magical. It should of ended with a bang, it ended on a whimper. It was a third show on a Saturday night with 50-60 people in the audience and a gathering of knitting circle comics who haven’t hit a stage in a long time, taking photos and snatching keepsakes when nobody was. It could have been grand, instead, it was meh.

“Feels more like an execution than a goodbye,” Staci Komp tells me as multiple comics take their keepsakes as a reminder of times past. Rob Mungle tells everyone about the impromptu Irish Wake at the original location which is now the Sherlocks on West Gray.

What did I get myself into?

Here are some of the things overheard at the Eulogy.

I remember hosting an open mic and a headliner bumping someone off the list. So I said, ‘This next act calls himself an Entertainer. If you have to use the word Entertainer in your name, you’re probably not one. Give it up for Cedric the Entertainer.’

–Martin Walsh

Sarah Tollemache, Diane Cups and Kristin Lindner team up and rip on each other a new one. Billy D. Washington recounted his one side abusive love affair with the club. And reminded comics to look beyond the cliques. Rob Mungle thanked everyone in a speech that made even most hardened bastard get misty-eyed. It was a bittersweet night which ended with little baby getting on the mic.

Even got a souvenir too!

Gone are the Wednesday night open mic lines that start at 3:30 pm. Gone are the nights hanging out comics, staff, and fans after a show. I remember seeing Mitch Hedberg rock the mic. Don Irrera giving advice. Doug Stanhope recording “Die Laughing” right after 9/11. Gabriel Iglesias, Felipe Esparza, and Armando Cosio giving me my first guest spot. Interviewing Dane Cook in the green room. Shooting sketches with the Boscos sketch comedy troupe. Watching the Brassy Broads and Black and Blue shows. Driving Daniel Tosh to his hotel room. Hanging out with Bryan Hurzie, Niki Key and the many talented cast of characters that populated the Houston scene. Witnessing Dave Attell doing a sold-out show and living up to his reputation. Chuckling to myself knowing every show started with 2 video shorts Mark Babbitt had me shoot. I remember the Open Mic on 9/10/2001. I remember taking a bus to sign up on a Monday night after my car died a painful death. Albert DeLeon and Larry Simon teaming up to disturb people. Monday nights were spent learning to make strangers laughs. So many characters, so many memories, joy and pain, it was a good time. I’m glad I made the most of it.

Later at the Comedy Showcase, Annual Christmas Party / Cajun Queen Birthday Bash. Caroline Picard makes proudly displays the chaffing dishes that go back from her old restaurant from way back.

“It’s just like the time before, back when the comedy boom of the 80’s went bust. Time to get off the pot or shit. A lot of ‘comics’ are either going to continue on or get a new hobby. Take a look at today’s big names. They’re the ones that kept on going.”

Ultimately that is all we can do.

*Montage photo of Houston Laff Stop Comedy Scene Regulars by Steve Ryan more can be found on www.Marley.net

Photo from 2006 Houston Comedy Festival by Marc Katz

Currently as of 2019 there are only 2 comedy clubs in the greater Houston area, The Secret Group & The Houston Improv.

Featured, True Lies, Uncategorized

Space City Madness

March 1, 2019

Houston, Texas, a long time ago….

“New beginnings are scary at first.”, Slim tells me as we sip coffee on the patio. I had just settled into my first apartment by myself in Montrose.

Suddenly, “Ahhhh! I cut myself because I was angry at him!” the 17 year-old girl next door bursts out of her apartment. She yelps as she drops her large blood-stained kitchen knife.

“Honey, why you crying?” Slim asks.

“It hurts!”

“Of course it’s going to hurt, it’s a knife that’s what they do when you use them on yourself. “ Slim has me spitting out my coffee.

I excuse myself, head to my apartment and grab a random shirt from the door. I wrap the shirt around her arm.

“You know what you did is stupid.” Slim continues to hit the hapless girl with savage one-liner after one-liner.

“Yeah, you’re right Slim, new beginnings are scary at first.

The ambulance arrives Slim and I finish our coffee. That’s when I knew I was home.

I think of Slim’s words as I hug her wife Alex as I head out of Texas to California…

Featured, Shameless Self Promotion!, True Lies, Uncategorized

Keep-It-Moving

March 26, 2018

“So Al, what have you been up to?”, asks an old Houston Comedy Frenemy.

“You first, because it’s going to sound like I’m bragging.” I then stretch out both my arms back and point to the poster on the back door of the Comedy Store, “I’m hosting a show at the Belly Room.” They then walk away from me.

“But wait! There’s more!”, I declare as I hear them speedwalk halfway past Bill Hick’s name on the wall.

“The toilet paper had a baby on it and it winked at me.”

— Jay Light

“And that’s how I found out I’m not made for cage fighting”

— Glenn Bolton

“The music is bumpin’ so loud, she won’t smell this.”

— Rasheed Stephens

“I got an inflatable Dick costume, $65.95!”

— Becky Robinson

“They were normal till they found the bodies in the basement.”

— Amanda Cohen

“By the time we got home, there were 15 people protesting with us.”

— Rich Slaton

“So I meet the guy with the lie detector at the Arby’s on Sunset.”

— Josh Nasar

“Sometimes after a vasectomy, it fixes itself.”

— Porcia Bartholomae

“That dude got the devil in his eyes. You got you into this mess. I’m sorry, but I got to go.” – Nia DeBose

Top to Bottom left to right, see quotes below.

Top to Bottom left to right, see quotes above to match comic.

Kyle Ray’s Bedtime Stories at the World Famous Comedy Store: Real Life Real Funny. If you’re interested in storytelling Kyle Ray even wrote a pretty solid guide here. Kyle’s in Vegas right now, I’ll be hosting. For tickets click here…

Nia DeBose runs sound Pamela Walt and Steven Garza Isak Allen’s “The Yoga Incident” Now On Funny Or Die!

“So Joey (Gaynor) what side were you on during the comics’ strike?*”

“The right side.”

“And that side is?” asks “I Am Sam Kinison” director Adrian Buitenhuis.

Top Photo by Jerry D Photography Bottom right to left Q&A Panel line up, Lue Deck’s POV behind the scenes of his part of the documentary.

* (For more information on the strike, you can read more about it in William Knoedelseder’s book “I’m Dying Up Here”! Season 2 Premieres on Sunday, May 6 at 10 pm ET/PT. It’s Jim Carrey’s baby, starring Melissa Leo and Ari Graynor, Al Madrigal, Erik Griffin, Rick Overton, Andrew Santino, Earl Skakel and more!**

**Not a Spoiler TV show wise, names, histories, legends have been fudged enough to make your own speculations. That’s half the fun. Season 2 of Showtime Series produced by Jim Carrey gets released in May!)

Left to right Me, Joey Gaynor behind Corey Feldman, Adrian Buitenhuis, Dan Barton, Felicia Michaels, Judy Tenuda, Bill Kinison & Ron Jeremy Photo by Jerry D Photography 2017.

Some folks get to represent Houston, with an Astros jersey. Me, I get to moderate a panel at the Comedy Store’s Main Room for “I Am Sam Kinison”, a documentary about Houston’s greatest comic.

“Houston has a comedy scene?”

Every time I hear that from a fellow comic, I honestly want to vomit blood on their shoes. That goes double if they’re from Houston.

Yeah, Houston has a comedy scene.

In fact, Houston was where Bob Newhart was given his chance at recording “The Unbuttoned Mind” when Chicago wouldn’t take a chance on him. Houston also extended the chance for Mitch Hedberg, Doug Stanhope, and Louis CK and many more to record their albums at the old Laff Stop on West Gray. Houston was also the city that gave a former Pentecostal preacher named Sam Kinison a second wind as a stand-up legend.

What Snoop Dogg is to rap in Long Beach Sam Kinison is to comedy in Houston. From Bill Hick to Ralphie Maye to Carl LaBove to Rob Mungle to Slim Bloodworth to Olivia Arrington to Danny Rios to Caroline Picard to Reverend Bart to Warren Wright to many many more names who I got to tell Bill Kinison himself.

“Many more of them burn out self-destruct, goddamn do they burn brightly.” I shake Bill’s hand and he laughs.

Even though he’s been dead for more than twenty years, you can hear that primal scream in Joe Rogan, Joey Diaz, Bill Burr, Doug Stanhope, Erik Marino and so many countless others who were influenced by the man. Each comic took that intense wave of dark energy and rode it off into their own direction. And it gets bigger if you include the number of comics influenced by those he’s impacted.

To do a proper Sam Kinison doc you’d need an unlimited budget and the running length of a Ken Burns documentary series to even barely scratch the surface.The filmmakers did the best with what they had time and budget to allow.

Did you know it costs 20,000.00 to license Sam’s “Wild Thing” music video?

Ultimately the hope is that the documentary is watched by a new generation of fans and comics who decide to dig deeper. Everyone has their own Sam Story and as far I’m concerned they’ve all been toned down to be believed.

Other things of note regarding the documentary. There’s Houston Comedy Workshop Annex footage that has been hanging around in a garage for thirty plus years. I also found myself starstruck by Judy Tenuda. There’s just something about a woman with an accordion. If you’re the smartest and funniest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room. I’ve never been so glad to be in the right room.

“Have you thought about doing a podcast?” Mike Schmidt asks me.

“Eh, I only listen to a few.”

“Al, as a comic, you need to expand your horizons. You work hard and I’m offering you an opportunity to expand.”

“I don’t know? What it would be about? It’s gotta say something.”

“Exactly. Think about it and pitch me something.”

I peek through the Comedy Store Original Room and catch a snippet of Argus Hamilton as he shoots out a new one political one-liner. Knod my head and wave to various comics as I duck and dodge my way to pick up drink buckets for comics to slip their names in.

Goat Vs Fish meets comic and former SNL screenwriter Erik Marino

Later that night, Sarah Kenny picks a name out of the bucket.

“Let’s give it up for Goat Vs Fish!”

In the beginning, there was goat and fish! The Goat-Fish! And the goat versus the fish! And the fish Versus the goat! All is goat versus fish! There is no alpha or omega! No good or evil! No black or white! There is only goat versus fish! Only one question, “Are you a goat or are you a fish?” This one who calls himself, Joshua Meyrowitz, are you goat of fish! , He then points at Joshua Meyerowitz.

I don’t know!

Answer me!

I knew you were going to ask me that question.

I now produce The Goat Vs Fish Podcast every week at the World Famous Comedy Store. It’s about 20 plus episodes in and quite honestly like FLCL, I don’t get it but I enjoy the hell out of it. You can download an episode from iTunes and wherever fine podcasts are found.

And I also help produce “Andrea Loves Everybody” at Comedy Pop Up Studios with Andrea Guzzetta and Paul Anthony Verdugo. Every episode Andrea explores emotional minefields with an inquisitive mind, a sharp wit, and an open heart. Also available on iTunes and wherever fine podcasts are found.

So I’m producing podcasts I want to listen to now.

And I’ve been showing up on tv shows, but that’s another set of hijinks. More to come! What and where I honestly don’t know.

Featured, True Lies, Uncategorized

Touchee Jackson: He spoke as fast as he lived.

May 2, 2017

You might remember Donta’ (pronounced Don-Tay) Touchee Jackson from that time you wanted to kill him. When we first met, we threatened to kill each other at the Tavern open mic. That feeling passed as quickly as it came back and passed and came back and forth. To know Touchee Jackson is to curse him out.

He was a tall mountain of a man who spoke like the love child of Mr. T and Boomhauer. Touche spoke his mind and gave you a piece of it, (*whether or not if you’d want to hear it). Once you got to know Donta, you already knew, you’d want to hear it twice. You knew where stood with him. And he knew where you stood with him.

Over the years, we always ran into each other for brief moments. An open mic here, a local show here or a night spot there. Those moments in the trenches between and after the mics up to no good.

81+One year, on his birthday, he took the time to help me replace the water pump on my 1997 Nissan pickup truck. As you move forward in life, you don’t spend time with someone you hate just because. I offered him some cash, he didn’t take it, but he did take a beer.

Then came random texts of “You talk to Touchee’?” to multiple phone calls leading to social media posts through the different parts of the city and the world. Then more frantic texts leading to frantic calls leading to frantic voicemails and a somber realization while prepping out dick jokes at a Monday night open mic at a bar.

The church service was the first time some comics actually saw each other in years. I get lost listening to other Houston comics.

“Man that preacher’s got good stage presence!

Wow! I had no idea old dude is still alive?!

His son’s so big now!

Man, Billy D. gave a good eulogy!

You riding out to the the burial.

Yea, I need to fuel up first, I’ll be right there.”

And then I get lost on the way to the burial ground.

“Hmm, this flower shop might have directions.”

I wander to the flower shop and get in line behind the two people buying flowers. I ask for directions and out of guilt, I buy the cheapest flowers I could find.

“$7.00! Damn that’s a lot of money for flowers.”

I can now hear Touchee heckling from beyond, “Albee you’re stupid! Men don’t buy men flowers! Put that back fool! Put that back!” I ignore imaginary Touchee, pay the cashier and follow their directions to the burial ground.

I park my car, next to comic cars I recognize and head to mourning tent to pay my respects. I get settled in line when I see Carolyn Agnew waving at me from across the street. I scan the mourners and confirm, I don’t know anybody here. Yup, I know no one here. The Houston comics are at the burial tent across the way. I wave hi to Carolyn Agnew and smile awkwardly. I’m so at the wrong coffin.

So, I have two choices. Do I walk away, let it slide and rejoin my fellow comics. Or should I go back and get those flowers back. As I turn around to retrieve my $7.00 offering, I feel a tug at my sports coat. I turn and I see an old frail lady who smiles at me with tears in her eyes.

“No prob.”

I head off to join the rest of the gang. Somewhere outside of space and time, I can hear Touchee Jackson calling me stupid. I curse his name one last time as I pay my respects.

Featured, True Lies

Delusions of Adequacy

February 25, 2016

*Names have been changed to protect the delusional.

Houston, Texas

The Laff Stop December 10th 2008.

“Someone is humping the stool on stage!”, yells a comic to the outside bar signaling the peanut gallery of characters to run inside and see what’s going on.

On a long enough timeline, every piece of furniture in a comedy club will get sexually molested. Both the mic and stool on stage have seen more action in the last few months than all the comics have had their entire lives. Add alcohol with free speech and stool humpings are bound to happen.

G. Martinez approaches the stage, lines up his crotch up to the bar stool and asks the audience the all important question, “Does this make my dick look small?” .

A few uncomfortable chuckles later, G. rhythmically thrusts and grinds his pelvis on the bar stool like a cat in heat who’s meow mix had been dosed with ecstasy.

“Women like it when you fuck them slow!” pearls of wisdom that have been repeated by every drunk who has a story to tell at 2 am in the morning are imparted to the jaded open mic audience.

“Sometimes women like it rough!” G. increases his thrust speed as he grabs the stool and stage dives off into the audience. A few drinks go down with him as he thrashes about in the front row, humping, beating and jumping. He then simulates orgasm thrusting the mic forward from the his hands as it almost hits the audience members and crashes with audio feed back that made ears bleed.

The mic is dented and a few tables and chairs are knocked around.

“Your time is up”

With one minute and a half of his three minutes of glory are left on the clock Scott Garrett , the Laff Stop’s manager, cuts off the mic and informs G. Martinez.

J. Fredrick Rhetoric ends ups going on stage early and starts playing a couple of chords of his guitar while a new mic is found.

‘You don’t go around, break furniture and a two hundred dollar mic!’ Scott informs G. Martinez.

‘You don’t understand! I’m a misunderstood Comedic Genius!’ G. declares before he storms out of the club comedy club.

Later that week both the Laff Stop and Laff Spot receive calls from an ‘anonymous source’ asking, “When are you going to book that amazing new talent G. Martinez?”

Featured, Travel, True Lies

Texodus: Prequel

February 12, 2016

Note: Originally fully compiled September 23rd 2005 from made before during and after Hurricane Rita landed on the Gulf Coast which was a couple of months after Hurricane Katrina and edited around.

According to Wikipedia was “the fourth-most intense Atlantic hurricane ever recorded and the most intense tropical cyclone ever observed in the Gulf of Mexico”.

When the only bird you see flying in the air is a buzzard, that’s a good sign to leave.

Hurricanes take time to hit or just strike, I can stay or go.

The stars do look good tonight.

Danny Rios, and my neighbor Brandy piled into my little red Nissan pick up truck, combined our resources together and have formed a tight knit mini tribe. The previous 48 hours I had been on phone saying goodbyes, texting friends.

I also spent the part of the day, hurricane-proofing a friend’s place with duct tape, a chipped electric screwdriver that loses it’s screw bit, 12 boards and random drift wood.

Danny Rios and Brandy take turns, walking on side the road. I’m the only one that can drive stick. Cds and a used iPod make the trip go down faster with a soundtrack by the Violent Femmes, The Ramones and The Clash.

The trip to Austin normally is about a two or three hour drive depending on which part of the city you’re leaving from. How can I make such good writing notes?

Well the entire hurricane evacuation, this Texodus has been 14 hours straight of driving, I mean crawling in a modern day caravan. I barely feel legs right now. and can do only so much to keep mind occupied. This crawling in traffic really sucks. No air conditioning, this really sucks. Someone left their animals dead on the road. Some have just stopped, ran out of gas literally and emotionally. Hotels and motels from Eagle Lake on are maxed out in occupancy. Some gas stations and rest areas have become make shift campgrounds of automobiles.

Head is getting heavy right now. Must…. Stay… Awake….

“Eat, sleep, and shit shrimp. Head out get laid, get drunk, and head out to get laid is what I plan on doing.” that was the line to remember from the Baytown gig at the Tiki Hut. The man who said it had one leg and was bearded shrimper in a cowboy hat.

It was a fun gig with big audience of 10 people, not comics but people at bar. While a hurricane is about to hit the state. Wow. I noticed all the tvs are on the Weather channel. “That’s to bring up Drink sales.” explained the one legged shrimper. “We’re doomed, enjoy the $1.50 long neck and the $5 dollar sirloin steak and baked potato.” That’s a silver lining to the upcoming dark clouds literally ahead on the horizon. The steak was good and quite honestly that was the best tasting baked potato I’ve had in the longest time.

Wednesday morning my mother calls me, and share with me the Texapocalyptic vision she had in sleep last night. The plants in Pasadena release out a chemical which gets in the air and just kills people. Army rounds up the rest and kills everyone in the Astrodome. And that’s after the babies are raped.

We each do things to keep our minds occupied in between the sluggish pace, phone calls, and text messages to friends and loved ones. Brandy tries to takes a photo right before her battery craps out. I want to capture this moment. Must remember the little moments. Danny Rios reading the Houston Press on upcoming shows at coming into this city that have been cancelled like Hurricane at the Improv. You can’t make this up. Brandy peeing on the other side of 59 south near Sugar Land.

It’s the little moments you remember the most.

Other moments like near Sugar Creek in Sugar Land, this dude comes out passes out cups of water to people that needed or wanted it. “I live here, I just want to give water to those that need it”. Five minutes and five blocks later Danny points something out. “Holy Shit! Uncle Joey (Coco Diaz) is passing out water!” Actually it wasn’t. It was a dude from the Taqueria Arandas has people passing out water and pasteries. In the imaginary movie version or tv show it could be Joey “Coco” Diaz. I’m surprised at all the goodwill that has been going down still. It’s been good to see the best coming out of people when the chips are down.

I just want to describe it all with my words and some times words are just never enough.

Epilogue: Hurricane Rita missed Houston and ended up hitting Beaumont, Texas. The trip really wasn’t needed, but I got time off from work and got to visit Austin, Texas. Much work to catch up with.

Featured, True Lies

And Breathe..

November 26, 2015

Disclaimer:

If you’re looking for journalistic integrity, politics or a moral at the end, go somewhere else.

October 14th, 2015, 12:40ish am

The World Famous Comedy Store on the Sunset Strip, Los Angeles, California

To say things were crazy is a bit of an understatement. Roast Battles at the Comedy Store by nature are intense experiences. Yet the verbal slugfest of Jay Light vs Kim Congdon ended up being just the cherry on top of a wild and crazy night. Somewhere in the beginning of the Roast Battle Jamar Neighbors and the Wave had just switched sides and antics with “The Haters” Earl Skakel, Omid Singh and Keith Carey. Then Roast Master General Jeff Ross had arrived with Anthony Jeselnik adding to the on and off color commentary of Joshua Meyrowitz, Brian Moses, Justin Martindale and Tiffany Haddish. I also lost my first Roast Battle to Madison Wisconsin’s Funniest 2011 and newly christened Comedy Store door guy, Mike Schmidt. A couple of moments later that becomes the furthest thing from my mind.

Erik Myers was performing in the Original Room to fellow comics like Don Barris and David Taylor and the audience inside. The audience from the Laff Mob Show were hanging out at the Comedy Store’s front patio with the other comics like Brandt Tobler, Olivia Grace, and Josh Nasar. Young 23-year-old Richard “Rick” James was standing at the Comedy Store’s front doors as an unidentified man wearing a grey hoodie and gloves walks towards him. Meanwhile fellow Houston comics Nia DeBose, Mark Hurtado and I take a step towards the patio entrance of the Comedy Store.

“Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!”

“Firecrackers?” I say to myself as I keep stumbling into the chaos as Nia, Mark and various people with more sense than me start to run off into their own different directions. I see broken glass from dropped drinks, comics, patrons and staff huddled in the corners of the bar hiding for cover. Then from the corner of my eye I spot a guy in a grey hoodie pulling sideways trigger after the clip had been emptied. He turns around and sprints into Sunset Blvd down Olive St.

“Breathe in. Breathe out! Breathe.. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay with us! You’re going to make it. You’re going to be alright.” Josh Nasar calmly tries to console Rick as he starts to shiver and gurgle in his arms. When most folks were thinking about survival, Josh Nasar leapt in and tried help out young Rick. “Anyone have towels?!” Josh exclaims. Rose the bartender rushes towards the back to get towels as I sheepishly hand Josh stolen napkins from my linty pocket. 911 is called and it ends as quickly as it began. Rose arrives with towels and tries to stop the bleeding. Rick shivers and gurgles his last breath while in both their arms. Not all heroes wear capes, some just happened to be on “Sons of Anarchy” and work the bar at the Comedy Store. To quote another Josh, “Much respect Josh. Much respect Rose”.

Police and an ambulance arrive within minutes. Comics in the Belly Room like Izzy Salhani, Anna Valenzuela, and Rasheed Stephens start to realize something is up when they see a tearful Rose running into the Belly Room followed by Don Barris. Rumors and speculation start to percolate from the back of the Belly Room. Kim Congdon delivers a savage zinger and confirmed word arrives in the form of Mike Schmidt pausing the show “I need to make an announcement.” “Oh what, someone got shot?” jokes the Roastmaster General.

The show goes on and everyone is corralled into the parking lot. It’s a tense moment. People check in on one another and ask each other “Where were you?”. Some take photos while most start searching for a zinger that just won’t come. Maybe there might such a thing as too soon? What’s the point? Are we safe? Are less comics going to go to the Store? Or are more comics going to show up because they hear less comics are there? Will the audience still be there? Earl Skakel throws out a couple of one liners and the folks around him in the parking lot erupt in laughter.

People are only permitted to leave 5 at a time after they answer a series of questions.

“What was the suspect’s ethnicity? Did he have a beard? What color clothes was he wearing?”

Even fresh memories are weird and bendable things. Some said the shooter had a beard, while others claim he was wearing a bandana over his face. Some saw gloves and identified the firearm as a Glock. Off record everyone has their own theories. Maybe it was a hit? Gang related? I don’t know. So much went wrong, yet so much went right. Nobody else was hurt. The show went on. Ironically that cramped and sweaty Comedy Store Belly Room was the safest room in the building.

Everything around me started to mute itself and go down a couple of notches. The trek up King’s Rd with Nate Hurd and Josh Meyrowitz didn’t bother me as much as it usually did. So much uncertainty and neurotic thoughts entered and danced around in my head.

The following Thursday the Comedy Store reopened its doors. I figure I might as well show up. Once there I realize my neurotic fears were just neurotic fears. Both comics and audience were back in full force. There were hugs, fist bumps, drinks, snark and bittersweet laughs. For a moment I found myself staring at the entrance a little too long. Yeah, I’m still showing up.

So much happens at the Store at any given night. At times it can be a fantastic wonderland where celebrities, headliners, hopefuls, and unsavory characters of questionable moral fiber mingle freely. Other times the Comedy Store is a dark place where insecurities are amped up and preyed upon by those who need the pain of others to warm their cold dead hearts. Opportunities are made and dreams are crushed by the minute. What’s there not to like?

It’s still a Reece’s Peanut butter cup of crisis and opportunity coming together in a tasty bittersweet imperfect mix of silliness and madness. An open mic segment at Erik Marino‘s Show Up Go Up could easily morph into a podcast or an event of it’s own which can spread across the nation like wild fire. The Roast Battle Show is proof of that. The shows that seem to fill up the room are usually the result of comics coming together organically to make something happen. Comics see something work and someone pitches in here, someone else pitches in there and cool things happen. Cool things like Roast Battle with Brian Moses and Coach Tea, Kill Tony with Tony Hinchcliffe, Until I Lose Interest by David Taylor, The Comedy Store Podcast with Rick Ingraham and The Ding Dong Show with Don Barris are proof of that. It’s still a petri dish of creative anarchy. What most folks would call a festival in Houston, Texas is what I call just another night at the Comedy Store. Changes are made and the show goes on.

Weeks later, outside the Belly Room where the roof meets the stairs I overhear Josh Nasar reveal to Melissa Eslinger what was going on in his head at the time. “You do what you do because it’s survival instinct. You can’t torture yourself with the what ifs, could of beens. You don’t think about these types of things, you just react. You do your best, move on and react to the moment.” And just like that my anxiety goes down a couple of notches. I find myself gazing at the stars and enjoying the moment.

Then Mike Schmidt taps me on the shoulder to tell me to stop sitting on the roof.

*Photo by Troy Conrad

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