Blunderful

Got an email. Lewis Black, the legendary comedian, at the Majestic Theater, free to students. Sweet. Free. Freeeee.

Let me preface this tale with some back story. I'm a country bumpkin. I'm now living in a big city. Fire engines pass by my window in the middle of the night - I'm talking strobes, siren, the works - and I'm startled awake believing the aliens have finally arrived. This change ain't easy. There have been many instances where I've been inches from dashing across the children's wading pool in Boston Common (now closed for the season) in a fit of madness.

But on the particular day that this particular email came bounding into my inbox, I was feeling good. I had just signed up for some collegiate clubs. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping.

So, I went to see Lewis Black with a little pep in my step, whistling the theme to Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood.

I took a seat beside some lovely girls, my hair had the perfect ratio of volume:gel:slickness. So there I was.

Mr. Black then gave advice to aspiring entertainers, and it was funny. I laughed. I cried. Finally, question and answer time. One by one, students stood before a microphone and asked Mr. Black questions along the lines of, "Mr. Black I love you and I wanna be a comic just like you and please can you give me advice I want to be you and blah blah blah."

Remember, the melodies of Mr. Rogers are floating around my cerebrum. I stood up with some confidence and approached the mic.

I thought maybe I could be funny in front of 300 people, one of the nation's best comics. After all, I'm sitting beside some lovely girls.

Me: "Hey, mind if I call you Lou?"

Silence.

Me: "Ok, well see Mr. Black I have this problem that I just can't shake. I can't seem to get over it. I grew up in a small town in Maine and well, I don't know how to cross the street."

Silence. Oh man. The delivery... not good.

Me: "Well any advice would be greatly appreciated."

Silence. Shit.

Lewis Black: "Well uhh, hmmmm. Hang on now. Well first of all, I don't think college is a good plan for you."

Laughter.

So. Hundreds of my new peers, my new professors, lovely girls, Lewis Black, all know now to stay away from the blonde kid who thought he could be funny. He can't even cross the street.

Remember the wading pool? Oh, I didn't just think about doing it.


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Burgundy Strip

Well I made it out alive.

Oh you're not happy?

Oh you've been waiting?

I was just INCARCERATED in a Chinese prison for months! I've been surviving off of week-old lomein! FOR MONTHS. Not one egg roll! NOT EVEN A DUMPLING! No General Tao's chicken!

Somehow I made a brilliant escape using a curling iron and some wet bandaids. But I'm here. In Boston. Making another go of it. Gee, I'm valiant.

So after sitting in a cold cell for months-I'll refer to that experience from now on as codename 'Wong'-I have regained my freedom and am blogging yet again.

Since Wong, I've decided to take up some new hobbies. It's a way of appreciating the finer things in life, since I came deadly close to losing it all... with not one rich, burgundy strip of terriyaki beef. Note to self- FIND CHINESE BUFFET!

One of those finer things? Gardening. I have a flower window box outside of my bedroom that faces the street. Mark my words. Before the snow flys those fricken flowers will be so colossal-they'll be seen from Google Earth. They'll create their own weather systems. I'm going down to the hardware store and nabbing some Miracle Grow.... Super Premium.

I'm also cooking now. Wong really made me appreciate the delectable entrees that are within my ability to fire up for myself. It's easy, really. For example, all I gotta do is find General Tao, and force him to make me chicken.

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Start checking back, more to come.

Wong.