#OldFolksHateLoudButCan'tHear
I don’t know if there’s much in this world I dislike more than moving. The process just infuriates me.
I’m not talking about actually moving — walking, working out, dancing — that’s not all that bad. (Although I’m not much of dancer unless I’m blasted beyond the point of having feelings.) I’m talking about relocating.
Loading up a truck. Unloading a truck. Loading up a truck. Unloading a truck.
That’s about my last three nights in a nutshell.
The happy part of all this? I get to do it all again in about three weeks! Woohoo!
The August move won’t be that bad, if you consider a cross-country drive not that bad. I can’t wait to arrive in LA, though, and breathe in that delicious smog-filled air. I can almost taste the pollution-induced phlegm now. Ahhhh.
Anyhow, I’m basically blogging because I haven’t done any writing, other than that which was required for work, since July 5.
I started a blog after my last standup act. But it turned into an old person-bashing blog, so I decided to scrap it.
For those not familiar, I participated in the West Branch Gong Show July 8.
After about the first three acts, which included people either 10 and under or 85 and over, I began to realize that I, being 27 and all, was a little out of place.
But I got on stage and did my thing. It was going well, and I was about 20 seconds from being done, when some elderly woman, not the designated “gonger,” mind you, actually got up out of her seat, walked forward, took the gong hammer from the gonger, and hit the gong.
Looking back it was kind of funny. I was angry at first, as about 15 family members, friends and co-workers were there to watch me.
I discussed the experience with my buddy Luke. We decided that I was probably too loud for Ethel, or whatever her name was.
Which is weird to me. Old people hate loud noises. But they also can’t hear noises at regular volume. It’s one of life’s weird misnomers. (I don’t know if this is the correct way to use this word, but screw it.)
As Luke and I were having this conversation about the mean old lady, who didn’t realize that I HAD JUST SUFFERED THROUGH 45 MINUTES OF LITTLE ANNOYING KIDS SINGING CAMP SONGS, we happened to be stuck behind two groups of golden golfers.
By golden, I mean old as shit. (I had to use shit, since I didn’t use a swear word in this entry up to now.)
All in all, though, I still feel that the gong show wasn’t totally meaningless. The people there who were my age, and a few others who were slightly older, told me they thought I was pretty funny and did well. Also, I realized that just because I have multiple ways to work a joke, I don’t have to use them all.
Especially if there’s old people around.
Other than that, I’ve been coming up more bits here and there. My lifelong homies Jason and Ryan, whom (who) I will be moving to Cali with in August, will be in Michigan soon, and I can’t wait.
The ride west will be fun with those guys, and we have some plans to shoot some videos during the trip. Watch for them on the youtube page.
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