Jazz, People!
I know it’s ridiculous but I’m just now getting into Bill Evans. I don’t want to hear anything about it. There is no more late-to-the-party. Some people will go through their entire lives having no idea who Bill Evans is. Most people. I’m not sure what my aversion was. I’m not a huge piano guy but maybe that’s changing. The Evans rabbit hole is deep, maybe endless, given the depth of the dude’s playing.
Since the lockdown and the shutdown of life, my sense of time has not been the same and has not returned. It is undefined. Hours, days, weeks, go by as one. I sleep. Nothing seems repetitive. It all does seem nebulous and somewhat hopeless depending on the day and what I allow my head to do. I am grounded though. When you can’t seem to wrap your brain around knowing what date it is or what you have to do on upcoming dates, life is pretty surprising, which is good.
I can’t really plan too far into the future but I do have a sense of what needs to be done. That’s always been how my brain works. I have things I want to accomplish and I just plant them in my mind. I don’t freak out about getting them done but if I really want them to happen or if it’s a creative project it starts to manifest in its own time. No date necessary, just the urgency of creation based on a need to understand where I am in my life and share it. Hopefully in some kind of funny, poignant way.
Lately I have started to have the nagging feeling that it may be time to start thinking about where to live. It’s not panic. I love my house. I don’t want to move. It is starting to feel like there is a momentum, certainly environmentally, but culturally too, that it may be time to give up on the American project. I know there is ‘no place to run’ but there kind of is. We’ll see. It feels like we're close to a collapse and neighbors will kill neighbors for thinking differently. Sounds crazy but it’s happened over and over again in this human world and no amount of streaming services can hold it back. They can keep us disengaged and indoors. Someone will eventually knock, then several will pound, then they will break the door down.
Just not sure I want to be home for that.
Obviously, if it’s going to rain fire and the air will be sucked out of all of us at once there’s no avoiding it but I could be in a prettier place when it happens.
This has been a dark dispatch but there is some fun on the horizon. The one date I know I am working towards is my show in NYC at Town Hall for the New York Comedy Festival on November 13. I’m starting to feel like there is a high probability that I will have an hour plus of material that I really like and that I think is relevant, good work. At least to me. I’m also excited to spend some time in the city. It’s been a long while.
I’ll be in St. Louis at Helium this weekend if you want to come see me. I know some of you shit state progressives are upset with me for not being more diplomatic when I dump on your Christo-fascist failure states but I can’t be. If you don’t want to come to the shows, you don’t have to email in protest. It doesn’t matter. I understand your plight but the truth is what it is. I know you’re trying but the jig is up. No more tunnels to get through. This is it or some slight variation of this.
Today I talk to Tim Reid about his beginnings in one of the first biracial comedy teams and his time in Chicago and at the Comedy Store. On Thursday I talk to my old friend Melanie Vesey about her strange dark journey to standup. Great talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron