The Great Unbuttering.

Here we are, Folks.

Alone with our flab. It’s been a long few days of eating and no purging. It is time to begin the great unbuttering.

Is turkey even good? I don’t think it is. I never eat it. Once a year I do. We all do, mostly. It’s not a great meat. I cooked it perfectly this year and it’s just okay. Disturbing really. The texture, the legs, just kind of nasty. I did nail it though. I nailed all of it. I timed it out perfectly this year and tried some new shit.

I made candied yams from scratch. Yams, butter, brown sugar, white sugar, maple syrup, orange zest, cinnamon, nutmeg, more butter. How could that be bad? I did olive oil and garlic mashed to counter the butter and sugar for balance. I tweaked my stuffing a bit. I made Samin Nosrat’s red cabbage slaw. I made the cranberry sauce and gravy and I got it all done well before people showed up. All I had to do was serve it.

It freed me up to spend time with my relatives. I talked to my conservative, bullying uncle for longer than usual. Most of them don’t really know what they’re talking about or really give a shit about anything but themselves. I think I got him to admit that, more or less. I guess that’s a victory.

I did see the Stones at Hard Rock Live last Tuesday. I reached out to someone I knew within the organization and was able to get a ticket for me and my brother. It was a relatively small venue for them, seven thousand. This was the first (and probably last) tour without Charlie.

People ask me if it was great. It was great to SEE them but it was sad as well. Mick was all in and doing Mick well but he is in his seventies. It’s good. I’m glad he’s doing it but there is a sadness to it. They aren’t sad, but when your heroes keep plugging away they become more like you. Human. Which is fine, but humans are mortals. I’m getting older and they’re older than me. I could see it in Keith. Like a tired warrior of rock and roll. Plodding away, plinking at the strings, lumbering. It was beautiful, but it really feels like this could be the last time. I don’t know.

Watching Keith walking back towards his amp while playing ‘Slipping Away,’ I felt it. He knew it. I knew it. He’s really done all he can and now he’s just riding it out because there is nothing else to do.

The Stones are the authentic item. No pedals. No backtracks. Straight in and straight forward. That’s the best you can be.

Today I talk to Bill Pullman. One of the great character actors. On Thursday I talk to Benedict Cumberbatch, another great character actor. Please watch him in ‘The Power of the Dog’ on Netflix on Wednesday so you can be involved in the conversation. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Turkey Day Cage Match.

Here it comes, People.

Another Thanksgiving. How’s your hope holding up? I have none. I’m okay with it. I guess hope isn’t necessary to experience gratitude. It would seem almost the opposite would be a better foundation for true gratitude, total hopelessness. Then, feeling grateful really means something. Your life might depend on it.

Are you spending the holiday with family? Do you have a strategy? A game plan? Don’t go in blind. I know you know the players but you still have to watch your flank. You are heading into the ring. The family ring. The turkey day cage match.

People get older. Things change. You may not know some of the players' moves anymore. The object of the holiday is to get through the week without taking any major hits to your sense of self on any level and not cause drama or pain in others. Good luck, army of one.

I write this to remind myself. I’ve already gotten irritated by events and things that my brain is making up about what is going to happen. I’m already aggravated. That’s how my brain works. It plays it all out, the worst of it. In reality, it never plays out as bad or as good as my mind creates. That’s my unconscious prep. I don’t think it’s a good practice. Keeps me in my head.

That is a problem I forget I have. Being in the present. If I am in relation to someone, I can be me in the present. If I am on stage, I am in the present. The rest of the time I have to fight the good fight to not live in my head or on my phone.

I’ll try to remember we are all getting older and we aren’t going to be here that long. I should just be aware of when I’m about to say something hurtful or angry or weird. Except to my uncle. I’m just looking for a reason to unload on that guy.

See, even when I write that down, I know that when I see him, a whole lifetime of knowing that guy will come back to me. I’ll realize he is just a guy getting older with some really wrong-minded ideas and thoughts that I have to call him out on. Wait. That didn’t end right.

Be careful out there in the family battles. Have a good holiday.

Today I talk to Ridley Scott about as many of his movies as I could. Thursday I talk to the film critic Jason Bailey about NYC movies. It is a live episode that we recorded at the Paris Theater in NYC when I was just there. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monday and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Sugar and Meat.

Sugar and meat, People!

I haven’t been to NYC since the before times. I didn’t know what to expect but it was great. 

I talk to my friend Lipsyte every day so I had a sense that things were opening up and functioning but I had no idea that the place was going pretty much full tilt. It was exciting to see so many people out doing things. Apparently, the vax rate and case rate here are low enough for people to have some sense of freedom. I went with it. I’ve been out in the world for months. Not the NYC world though. 

I posted an IG vid talking about my surprise that there was so much life and activity here. Immediately people who lived here chimed in with that stubborn, fuck-you-nicely energy that is pervasive here. A ‘what the hell did you think it would be like? It’s NYC, asshole’ type of attitude. I don’t know, tenuous and nervous, like everywhere else. It is not. There were masks where required and not masks if not and vax proof required mostly everywhere and it was alive. It was beautiful to see. 

Food breakdown: Mogador, Katz’s, Joe’s Pizza, Butter, Russ and Daughter Café, Café Reggio. Also consumed cannoli, sfogliatelle, pignoli cookies from Lucibello's in New Haven, brought to my Ridgefield, Connecticut show by Dean Falcone, chocolate babka from Bread’s Bakery brought to the live podcast taping by Cindy. More cannoli from Artuso’s Pastries brough to the taping by Jason Bailey. All amazing. Truly. My heart is straining under the sugar and fat. 

I want out of my body. Yay. 

Art Breakdown: Whitney Museum for Jasper Johns Retrospective and The New Museum of Contemporary Art for their 5th Triennial. Amazing. 

Comedy. 

After all these months of building this current hour and a half of material it was very satisfying to perform it in an amazing venue like Town Hall. The show was solid, tight, funny. It felt good. Mom came up with her sister and all of the important people in my life who are in this area came. It felt great. The show two nights before in Ridgefield, Connecticut at the Ridgefield Playhouse was very different and very amazing in its own way. The truth is when I’m working a set and material as hard as I have been for the last 5 or so months there are a lot of great shows and they are all a little different. 

We did a live podcast at the classic Paris Theater with Jason Bailey, the film critic and historian. We hadn’t done one of those in a while and it was fun. It made me remember all the live podcasts and radio shows I had done in my life. Getting in front of an audience in the morning. Easing into a conversation in public. Turning on the charm and juice after just getting up and getting caffeinated. Felt good.  

I’m exhausted. I’m going to see some jazz tonight (Sunday) at Dizzy’s Club at Jazz at Lincoln Center because I need some live jazz in my life. Warren Wolf. Vibes.  

Today I talk to George Clooney and Thursday I talk to Kenneth Branagh. Top notch surprising movie star talks. Real good.  

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,

Maron

Pumpkin Pie.

Right, Ladies? Right, Fellas? We all…

I don’t know. I don’t know what any of you do. I don’t know your lives. 

I’m glad I can understand most people’s peccadilloes and weird habits but I don’t have to relate to them to appreciate them. I’ve never really understood this compulsion to have a unifying language and experience around mundane behaviors or ways of life because I’ve never felt that much like many people. So, I’ve never been a comic that seeks to relate stereotypical behavior that applies to as many people as possible because I’d like to think we are more interesting than that. And we are. Whether we know it or not. 

We all contain multitudes. 

Some people have excavated or buried their uniqueness. Some people have let their brains go and allowed an occupier to take over or opted for shallowness in lieu of mental hygiene. That’s their fucking problem or gift. I don’t know. 

I just know that I can only speak for myself and hope that connects. Great. 

For instance, in the last few days I have: Baked a pumpkin pie from scratch including the crust and the pumpkin puree; I obsessed about my cat Sammy’s health for days even though he was probably fine; I offered to help the guy who came to fix my washing machine even though I know nothing about any of it (although he asked me what I did for a living because I seem ‘handy’ to him); I killed a rat with a trap and disposed of it all by myself.

Where my guys at?

In case you missed last Thursday's episode, there's going to be a live episode of WTF on Sunday, November 14th in New York City, and admission is free! I'll be talking movies with author Jason Bailey, who wrote the new book Fun City Cinema: New York City and the Movies That Made It. And we're doing this at The Paris Theater on West 58th Street, the only single-screen movie theater left in Manhattan. 

You can get tickets here: https://tinyurl.com/WTFParis 

It's gonna be first come, first served, so click that link and sign up before tickets are all gone. 

Also, I will be at Largo in Los Angeles to run the whole new set for the last time before I go to NYC. There might be tickets left. Check largo-la.com.

Today I talk to comedian Felipe Esparza about the rough world he grew up in and all the other stuff. On Thursday we are doing a special show about what it really means to be 'canceled' in comedy. How long have comedians said they're being canceled? What does actual censorship in comedy look like? And who or what has been responsible for shutting down free speech in the comedy world? For the episode we talked to comedy historian Kliph Nesteroff and Smothers Brothers biographer David Bianculli. Great shows!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,

Maron

Existential Rage.

The deep, Folks. 

Things come around. Bad things mostly. Sometimes good things. When I think about the idea of coming around it always relates to patterns. Cycles of behavior, feelings, a return back to the Earth of you, whatever shape that is in. 

An old record that looks fine but has deep groove damage from bad styluses that ruins the songs, makes them grating, but you wait to see if it goes away and try to enjoy the song anyway. 

I’ve talked about tapping into anger lately because I may have stuffed much of it down in my grief. Because some part of me knew there was nothing to really do with it. Nowhere to point it. I imagine it is some manifestation of sadness or part of the evolution of that specific sadness of loss. 

One thing I don’t acknowledge as much as I should or as much as I used to is the deeper fury. The existential rage that is in my wiring. I had an opportunity to see that recently. Not so happy to report it's all still there. 

It’s not that I thought I processed it. I’m not sure there is a way to do that. I do know that the one way to stop is not to be in a situation where it is unconsciously summoned and I know exactly what those hooks are. I really want life to be simple but I am an old cat full of old, bad habits and distorted needs and self-centered fears. I have a lot to manage in the operation of my vessel. It is so easy for a fire to start in the engine room and put the entire mission at risk. 

Anger has ruined most of my relationships. I am incapacitated emotionally by having manipulative and needy parents who put the motherboard in me. I trust no one. When people care for me or show me love it’s like sandpaper or bad electricity because I am wired to know there is a price to pay. As far as giving love, I have no idea. I’m learning. I improvise. I show up with stuff. 

Truth be told, right up until I decided to acknowledge and honor my love for Lynn Shelton, I was in emotional hiding, safe. I have been with people that have ripped me apart or required me to rip myself apart. That’s home to me. I have been with people that don’t expect that out of me and it's comfortable. When I met Lynn it felt safe. Now that she is gone and I am on the precipice of returning to the garbage fire always burning deep inside me. I also can see an ocean rift. Deep sea fish, translucent and teethed, are surfacing. I wrestle them on the deck. On the stage. 

Anger and sadness are informing my comedy in a very visceral way. It feels like it's keeping me alive. I do not know if I am processing it. I have to figure out what needs to be done to do that before I destroy myself somehow. 

I think that might be what’s been going on with my ear. The pressure and rumbling in my head may be my anger and sadness trying to explode my head from the inside. To literally blow my head off. Thankfully, it’s on pretty tight. 

Today I talk to comedian Ricky Velez about NYC, his family and comedy. On Thursday I talk to Bob Spitz about his new Led Zeppelin biography but also about Bruce, Dylan and rock music in general. Great talks. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,

Maron

We Need the Water.

Let it rain, People!

I have never craved rain before living in Los Angeles. 

It gets to a point out here where I don’t even know how any vegetation is persisting. When I go on a hike, it all just looks like kindling. Barren and sad. So, when I hear there is rain in the forecast I just hope it comes down for days. 

Of course, with climate problems, a rain forecast is apocalyptic. There may be flooding. Entire mountains may slide away. I say, ‘bring it.’ We need the relief. We need the water. I’m ready to slide into the ocean, in my house. 

I’ve been talking to the young guns lately. The comers. The new comics. It’s making me think about my own drive, both now and when I started. What is ambition? I know it when I see it. I generally know when it is attached to talent or not. Sometimes it is just the drive that is being pushed. Ambition without talent will land you somewhere but if it requires any thoughtfulness or originality it will be found out to be an empty engine. Ambition is not a point of view. 

I can never quite identify my own ambition. I know I have it. I know I have been persistent but that is mostly because I couldn’t really see myself doing anything else other than being a comic. So, I locked in. I’m a lifer. When I talk to these guys and they talk about their goals they talk about ‘crushing’ and about playing MSG. It’s power talk, it’s winning talk, it’s the big ambitions. 

My ambition was to be a great comic in the tradition of the comics I respect. It’s subjective. Culture makes decisions through popularity and dumb polls but we all pick our heroes. I can honestly say I never really wanted to play MSG. It never seemed like a good situation for me. I certainly learned how to ‘crush’ early on but my drive was something different. I believed a comic’s drive was to find their personal truth, who they were, and use it to explore the bigger truths. Yes, getting laughs was necessary because that’s how you delivered the goods. Evolving as a comic for me was very tied up in figuring out who I was as a person. At some point the thrill of getting laughs took a backseat to the thrill of discovery. It still has. I get the laughs. I’m a pro. Am I getting enough? Who decides? Me, now. 

After talking to these guys and watching some of the other young guys at The Comedy Store hammer away with their jokes I started to wonder, ‘Do I have jokes?’ Of course I do. I am still capable of complete insecurity and self-judgement and self-abuse at times. So all this crushing talk stuck in my craw and Saturday night I organized in my mind for my 15-minute set in the Main Room so I could go out and crush with my jokes. Hard. There was even some space during the set for some in-the-moment discovery, which is what makes it amazing. I was killing so hard I actually took a moment to appreciate the riff and said, ‘Do you mind if I take a second to enjoy my brain?’ 

Will it be all about crushing from here on out? Maybe. That might be what I need to be doing. Just crushing. Ambitiously crushing. 

Today I talk to young crusher Hasan Minhaj about comedy and his life and the shows he’s been involved with and his new tour. On Thursday I talk to Jennifer Lee Pryor about herself and her late husband Richard upon the release of a new, very thorough, career-spanning Time-Life box set of his work. Lively talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,

Maron

Purging.

Getting shit done, People!

I mean, kinda.

I’m purging my house. I’m trying to get rid of anything that brings me sadness or seems useless.

I finally went through the cabinets with the remaining supplements that Lynn had hoarded. I can’t look at them anymore. It makes me angry at that entire industry and at her naturalist doctor and at the idea that they could’ve helped. They didn’t. They didn’t save her. She was really sick.

That’s what all those bottles mean to me. I don’t think she ever felt well and self-medicating with supplements is fine for minor stuff but I can't help but feel if she had had a relationship with a regular doctor she could’ve, at the very least, had a bit more life.

I threw them away. I’m throwing away a lot of the stuff that collects in medicine cabinets, pantry cabinets, drawers. Some of it has been around for decades I think. I have been dragging dumb little things around for years. It just takes me a very long time to realize that they are meaningless.

It’s all becoming meaningless except for some books, artwork, music and strong artifacts of my past that keep me anchored when I see them.

I’ve gotten back into the habit of running a personal test kitchen for my own consumption just so I can eat healthier. Last week, I worked on mastering roast chicken, tahini sauce, baba ganoush, French carrot salad, roasted cauliflower and bone broth. It all came out well. I feel healthy just writing about it.

The rumble in my right ear is being treated with Flonase, Zyrtec and steroids. I’m listening to Archie Shepp as I write this and the rattling in my ear responding to his improvisational playing is adding another instrument that I have no control over. Exciting. Annoying jazz ear. Please don’t DM me about tumors. I’m on top of it. I am under a doctor's care. One who will take my calls.

Today I talk to Jane Goodall about hope and apes and people. It was an honor to talk to her. On Thursday I talk to David Chang about food and depression and anger and trying to accept joy and self. GREAT talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Vessel Repair.

How are you, People?

I’m in pain. Physical pain. Like, all the time. It’s my own fault. I have to choose between beating the shit out of myself mentally or beating the shit out of myself physically so I won’t do it mentally. 

I guess some things just aren’t going to change for me. I need to be within a certain weight range for me to believe I deserve to live. I am my mother’s son. 

I came home from weeks on and off the road and I definitely did not feel well in my vessel. My slightly heavier vessel. So, I had to focus and begin vessel repair. I was carrying a lot of ice cream and bad food choices. 

Over the last week I did my 50-minute straight incline hike and 20 minutes straight decline jogging descent three times. Alternating days. The other three alternating days I worked out. By the time Saturday came around I could barely walk but I felt like I was doing what I needed to do. I brought my calorie intake down to about 2000 a day and that became the job. 

My shoulders are fucked, my back is fucked, my big toes have been fucked for years. Now my left ear is fucked but that’s a different issue. 

This level of compulsive exercise had served me through the pandemic and through my grief. If I stop for a few days my brain goes dark and my pants don’t fit right. 

I figured out that my shoulders are probably a mess because I strained them doing pull ups and they never heal because of the yoga I do every day. My back, I don’t know. I wake up in pain. 

I decided to go to an acupuncturist. She did Gua Sha on me. Scraped at my pained places with a tool designed to do that kind of scraping. She burst a bunch of capillaries and made weird bruises all over my body. This is good according to the discipline. She stuck the needles in places and cupped a bit of blood out of others. I don’t do the Chinese folk medicine often. I’ve done it once in my life. I’m supposed to know if it helped by tomorrow. I do feel like I’ve been through something. Something less than shoulder or back surgery. 

In my heart I know that the real solution is to take it easier, maybe even take a month off. I just can't. I assume eventually I will break somewhere and have no choice. That will teach me to not accept myself. 

Today I talk to Taraji P. Henson, who I love. Totally. On Thursday I talk to Alan Ruck about Beuller through Succession. Great talks. Truly. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live! 

Love,

Maron

Dark Frequencies.

Indiana, People!

I’m back from Bloomington and home for a while. The material is coming along fine. I’m still riffing stuff out and need to lighten it up a bit. Shit is dark.

I usually go to Bloomington once a year or so. I haven’t been there in a while obviously. It was good to be back. The Comedy Attic is truly a great little club. It’s perfect for working shit out. I know most people think of Bloomington as a college town and it is. It’s something else though. I can never figure out what exactly.

Like I said, I’ve been going there for years and every time I’m there I feel a weirdness, maybe even a darkness pervading the chipper little city-sized quad. I mean, Indiana is sort of a red state shit show. This darkness is deeper and weirder. I think it has something to do with those quarries. Maybe they dug too deep and they unleashed something primitive. It isn’t menacing. Just crispy. Most of the times I’ve been there something weird has happened. With people. In hotel rooms. You know what I’m saying. That doesn’t really speak to the vibe though. Maybe mine, but not the general dark frequency, but maybe part of the cause.

It must be the layers. The primitive weirdness, the Republican weirdness, the college students that repeat themselves year after year like well grooved synaptic canals, the people that never leave the school for one reason or another, the locals and the drug addicts. It’s a strange balance.

The crowds are always great and the room is so small and tight there is no distance between thought and expression and it landing. No hiding.

The late shows get loopy because I can’t auto pilot. It’s a lot to put out.

I don’t know why I am a take-the-first-flight-out-guy but I kind of am. Especially if it's only one of a few nonstops. I got to bed around one on Saturday night and woke up at 4:15 to get on the road at 4:45 to drive the hour to Indianapolis and drop the rental off and get a 7am flight. Too early to even get coffee somewhere. Driving in the dark in basically waking consciousness while it's drizzling is a trip. Literally and figuratively. Did it really happen? It did. I am home.

The idea is, if I leave early, I’ll have a whole day at home in LA. A whole exhausted, loopy day that feels like it’s happening underwater. Totally worth getting up early to travel.

Today, I talk to Julie Delpy about her new show ‘On the Verge’ and her career and family and France. On Thursday, I talk to journalist and music critic Kelefa Sanneh about music and life. Good talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Grievance Addiction.

Home for a couple of days, People.

The Seattle and Portland shows were great.

I scheduled them so I could get a day or two in each town as well as the shows. Dean came with me. We did the Seattle show at The Neptune Theater. I believe my first theater show was at the Neptune. I like it. It can be intimate. The last time I was in Seattle I played The Moore, which is much bigger, but I’m over it. It’s about the work now. I just want to be places where I can do the best work.

Same with The Aladdin in Portland. We did two sold out shows there. All these places seat between six and seven hundred. You can still get personal in that sized space. There was a lot of riffing going on but the show is taking shape for sure.

Saw a few friends in both places. Ate a lot of good food. Hiked around waterfalls in Portland. Started some shit by posting about a guitar store in Seattle on IG. The people there treated me like total garbage and I got mad. I unleashed a shit storm of hate and grievance fire on them and some on me but it was a real lesson. I took the post down. I saw the beast of grievance addiction. Everyone is looking for someone to take down a notch to try to feel better. We can't seem to accept surrender and powerlessness in the face of our mutual problems. Many of which we created together. I guess it's easier to try to be satisfied by landing your anger than by working together to transcend and correct. I’m guilty as well.

Me and Dean were just excited to be looking at guitars. I was looking for an old Stratocaster specifically. After we were slagged and condescended to at one place we went to another place, Thunder Road Guitars. I bought a new relic Strat from the master builders at Fender. It’s a beauty. Guitar seems to be my only real hobby so I bought myself a birthday present.

I’m 58 today. My head is old.

Today I talk to BJ Novak. We deal with my problem with him. Petty. On Thursday I talk to the comedian Rosebud Baker about getting one's shit together and her grandfather, James Baker III. Yeah, Satan. Her grandfather is Satan! Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

The Catch.

Back for a couple of days, Folks.

I have to say I haven’t changed my mind about Missouri but St. Louis is great.

When I travel I don’t always know where I am. I remember some things from some places. Sometimes I’m not sure which place has what. I remembered being in St. Louis when I got there. It was definitely one of the great midwestern cities and now it's just a pretty good one as far as that goes. So many of them seem to have fallen and then slowly come back around. The lady who owns Clementine’s Ice Cream showed me around the city and let me have some ice cream and I was ready to move there. Apparently, the cost of living is amazing. The museums and zoo are free. Free outdoor concerts. Beautiful parks. Great coffee and food. Amazing record store. The catch is, you’re in Missouri. That’s a big crazy, right-wing, Christian catch. But the ice cream is very good. Time will tell.

When I was there I didn’t feel how scary the rural parts of the state are or how awful and violent the racism is but I knew it was all around. I guess, sadly, that’s the same as anywhere. When you live in a blue city in an aggressively red state your progressivism is tempered by your fear in the face of what you don’t know about your neighbors or coworkers. So, just don’t talk about that stuff. You know, politics, religion, LGBTQ issues, race, vaccines, etc. Just keep it light. Food and weather. Save it for the meetings of like-minded people.

I did go to one of the most amazing record stores I’ve ever been in. Euclid Records is a marvel. I would say it’s an old school used record store but it isn’t. It’s just a great one. With so much stock of actual quality USED records. So many record stores that claim to be used record stores just have all the new releases of older stuff or RSD releases. The other store I went to in St. Louis is Vintage Vinyl. Another place with a tremendous stock of actual old records. I bought a lot of vinyl. I’m wondering when I’m going to hit the wall with the vinyl thing. I know when I do there will be record shelves against it. Running out of room.

The five shows at Helium Comedy Club were truly great. I got a lot of work done. Despite saying shitty things about their state leading up to it, which I am not sorry for, the vaxxed crowds were great. Even though I had to deal with a bachelorette party. Old school. The babysitting job. It was fine. I still have the chops to deal. I made some really good headway with the new material and went on some serious improvisational journeys at the late shows. Mary Radzinski opened for me and she’s always great. She’s opened for me many times.

So, thank you, St. Louis!

Today I talk to Sopranos creator David Chase about the new film The Many Saints of Newark which he wrote---it's about the Sopranos when they were younger. We talk a lot of old TV too. On Thursday I talk to the creator of The Black List, Franklin Leonard, about the state of the American screenplay and quality of movies being made and the slow growing inclusiveness in the industry. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

A Nagging Feeling.

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

Freaked Out.

No more good news, People!

It really feels that way. I guess I’ve said it before. I just seems like there’s not going to be any good news about anything ever again. Now we have to grade the news on a curve. Last week, Northeast floods, deaths, Texas effectively bans abortion and health care is compromised for millions of women, fires. Arguably, if we are grading on a curve, the best news last week was probably Joe Rogan getting Covid. That’s not a judgment or an opinion. It’s science.

The news is mostly updates of the waves of plague, the wave of fascism and fires and floods.

Texas has become a bonafide dark fascist playground. Anyone can carry a gun in public now whether or not they know how to use it. Woman almost never get an abortion there. Covid is rampant and the governor is the opposite of a strong man. He’s a small man pretending. Texas is the home and headquarters of the tribalized, anti-progressive comedy movement that seeks to dismantle actual truth telling and humane humor, to displace it and become the dominant paradigm. It is a front operation for right wing propaganda whether they know it or not. Get out of Texas. Dangerous times and also a harbinger of things to come, everywhere.

To quote my producer, Brendan: "Texas is like Florida only without the lefty Jews to balance it out."

Fuck Florida, too.

I did have an amazing event happen in my life last week. While I was playing at Largo, the stage tech, Barry Skills, told me that Patti Smith was playing in Joshua Tree at Pappy and Harriet’s on Tuesday. I asked him if I could get in. He said he would check. I said I could text Patti. He said go for it. I don’t usually do that but I really wanted to see her because she’s amazing. I texted. She said I could come. Then she texted that Barry told her I played guitar and she asked if I wanted to play acoustic on the finale, ‘The People Have the Power.’ I freaked out for a few but said yes.

In the past, knowing I was going to play would’ve ruined all the time leading up to it and maybe even during it. This time, I just calmly took the time to learn the song and was ready. When she called me up to the stage it was actually fun and an honor. I think I did pretty good. It’s a small outfit. Just her, her son and a bass player. No place to hide. I Stonesed it up a bit. Felt good.

Today I talk to Shasheer Zamata about getting SNL, leaving SNL and where her life went after that. On Thursday I talk to Steve Buscemi about 9/11, NYC, acting, firefighters and theatre. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

In the Music.

I rocked it pretty well, Folks!

The combo played Largo. We have no name for the band because I wasn’t sure we were going to be a band for the long haul and obviously we may not be. I do think we will do it again in a couple months.

The experience was great. I was so honored that Jimmy Vivino played with us. He played the whole night with us. This is a guy who used to teach me licks every time I did Conan. I would be more excited to be surprised by whatever guitar he put in my dressing room to noodle on than I would be to do the show. Over the years he gave me a lot of quick lessons. Towards the end of the show format that had the whole band, he let me sit in. He would let me play a couple of tunes when he was playing with his band somewhere. Last weeks, he was playing in my band. I could barely handle it initially.

He said it’s not a competition. We are equals here. So cool.

I really wasn’t that nervous. I was more worried I would fuck up. I wasn’t scared. Just wanted shit to land and I wanted to stay in the present, grounded. No disappearing or leaving my body.

I couldn’t stop thinking, ‘Lynn would’ve LOVED this!’ She would have. She wanted it for me. She would’ve been 56 last Friday. Hard day.

For those of you who know the backstory, I believe I resolved my trauma from music camp and now want to get a bit more experience playing with other musicians and in front of people.

That’s the major thing I realized. I don’t have those kind of chops on any level. If I want them I’ll have to earn them. I still feel like an amateur, which I am, but I can be me in the music for whatever that is worth.

The only dubious call was to play the dirge-like ‘Isis’ which is a long ass Dylan song that not everyone knows. Risky. Got a little wobbly in the middle of that one. I thought they may have been bored or ready to go. I really don’t know how the whole thing was received. Like, were people just happy I did it or was it enjoyable to listen to.

I’ll figure that out later.

Today I talk to Billie Jean King about her life. Thursday, I have a loopy conversation with Zoe Lister-Jones about her new movie ‘How It Ends’ and her career. Fun talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

A Nice Theocracy.

Back from Utah, Folks!

I did five great shows in SLC. I mean it. Really connected, wild shows. With a lot of exploring, riffing. 

I loved to riff on the Mormons and they seem to like it as well. Not the standard secret underwear stuff. I try to go deeper with it. 

I always wonder why I go to Salt Lake City. It doesn’t seem like a city that would be my people but it always is. Right when I get there I remember that I like the place. It’s truly weird. As critical as I am of religion and fanatics and the possibility of an evolving fascist theocracy in this country, when I am in an actual theocracy, I kind of find it relaxing. The people are always very nice and very game as an audience. It’s definitely more weird than evil there. At least from what I can tell. It’s a nice theocracy. 

It is a Mormon-run state though, I believe. 

I got into a friendly spat on Twitter with some guy who took issue with me calling it a theocracy (which it is) and that SLC was a progressive, diverse, (not really) growing city. With a large LGBQT community and a lot of groovy people. That may be true but it is only because the elders are allowing it and it is good for business. I assume. 

I was a little disappointed I didn’t get to visit Temple Square and see the Space Jesus statue and walk around the history of the Wild West American Jesus Cult origins. It looked like something was going on there. Either a massive renovation or they built a launching pad around the Temple and are preparing to lift off. Planet Mormon on the horizon. 

I had a good time in Utah. Even though there seems to be zero fucks given about any commitment to public health I was able to host five vax-only shows and pretty much sell them out. I want to thank my Utah fans for being grown-ups. 

Today I have an in depth talk with Barry Jenkins about most of his films including Moonlight and If Beale Street Could Talk. We do focus on his new series The Underground Railroad quite a bit. It is a piece of art in its entirety and nothing we talked about takes away from the experience of watching it. On Thursday I talk to my GLOW co-star Kimmy Gatewood about her coming up through the comedy sketch/improv world and becoming a TV and film director. Most recently of Iliza Schlesinger’s Good on Paper.

Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,

Maron

Evolution

Panic, People.

Am I the only one on the edge of total panic most of the time? I’m surprised I haven’t lost my shit, like at all, in terms of panic. Not in years really. It must be because I’m older and I know how to stop it before it takes over. It is just right there, like right next to me or just on the periphery of my consciousness.

It’s become difficult to believe that things will ever get better ever again.

The data is in. It looks like all we can do is adapt to the disasters we’ve caused on almost all fronts. It doesn’t matter how much you crave a happy ending or even just a mundane ending. It guarantees nothing. I know, we do what we can, but it's starting to become apparent it’s probably not enough.

From a recent notebook: Whatever we’ve become, we’ve done it together and no amount of accountability is going to change that.

So, what is my responsibility as an ‘entertainer?' Is it to provide relief? Enforce deniability? Frame the truth as I see it in a painfully dark, funny way? I’m going with the last one. It’s always been what I do. On some level I always thought and assumed that I was wrong and weird for thinking the way I do. It turns out I’m not wrong and the only weird thing is I say it aloud and try to make it funny so I can fucking deal and maybe that will help you.

I drove out to Phoenix for my two shows at Standup Live. The next evolution of the 1:15 I seem to be landing at. Which is perfect. Taking it from the supportive safety of Dynasty Typewriter into the subterranean old school Comedy Works in Denver to the corporate style big room of Standup Live. It was great!

Making the show vax only made the audience feel better. Because Phoenix is sort of a hot crucible of political dumbfuckery and righty theatrics, the shows felt like secret meetings of the reasonable and clear-headed.

I have real questions about my approach when I perform for mainstream audiences. I cannot generalize or stereotype too much. It’s all very personal. So, audiences will have to relate to me or enjoy the fact that they don’t. I can't speak for ‘guys’ or share like I’m exactly like anyone else. I think that’s part of the problem. The celebration of surfaces.

Today I talk to Marlon Wayans, who is my co-star in Respect. We have fun. Comics busting balls. Also acting talk and Wayans family riffing. On Thursday I have an amazing talk with Liesl Tommy who directed Respect about coming from South Africa and growing up in Newton, MA and how theater defined who she became. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Structure and Themes.

The smoky, orange haze is upon us, Folks.

I was in Denver for three days. There are no fires in the immediate vicinity but the fires that are tearing through Northern California are generating so much smoke that the skies in Denver were a murky, dry, flaming haze. The sun looked like the sun on the horizon at the end of time. I guess we get used to it until… the end of time. When most of Western America is called the Great Desert.

Dealing with the sky and the altitude makes it very challenging to function. The day I woke up to leave I finally felt like I could breathe properly.

All that said I had some monumental comedy sets at The Comedy Works. It is truly one of the great clubs. It’s a tiered basement room with ceilings so low your head almost touches them. Perfect.

Coming out of months of doing short 15 to 20 minute sets at the Comedy Store every night and the four hour-plus riff shows at Dynasty Typewriter it was time to start tightening what I had. If I actually had anything. It was time to figure out what the bits were and whether or not they can stand on their own. The only place to do that kind of work is a comedy club. Where doing the job is the imperative? The job of getting laughs.

Thursday was fragmented and a little choppy but good. Though it did send me spiraling for the following day. I sat with my dumb notes spread out on a table at the Crema Coffee House in Five Points. I just sat there beating the shit out of myself for doing the work this way. The way I have always done it. I thought, I can’t do this nightclub shit anymore. I don’t need to. Why put myself through late shows on Friday and Saturday? This stuff I’m doing is delicate. It needs to be done in a supportive room. Not for drunks in a nightclub.

Then I remembered. Oh, yeah. I’m a professional fucking comedian and this is the way I have been doing it for 30 plus years. This is how you do the work. You build the set-in front of strangers in a nightclub to make sure the bits have shape and land. Truth be told, at this point, these rooms are supportive. They are my audience coming to see me. Also, there nothing like a comedy club set when it hits. That is where standup happens. It’s the best place to perform and see comedy. Theater shows are for when the frenzy of the work and the riff and the immediacy flattens into an act. Still good, but not the same.

So, despite the spiraling and telling myself I should probably quit, Friday and Saturday were amazing shows. Early and late. I started to structure the hour, figure out the themes, and work some of the bits in different ways to see what sticks. I also started to get rid of pieces that weren’t quite there.

It was a great weekend for me and I believe the people who came saw something real and funny and a bit sad and dark in places but that’s what I do.

All the shows were vax only so there wasn’t that weight of immediate fear in the room which made people a bit more comfortable. All the upcoming club shows that I am doing will be vax only. If some of you believe that infringes on your freedom you are free not to come. It’s a public health issue. Period.

I’ll be in Phoenix at Standup Live this Thursday and Friday. You can check the schedule at wtfpod.com/tour for more dates.

Today I talk to Tom McCarthy, the writer/director of ‘Stillwater’ ‘Spotlight’ and ‘The Station Agent.’ Thursday, I talk to writer/director Sterlin Harjo about his Native life, his feature films and his new show ‘Reservation Dogs.’ Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

The Edge of Tension.

The heaviness, People.

Rodney called it the heaviness.

That weight in your chest that you are trying to pull up with your mind. That sinking heartache. It’s depression if it’s depression. It’s sadness if it’s heartbreak. I will not medicate heartbreak. I well shoulder it. Move through it. Push it back.

Maybe that’s what I should call my new tour/special. Marc Maron’s ‘Pushing Back the Sadness’ tour.

I’m not sure that would bring people in.

I have never felt like I needed to do comedy for the reasons I am doing it for now. I mean, I have always been compulsive about doing the sets. It is what I do. Now, though, I am managing tangible existential sadness, heartbreak and anger that I have to alchemize into something entertaining just so I am not falling into a pit within.

My tone onstage fluctuates. I have been very focused and grounded but I move between excited connection and engagement and sharing of fears and insanity to pushing buttons and riding an edge of tension that I can’t always relieve. I have felt it a couple of times about two thirds of the way through a 15-minute set where I know the audience wants to be set free of what I am saying and even me but I just can’t do it. I brought it up on stage while it was happening the other night. I said I didn’t know why I was doing it and its making me want to laugh/cry and I’m not even sure it’s comedy and I’m not sure that matters anymore. The acknowledgement of that feeling created a cathartic moment of laughter and release for me and the audience that was amazing.

I am very aware of where my creativity is coming from right now. So is the audience. I got on stage in the smaller room the other night and just talked, quietly about where we all are culturally. It was funny, but I was using my open-hearted tone. Then I heard a woman in the audience say something I couldn’t make out. I asked what she said and the man she was with said, ‘She said she feels sad for you.’ Wow.

I remember once when I was a doorman and Rodney was on stage and someone in the audience shouted, ‘Hey, Rodney! Why are you so sad?’ It completely shook him up. ‘What the fuck does that mean?’ He said. He couldn’t really get back to his set after that.

Sometimes we crack and seep. I was able to address it directly because I did it on purpose. I let them see it. Then I let them watch me push it back. Great sets.

Today I talk to Joseph Gordon Levitt about his new show Mr. Corman and a life in the biz. On Thursday I talk to A.O. Scott about criticism, art and life. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron