No tables for me, People.
I was in Las Vegas for two days and didn’t go near a casino. Some part of me thought that I should go. That’s what you’re supposed to do in Vegas. I’ve done my time chasing a few hundred bucks for hours on end. I guess I’m happy to report that I don’t like losing money. I know I have no luck at cards. I have no interest or focus to be ‘good’ at Blackjack or anything else card related. Fuck it.
It was never one of my addictions. Luckily.
I also know that I really have never thought to perform at a casino. Years ago I did a couple of shows in the lounge of The Palm but they were awful. I really can’t stand the environment.
Many of my heroes were Vegas acts. I’m just not that broad. I don’t have that appeal. I’m not going to help the place bring people in for the slots and tables. I always assumed that the few fans I had there just didn’t number enough to warrant a gig. Certainly not at a casino. I also didn’t want to put them through it. Especially if they lived there. I would assume it would be the last place they’d want to go.
When Keith Stubbs opened a Wiseguys Comedy Club in the Arts District I thought it might be the right place. Fifty seats. Four shows. It was perfect. Well run club. I think I got just about all my actual fans in Vegas to come. Five to six hundred. I brought Esther Povitsky with me to open. I have to start honing the 90-plus minutes down to 75.
It worked out. First shows were tight. Second shows were loopy and riffy. One guy who was there came to three out of the four shows. That’s all it takes for me to think I have to mix it and do something different for each one. One guy.
John Swab, the director, was in town while I was there. So we hung out and got some breakfast. Talked about film and sobriety and the weird sadness of the place. He came to the shows.
The weather was terrifying. There is no innocent weather anymore. Ominous. All of it. One-hundred-sixteen degrees. Torrential winds. Storm clouds. Then, no rain. Dirt. It didn’t rain. It dirted. On the way out I noticed the yuccas out in the desert were dying. When the prehistoric succulents are going it is not a good sign. We lost that bet, as a species.
Today I talk to the director Michael Mann about his new novel, Heat 2. We also talk about many of his films. On Thursday Nikki Glaser comes back and it gets raw and dirty pretty quick. I don’t mind that. It’s good to work that muscle. Great talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Can't Stand the Environment.
