Missing our NYS Thruway exit at Route 14 in last night’s rain storm... I angrily continued on to the Route 21 exit...
As Eileen made a seemingly inane comment about things happening for a reason and that we must be meant to take Route 21 north home to Pultneyville... I chalked it up to various reasons... The late hour... The long and harrowing drive home through the storm… The humidity... The fried bar food we had called dinner... Take your pick...
Leaving the toll booth and turning north onto Route 21 and following the signs towards Palmyra, NY... The sense of the inevitable filled the car... Rain continued to pour down, hydro-blasting the windshield of bugs and road tar as the wind buffeted the car I struggled to keep it on the dark road... Illuminated only by the great bolts of lightening crashing all around us...
Rounding a bend in perfect sequence with a lightening strike... We saw the reason we were meant to take Route 21 north home through Palmyra through the rain driven glare of our headlights...
Coming to a stop on the now dark and deserted road... Jumping from the car and we both ran ahead in the road... There in there middle of the road were several tablets...
...To be continued
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Road Rash...
Leaving the house Tuesday evening for my drive west and another leg of my mid-west tour… Pulled into a rest stop on the western edge of Ohio approximately 1am intent on using the facilities and “resting my eyes” for an hour or so… Waking up in the front seat of my car 6hrs later with no clue where the fuck I was… I guess I needed to do just a little more than “rest my eyes…
I really like performing in the Midwest… It would be even better if I didn’t have to drive through Indiana to get there and back… I need to get some Sirius Radio… Locating nothing but country music on my way west…
As Alabama sang, “Play me some mountain music”… I thought sure… First tell me where the fuck, there are any mountains in INDIANA!!! Come to think of it where the fuck, are there mountains in Ala-fucking-bama… But I digress… I think the highway on and off ramps qualify as ski slopes in Indiana…
Best of all they charge you to drive through that state… What are they charging for, the scenery??? Although I will say the farms in eastern Indiana certainly looked like a safer place to be than Gary…
The license plates in Indiana say “In God We Trust”… You get off the highway in Gary… You better be prepared to trust a Colt ‘45 and I ain’t talkin’ about malt liquor…
The farms smelled a little bit better than Gary, too…
Saw a billboard in Illinois… “Report Corruption”… TO WHO??? IT’S ILLINOIS!!!!
I think they just want to know who the complainers are so they can show up to burn their fuckin’ house down… “Report Corruption”… Yeah, right…
Had a good show last night… Heading to LaCrosse, Wisconsin this morning with a stop to do a radio interview for the Friday and Saturday shows in Dubuque, Iowa…
Ok, that’s all for now folks… The Road Rash has been itched…
I really like performing in the Midwest… It would be even better if I didn’t have to drive through Indiana to get there and back… I need to get some Sirius Radio… Locating nothing but country music on my way west…
As Alabama sang, “Play me some mountain music”… I thought sure… First tell me where the fuck, there are any mountains in INDIANA!!! Come to think of it where the fuck, are there mountains in Ala-fucking-bama… But I digress… I think the highway on and off ramps qualify as ski slopes in Indiana…
Best of all they charge you to drive through that state… What are they charging for, the scenery??? Although I will say the farms in eastern Indiana certainly looked like a safer place to be than Gary…
The license plates in Indiana say “In God We Trust”… You get off the highway in Gary… You better be prepared to trust a Colt ‘45 and I ain’t talkin’ about malt liquor…
The farms smelled a little bit better than Gary, too…
Saw a billboard in Illinois… “Report Corruption”… TO WHO??? IT’S ILLINOIS!!!!
I think they just want to know who the complainers are so they can show up to burn their fuckin’ house down… “Report Corruption”… Yeah, right…
Had a good show last night… Heading to LaCrosse, Wisconsin this morning with a stop to do a radio interview for the Friday and Saturday shows in Dubuque, Iowa…
Ok, that’s all for now folks… The Road Rash has been itched…
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Summer Memories...
I thought I’d just take a moment this afternoon to write a thank you note to the neighbor kids… For the memories they evoked from the deep recesses of my mind today…
Sitting in my Italian Patio on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, watching a baseball game… Windows open, warm breeze blowing… Dogs barking each time they sped, happily past on their bicycles down the bumpy gravel road…
Everyone enjoying a perfect summer day… Memories evoked not by watching them play, but only by sounds of their play as I sat watching the baseball game… Memories of childhood games on warm, endless, summer days…
If I had listened more closely I probably could have predicted the outcome or at least given good odds to anyone wishing to place a bet…
As speeds slowly increased each trip down the gravel hill, the limits of safety were punctuated with loud a “Wooo Hooo!!!”
…Until they are finally followed by the unmistakable sounds of a CRASH as bicycle and kid skid across the gravel… And a playmate’s laughter filled question of concern… “Are you, OK???”
Looking up from the ballgame… Filled with laughter myself, at what I had just heard… I lift my glass and say thanks for the memories, kid…
Sitting in my Italian Patio on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, watching a baseball game… Windows open, warm breeze blowing… Dogs barking each time they sped, happily past on their bicycles down the bumpy gravel road…
Everyone enjoying a perfect summer day… Memories evoked not by watching them play, but only by sounds of their play as I sat watching the baseball game… Memories of childhood games on warm, endless, summer days…
If I had listened more closely I probably could have predicted the outcome or at least given good odds to anyone wishing to place a bet…
As speeds slowly increased each trip down the gravel hill, the limits of safety were punctuated with loud a “Wooo Hooo!!!”
…Until they are finally followed by the unmistakable sounds of a CRASH as bicycle and kid skid across the gravel… And a playmate’s laughter filled question of concern… “Are you, OK???”
Looking up from the ballgame… Filled with laughter myself, at what I had just heard… I lift my glass and say thanks for the memories, kid…
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Another Episode of So You Want to be a Road Comic???
In moments designed by fate to remind me I’m old enough to be their father… I’ve found myself recently sharing relationship advice to a younger comic and answering emails from another asking for comedy advice…
Talking comedy with Headliner Kris Shaw, pre-show recently he reminded me that while we always start the show by acknowledging we’re happy to be there… We’re there to bring the audience into our world… Then to give them a glimpse of the world inside our minds…
Hopefully mine will always be a world where people spit beer and snort sandwiches out their nose…
Yes, I’ll always be happy to be there…
But you want to be a road comic???
Constantly asked by friends and former co-workers… “Hey Steve, how’s the comedy career coming along, played Vegas yet???”
I smile and say “No, not yet, but I’ve played places like… We ain’t got all our teeth, West Virginia… and Interbred, Pennsylvania… ”
Where, when a drunken Pittsburgh Steelers fan in a moment of misplaced team pride told me he bled “Black and Gold”… I told him… “So do Ben Rothlisberger’s girlfriends…”
Constantly traveling the country in fear that… Instead of hearing my GPS say… “You have arrived at your destination”… I’d hear banjo music as it asked… “Hey boy, you ever see Deliverance???”
While some people may think the road comic life is all bright lights and glamour… I’m playing places I only need to say the name of to get a laugh… Playing places where the only difference between the place and yogurt is there’s live culture in yogurt…
I've done shows in some of the few places where verizon can't hear me now...
While the government says that in the event of another terrorist attack we need to cover our windows with duck tape and plastic… I’m playing places where I’m pretty sure people don’t need to be told that… They’ve been wrapping the whole fuckin’ trailer with duck tape and plastic for years and changing the tires twice a year, too… Putting snow tires on the roof in the winter and taking them off every summer…
Sitting in a hotel room watching “UFO Hunters” on late night television… I come to one conclusion… The only people who have seen UFOs all have one thing in common… None of them have all their teeth… Are the aliens afraid we’re going to eat them???
I think some of my audiences have been breeding with aliens, but hey anything that diversifies the gene pool can’t be… All bad…
Stopping to consider the irony of it all… Steve “The Nuclear Guy” performing where the only thing anyone understands about the theory of relativity is everybody is a fuckin’ relative…
They can blame the six fingers on each of their kid’s hands or the one leg shorter than the other on radiation if they like… But maybe… Just maybe it’s because the family tree looks like a fuckin’ cell tower…
I say, if they don’t want people to know they fuck their sisters… Then they shouldn’t fuck their sisters!!!
Still doing some seasonal nuclear contract work, as if I don’t get enough of the road as it is… Recently finishing a two and a half week job at a nuclear power plant in Augusta, GA… I was issued white protective coveralls and a hood upon my arrival… Another moment of irony missed on the locals???
Of course Augusta, GA is the home of the Masters golf tournament and where no black had set foot on the golf course, except to mow the greens, until Tiger Woods broke that color barrier…
This years Masters tournament will be Tigers’ return to competitive golf following some pretty public indiscretions… Waffle House, the road comics’ home away from home, was mentioned prominently as one of Tigers hunting grounds…
Well, I visited three different Waffle Houses while in Augusta and I didn’t happen to see any waitresses that looked anything like the women Tiger was taking to his den… I think that’s a serious case of false advertising… But the food is good and they’re open 24 hours…
I’m a comic ‘cuz I didn’t want to wait until I was old to be able to say whatever came to my mind… And there’s no place I’d rather be than right there, right now on stage in a place like Moonshine, Mississippi…
Friends said, ‘Steve, the roads the place you ought to be…” So I loaded up the car and started driving across the country”
Talking comedy with Headliner Kris Shaw, pre-show recently he reminded me that while we always start the show by acknowledging we’re happy to be there… We’re there to bring the audience into our world… Then to give them a glimpse of the world inside our minds…
Hopefully mine will always be a world where people spit beer and snort sandwiches out their nose…
Yes, I’ll always be happy to be there…
But you want to be a road comic???
Constantly asked by friends and former co-workers… “Hey Steve, how’s the comedy career coming along, played Vegas yet???”
I smile and say “No, not yet, but I’ve played places like… We ain’t got all our teeth, West Virginia… and Interbred, Pennsylvania… ”
Where, when a drunken Pittsburgh Steelers fan in a moment of misplaced team pride told me he bled “Black and Gold”… I told him… “So do Ben Rothlisberger’s girlfriends…”
Constantly traveling the country in fear that… Instead of hearing my GPS say… “You have arrived at your destination”… I’d hear banjo music as it asked… “Hey boy, you ever see Deliverance???”
While some people may think the road comic life is all bright lights and glamour… I’m playing places I only need to say the name of to get a laugh… Playing places where the only difference between the place and yogurt is there’s live culture in yogurt…
I've done shows in some of the few places where verizon can't hear me now...
While the government says that in the event of another terrorist attack we need to cover our windows with duck tape and plastic… I’m playing places where I’m pretty sure people don’t need to be told that… They’ve been wrapping the whole fuckin’ trailer with duck tape and plastic for years and changing the tires twice a year, too… Putting snow tires on the roof in the winter and taking them off every summer…
Sitting in a hotel room watching “UFO Hunters” on late night television… I come to one conclusion… The only people who have seen UFOs all have one thing in common… None of them have all their teeth… Are the aliens afraid we’re going to eat them???
I think some of my audiences have been breeding with aliens, but hey anything that diversifies the gene pool can’t be… All bad…
Stopping to consider the irony of it all… Steve “The Nuclear Guy” performing where the only thing anyone understands about the theory of relativity is everybody is a fuckin’ relative…
They can blame the six fingers on each of their kid’s hands or the one leg shorter than the other on radiation if they like… But maybe… Just maybe it’s because the family tree looks like a fuckin’ cell tower…
I say, if they don’t want people to know they fuck their sisters… Then they shouldn’t fuck their sisters!!!
Still doing some seasonal nuclear contract work, as if I don’t get enough of the road as it is… Recently finishing a two and a half week job at a nuclear power plant in Augusta, GA… I was issued white protective coveralls and a hood upon my arrival… Another moment of irony missed on the locals???
Of course Augusta, GA is the home of the Masters golf tournament and where no black had set foot on the golf course, except to mow the greens, until Tiger Woods broke that color barrier…
This years Masters tournament will be Tigers’ return to competitive golf following some pretty public indiscretions… Waffle House, the road comics’ home away from home, was mentioned prominently as one of Tigers hunting grounds…
Well, I visited three different Waffle Houses while in Augusta and I didn’t happen to see any waitresses that looked anything like the women Tiger was taking to his den… I think that’s a serious case of false advertising… But the food is good and they’re open 24 hours…
I’m a comic ‘cuz I didn’t want to wait until I was old to be able to say whatever came to my mind… And there’s no place I’d rather be than right there, right now on stage in a place like Moonshine, Mississippi…
Friends said, ‘Steve, the roads the place you ought to be…” So I loaded up the car and started driving across the country”
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Space Cowboy...
Recently left wide awake, by a generous midday nap and post show adrenaline high, to channel surf the hotel TV menu late one night... Happening upon “The UFO Hunters” it seemed to me as the most entertaining choice and most likely to spur my imagination into flights of fancy...
Finally drifting off, trance like, but not yet asleep... “Do not adjust your set, we have taken control of your TV”, I heard the voice say from across the room.
Thoughts of my home in Wayne County began to fill my mind as a question floated like a dream above me... Why does it seem aliens only visit people missing teeth??? Are aliens afraid the rest of us will try to eat them???
I began to dream I heard my dogs barking at the bright lights in the distance, though being a few states away it may have only been my own snoring.
Maybe the aliens don’t realize rednecks have a recipe for every critter in their zoos... Whether they have teeth to chew ‘em or not...
But that could have just been the double order of teriyaki chicken wings washed down with numerous beers following the show, now coming back up for some late night comedy talk...
Maybe it was just the nightmare of the ass-tronaut ex-wife whose ass took up a lot of space...
I wondered... Are they coming to diversify some trailer park gene pools???
Dreaming my way back to Wayne County, where the only thing anyone understands about the theory of relativity is that everyone is a fuckin’ relative... Maybe I was just homesick...
Waking up and climbing into my VW Jetta wagon spaceship... Thinking I was George Jetson, I headed home for a reunion with “Jane” and our three “Astros”...
Only to arrive smelling like “Tarzan”, after 8 hours in the car... Swinging in on my vine to plant a big kiss onto the lips of my “Jane” as our three “Cheetas” danced like monkeys around us...
Happy not to be told to sleep in the barn... This Intrepid Space Cowboy was glad be home...
Finally drifting off, trance like, but not yet asleep... “Do not adjust your set, we have taken control of your TV”, I heard the voice say from across the room.
Thoughts of my home in Wayne County began to fill my mind as a question floated like a dream above me... Why does it seem aliens only visit people missing teeth??? Are aliens afraid the rest of us will try to eat them???
I began to dream I heard my dogs barking at the bright lights in the distance, though being a few states away it may have only been my own snoring.
Maybe the aliens don’t realize rednecks have a recipe for every critter in their zoos... Whether they have teeth to chew ‘em or not...
But that could have just been the double order of teriyaki chicken wings washed down with numerous beers following the show, now coming back up for some late night comedy talk...
Maybe it was just the nightmare of the ass-tronaut ex-wife whose ass took up a lot of space...
I wondered... Are they coming to diversify some trailer park gene pools???
Dreaming my way back to Wayne County, where the only thing anyone understands about the theory of relativity is that everyone is a fuckin’ relative... Maybe I was just homesick...
Waking up and climbing into my VW Jetta wagon spaceship... Thinking I was George Jetson, I headed home for a reunion with “Jane” and our three “Astros”...
Only to arrive smelling like “Tarzan”, after 8 hours in the car... Swinging in on my vine to plant a big kiss onto the lips of my “Jane” as our three “Cheetas” danced like monkeys around us...
Happy not to be told to sleep in the barn... This Intrepid Space Cowboy was glad be home...
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