I was out last night at the Laugh Factory. Good show. Dane Cook emerged as the special guest and did a solid set, wearing some white-leather jacket with two twisting red dragons on it and it made me think he was channeling Will Ferrell's talent via Frank the Tank and Big Earl.
For me, the standout moment was that all the comedians engaged the audience in a "where ya from" fashion. While not unique to LA comedy, this adds a unique flavor given that most people aren't from LA; I myself only moved here in June.
The point is that when each performer found some out-of-towners, these tourists went ape-shit, interrupting the show. GAAAAH! Brooklyn!~!!
Seated in the corner booth which, by the way, is very uncomfortable, I stared straight at the side of the action and sideways at a girl from Michigan seated two down from me sipping thirty-bucks worth of gin & tonic and screaming intermittently until she got the attention she wanted. At least it wasn't boxed wine.
That's what we drank, back in a tiny hamlet outside Keri Keri; our fruit-picker's camp had a real party atmosphere. For recreation we had a television set, banished to the corner, all 17 inches of it, in an otherwise crazy shack decked with a pool table and picnic tables and graffitti walls and couches and a firestove; it felt like the camp counselor's bunkhouse in a bad 80's teen comedy, where you might see Phoebe Cates take her top off and Spicoli hit his head with a shoe.
One night, my ex-Marine friend from England, while his wife sipped red wine and watched, smashed the windshield of a car with a boulder.
If only someon's dad was a television repair man.
That dark Friday, some punk-local teenager (the kind I've seen many times over in parts of North America where the cops are cousins with the entire town) roars in drunk rocking some poor-man's Cadillac of a 90's Grand AM and starts speeding between tight clusters of trees and people in tents, some of whom were even sleeping.
The backpacker rabble, some upset at almost dying, ended up chashing the car into a tree; the driver was thrown over the car before being chased out of the camp. It sparked some Lord of the Flies rage in the group; left alone with this kid's car, they ripped away like monkeys, these backpackers, these tourists.
They'd come to the ends of the earth to tear themselves down, and anyone else nearby.
Please don't tell me you like Dane Cook - he is the worst and should be abolished from comedy, if not Earth.
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