Chicago part 1

Welcome to the first of my blogs on my adventures with Second City on Norwegian Cruise Line the Spirit. I would have done this sooner but between rehearsals, shows, exploring Canada and not being very adept at using my new Mac; I have been unable to find the time. So now we’re nearly two weeks into this and I have a lot of ground to cover.

*This blog is a live document which means at some points it will turn into a choose your own adventure, where YOU decide how things go on my trip. Warning I use truth, exaggeration, and flat out lies whenever journaling the events of my life. So take everything written with a grain of salt, or try to figure out what is true, false, or exaggeration. It’s a fun game. More fun than wondering why I feel the need to make my life more interesting than it really is. My psychiatrist has had plenty to say on the subject but it was hard to listen to him since I was fighting giant eagles with my superhero team, Team Jetpack! Go, Team Jetpack, Go!!!

IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES IT WAS THE SMURF OF TIMES

I left on the second of October, for Chicago. The place where I grew up and haven’t seen in about eight years. I left with James Mastriani a valued player at Second City Conservatory in Los Angeles. I made a tearful goodbye to my wife Jamie at an LAX and when I say tearful I mean I really, really made a scene. What started out as a simple hug and kiss goodbye devolved into my wife furiously whispering into my ear “Get up off the street and act like a fucking man!” After she slapped me across the face a few times she drove off. I then checked my bags and went through security. That immediately turned into a Marx brother’s routine. In the past few years I haven’t flown much, so the whole stripping off all your clothes, wrapping yourself into a towel, putting each individual belonging into a tray, being sniffed by dogs, and fondled by a man in an overcoat was new to me. Apparently after talking to James a lot of those steps were not necessary and security doesn’t usually wear overcoats.

The night before I had checked, rechecked, and rerechecked everything I was taking with me on the trip. For once I would forget nothing. Too bad I left my debit card at the restaurant I took Jamie the night before. Ahhhh to be Peter and dumb.

The flight itself was somewhat cramped with Monday morning travelers. These were mostly guys in business suits with important plans to make money for corporations, corporations who take advantage of the little guy, the faceless American worker. The type of people who only look out for themselves and would take offense to the idea of a country wherever everyone pulled their resources together, and created a centralized government that took care of all of the needs of the people. A state where it was all for one and one for all. I espoused these ideas rather loudly on the plane, due to the fact I was listening to Aerosmiths Eat The Rich on my Ipod shuffle, and I thought I was just thinking but turns out I was talking. Talking loudly. Apparently even twenty years after the cold war people have odd feelings about Communism, they tend not to like it. I blame the movies Red Dawn and Rocky IV and present day China for giving an unrealistic portrayal of what Communism could be. At its best it should be Socialism, at its worst it should be like the Smurfs. Meaning we wear funny hats and aren’t allowed to wear shirts.

So we finally arrived in Chicago and after answering some questions on Communism to homeland security James and me were on our way. After being in LA for so long it was hard to believe that heavy traffic in other towns means cars actually move. In fact at the height of rush hour we still averaged about 35-40 mph, which felt like we were flying.. Our cab driver decided that we were important enough that we should bypass traffic completely and drive on the shoulder of the road, until the last possible second before crashing into a concrete median.

The drive besides the near death experiences was mostly uneventful. Chicago was as beautiful as I remembered. Some places had changed drastically other landmarks were still blissfully the same. It was quite hot and muggy through the whole time in Chicago, which was great. Since whenever meeting new people or seeing old friends I prefer to be a sweaty mess.

So imagine now you’re driving through the streets of Chicago in a cab that smells a lot like Jerk chicken while I tell you about my friend James.


MY FRIEND JAMES

My friend James is from Pittsburg, he had a great audition at which point I deemed him worthy to talk to and share my comedy secrets. He is a writing partner with Jennifer Smedley and they had a remarkable two person show which if they do it again is seriously worth checking out.

My friend James is also only twenty-three. Oh what a difference a decade makes. I look at him and see myself at twenty three. Except he is thinner, better looking, and he smells like a manly description from a Harlequin romance novel. Due to his age, my wife informed me that I must look after this young pup. I tried to explain to her that if I protect him from everything he will grow strong and eventually smite me down. My wife reminded me again that I am not a mythical Titan but just a man that forgets to close the toilet lid. So now I keep an eye on James, lest his youth betrays us in some way.

My friend James doesn’t know how to pack. I mean he really doesn’t know how to pack. I chalk it up to him being young, but his suitcase weighed 85 pounds. He brought the complete works of Shakespeare, gold dubloons, and the magnetic core of the earth with him.. He conceded that he might have brought too much when his bag ripped when we got out of the cab, and when the Earth began to drift toward the sun. I convinced him he should return the magnetic core of the earth to where he found it.

My friend James has a lot of genetic material that demands to be spread. He’s twenty three and Italian and from what my racist Grandma tells me that is natural for the lowly half beasts birthed from Satan’s boot. He is very concerned if he can make “friends with people on the boat. Wether the “friends” he makes are crew or passengers. This area of our status on the boat is very hazy, and I too hope it is answered soon. For while James great weakness may be women, mine will always be the telling of a good randy x rated tales from a friend too young to realize he shouldn’t talk about such things, so as not to offend the lady.

WRIGLEYVILLE

So we quickly settled into an apartment that was far too nice for us. The Second City corporate apartment is a three bedroom apartment less than a hundred yards from Wrigley field. James and I quickly picked our rooms. I opted for the smaller one in the back of the apartment. I wanted to try to be gracious to our cast member Shawn who was going to be coming in later that night. The bedroom had two small single beds. The thing I didn’t notice about the room though was that it lacked an air conditioner or a ceiling fan. After we were settled we went out for a quick smoke and tried to decide what to do with ourselves for that evening. As it turns out another cast of Second City bound for the sea was also in town, a couple of them we knew from the auditions in LA they informed us they were going to see the show that night, and we agreed to meet them. Then we couldn’t get back into the apartment.

Our keys for some reason would not open the door to the apartment building. So in a blind panic we called the owner of the apartment building a very nice lady named Joan. Who told us that there was nothing wrong with the keys and she really wasn’t interested in coming over. I began to argue with her until my key worked and then I sheepishly apologized and spent the next few minutes cursing myself for being the idiot that I am.

Due to the cubs being in the playoffs there was a wonderful energy around the ballpark. You could see the hope in everyone’s eyes that this year could be the year. Even I was excited at the prospect of the cubs winning at least the home game they would have on Saturday just so I could show James the wonderful insanity that a cubs victory could bring to this town. Since all he knew of the town at that point was that it was extremely humid. Which for October was bizarre but not as bizarre as how profusely I sweat in humid weather. I felt sorry for James having to walk around town with me, since after about ten minutes it looked like I had jumped into a pool.

So we took the L Train down to the famed Second City.

THE BIGGEST MAN IN THE WORLD

We barely made the show since our directions were slightly off and we walked for twenty minutes in the wrong direction. While everything in my home town looked familiar I had completely lost my sense of direction. We soon ushered ourselves into the theatre. It was packed and we had to be divided just so that we could sit. I was lead to a seat by the piano. As I sat down, the man next to me turned and scowled. Now when the Second City is full because of the table seating they use in the theatre it sometimes requires one to make themselves small. I was used to this and was getting ready to make my frame as compact as possible when the man next to me said “Great, the biggest man in the world is sitting next to me.” Which seemed an odd thing to say since he was the same size as I am. I immediately wanted to beat the crap out of the guy, but held my fists in check. The thought of Beth (the woman who hired me) calling me the next day and saying “So I heard there was an incident last night at the theatre, well it was nice meeting you, your flight back to LA leaves at 5.” Made me less than interested in fighting.

The lights went down in the theatre and the show began. The current show is called Barrack and a hard place. The sketches were all very good, as were the performers yet I found myself having a hard time focusing. Mostly because the man who had proclaimed me largest in the world kept stretching and trying to push me further away from him. Yet since I am the size of a small planet he had little luck. After the first intermission James, and some of the other cast that was going to sea discussed the incident. They all agreed I had done the right thing, and that the guy was an asshole. Although when I looked deep into their eyes I could see that they had branded me a pussy for not going through with the fight.

Some of the audience had cleared out after the first intermission so I was given a different seat. Where the moons that orbit my large girth could roam freely. The second part of the show was excellent. I did notice that off to one side there was a bench where a group of people were sitting watching the show but also looked like they were waiting expectantly. My eyes kept going back to that bench wondering what they could be waiting for.

After the second half of the show was over they began the improv portion. I looked to the bench and the people were gone. Before I could wonder what had happened t o them they appeared on the stage and did an improv set. I was flabbergasted did all you have to do was sit on the bench and then you got to perform the improv set of second city. All I knew was that I was coming back the next night and sitting on that fucking bench.