Now, I know I have weird hair but this was different. We all thought it was clearly a toupee but he was like twenty-eight and had longish brown hair, so we weren’t sure. But then on Wednesday he came to the show with short hair? He casually mentioned he got a haircut. So wig rumors dissipated . . . UNTIL YEARS LATER when I found out that was his trick! He has two toupees. One long, one short! He would switch every week on Wednesday and say he got a haircut. WHAT A GREAT MOVE! I had mad respect for that fucking scam. I was fully hoodwinked.
It was hard not to hit the casino and blow all my piddly earnings, I have to admit. You have so much free time on the road, and besides that, to get to the Improv stage I had to walk through the whole casino, which was so fucking tempting. Slots, roulette, blackjack, and even baccarat, which I still don’t understand, were five feet away at all times. Every day was a real lesson in restraint. The showroom was right next to Foxy Boxing, which was also tempting. Never nailed a foxy boxer. Still mad about that.
When the week was over, the Riv asked me if I wanted to be paid in chips. Are you kidding me?? Do I look like a moron?! I took the check and I hightailed it, thinking that this was the easiest five hundo I had made in a loooong time. I hung on to that fucking thing for dear life all the way home to L.A.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HBO YOUNG COMEDIANS SPECIAL
I t was 1989 and I was still kicking around the Improv, averaging two weeks on the road and two weeks in town trying to get auditions and doing spots. My third attempt to get on to the HBO Young Comedians Special was around the corner. This time I had a foot in the door because Brillstein-Grey was producing the show that year, and Brad Grey is one of my managers, along with Marc Gurvitz. I felt like this gave me a great shot at getting on. When the showcase came around, I knew they were looking for five comics. You forget that they are also looking in Chicago, New York, all over the country—not just Los Angeles. This special was still a huge deal in a world with four networks and barely any cable channels. Even with what I viewed as a leg up, I was sweating it. When the showcase came around, I decided not to do the set I had done the previous two years. I felt I couldn’t repeat it. It didn’t work twice anyway so this seemed like a no-brainer, but a tight set is a security blanket. (It usually is pretty foolproof.) When you’re a comedian, you create a set and you know it works and you sometimes find yourself going back to it. It just happens. You have your go-to six-minute set, your ten-minute set, thirty, etc. For the showcase, the producers usually wanted to see six minutes. I knew I had to shake it up. Even if I had a great thirty-minute set, the six minutes I audition with have to be even better than great, so it is hard to take a risk and gamble with material that isn’t tried and true. This all may sound stupid, but that’s all we comedians think about.
The night came around and when I did my set and I felt pretty good about it, even though I had stepped outside of my comfort zone. I did a newer bit about doctors recommending Nuprin for pain over Vicodin and threw in my Michael J. Fox impression. There are a lot of good comics in the showcase, though, and I knew I had to wait to hear my fate. This was not easy. I started calling my managers every day to get feedback (thirsty!) and at first I heard I had a spot in the special. I was over the moon. Days went by. I started to hear that though I did well, my managers were not sure if I made it or not. Now word gets around of some other guys who got slots. Now I started to shit my pants a bit. Was I getting passed over again? Dennis Miller was hosting that year and he was my favorite comic at the time. I even knew him a little bit, as he was also with Brillstein-Grey as a client. I felt like that was one more piece of the puzzle that should get me on. I should fall into the
It was hard not to hit the casino and blow all my piddly earnings, I have to admit. You have so much free time on the road, and besides that, to get to the Improv stage I had to walk through the whole casino, which was so fucking tempting. Slots, roulette, blackjack, and even baccarat, which I still don’t understand, were five feet away at all times. Every day was a real lesson in restraint. The showroom was right next to Foxy Boxing, which was also tempting. Never nailed a foxy boxer. Still mad about that.
When the week was over, the Riv asked me if I wanted to be paid in chips. Are you kidding me?? Do I look like a moron?! I took the check and I hightailed it, thinking that this was the easiest five hundo I had made in a loooong time. I hung on to that fucking thing for dear life all the way home to L.A.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HBO YOUNG COMEDIANS SPECIAL
I t was 1989 and I was still kicking around the Improv, averaging two weeks on the road and two weeks in town trying to get auditions and doing spots. My third attempt to get on to the HBO Young Comedians Special was around the corner. This time I had a foot in the door because Brillstein-Grey was producing the show that year, and Brad Grey is one of my managers, along with Marc Gurvitz. I felt like this gave me a great shot at getting on. When the showcase came around, I knew they were looking for five comics. You forget that they are also looking in Chicago, New York, all over the country—not just Los Angeles. This special was still a huge deal in a world with four networks and barely any cable channels. Even with what I viewed as a leg up, I was sweating it. When the showcase came around, I decided not to do the set I had done the previous two years. I felt I couldn’t repeat it. It didn’t work twice anyway so this seemed like a no-brainer, but a tight set is a security blanket. (It usually is pretty foolproof.) When you’re a comedian, you create a set and you know it works and you sometimes find yourself going back to it. It just happens. You have your go-to six-minute set, your ten-minute set, thirty, etc. For the showcase, the producers usually wanted to see six minutes. I knew I had to shake it up. Even if I had a great thirty-minute set, the six minutes I audition with have to be even better than great, so it is hard to take a risk and gamble with material that isn’t tried and true. This all may sound stupid, but that’s all we comedians think about.
The night came around and when I did my set and I felt pretty good about it, even though I had stepped outside of my comfort zone. I did a newer bit about doctors recommending Nuprin for pain over Vicodin and threw in my Michael J. Fox impression. There are a lot of good comics in the showcase, though, and I knew I had to wait to hear my fate. This was not easy. I started calling my managers every day to get feedback (thirsty!) and at first I heard I had a spot in the special. I was over the moon. Days went by. I started to hear that though I did well, my managers were not sure if I made it or not. Now word gets around of some other guys who got slots. Now I started to shit my pants a bit. Was I getting passed over again? Dennis Miller was hosting that year and he was my favorite comic at the time. I even knew him a little bit, as he was also with Brillstein-Grey as a client. I felt like that was one more piece of the puzzle that should get me on. I should fall into the
Similar Books
