It's 5:47 a.m. and I'm at the Reagan National Airport in Washington D.C. headed home after an awesome east coast trip. I spent the whole week in New York, and did 3 shows in 4 days. After hearing about the NY comedy scene for so long, and watching and reading about it for all these years, I gotta say it COMPLETELY lived up to the hype. It was my most amazing week as a stand-up comic, without a doubt. Stand-up is so pure out here, there's no bullshit—if you're funny and they'll let you know, and if you aren't funny they'll let you know. There are so many clubs, all of them get at least decent sized crowds for almost every show, and the crowd is full of people who are just fans of good comedy. Maybe this isn't coming out the way I'm thinking it, but sometimes in LA/Hollywood its more about looking/acting like a star and trying to get noticed and star in a movie tomorrow, but out here its simply about being funny.
Tuesday night I was at Caroline's on Broadway, in their new talent showcase. Caroline's is probably the most famous club in New York, right in the heart of Times Square, and I was just so excited to get on that stage and do my thing. I had a lot of friends and family in the area come to the show to see me, which was awesome. I was up 8th out of 10, a pretty good spot, and sat back and watched the others to get a feel for what the crowd was into. Most of the comics were at least pretty good, like any other show there were a million Palin/McCain/Obama jokes, some clever and some not so clever. I'm so tired of political humor, it's been beaten to death so hard lately that there just aren't any more ways to take the topic and use it without sounding like a hack. Anyway, I was lucky because they guy who went right before me was a pro, really went after the crowd and swore a lot and whatnot, but did it well, so the crowd was nice and loose at that point, and nothing I was gonna do was going to shock them after that. I had 7 min, and my set went great. At the risk of sounding like a douche, I had this moment when I first got on stage. I grabbed the mic and said "What's up, New York, how are you guys doin'?" and it was just the fucking coolest thing ever. It's been a year and a half, and I've done about 200 shows—written every single day, studied my favorites, hustled to get stage time, just doing everything in my power to turn this into a career. All of the sudden it hit me: I was on stage at Caroline's on Broadway in Times fucking Square in Ney York City, the stand-up Mecca. Of course, all of this happened in my head in about half a second, so I don't think the crowd noticed what a reminiscing toolbox I was. I had a great set! The crowd was with me from start to finish for the most part, and I ended on a high note and got out of there. I bought the ridiculously overpriced DVD of my set, because what the hell? It was a special occasion. Then I went out with my cousins and friends from home that now live out there, and got really drunk and had a blast.
Wednesday Night I did a set at Broadway Comedy Club. It's a smaller room, but it was a lot of fun. The place was packed, and the crowd was eager. My set went really well, I was having as much fun as they were, and just genuinely excited to be on stage in NY again. After that, I took a cab straight to the Comedy Cellar because I saw that Dave Attell was on the lineup for that night. Attell is the reason I got into comedy, and he is still my hero. I've seen him live a hundred times (slightly exaggerated) but I knew that the Comedy Cellar was his workout spot for all these years, and I wanted to see him working out new stuff. The entire lineup was great—the Cellar is probably the most famous workout spot for the biggest names in comedy and they did not disappoint. Jay Oakerson and Nick Griffin were great, and I can't remember the names of the other two or three but they were all total pros. But Attell had me rolling. He shows up in his huge winter jacket, black beanie, sipping hot tea while on stage. He could not have been more casual. "Halloween, or as the pedophiles call it… The Super Bowl." I was dying. What a fucking genius. Anyway, it was a great night, both as a performer and as a fan.
Took Thursday off from shows, and met up with a bunch of guys from my fraternity in college that live out here now. It was great. We got hammered all night, took us right back to college. It's rough when you get so drunk when its so damn cold outside, cuz you get cocky with your ability to tolerate the cold. It was an extremely chilly walk home—thank god I have numbed all my nerves with about a dozen pints of Brooklyn Lager.
Friday I did a show at Stand Up NY on the upper Westside. On the bill with me was an SNL writer, a guy who tours with Dave Attell across the country, and Godfrey. Quite the company for a small crowd. My set went great and I got a lot of great feedback from these comics that I have a ton of respect for. The general manager of the club told me I did great and to call him on Monday. Hope that means more NY gigs in the future!
Overall, I loved the city and I especially loved the stand up scene. It's amazing out there, and I definitely plan on living there at least for a year or two at some point in my life.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
East Coast Trip: New York
Monday, November 17, 2008
East Coast Tour: Washington DC
I've been in Washington DC since Thursday night. It's a really cool city, I'm enjoying it a lot. People overhyped how cold it was going to be—the gloves, scarves and sweaters my mom forced me to pack are still in my embarrassingly over-packed suitcase. I've learned very quickly just how much of a So Cal guy I am, that's for sure. Every sentence that comes out of my mouth, people here laugh because I say things like "dude" or "gnarly" about every 4th word. I think I've got a few of them saying "gnarly" now, so I'm trying to represent for us back home.
Friday night I got unbelievably wasted. Happy hour, drinks with dinner, and then out to this place called Rocket Bar in the DC Chinatown. The place was awesome, a huge bar with arcade games and whatnot—perfect balance of being an adult but still thinking like a kid, so I appreciated it. The people here are so different, but I love it. There isn't that pretentious vibe you get out in LA. No one is trying to be cool, or to impress anyone—they just are who they are and embrace it. Dorky guys have no problem acting like dorks, and ironically I think that makes them pretty fucking cool. Its nice to see how different people are, and it definitely makes you think about how fake things can get in the LA/Hollywood scene. Anyway, we're partying at this bar til like 3am, and somehow I end up in an apartment where I only knew like one person, and they start passing around a bong. I am drunk beyond belief, in no condition to be adding to my level of intoxication, but what the hell, right? I take one hit, and I immediately regret it. It was the strongest shit I've ever tried, I literally felt it taking over my body limb by limb. I tried to keep my cool, but ended up passing out on someone's bed for like 15 min (but felt like 15 hours), and then had to get back to my friend's place, who was just as wasted as I was. I popped out of bed, had no idea where I was, and just ran out the door. I knew what address I had to get to, but no clue which direction it was. Did I mention it was pouring rain? I spent about 30 minutes running drunk in the rain by myself in Washington DC trying to find my way home. It's a creepy feeling when you're that wasted and no one is around… I felt like Will Smith in I Am Legend, if he was a borderline alcoholic. It was a trip, but I finally made it back.
I had to make a quick recovery because last night I had my first East Coast show at the Hyatt in Bethesda, MD. I had no clue who the other comics were, what to expect, or if this was gonna be a show with like 10 old people in the crowd. It ended up being AWESOME, I had a killer set, and found out that they like smoking weed and ordering Domino's Pizza in Maryland too! It was a really great experience to finally do some shows outside of Southern California. People dress so conservatively out here. I was told I wouldn't be allowed on stage if I didn't have a button up shirt and slacks. It's a weird feeling doing jokes about masturbation and having sex with a girl who was too lazy to move in bed while dressed up so nicely, but oh well that's what they wanted! Then we got drunk til like 6am after the show… sense a theme in this trip yet?
Took it easy today, getting some writing done. I went for a run, and ran past the Washington and Jefferson monuments—pretty cool stuff. They have all these quotes carved in to the monuments that are really inspiring. These dudes were brilliant. Then I went home and wrote a new boner joke.
Leaving for New York as we speak! Hope to see some of you at Caroline's tomorrow!
--Robbie
Friday night I got unbelievably wasted. Happy hour, drinks with dinner, and then out to this place called Rocket Bar in the DC Chinatown. The place was awesome, a huge bar with arcade games and whatnot—perfect balance of being an adult but still thinking like a kid, so I appreciated it. The people here are so different, but I love it. There isn't that pretentious vibe you get out in LA. No one is trying to be cool, or to impress anyone—they just are who they are and embrace it. Dorky guys have no problem acting like dorks, and ironically I think that makes them pretty fucking cool. Its nice to see how different people are, and it definitely makes you think about how fake things can get in the LA/Hollywood scene. Anyway, we're partying at this bar til like 3am, and somehow I end up in an apartment where I only knew like one person, and they start passing around a bong. I am drunk beyond belief, in no condition to be adding to my level of intoxication, but what the hell, right? I take one hit, and I immediately regret it. It was the strongest shit I've ever tried, I literally felt it taking over my body limb by limb. I tried to keep my cool, but ended up passing out on someone's bed for like 15 min (but felt like 15 hours), and then had to get back to my friend's place, who was just as wasted as I was. I popped out of bed, had no idea where I was, and just ran out the door. I knew what address I had to get to, but no clue which direction it was. Did I mention it was pouring rain? I spent about 30 minutes running drunk in the rain by myself in Washington DC trying to find my way home. It's a creepy feeling when you're that wasted and no one is around… I felt like Will Smith in I Am Legend, if he was a borderline alcoholic. It was a trip, but I finally made it back.
I had to make a quick recovery because last night I had my first East Coast show at the Hyatt in Bethesda, MD. I had no clue who the other comics were, what to expect, or if this was gonna be a show with like 10 old people in the crowd. It ended up being AWESOME, I had a killer set, and found out that they like smoking weed and ordering Domino's Pizza in Maryland too! It was a really great experience to finally do some shows outside of Southern California. People dress so conservatively out here. I was told I wouldn't be allowed on stage if I didn't have a button up shirt and slacks. It's a weird feeling doing jokes about masturbation and having sex with a girl who was too lazy to move in bed while dressed up so nicely, but oh well that's what they wanted! Then we got drunk til like 6am after the show… sense a theme in this trip yet?
Took it easy today, getting some writing done. I went for a run, and ran past the Washington and Jefferson monuments—pretty cool stuff. They have all these quotes carved in to the monuments that are really inspiring. These dudes were brilliant. Then I went home and wrote a new boner joke.
Leaving for New York as we speak! Hope to see some of you at Caroline's tomorrow!
--Robbie
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I Fell in the Shower This Morning...
Let me just start off by saying things have been going really well for me. My job is chill, I have plenty of time to write jokes and waste time on Myspace while still getting paid… comedy is going really well for me, I'm starting to book some bigger gigs… no complaints here, right? All of that flew right out the window this morning, as I was quickly put right back in my place. This is the story of Robbie Pickard falling in the shower… at the age of 23.
I had a gig in Camarillo last night, and had a really great set - one of those nights where a 20-minute set feels like five minutes because the crowd is just eating up everything you are saying. I stuck around afterwards to talk to all three of my adoring fans, and got home at around 1 a.m. As usual, I couldn't fall asleep until about 2:30, leaving me way too tired for work in the morning.
I'm a deep sleeper, so I set my alarm at the absolute latest time where I think I can still manage to get to work on time—and with this method, I'm in the shower about 45 seconds after my alarm goes off. There's a little ledge in the back of my shower, so my lazy ass is sitting on it, too tired to stand fully upright on my own at this point. My eyes are still basically closed, and I'm sitting on the edge of my shower shampooing my hair—a really pathetic scene now that I think about it. Out of nowhere, my right foot slips out from under me (should have spent the $10 for those shower mats) and I fell… hard. It was like one of those Peter Griffin falls on Family Guy, where he literally goes from upright to flat on his ass in 1/100 of a second.
It took me a while to process this—like I said I was still half asleep. Did that really just happen? I have never been more embarrassed while completely alone. There is no place sadder than the floor of your shower, when you had no intentions of being there. I was naked on a level that you can't imagine, literally and figuratively. I just sat there, the water raining down on my demoralized face; rinsing the shampoo I had just so liberally applied just a few seconds before all down my hair and into my eyes. If was crying, it wasn't from the shampoo. Not even Johnson & Johnson could have stopped these tears—these were tears of shame. Shame because I had fallen in my shower, and I'm not 80-years-old. I'm surprised I didn't break my hip.
I probably sat there for a good 10-15 minutes. A lot was running through my mind—a lot more than just trying to figure out how I fell. This was a wake up call, and I started thinking about the bigger picture. What am I doing with my life? Am I really trying to make a living getting drunk and telling boner jokes to strangers? I should have tried harder in high school… If she told me she was 18, is it still my fault for believing her?
I learned something very important this morning. Nothing makes you reflect on your life and where you stand in accordance to your dreams more than sitting on your shower floor naked with a bruised ass, still half erect from a bad case of morning wood, as shampoo seeps its way into your tear ducts. I'm taking a bath tomorrow morning...
-Robbie
I had a gig in Camarillo last night, and had a really great set - one of those nights where a 20-minute set feels like five minutes because the crowd is just eating up everything you are saying. I stuck around afterwards to talk to all three of my adoring fans, and got home at around 1 a.m. As usual, I couldn't fall asleep until about 2:30, leaving me way too tired for work in the morning.
I'm a deep sleeper, so I set my alarm at the absolute latest time where I think I can still manage to get to work on time—and with this method, I'm in the shower about 45 seconds after my alarm goes off. There's a little ledge in the back of my shower, so my lazy ass is sitting on it, too tired to stand fully upright on my own at this point. My eyes are still basically closed, and I'm sitting on the edge of my shower shampooing my hair—a really pathetic scene now that I think about it. Out of nowhere, my right foot slips out from under me (should have spent the $10 for those shower mats) and I fell… hard. It was like one of those Peter Griffin falls on Family Guy, where he literally goes from upright to flat on his ass in 1/100 of a second.
It took me a while to process this—like I said I was still half asleep. Did that really just happen? I have never been more embarrassed while completely alone. There is no place sadder than the floor of your shower, when you had no intentions of being there. I was naked on a level that you can't imagine, literally and figuratively. I just sat there, the water raining down on my demoralized face; rinsing the shampoo I had just so liberally applied just a few seconds before all down my hair and into my eyes. If was crying, it wasn't from the shampoo. Not even Johnson & Johnson could have stopped these tears—these were tears of shame. Shame because I had fallen in my shower, and I'm not 80-years-old. I'm surprised I didn't break my hip.
I probably sat there for a good 10-15 minutes. A lot was running through my mind—a lot more than just trying to figure out how I fell. This was a wake up call, and I started thinking about the bigger picture. What am I doing with my life? Am I really trying to make a living getting drunk and telling boner jokes to strangers? I should have tried harder in high school… If she told me she was 18, is it still my fault for believing her?
I learned something very important this morning. Nothing makes you reflect on your life and where you stand in accordance to your dreams more than sitting on your shower floor naked with a bruised ass, still half erect from a bad case of morning wood, as shampoo seeps its way into your tear ducts. I'm taking a bath tomorrow morning...
-Robbie
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