This is the first entry of my diary, and I'm having a difficult time. I left it till the last minute. Of course since I'm supposed to be writing about what's happening today, I couldn't start it last June. What is my problem? I thought this would be easy. I should just let it flow, but I'm afraid that what I want to say will come out looking like one of Larry King's newspaper columns. Wouldn't it be great if Larry King had the same fear? Also, I'm afraid of including run-on sentences or placing subjects in front of predicates or modifying adverbs or putting the cart before the horse or finding out that what's good for the goose actually has negative effects on the gander.
I just returned from Seattle, where I performed at the Comedy Underground. Normally I don't like to perform on the road anymore. While I love stand-up, I usually hate the crowds. I live in L.A., where there is a thriving "alternative" comedy scene, and the crowds are almost too good. On the road, the crowds consist of people who have no sense of humor, nor irony, nor sarcasm, nor common sense of decency. But the Seattle audiences were good. I only say that because they seemed to enjoy my act. The only problem was the late show Saturday night. There were a lot of drunk people. One guy from Montana kept yelling out, "Clinton sucks ... whewwwww!!!!" When I asked him why Clinton sucked, he replied, "He's cool."
The hotel in Seattle didn't have cable TV. How is this possible? I guess because it was just declared a historical monument, they wanted to preserve things as they were a hundred years ago, when they only had Channels 2 through 13. Limited to "regular" TV, I watched daytime talk shows. I got to see Rosie O'Donnell banter mindlessly with her sycophantic band leader and kiss celebrity ass for an hour. On Leeza, there was a taebo exhibition during which Leeza pretended to go through the aerobic motions. After that, a couple who are therapists (or maybe they were a therapeutically oriented couple) talked about their book, which helps you instantly solve your problems. People stood up from the audience and were healed.
I think you can tell I'm angry. I am also quick to judge. Have you seen the movie The Waterboy? Neither have I, but I can guarantee you it's bad. I try to reconcile my anger with my spiritual beliefs. Even though I am not a big fan of organized religion (except for the Mormons, who I have to admit crack me up), I do believe in my own concept of God, whom I see not as a man with a long white beard who lives in the clouds but instead as an old, retired Jewish man who lives in Miami and constantly complains about the heat and the inferiority of the baked goods. One more thing. I hate Linda Tripp.