Hi everyone,
On Saturday, Maris and I got home from this year’s JoCo Cruise (where I’d been doing shows and panels and also drinking), and since then I’ve been irritating the people in my life by announcing that I’ve “returned from the sea.” Since getting back on land, we’ve both been a little dizzy, which is fairly common (it happened to us last year too), and which I’ve decided to treat as an extension of being on the cruise rather than a potentially dangerous and destabilizing (albeit temporary) condition.
The trip was, once again, wonderful. I read a whole book (Slumberland by Paul Beatty, who writes relentless satire that is full of piercing observations and endless jokes, but you should start with The Sellout, which is a masterpiece) and the final two thirds of another (Raw Dog, Jamie Loftus’s brilliant road trip book/history of hot dogs, which should be taught in schools if it isn’t already). I saw a bunch of old friends and made a bunch of new ones, and the cruise was (as always) like a sweet nerd summer camp. It may be over, but it will always linger in my memories, and for the next couple of days it’s going to slosh around in my inner ears as well.
One extraordinary aspect of the JoCo Cruise is how many singular performances there are that will never occur again. By that I mean improv (by its nature, not replicable unless you’re cheating), but also collaborations between musicians and one-off theme or karaoke performances. I wrote about this a little after last year’s cruise, but in an era where so much art is made to exist online forever (even if people only really care about it for an hour and a half) there’s something really beautiful about seeing a performance that feels definitive in your mind and may live only there. I imagine that fleeting feeling is some of what jam band fans (JaBaFas) try to capture when they exchange bootleg tapes of Phish or the Grateful Dead playing 23-minute-long versions of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” or whatever. (Hi, dad!)
Johnny Cash’s version of “Hurt” is the definitive one for a lot of people. But also the old guy who showed up solo to karaoke night at the Courtside in Cambridge one night fourteen years ago performed my personally canonical version of “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode. It doesn’t have to be a cover either. Gavin Rossdale’s rain-soaked performance of his own band’s song “Glycerine” at MTV Spring Break 1996 is the only one that matters for anyone who witnessed it. Last week, at sea (lol), Daphne Always performed a parody(?) version of the theme from “The Nanny” that will live in my head forever. The JoCo Cruise is full of so much performance and conversation that is technically ephemeral, but psychologically permanent. I spent the week taking in as much of it as I could. As comedian Dave Attell once said many times: “You shoulda hung out, man…and it’s never gonna happen again.”
Maybe most definitively, I witnessed writer Tochi Onyebuchi and actor/producer Jasper William Cartwright perform “Man’s Not Hot” (a comedy song I was previously unaware of) in a way that will permanently crowd the original version out of my mind, even though I’ve now heard it.
(Tangentially: A book I love about seeing secret things and being in the places where they happen is
’s Medallion Status!)Do you have a favorite canonical version of a performance (song/play/joke/etc.) that isn’t the initial, officially released one? Let me know!
Oh and while I was away, The Bugle posted a chunk of the live show I was on as a podcast, and my conversation with my friend Sara Levine for her podcast Not Another True Crime Podcast about the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum heist (a topic of personal obsession) was released as well!
NEXT WEEK (3/29-3/30) I’m doing four shows at the Comedy Attic in Bloomington, IN! It’s one of the best clubs in the country, and if you’re nearby I’d love to see you there!!!
A few new live dates for those who are interested!!!
5/3-5/4: I’ll be at Commonwealth Sanctuary in Dayton, KY (near Cincinnati but across the river, I’m told) for four shows!
6/15: I’m running the set for my special at the tiny/cozy Kismet Improv Theater in Pawtucket, RI before I record it in Brooklyn! Come through Rhode Islanders, South Shore folks, and Worcester…ians(?)! Tickets are half gone already!
Finally (for this part of the newsletter), in honor of St. Patrick’s Day AND the eight year anniversary of my second standup album Physical Whisper coming out, I thought I’d share my bit about Massachusetts, the St. Patrick’s Day Parade, and marriage equality. (The stuff about medical marijuana and assisted suicide is fun too, but the relevant portion of the bit starts around 3:08.)
My old albums are all on Bandcamp, and honestly, when I listen back to Physical Whisper and Dancing on a Weeknight, I’m pretty happy with how the jokes hold up! Give them a listen and/or buy the physical media (a cassette of PW and a vinyl LP of DoaW) for yourself or as a gift!
PEP TALK FOR BAD SINGERS
“You are what you love, not what loves you,” says Donald Kaufman, the fictional twin brother of actual guy Charlie Kaufman in the film Adaptation, which was written by the Kaufman sibling who exists in real life. It is a piece of dialogue that is 90% lovely and 10% tragic in my memory (although it may be more pathetic than that; I haven’t seen the movie in a long time). Love doesn’t have to be reciprocal to be real. Although that gap is often filled with heartbreak. This philosophy can apply to romance or art or peanuts. But more than anything, this line applies to karaoke.
You do not have to be good at singing to enjoy it, or even to inflict it upon other people. That is the sacred Karaoke Compact. You can be bad, and that can be as worthwhile as being good. That’s true about all art, really, but usually the deal changes when you start showing your work to other people. You can knit as sloppily as you like, and you can let the slow progress fill your heart with satisfaction. But as soon as you bestow a holey, runny sweater upon someone else, the dynamic shifts. Fortunately, karaoke is a safe space where you can sing as badly as you want and it is only other people’s problem. (It’s also sort of the case with performing the national anthem, which I have seen done VERY badly even under professional circumstances.)
Quality, in this case, doesn’t matter nearly as much as enthusiasm. So don’t worry about doing a good job or a bad job. Just do it the way you enjoy it most and let everyone else deal with your bullshit. It’s a bad way to live but a great way to sing.
(Also it’s messed up that Adaptation came out 22 years ago. I saw it in theaters. That can’t be correct. Recount, please. I know and accept that I am aging, but this is egregious.)
PEP TALK FOR A READER
I did a little condensing of this pep talk request! You know the deal!
Hi Josh,
I am 40 with a traumatic brain injury. It almost killed me four years ago. It upends your whole life, leaving you a tad bitter and resentful, but it’s also a chance to evaluate and make changes. So, it’s a blessing in a way.
I currently live at home with mom and dad. I don’t have the money to move out yet, and feel so crushed that I am this way at 40. I feel like I am in an insurmountable hole. My curmudgeon parents wont help me with money (which they have). I could surely use some encouragement.
- Brainiyuck
The idea that we have to be in a certain place by or at a certain age is a myth, and it is especially a myth for someone who (medical term incoming) got their whole shit rocked while they were dealing with an ongoing pandemic. Brains are so chaotic and strange under the best circumstances (mine thinks that Emma Stone and I would become like…text each other memes thrice a year type friends if we ever met in person??? seriously, brain???) and and a traumatic injury adds (not to go out on a limb here) both injury and trauma to your head’s personal squishy electric sponge. You are not behind at age forty. You are hauling your body and mind back from the brink of destruction in the middle of your life. This situation is not insurmountable, at least not fully. You have already begun the process of surmounting it, and you continue to surmount a little more with each passing day. You will reach the…top of this surmountain? (SORRY!!!)
Your relationship with your parents sounds fraught: They’re providing you with a place to live, which you otherwise might not be able to afford, but they’re not providing additional assistance getting you out of this situation, which feels punitive. It sounds like you’re trying to get out from under their thumb by owing them more than you currently do already, a quicksand-style relationship honestly. I’m not a bootstraps guy, philosophically, but you asked for encouragement, so here’s the silver lining I can find: You’re in a safe but annoying situation right now, which is better than the more volatile situation that you might otherwise be in. And, once you’re out of this bind, you’ll be free and clear. You won’t have to do the double-work of keeping your life on track AND paying your parents back (or having them hold the cash infusion over you forever if they don’t ask for the money back). It’s hard to get the help that’s offered rather than the help you ask for. But, as the worst person you know seemed to say every fifteen minutes six years ago: It is what it is.
To, again, dip into technical jargon: Your situation is kind of bullshit. Rather than a prolonged experience of bullshit (food poisoning style), you are in the midst of condensed bullshit (manure style). And mostly the bullshit is in your head (not that it’s made up; it’s brain bullshit, a very real thing). It could be worse, and it will be better, which doesn’t change what it is, but with a little more time, you can (and will) do that.
PICK-ME-UP SONG OF THE WEEK:
Jonathan Coulton - “Ikea”
Jonathan Coulton, the titular “JoCo” of the JoCo Cruise, is (if you don’t know!) a prolific and gifted songwriter who has mastered the art of fusing a quirky or whimsical premise with a deep emotional undercurrent (as he does literally in his song “I Crush Everything” about a giant squid with low self esteem). This song “Ikea” is mostly about…Ikea, which is beautiful in its own way. It’s lovely to see someone with JoCo’s talent focus as keen an eye for detail on the satisfaction of successfully furnishing an apartment for cheap as he does on the feeling of being lonely and misunderstood and angry in a villain’s island lair.
UPCOMING SHOWS
I’ve got some really fun shows coming up! Come see one! More NYC spots are listed on my website, and more road dates are coming soon! OH ALSO: In April I’ll be guest cohosting Butterboy at Littlefield with my friend Maeve Higgins every Monday! :)
3/22: Wait Wait…Late Panel Show (Caveat, NYC)
3/29-3/30: Comedy Attic (Bloomington, IN) (Four shows!)
4/5-4/6: Junk Drawer Coffee (New Orleans, LA) (Four shows!)
4/14: Hosting the Writers Guild of America New York City ceremony!
4/25: Lovett or Leave It in Washington, DC
5/2: Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me Live Recording (Chicago)
5/3-5/4: Commonwealth Sanctuary (Dayton, KY) (Four shows!)
5/8: Cobb’s Comedy Club (San Francisco)
5/10: Here-After (Seattle) (Two shows!)
5/12: Helium Comedy Club (Portland)
5/16-5/18: Vermont Comedy Club (Burlington) (Five shows!)
6/15: Kismet Improv Theater (Pawtucket, RI)
6/21: NEW SPECIAL TAPING AT THE BELL HOUSE IN BROOKLYN (Late show tickets on sale now!)
Continuing with the karaoke theme for a moment, I once had the privilege of seeing a fellow deliver an inspired rendition of Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" in an impeccable pirate accent ("Here's me numbarrrrrrr, so call me, Matey"), which instantly became my canonical interpretation of that song.
A canonical performance: My tween daughter's rock band camp performance of the White Stripe's "Seven Nation Army", which was truly fantastic - the kids are alright - but especially the eight-year old fiddle player who STOLE THE SHOW! I have thought about writing Jack White to suggest they re-record the song to include what I now see an an obviously missing element.