Memories. Of the Way We Were.

It's been a while since I've posted, but when the computer's perpetually in the shop (I like how it sounds like a garage-shop), it makes it impossible. 

By the way, it's still getting fixed, but I've managed to pry Kate away from her computer for an hour this morning and sneak in a post. We'll see how long this lasts. 

Alas!! The weather is cooling to a comfortable temperature. It's mid-October and we've finally turned our air off and opened those windows in our condo. The noise of the fountain outside our window floats back in, having been muffled an entire season (being now in the second season of two that Phoenix boasts) and I feel like we're closer to nature than we actually are. It's as if our towering condo complex baking in the middle of a desert lot is now our little stream-side cabin, shaded, personal and quaint. Sure, the week did sneak in one day of 90s (it just doesn't want to let go of that summer), but in general, the mornings feel crisp, and the evenings pleasant and calm. Lingering at a comfortable 75 or 80, I can only imagine this "winter" is going to be quite nice. 

Today will be full of errands and productivity (I'm starting out ambitious), because the previous two days have been anything but. Friday night was spent dining with an old friend and then out in Scottsdale with some pals for a fake bachelorette party. The imposter bachelorette? Me. Free shots and an evening of loud screaming "bridesmaids" ensued. 

Saturday was a loungy day with Kate followed by a night-o-cooking of artichoke stuffed portabella mushrooms and bread salad, good wine and "The Way We Were." Clearly, we were feeling the old romance-type movie (of which is my belief, simply doesn't exist any longer. nor does meaningful love for any significant amount of time, but hey I could be in a biased stage). The movie was talked about in Sex and the City, so clearly it was a need-see. Final opinion: Barbra Streisand was surprisingly beautiful, and ultimately, we were satisfied with our movie selection. We didn't get to the other movie we rented, Abre Los Ojos (Open Your Eyes)- supposed to be what Vanilla Sky was based off of. Maybe we'll make time for it this evening.  

After the movie, two little bed bugs wandered in (Meri and Caroline) followed shortly by two crazy wedding girls dressed to the nines (Whit and Glo) offering stories of a white-trash evening, at which they didn't fit in.  Nearing midnight, everyone started calling it a night and I was ready to sleep too. For the first time in a while, I was able to just pass out. Hit the sheets and that was it.   

Words I'm currently bringing back: ralph (as in vomit)

Insults I'm currently loving: fascist and imposter

Now for those Sunday errands...

"Ok, go ahead"

According to Imraan Ismail, Phoenix is known for its comedy scene. He sees the likes of Jerry Seinfeld, Jimmy Fallon and Chris Rock "broadcasting live" from the Valley of the Sun frequently on Comedy Central. So, we decided to see what all the fuss is all about this past Saturday, put on our comedy friendly get-up and headed to "The Comedy Spot," (my very first comedy show and unequivocally not my last). 

I don't know that I've been on many double dates in my life. The whole idea seems quite lame. As I think of it, last night may have been the first double-date-ish evening. But, it certainly didn't let me down - not the company, (Imraan, Kate and Bub) nor the evening's activities. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. There was one disappointment (ahem, "testicles nickname" comedian), but that was it.

When I think of comedy clubs, I think of an obnoxious but charmingly vulgar comedian who picks out several audience deviants or those audience members radiating innocence. Or racially ambiguous members. Really, anyone who might be an easy target to ridicule (fat women, lady with an obnoxious laugh (counterintuitive?), old people in general, etc.) . And essentially, feeds them to the crowd, pointing out any obvious flaw or screaming insecurity that might entice an uproar. 

I know some people dislike comedy clubs for this very reason. But for me, it was exactly the opposite. That was the entire reason I was going. So, to my immense delight, last night was no exception to this preconceived notion of spontaneous ridicule. The loud-mouthed tables got spotlighted (literally - spotlighted. New discovery about comedy clubs: everything is pitch black except the stage. I mean black.), and the three tables in the very front, (the only ones the comedian could see from the stage) got it the worst. Primarily, the older married couple seated front and center. The gentleman was ethnic--and, he was deemed racially ambiguous. His khakis were snug, and, his "camel toe" was spotlighted. If there's one thing I learned, it's to attend more comedy shows, and to sit in the second row.

The night consisted of five acts, two being average, one pretty good, one outlandishly offensive (cue "testicles nickname" comedian), and one - phenominal. The phenominal one belonged to the headliner comedian, Mark Pitta, a seasoned comedian from San Francisco, whose comfort level of being on stage was uncanny, and whose Celebrity GPS impersonations were better than the actors themselves. By the end of the evening, I was truly, spitting out my whiskey, and fighting back the tears. Awesome simply doesn't do him justice, that Mark Pitta.

Later on, upon safely arriving home, (thanks to my personal designated driver) we all hopped onto YouTube to see other acts Mark Pitta had done (after all, the guy's a legend, having appeared on The Today Show, Jay Leno, SNL - you name it). Here's where the madness ensued. There he was, our Mark Pitta, performing in San Diego, in Boston, in LA, delivering the same punchlines, in the same tone, with the same pause between jokes. Wait a minute. WAIT A DAMN MINUTE HERE. What is this? Is he a phony, a fraud... gay? Is this how all comedians trick us? How can they get away with doing the same act over and over--in exactly the same way?

I was livid. And felt taken advantage of. How could this be? But - as usual, I was quickly grounded by my counterpart. He explained to me that that's how the good comedians get to be funny, and that they perfect and refine the delivery this way. And then I thought, it's not too different than a musician, singing the same songs on tour, is it?

Maybe I'm just so new to this comedy world that this came as such a harsh shock to me. Maybe it's wrong to assume comedians will come up with a completely fresh and brand new act each show. So now I'm here--from an intense high upon leaving the show last night to a sickening low when I learned the acts are the same, to a pleasant hue and perception of Mr. Mark Pitta, impressionist galore, experienced maverick and on-the-market cutie. Well done my friend. Awesome evening and GREAT first time.