Gotta Catch 'em All (Up to Speed)!

I wanna be the very best/ blogger there ever was/ to write well is my real test/ to entertain is my cause...

I will make up some crazy stuff/ joking all the time/ in each blog post to understand/ the funny that's inside...

Monday Blog! (gotta post 'em all)/ It's me and me/ I know it's all just for me/ Monday Blog!, oh, you're my friend/ in a world we must up end/ Monday Blog! (gotta post 'em all)/ Always half true/ My language will pull me through

You write me and I'll write you/ Monday Blog! (gotta post 'em all)/ gotta post 'em all/ Monday Blog!

I know that that doesn't make up for me missing numerous weeks of posts the past two months, but wasn't it whimsical and fun? August I'm back on track, for sure. I was busy, and I mean really busy, Comedy, jobs, and moving my life from Manhattan to Brooklyn really got the better of me. But I'm emerging from the ashes like a Phoenix in heat, and by that I mean bird dick forward. You'll see. It's all going to work out and be alright.

So what if my new apartment is hot, smells weird, and has more roaches than Snoop Dogg's house? We have a woman currently running for president, so what a time to be alive! I, like the rest of America, will be guided out of the darkness by the light of her pants suit. You'll see. Anyway, I'll end with New Year's Resolution updates. They are good and very updateable, which is my favorite NBC show about computers who own a bar. So here you go! Next week is new, I promise. Pokemon Go enjoy your week!

1. Make a sweet Catch Me If You Can reference. (Completed)

2. Be a guest on someone else's podcast. (Completed)

3. Release more episodes of my own podcast. (Completed - 5th is being released whenever)

4. Write a TV show pilot. (2 in progress)

5. Write a play.

6. Take sketch writing classes. (Completed 2)

7. Join an independent improv team. (Completed)

8. Join an independent sketch team. (starting one very soon)

9. Write my own sketch show. (75% done)

10. Act in a sketch show. (the one I'm writing)

11. Host an open mic.

12. Do a feature set of stand up.

13. Attend a live taping of Saturday Night Live. (Completed - Hell Yeah!!)

14. Release a book. (this blog? someone help me do that!!!)

Odd-Jobs and Even-Jobs

Well, it finally happened. I lost track of time. My commitments, my decisions, and my alarm clock all got the better of me. I have really been slacking with these posts for the past two months. This is something that has never happened, and I really don't know what to make of it. I want to apologize, but I don't know how to accept my apology. Let me just say this; I've been really busy, and doing so much at once.

You know, it's funny. It's entirely possible to being doing so many things and getting nothing done as a result, and I feel like that's what I've been doing. I've been going around in circles, like "Have I passed this tree before?" and then realizing that yes, I have, and it's the correct path to take. Well, I'm sorry. I'm leaving the woods. Getting out of the weeds. Taking my medicine, as they say in golf and Mary Poppins. (The two are not dissimilar, something to do with big umbrellas, I don't know.) I demand better of myself. And that's what I'm attempting to do from now on. I was so busy chasing that extra dollar and the stuff that doesn't matter that I really ended up bothering some people, myself included, and for that, I apologize.

Speaking of chasing that extra dollar, Webster's Dictionary defines "odd-jobs" as "a job requiring little training or skill." Webster's Dictionary defines "even-jobs" as "no definition found" because I made that term up for the sake of a clever title. If I had to define it, I would define it as those jobs that make you square, or even. You know the ones, like an office job, where you're a building bitch, a workplace whore, a cubicle c$&@. You know what I mean, squares. I've recently realized that I'm not cut out for that life. I want to do odd-jobs for a living.

 "But you went to school, Charlie, and amassed hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt." You sound like everybody that I've ever mentioned this to. "You're not thinking clearly." But what if I am? "You can't make a livable wage doing odd-jobs." Challenge accepted. Ever heard of TaskRabbit? Postmates? Lux? These are things that I could do, easily and feasibly, on a schedule that makes sense to me, which is whenever I god damn well feel like it! Oh, I have nothing to do from 5 pm to 6 pm? Wrong! Mary needs her green juice brought to her on a golden pillow. I can do that. I can be your errand boy.

I'm a little errand boy, plain and simple, which was the original lyric to  the first line of the children's song "I'm a little tea pot," before they changed it so that kids wouldn't figure out that you don't need college to be happy. For me, all it takes is a set of instructions to follow. The happiest I've ever been was when I would show up at work, inbox like 30 computers and computer accessories, alphabetize them by the user's name, wait for old computers to be dropped off, perform step-by-step laid out computer commands, and then go install them at a cubicle desk. That's the only job that I've enjoyed so far.

Currently, I'm doing something similar in my free time. I'm basically working as an Uber for food. Foodber, the helpful Gremlin. It allows me to be carefree with my schedule, and I'm fully qualified to do it. Jobs that you know how to do are much easier than ones that you don't. That's just simple physics.

So we all do what we do to get by. But I want to challenge you try to break out of your comfort zone because it's just that. Not everything is as it seems. Discomfort is wonderful sometimes. Like when you trade a midtown New York apartment for one in Brooklyn. But more on that later...

Millenial Management

I have a confession to make. My name's Charlie... and I'm a millennial. Most you reading this are millennials too. I hate that word. It pains me to even think it right now. But wait, there's more. My name's still in Charlie, and I'm still a millennial, and also... I'm addicted to my cell phone. There, I said it. It's out. Oh, it feels so good to get that out of my pocket. You're probably reading this through your cracked cell phone glass right now like "Wow, me too!" That's good. Just admit it. Admitting it, that's the first step to recovery. The second step to recovery is "Did you try turning it off and turning it on again?" True story. 

Now, most millennials are addicted to their phones. It's in the definition, I think. Or if it's not, it should be. I treat my phone like its my 6th limb, right behind limb number 5, my dick!! (#FratMove) It's not literally right behind my dick, there's too much moisture there. Who wants to keep buying rice every week? But figuratively, it's like a part of my body. It's my identity. It connects me to all of the dumb crap that my friends do. Never before in history have we been able to connect on such a superficial level with so many people. It's mindblowing.

But here's the catch.  People who are older than millennials, say, the baby boomers, don't get it. They don't have blogs to update, Facebooks to read, and unnecessarily mean comments to leave anonymously on terrible YouTube videos. They just go about their day and when they need to, they call someone. Yuck! I sweat like a Texas Snowman when I'm on the phone. If you thought I stuttered in person, then you better w-w-w-watch out, cause it gets worse. It's crazy.

But, they don't have this problem. They gab and gab and gab like its no big deal. I love texting! (That might be the most millennial thing I've said yet.) It's just a more instant way to message people and you can't hear my sweaty, stuttering body. It works great for me. Carpel tunnel don't scare me at all. Well, maybe a little bit. But we'll cross that achy bridge when we come to it. 

Sometimes, I think about not always being on my cell phone. But then I shove that thought away and murder it and tell no one. What I don't like is when it gets me into trouble at day care, I mean work. But my problem is that everything happening on my cell phone is infinitely more interesting than what's going on at work. Even the junk emails. I like knowing that Walk-inTubOutlet is offering affordable luxury. That spa life is appealing. Anyway, I'll talk more about this later. Don't worry. I'll always be a millenial at heart. (Published from my cell phone.)

Del Close, but No Cigar

First of all, I'm sorry. I'm truly, madly, deeply sorry. You know it's bad when I have to make a Savage Garden reference to apologize. I missed last week's post, and this week's is late already, and for that, I will never forgive myself (immediately forgives himself). This schedule is important and I haven't taken it seriously. For that, I'm really sorry. I've been very busy.

Now that that's over, let's talk about this past weekend. It was basically [insert music festival here] for improv comedy in NYC. That's right, it was the Del Close Marathon (DCM). The Del Taco-Glenn Close Marathon sponsored by Seeso (if you want an ad free blog, pay me!) was one of the most fun things I've ever been to. Never before have improvisors elicited deep, belly laughs from me. I really enjoyed myself. I thought 56 straight hours of improv would be scary, tiresome, and hilarious. It was all three and more. I got very little sleep, watched comedians (some more famous than others) do improv, and I even managed to perform in a show at 5:10 on Sunday morning. It was mind blowing.

I'm a bit of a celebrifile (wins understatement of the year award!) which is a term I made up that means that I'm obsessed with celebrities. I get really, really nervous around them, though. Like I fist bumped Jason Manzoukas in passing and spent the next five minutes trying to stop sweating. But when you're there, and Amy Poehler passes by with her children, you just have to remain cool. Don't freak out. Everything is fine. Slow your heartrate down. Don't throw a book at her like "Here, sign this!!" Play it cool. They're just people.

I've talked about improv on here before. It excites me and confuses me and I love watching it done well. And getting to watch it done by people you only know through your television and ear holes is pretty cool. But with great star power comes great restarsibility. The toughest part is the lines. If you thought coming up with lines on the spot was tough, try waiting in them! (Ba dum tissss)

Now, I'm no stranger to waiting in line (re: SNL waiting) but wow, when you're missing one thing to maybe get into something else it's tough. First world problems, I know. But that's the reality. That's the base reality that has been established. And we all just have to say "Yes, and!" (Turns and winks at no one!) 

Was it worth it to not sleep and run from theater to theater in NYC. You bet your sweet sweet ass it was. I didn't get to see everything, but what I did see was fun and original and awe inspiring. It's an interesting feeling to be on the cusp of emerging into this established world that so many people flourish in. Or pretend to flourish in. Improv is tough. Everybody I watched made it look easy. Watching it was quite the experience. It felt like a wild, mini-vacation. I didn't really feel it until I went back to work on Monday. Umph!!! What a punch in the gut! I couldn't focus at all, which partly has to do with my being tired and partly has to do with my interest in what I'm doing. 

I got into the festival for free. I know, right? All you have to do is volunteer to help out. I'm of the "I'll help anybody" mentality because if you help people, they remember you. And when you need help, they come to your side if you've done a good job for them. So I worked at what's called the Party Space, which is like an art gallery turned into a makeshift party. There was a dance floor on the photo shoot space. Makes sense, right? But I worked the closing shift Saturday night, 11:45 pm to 4:00 am Sunday. That's a wild time there. I couldn't drink, but I lived vicariously through the partiers leaving there drinks on every surface, ledge, and floor. It was hard work and consisted of me throwing out soupy piles of trash soaked in beer... and also my shoes, but I would do it all again if I could. 

Now that I've done it once, DCM will be so much easier next time. I'm already planning out next year's activities. I should probably get in line now if I want to get a good seat. There's probably like 3 or 4 people in line at UCB Chelsea. I'm gonna go do that. Let's talk later. 

Idle Hands and Eye Contact

Today, I want to talk to you about eye contact. I realize that the title gives that away immediately. I'll try to work on burying the lead next time. Now, as we all know, eye contact and idle hands are the devils play things. That's just a fact. Personally, I like the devil. I'm not a satanist or anything, I just like the color red... and fire... and pagan virgin sacrifices. Ok, I might be a satanist. Anyway, to borrow a popular phrase from the English language, my point is this; Eye contact will make or break you. Let me mansplain this to you.

A lot of the time, eye contact is a sign of aggression. Like when you look at a dog (dog reference #1), stare at people on the subway, or stare at people in prison. Also, much like in prison, don't call people bitches (dog reference #1.5) on the subway. Very scary! 

I want to speak about the happier side of eye contact, though. Eye contact is one of the most intimate ways to get to know someone, aside from sniffing their butt like a dog (dog reference #2). Eye contact can creat amazing connectivity, be it on stage during improv or in the bedroom during sexprov. Eye _______ (whoops! My contact fell out...). Eye contact tells you things about people that they can't tell you about themselves. It's like looking into their soul and trying to create a scene off of the suggestion "the zoo!" Too many sleeping cats. 

Finally, I believe that there is another type of eye contact. That's the type of eye contact that you make with the outside world. One of my life mottos is "see and be seen." I'm about to give you the only tip that you will ever need to get into show business. If you don't have a pad and pencil or your mouse at the ready, then you aren't hungry enough. If you are hungry, go and make yourself a success sandwich. A success sandwich is just bread, tomato, turkey, coleslaw, bacon, success, and a second piece of bread. That's more of a success club deluxe, but you get the picture.

Ok, here is the real advice. If you want to be seen by the world, the world needs to see you. Make eye contact with it, if you will. Leave your room, your apartment, your house. Go somewhere. Cause the world won't find you at home. Go out, look people, dead in the eyes, and help them. They will, in turn, help you. That's all I can say. If I haven't seen you, I don't know who you are. Sometimes, even if I have seen you, I still don't know who you are, but that's only because I bad with names. I'm bad with names is my way of saying I'm selfish.

Have a good week, and I hope to see you somewhere. Let's make eye contact, then love. Then do improv. Yes, and eye contact. See what I did there?

The Case of a Penny Found v. A Penny Earned: Part 2

Change is everywhere. (Thanks, Obama!) All you have to do is keep your eyes open. Pennies are a dime a dozen. Actually, they are 12 cents a dozen. There I go leaving out my two cents again. Nickel for every time that's happened. Quarter. But, you're probably asking me, "Charlie, what types of coins will I find most often on the ground?" I'm glad you asked. Pennies. Lots of pennies. Dimes are less frequent, but still popular. Nickels are rare. Not quarter rare, but rare nonetheless. Of course, it all depends on where you look.

Let's step back for a second. I said that I conducted an experiment. I'm now legally referred to as Science Charlie. I changed my birth certificate. Anyway, the experiment is this: How much money is on the ground of New York City at any one time, or at least everyday? What I did was keep track of how far I walked and how much money I found for 10 days. I can show you the entire chart, but that seems boring to me. Let me go over the averages. I averaged approximately three miles of walking and $0.21 per day. And Google says that New York City in 304.6 square miles in size. But how do I get my distance traveled to become square miles traveled? I assumed my field of vision, the amount of ground that I can accurately pay attention to, to be 10 feet in either direction, or 20 feet wide. The conversion becomes 0.00379 miles. So, 304.6 divided by (3 multiplied by 0.00379) multiplied by 0.21 equals............. approximately $5,600.

So, everyday, there is about $5,600 dollars on the ground of NYC. That's good money. I mean, honestly, it's my main source of income. You're telling me that on the ground of New York City, there is approximately two Hamilton tickets worth of money? Sign me up. That's a lot of Tubmans.

Now, back to where to look. I'm going to give you the low down on where to find money that's down low. Here's where to look: grocery stores, subways, post offices, malls, convenience stores, and Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins/Subway stores. So now you know the secrets. But hey, this is my thing. Don't you dare ruin this for me. Seriously. 

All of this is to say that money is out there. Free money. It's broken up into tiny metal pieces, but it's there. Seriously, though, there is a large amount of money on the ground, just waiting to be picked up. It's not possible for one person to get it all, but like, say, 100 people could get a lot and then donate it to a charity, I think. Or maybe I could start my own charity? Anybody want to do that with me? Let me know. And I'm totally willing to look more into all of this. You just have to pay me first!

The Case of a Penny Found v. A Penny Earned: Part 1

"Buck"le up, folks! This one's long. (That's what she said!) Actually, I'm splitting it into a two parter. More on that later. For the past three weeks, I've been conducting an experiment. As Bernie Sanders could tell you, money is tight for the middle class these days. I took a real gamble when I up and moved to New York City to pursue the only job that would hire me as a civil engineer. And so far, that gamble has not payed off financially because I decided to live in Midtown Manhattan, where the only thing that's cheap is the fruit on the street (and the hookers, also on the street). The rest are tourists, fancy bars, and expensive housing. But that's not even the half of it. See, I went to college for civil engineering (see above), and I went to an expensive college (see my bank account). I got a really good education there, and now I'm getting a really good education in paying bills. Ever since the end of 2014, my loan bills have cost me half of whatever my monthly income was at the time. Don't believe me? You should.

But, wait! I know what you're saying. My problems are simple. I just need a second job. Well, sure, yeah, ok, maybe, I don't know, what would that be? Something fun, light and casual, like a side salad with dinner? Something that I could do in my free time, that wouldn't make me even more tired after working my 8 to 4 big person's job, like eating a side salad at dinner. Well, I think I've found it. It's all of those things and even under the table money. No, it's literally under the table money because the job is picking up change that find on the ground. 

Boy, it's funny. Who would've thought that having less money would make me more stereotypically Jewish? Now, I'm about to talk to you all about loose change (the coins, not the 9/11 conspiracy documentary, although, I could talk to you about that too, if you want. I have thoughts. I'm a civil engineer). If this is the point on this ride where you get off, I understand. Close this blog and have a cookie. The rest of you hold on tight; we're going places (to look for change).

To Be Continued... 

Checking In

So sorry, but things aren't going as originally planned. I'm busy, that's what? Oh, you didn't say anything. Cool. Anyway, the fourth installment of the month in the "versus" series is coming. It'll be next week. It needs more work. Think of it as a holiday surprise!. So this week, I'll just check in with you all. There is another Monday coming up, so I'm not worried. It's Memorial Day, but you don't need me to sit here and man-splain to you about how a calendar works. You get enough of that from the conservative liberal agenda on TV.

Don't be super jealous, but I just got back from Miami. I know, right? Liquid sunshine and liquid moonshine, that's what I say. I was there to see the iHeartRadio Summer Pool Party. My dumb brother won tickets over the radio or something. So we flew to Miami for the weekend and hung out at the Fontainebleau Resort. If you take all of the vowels out of that name, its just Fntnbl. But, I digress. It was everything I dreamed of and more. I definitely heart radio. It was sweet to hang by the beach, hang by the pool, and touch Flo Rida's sweaty arm. The risk of Mersa is worth it, I think. I ain't afraid of no staff (infection). The concert was one of the best I've ever been to, even when they threw inflatable pool toys onto the audience. Like big, heavy, four-person inflatable pool toys, ones that would knock your phone and your beer out of your hands. I knew a lot of the songs, which always makes it better. Not that I go to concerts where I don't know the songs, but still. 

Once that drain on my wallet ended, I realized that I was feeling the burn. No, not voting for Bernie Sanders, actually feeling my sunburn. All the aloe in the world can't fix this red skin. My skin is so red (how red is it?), it's so red that it plays football for Washington, D.C. (Ba dum tsssss) This always happens. I guess I burn easy. You know what they say; if you can't stand the heat, get out of the sun.

So that's about it. I'll update you on my New Year's Resolutions below. Let's get to the summerin', that my motto right now. Peace!

1. Make a sweet Catch Me If You Can reference. (Completed)

2. Be a guest on someone else's podcast (Completed)

3. Release more episodes of my own podcast. (Completed - 5th is being released whenever)

4. Write a TV show pilot. (2 in progress)

5. Write a play.

6. Take sketch writing classes. (Completed 2)

7. Join an independent improv team. (Completed)

8. Join an independent sketch team.

9. Write my own sketch show.

10. Act in a sketch show.

11. Host an open mic.

12. Do a feature set of stand up.

13. Attend a live taping of Saturday Night Live. (Completed - Hell Yeah!!)

14. Release a book.

The Case of The Daily Show v. The Nightly Show

Recently, I had the opportunity to see both The Daily Show, with Trevor Noah, and The Nightly Show, with Larry Wilmore. Both shows are amazing to see live. But which one is better? Let's find out (said in Mr. Owl voice while licking a tootsie roll pop).

First, the Daily Show. Jon Stewart left Trevor Noah a show that really does measure up at least somewhat to the other show. It was fun to attend and I enjoyed seeing Ken Jeong as a guest. Ken's story is so cool. A doctor turned comedian. Just like me, except I'm a civil engineer. But essentially the same concept, professional turned naked man in the trunk of a car. The similarities are endless, but the main point is that I could do it. The funniest thing that Trevor did was during the Q&A, I thought. He answered a cultural appropriation question by saying that only in America do you have white people who want to be Black. In Africa, the white people are like "Nope, we're good."

Also, the joke writing is so solid and the delivery that Trevor has is really good. Any time you can bring an accent in that isn't your typical British one is refreshing and great. And they mentioned a story about Donald Trump taking people's urine samples and tailoring vitamins to them in what was the greatest pyramid scheme ever devised. I'm sorry, it's pronounced pee-ramid scheme. I tried to write a sketch about it for two weeks and nobody ever understood what I was talking about. That's the obscurity that the Daily Show has to offer. My own little moment of zen.

Now, the Nightly Show, which I was just at tonight...ly. I'll keep it 100 for this description. I really, really enjoyed it. The studio is small, as they always are, but the content is big (starring Tom Hanks). The warm up comedian stepped out and did his job well and he even handed out prizes, one of which was a nightly show shirt that I was lucky enough to receive. I got it because I could produce a condom from my belongings the fastest in front of a live audience. Ask me in person for the full, hilarious story. Needless to say, I never been happier to pull out a condom. Ever.

Once, Larry showed up, he did what Trevor did and answered questions. Then, the show started and it was all about Donald Trump. But, Trump is in the news. Hell, he is the news. So we really can't fault topical writers for going to what they know. They had a Trump impersonator, much like Anthony Atamanuik. He was good and really brought out a fun side to Larry that I haven't seen. Paul F. Tompkins was the guest, a true legend if I may say so myself. He is a great comedian worth checking out on almost every podcast available and I felt so proud when he said his favorite city to perform in was his home town, Philadelphia. Great job, Paul.

All in all, 10/10, would do both again. This is one of the big reasons that I moved here to NYC. To be able to do stuff like this. Go to work, see a show, go to bed, rinse, lather, repeat. See you next week, when I tackle money: Where is it and how do I get it? More on that later.

The Case of Sketch v. Skit

Alright, people. Listen up! This is gonna be another month of themed posts. Deal with it! If you don't like, don't read it.

Now that that's out of the way, I've got something to say. It's sketch, not skit. This is such a pet peeve of mine. (Side note: if I ever have a pet, like a dog or a cat or a bat, I'd name it Peeve. That way, it would be my pet Peeve. Right? Like my pet Bat Peeve! So cool.) You don't even know (but you will know if you keep reading). Let me explain the problem, so that we are all on the same page (of this SKETCH!!, not skit). There are two different words for short, written comedic pieces. There's sketch, you know, from sketch comedy, the overarching term for a genre of comedic entertainment, and then there's skit, you know, from that thing that your five year old nephew did at his kindergarten graduation, where he played the tree and had one line that was "Leaf me alone!" Ha ha. Remember that skit?

So, I've basically buried the lead and shot my wad way too early (if it's possible to do both, and let's, for the sake of argument, say that it is), but that's essentially the thesis of my rant. Always call any short form of comedy that you see on stage or television a sketch. It will make you sound smarter. On Sunday, when you watch the recap of SNL because you can't be bothered to watch it Saturday night because it hasn't been good since the 1970's, and you talk about the pieces afterwards with your friends, call them sketches. Do not, under any circumstances, come to your UCB Sketch 201 class and call an SNL sketch a skit. I will paper cut you to death. It's called sketch comedy, not skit comedy. It's called UCB Sketch 201, not UCB Skit 201. Bro, do you even write? What are you doing? If I was teaching the class, and someone said skit, I would mark them absent, even if they'd been there the entire time. Don't test me!

Now, I may never have written a good sketch, but I can honestly say I've never written a bad skit, or any skit, for that matter. I don't write skits. I write mediocre to terrible sketches where there are too many things going on at once. That's what I do. So you go ahead and work on your little skits and come back to me when you have sketches. I'll be waiting. Rant over.

Come back next week to see what I rant about then.