Mischief Night

Tonight is the night before All Hallows' Ween, a night when most people are out smashing pumpkins while listening to The Smashing Pumpkins. It just so happens that I have a carton of eggs and toilet paper on me as I write this, but that's because I carry all of my belongings with me all of the time. Keep up, I've mentioned that before. Plus, it's two-ply and the eggs are from a farm share so the only way I'm cracking them tonight is if I stay up to make eggs for tomorrow morning which I will, most likely.

Anyway, it's mischief night, ooooh, are you scared? I've got two pumpkins at home that would scare the pants off of you... because they are fire hazards. The flames reach too far and have burned the lids such that I need to scrape burnt parts off of the underside of the tops and... that's spooky!!!

Also, my costume is ready. Eeek!!! I'm the wall from Stranger Things season 1. Nothing like putting on a costume to get me into the Halloween spirit, and nothing like needing to buy a costume to put me into a Spirit Halloween. Ooooh, seasonal stores!! A real monster's mash of mashed monsters costumes all over the floor. I bought the Christmas lights because I'm Jewish and don't have some already. The scariest part was forgetting my coupon! Oooh....

Be safe tonight. Stay indoors. It's mischief night, or, as the government calls it, Monday. Have a safe Halloween. Next week is the 6th year anniversary of this thing. Let's see if I know what I'm doing by then. Happy Halloween!!!!

Gassy Old Man

There are two questions that you can ask me where the answer is always yes; they are "Are you farting?" and "Did you just fart?" I tend to have a lot of gas, and I don't think it's my diet. Because I've tried changing my diet to leafy greens and healthy stuff, you know, rabbit food, and guess what? It seems like rabbits must fart a lot too because it hasn't helped me. I actually went online and watched a bunch of videos about them farting. Talk about a YouTube rabbit hole, am I right? 

Then I considered the fact that everybody farts. That was actually the prequel to the book "Everybody Poops," but it stunk. (Ba dum tisss.) And I guess I can rationalize it like that, right?

Is there something wrong with me? I mean, more than what's already wrong? I don't know... Should I see a doctor? The thing is, I've been to so many doctors recently, I'm starting to believe that I actually am the 65 year old man that I proport to be. I'm destined to be an old man, much more so than the general fact that I am literally destined to be an old man. I was born 40 years old, grumpy and swattting at the neighbors' kids or, I guess, neighboring kid (sorry Joel).

Anyway, I'm old and gassy, like the sun. I guess I'll just embrace it, right? Relaxing in the moment and the smells that surround me. It is not without its perks, though. My most proudest moment of gassiness was getting a guy to leave a crowded seat on the subway. I sat right down like "I don't know what his problem was. Air is fine here. Smells great to me." Best. Fart. Ever.

Watch The Late Stream this week on Facebook Live at 10:00 on Friday, 10/27. Should be a good time. Next week is Halloween. I'm nowhere near ready. Are you? 

It's Getting Hot in Here

Well, in two short months it'll be the holiday season. Considering that, I just want to take the time to say that climate change is real. We as a country should not be this heated. And I'm not just talking about the weather. I'm talking about every climate. They all change/have changed. And I'm not just talking about the fact that our president is hoping for a "White" Christmas, and forcing us all to have one too. And I'm not just talking about the fact that Santa is up at the North Pole sweating his balls off. I'm also talking about the fact that Mrs. Claus is being forced to blow on those balls and being kept quiet by the elves.

It's almost Halloween, and we already live in a time where some scary ass skeletons are coming out of the proverbial closet faster than Ryan seacrest on Fire Island. How many more Tom turkeys are we going to need to pardon before we see that some meat is dark inside, even when cooked. Sure, the weather is hot, but that doesn't give anyone the right to go around ripping each others clothes off against their will, saying things like "Did you see what they were wearing? They were just asking to overheat." It's not right.

And who's doing anything about it? Not these fictional characters. Oh, and leave Rudolph alone, would ya? So his nose is red, it doesn't affect you. You're not going to fix it; that would require plastic surgery (drastic surgery?) nobody has the money and quite frankly I'm willing to look past it.

Ugh, what a tangled mess we're in. As a respite from this heavy, heavy stuff going on, why not check out Sketchfest at the People's Improv Theater? I'm doing a Sketch Comedy show at 9:30 pm on Sunday evening. It is not ready as of now. Come see if it ever will be! It's topical, tropical, and downright slopical! Might be doing tech from the side of the stage. Come see it! $10 tickets for everyone. You know you need a break from the heat.

What's Cooking, Good Looking?

If you aren't aware, I am trying to hold down two careers and a part time job in NYC. If that sounds busy to you, it is. And stressful. So naturally, the thing to do is to pick up a hobby. And my hobby is going to be cooking.

I fancy myself a sous chef, which in French means "fancy chef." I take certain liberties with recipes, and by that, I mean I don't use them. If I have three ingredients, I just sauté them all together, doesn't matter what they are. Like if I have a lemon, a stick of butter, and a green bell pepper, it looks like I'm having lemon butter pepper tonight. That's the avant guard approach that I take with food. No meal is out of the question, especially if the question is what am I going to do with this lemon, this stick of butter, and this bell pepper?

I've gotten really good at cooking certain foods. Like fish. I'm good with fish. You want fish? Come over to my house. Don't come over unannounced; let's set up a date. I don't always buy fish, but when I do, I prefer salmon. Also, I cook chicken well. Chicken is fun because every so often you can leave it in the oven for a while and can still have it be bloody inside. Like, if it was frozen, it'll be uncooked and you'll have to wait another 10-15 minutes for dinner when you're running late. Fun, right?

Listen, I bought good knives and I bought a good cutting board, so as far Amazon knows, I'm a chef. Shhh, don't tell them if I'm not, although, who am I kidding, they probably already know! (Throws knives and cutting board out the window and hears screams and explosions). It makes me feel like one at least. (Peers out of the window with binoculars.)

And that's the true meaning of cooking, isn't it? To feel as though you've made something special, even though it may look brown and unappetizing, and your left wondering just how you burnt your lemon butter pepper? I think so.

Sorry I've missed a few weeks of these. I would say I've been cooking, but that's a lie. Life got crazy as it does from time to time. But like the good people say, "if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." And you know what, I like the heat cause I'm a goddamn sous chef.

Existential Alley

Every performer, content creator, artist, and Times Square Elmo will, at some point, ask themselves this very question: Am I doing enough? I happened to ask myself that question this weekend, as I walked from my 9 a.m. improv show back to the train so that I could get ready for the last three of six performances that I had to do this past weekend of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Remember that? You thought that that was over? Nope. Still going. They are actually doing it right now; I believe casts R and S are about to take the stage.

You see, even the busiest of performers get filled with doubt. Is this good? Am I giving this my all? Should I be doing more? All of these questions aren't really ever present in my head, as I'm the best at everything. But this weekend, they managed to squeeze through. Is it general self-doubt, that nagging presence that we all hate so much? Or is it a different kind of fear? Is what I'm doing going to be seen by an audience that is a little less "intimate" than the ones that I've been performing for? Should I stop asking rhetorical questions?

It's hard to answer any of these questions with more than one word: maybe. Saying maybe is not saying yes, as any improv teacher will remind you. But it is something, and isn't something better than nothing? I don't know. I'm feeling existential right now. I guess it'll pass, but there is a disturbance in something. I feel weird. Anyway, let me end this the way every scene in A Midsummer Night's Dream should end: I shall chide downright if I longer stay!!

Cruisin' for a Bruisin': Part 2

Right at the top here, I'd like to extend my deepest thoughts and sympathies to all of the areas and people disrupted by Hurricane Irma. It was terrible what happened, both in the islands and in The Southern states. I felt so bad for the people doing what we did just one week prior. There is no good way to recover from the devastation, but I'm confident that they can rebuild. Please keep them in mind and donate where you can.

Now, if you've ever been on a cruise before, then you still could not have prepared me for what I was about to experience, apparently. I asked many experienced cruisers what it would be like and received vague answers like "free ice cream" and "a bottle of wine will follow you around." I can get a bottle to follow me around at home too, so I was greatly unimpressed. Tell me something I need to know. If you sea something, say something, for Christ's sake.

But we went, nonetheless, with nothing but our smiles, because they took all of our luggage and said it would be in the room later. I found it outside of the room, looking a lot like it forgot it's Sail and Sign Card. Tsk tsk. The room always contained a weird animal made out of towel. I just kept thinking "I hope this seal is big enough to dry me off tomorrow morning." It was, don't worry.

The minute you get on a cruise, there is something to do (drink). It's almost annoying. I don't like vacations where there is too much to do. I could just sit on a beach for hours and not need a thing. Just a book, my sunglasses, a sandwich, and a towel. I carried way more than that amount of stuff to the beach because I don't know how to move efficiently with my things. But, it was ok, I gained a ton of muscle from dead lifting everything that I own.

We did ALL of the excursions. The only thing we didn't do was wander off to a nude beach by "mistake." We got the fruity drinks, we swam with the dolphins, and we ate raw conch meat. What a time to be alive! It was really fun. We took a lot of pictures, each one of which is worth a thousand words and also a thousand dollars, according to Carnival. At the end of the cruise I said "Sure, I'll buy them," and then threw my wallet off the side of the boat, a strict no-no. It's swimming with the dolphins now too, and I haven't been responding to PNC's letters.

The food on the ship was nothing short of amazing. We were served four course meals for dinner. I don't even eat four course meals at fancy restaurants in New York, and that's, like, the place to do it. I tried things that I've never had on land. Stuff like escargot, frog legs, and butter on bread, all of which was incredible. And, if you couldn't decide between two things, they would bring you both! You could've pulled a Ron Swanson and said "Give me everything on the left side of the menu," and they would've brought you that, plus the bottle of wine, because remember, that shit will follow you like your problems at home. Long story short, the expensive dining is overrated. The best things on vacation are free.

If you don't get sucked into the spa or the excursions like we did, cruising can be really fun. If you have a problem, they will do everything that they can to make that problem go away. It's almost magical. I think it's because they know you're trapped on a boat with them, and you can easily find them in their 4 person bunk beds and mess their night up. Unfold their tortoise towel and whip them or something. I'm not creative. Anyway, I recommend it but I was glad to get back onto land. I'll get my sea legs one leg at a time. Also, I cut up my credit cards, so I need new ones first before I go on my next adventure. But, this one was a boatload of fun!

Cruisin' for a Bruisin'

Ok, folks, I'm back, and I've got a sweet tan (sunburn that has stopped hurting). Why you ask? Because I was in Florida for half of a week and then I went on a cruise to the Caribbean. I'll explain both in a minute. I was gone for about a week and a half, and it was the busiest relaxing that I've ever done. I selected 'scheduled vacation' for time off at work, but I never thought I'd actually be doing that?!?! Ok, now I'll say a sentence that no one should ever have to utter; Let's talk about Florida.

For the most part, it was just hot and muggy. Oh, those dog days of August are tough ones, but don't worry, we prepared for it (squeezed sunscreen into as many 3-ounce bottles as we could). We went to Florida to catch the cruise, but first we stopped at the infamous and ever popular Walt Disney World and Universal Studios. Because that's what you should do in hot,  steamy Florida: wait it line for hours in order to ride a two minute ride. I mean, we used Fastpass+ on some stuff, but others, we just spent time waiting in 3 of the 4 Walt Disney World theme parks. Doing 3 Disney parks in one day is kind of like trying to find a Disney film that doesn't have some twinge of racism in it: you can do it but it's tough and you won't be able to see everything. At the end of the day, Disney does a light show on the castle with animated sequences that are very pretty. It's a good selfie/video moment, just ask EVERYBODY who was there.

I've been to Disney before (both Land and World) and I recommend going if you haven't been. It's a bit overwhelming, but if you just try to have fun and take in what you can, it becomes that magical place where dreams come true (with screaming children). I think Disney is a place where adults can go to feel like children. I mean, they feel like adults because they have to pay for everything, but they feel like children because it's clean, wholesome fun. When you take children there, they seem even more like children. I don't think young children should go to Disney. They should be like 9 and up and have a strong appreciation for Disney films with a memory that'll support the experience. If we wait even later, we might be able to lift some of the height restrictions on rides too!

Universal Studios was great because that's where Harry Potter World is! Those books helped raise me (along with the babysitter who introduced me to them), so it was nice to experience an immersive world made up of my childhood reading and movie watching experiences. It really looks like the world of Harry Potter. The rides are quick and the Butterbeer is expensive, but I wouldn't expect anything less from a hot, sauna like amusement park in the middle of Florida. I recommend going if you like Harry Potter. If you don't, the rest of Universal is great too. Absolutely nothing to do with Harry Potter and everything to do with Despicable Me and food and shopping. It's great.

But the real fun started when I went cruisin'... (to be continued)

Total Eclipse of the Fun!

Yesterday, we witnessed one of the greatest things in the history of America; Melania standing next to Donald Trump for longer than 10 seconds. Actually, I'm referring to the solar eclipse, which had the reddest parts of America on the edge of their seats viewing the reddest part of the sun. If you were lucky enough to get glasses or some piece of welder's glass, you could watch the entire thing happen very slowly over 2 hours. If you could get glasses, you had to stare directly at the sun or use an empty box of cereal. If you couldn't see the eclipse, you had to eat your feelings with a full box of cereal.

Normally, our parents say "don't stare at the sun, you'll go blind." They also say don't masturbate, you'll go blind." I killed two birds with one stone and jerked off into the sun. I went double blind, like I was playing Texas Hold 'em. So, as I write this, I don't. It's all being dictated to my ghost writer (Siri).

I don't miss my eyesight, or mysight, for short. I was tired of looking at all of the horrible stuff in this world, anyway. Now I can see the world for what it truly is: a bunch of sounds. Don't send me Warby Parker gift cards or coupons to Lens Crafters; I'll be fine. My sight is but a memory, which coincidentally, if one of my favorite Elvis Costello songs.

My sense of taste and touch has doubled. I'm now licking the floor and feeling my food. Lots of good tastes and touches there. I'm picking up hints of mud, subway grease, and lavender. Lot more lavender on the floor of the city than you would think. I know; it surprised me too. I said to myself "Self? What's all this lavender? Are people bathing in the streets without me?" I don't know.

Right before I went blind, I saw something spectacular. The world was quiet, as everyone observed what was happening above. People were sharing. People were excited. People were generous. If you didn't have glasses, you could ask someone near you, and they would just hand them over. It was really powerful. It showed me that if we all just buckle up, focus in, and work together, we can accomplish anything. That if we all are not so focused on ourselves and acting like assholes, then the world truly can be a wonderful place. So take that with you. Share something with someone. Be kind and remember: the sun is the center of the universe. We are so far from it that the moon can get between us and block out light for a few seconds. Think about that.

For the next two weeks, I'm on vacation. There will be no post next week. Not that anyone is looking for one. I'll detail what I'm doing when I get back. See you all in September. Love each other.

Messing Around

I've had an epiphany. You wouldn't know it by looking at me, but I've now realized that I'm a messy person. "No, Charlie, you're handwriting is so neat and you never spill anything but water on yourself." My friends, you're all wrong, I hate to say. I'm among the messiest of people; I'm as messy as the day is long. I'm like the Lionel Messi of being messy. (A soccer ball falls off of my shelf and hits the floor, which isn't really floor, but a bunch of toppled over magazines.) See? I'm a mess.

How did I get to this point? Let me make like good Nickelodeon and try to Figure It Out. In New York City, the apartments are so small that there isn't really a good place to put mess. It starts to creep from the bedroom to the kitchen and then invades the sink, couch, table, and foyer (for reference, in NYC, that's all one room). It consumes you like a good book and stacks up like a pile of good books. What I don't like is that I can't get rid of it. I recently tried cleaning and actually managed to make things messier. The gravitational pull of stuff to stuff is mind boggling. And god forbid you track mess outside of the house. Then the mess is loose!

You'll sometimes hear others call themselves and their friends 'hot messes.' This is not what I am. I'm a loose mess. I tend to carry stuff with me everyday, a certain mishmash of things that one could give you the impression that I'm homeless.  Like at any one time, I have about two to three bottles on me to return to the market for money. And I have everything that I need to survive a night not at home. Now, you could call this prepared, but I've lived with it, and it's definitely homeless adjacent. There is always a one in four chance that I will be homeless, so maybe that's it, but geez, I need to get my ducks in a row. (I look back and seven ducks have been following me eating the loose bread falling from a hole in backpack.) Ah! My dinner!!!!

And if that's not enough, I pay for small purchases with coins. You wouldn't immediately suspect it, but the poorer you are, the easier it is to make a mess. When coins roll all over a grocery store floor as you buy a tomato and one piece of bread, that's when you know, "Hey, things aren't going so great." That hasn't happened yet, but one wrong tip of my coin purse could literally change my life. So if you ever see a trail of pennies or dimes, you have to assume I'm close by.

I'll get it under control, I think. I'm going away on vacation next week, so hopefully the mess won't follow me. I'm going to Florida, which I guess you could call the mess of the U.S. So, that should be quite therapeutic. I'll become neat, and I'll try to to shape Florida into a law abiding state. Shouldn't be too hard. Seems doable. I'm gonna attempt it. Don't try to stop me. And hey, if I mess things up, you'll never even notice, because it's Florida.

A Starveling is Born

If you were looking to see A Midsummer Night's Dream this past weekend, you did not need to go to Central Park to watch the Public's Production. You could've stayed right in Times Square and watched hungry, young actors take a stab at Pyramus and Thisbe. Because at any one time, Shakespeare is happening all over New York City. And if you decided to see the show in Times Square, well, then, you'd have seen me, playing the role of Starveling/Moonshine, as there's a play within the play. It's a bit role, but bit roles were meant for me, as I hate memorizing lines and get nervous each and every time I go on stage, just like Moonshine. I could do Broadway, but only if I played "Guy #8 with the fedora."

I came into the rehearsal process late, and learned everything the week of the show. It's a hard thing to do, to come into a play mid-rehearsal. I've done that before (see Acting the Fool) and it didn't turn out well, but that was 9th grade and this was adulthood. Children are so cruel. Adults just don't care. It was easy to acclimate into, and I fit the role well. I just worried that I was playing the character, hogging a valuable acting role from some other starveling New York actor. (👀) But alas, I was not.

I went thrift store shopping at H&M for pants for my costume. I say thrift store shopping, not because I was thrifty with money, but because I was thrifty with pants material. I don't see the need to go back into H&M, unless I want to buy another pair of turnicates, I mean khakis. Everything is sold at a standard pants length of 32. Good, cause I'm a 30. I looked silly taking one item into the dressing room, when every girl around me was carrying whole clothing racks from the the second floor. I just had to remind myself that this was all for the love of my craft and hatred of my wallet.

All in all, the shows went well. Except for a couple of runs where my girlfriend tripped on stairs in the dark, I'd say the play went up great. There were only three performances, all which were at semi-off peak hours. The only problem was that the bathrooms on the floor that we were performing on were broken. You had to go up a floor or down two floors. So, needless to say, we all took turns peeing in each other's backpacks backstage. It was fun. We even invited the audience back to tinkle a bit too. Talk about immersive theater.

It was a lot of fun. 10/10, would do again. I actually would have liked more than three performances, if for no other reason than to really nail my eight lines. The last show's audience was tough to crack, and I was ready to attempt to make them laugh. But, it's over. And that's ok. We did it for us and we did it for the people who saw it. I felt good about it and it broke me out of my shell a little bite more. This stuff terrifies me, but sometimes, if you grab onto that fear and shake it's hand, it really does make things easier.