The roast

I have never been a fan of roasts. I don't really get them. I guess it's funny to talk mad smack about a person and they sit there and take it? I guess it's a chance to give somebody the business? I don't know what the appeal of it is. But also to go so far as to have writers for a roast so that the person delivering the jokes isn't even connected enough to have their own jokes about the person; that's even more weird to me. Like I would sit and have my homeboys bag on me for hours cause ultimately, I know it'll be based on shared experiences and the undertone is love. But a stranger, with a writer? A writer that don't know me? What are you going to say? And how could it possibly relate to me except for it to be based on stereotypes that one would think are associated with me.

I saw a clip of a roast battle and the two didn't know each other at all and so all the jokes were based on race and outward appearance. It was trash in my opinion and the target audience was clearly people who enjoy that type of humor. Humor rooted in superiority theory. I just don't get it. I don't understand the joy of sitting and listening to people tear each other down using lies and innuendo. 

And I'm cool never getting it. 

Back in Middle School

So, clearly, I'm at one a month with my weblog. This is ridiculous. I have to do better. But what I'm not going to do is make every post about my bad blogging habits so moving on...

I have been substitute teaching these last few weeks and I have been reminded why I swore I would never teach again. I have done way more behavior management that teaching and because of my commitment to not yelling at children, I have softly and politely said "please sit down" more times in two weeks than I have in five years. 

I get it. I remember me in middle school and I was a nightmare. I think back now to those teachers I had and feel so bad. Back then, I thought they were old as heck but I know that they were just young adults trying to do their job and every day they had to come to work and deal this little a-hole.

I think the major difference between me and the kids I'm managing right now is that I did my work. I was an A student who misbehaved. These are D students misbehaving and that's the scary part for me. But eventually, one straightens up or enters the prison system. But one can't get educate up. The inability to read and comprehend is a life long sentence that follows one everywhere they go.

And of course, the real culprits here are the parents, the ones you can't yell or suspend or not take privileges from. They are untouchable despite being the biggest enabler of the madness. I think one time some years ago, a school district in California was fining parents for student behavior. That clearly didn't catch on. 

Mark Twain said something like school is where people are introduced to information and home is where they learn and I don't think people believe that anymore. I think people really think school is where the learning happens. But that's not true. For example, these students cuss like sailors and I know for a fact they didn't learn to cuss at school. 

I think because I'm a lot older now and not as invested because I am a substitute, I just kind of operate in love and patience. At the end of the day, these are not my children and the fact that they are uneducated is not my problem. I come to work everyday joyful and appreciative of the fact that I have employment and I leave that way. 

And I say "please sit down" with the softest voice I can muster. 

Boundaries and Bandwidth

Last year, when I was living in Los Angeles, I was producing a show called the Saturday Night Revue, and I was supported by an amazing manager, Mary H. Mary is an old friend from Chicago who, aside from being a great stage performer, is an amazing stage manager and tech. I believe tech is one of the most important components of live shows, especially sketch comedy shows, and I was super fortunate to have Mary on the team.

My producer brain is firing on all cylinders at all times, and almost every time I had an idea about the show, I was shooting Mary a text. It could be morning, midday, or evening. Idea comes in, text to Mary goes out. Finally, Mary hit me up and was like, "I don't have the bandwidth for this. There needs to be some control with the messaging." In that moment, I stopped and did something I had yet to do. I thought about Mary on the receiving end of these messages. 

Text has a certain level of immediacy, and to them, nothing I was sharing had urgency. Also, there was no reason to share in the moment, because nothing needed to be done. I replied to Mary with sincere apologies, and we decided that for ideas, suggestions, and to-do things, we would use email. For immediate needs, we would text. This arrangement created a respectful way to honor Mary's bandwidth and also to install some controls on my communication. I am forever grateful to Mary for this callout.

Those shows are over, and Mary and I are no longer working together on the project because it's done. But the lesson of controlled communication remains. I am now more aware of the need to respect others' bandwidth. I am also saying, "No one cares about your stuff as much as you," and I need to follow that quote as well. People have lives. People have jobs. People have projects of their own. They cannot be bombarded with your stuff all the time. 

Boundaries and bandwidth matter, and learning to respect both is important. 

Another minute

The signature for my email is visit this site, and every time I send an email, I ask myself, " What am I sending people here to see? I have fallen all the way off with the Daily Highku (sorry, Lori), and I probably need to get back to that. I should also just blog. Like, use this as a real web log. Like "I had coffee today, and it was delish."

Seriously, though, I live in Dallas, Texas now, and everyone is like, "How's Dallas?" and I'm always like, "It's cool," 'cause really I have only seen a small part of Dallas. I haven't started working yet, so the only places I go are church and the comedy club. Duality, am I right?

The comedy scene I frequent is really cool. Really young. I'm older than everyone there, including the club's owner, and that's really exciting. I feel like I found the comedy fountain of youth. The improv class has me on my feet again, exercising a muscle that hasn't seen a gym in years. There are differences in style, and I'm appreciating that. I have no desire to be the old guard running around screaming, "That's not how that's done," because a) clearly it is, and b) I think it's extremely important to respect the house. And the house is great and worthy of respect. 

I just recently started TA-ing a sketch class, and that's super fun. It's forcing me to write more often, which is what I need. I should be writing all the time, but the truth is, I usually do a ton of writing when I know a new show is coming up. This class is really going to serve me well as a writer because I will be tasked with writing, which will put me on a schedule I can and aim to maintain once the class ends. I am also hoping to become an integral part of the sketch program at the club, and this will help me understand how the house approaches sketch. 

I must also come here more often. Just in case someone gets an email and actually visits the site. 

Cheers!

It's been a minute

It's been a long time since I last posted to this weblog, and I am super conscious of it now because my email signature guides people to this weblog. I admit the Daily Highku has stalled. I haven't written one in months. I should write one now. I'll post that. 

So, what's going on with me? Well, I have moved to Dallas, Texas, and I have been adjusting to the move. Why Dallas? Well, I got married in October of 2025, and this is where my wife lives. I was in Los Angeles, and we decided that my coming here was better than her going there. And the gas is so much cheaper here.

I haven't really gotten out much. I spend most of my time rehearsing for my show in Toronto, which happens in March. I have started taking improv classes at the Dallas Comedy Club, and that has been exciting.

It's a long form 1 class, and even though I am familiar with long form improv and I have done it and taught it, I have never really gone through a full course and course structure. I'm learning a lot. I say all the time that improv is like barbecue, it's the same everywhere, and everyone does it differently. Dallas definitely does it differently than my introduction to it (which was Chicago). I'm liking my experience, and I intend to continue to take more long-form classes.

I also need to weblog more often. 

Let's see what happens. 

New York City

I have a lot of fond memories of New York. I was born in Connecticut, and when I would visit my grandmother and grand-aunt in Stratford, going to New York was always a treat. Later, when I was in university, I made several friends who lived in New York, and I would visit them often on my way to or from family visits in Connecticut.

My grand-aunt took me to a Yankees game once at old Yankee Stadium. I remember catching a foul ball, dropping it, and reaching down to get it, and the man in the seat in front of me was reaching under his seat, scratching my head in an effort to get me to release the ball. My grand-aunt bopped him over the head, and he stopped scratching me. There’s a picture somewhere of me holding up that ball.

I remember being at a store on Broadway and asking about a large Zippo lighter that said NYC on it. The man said it was $45. I then asked about the smaller one. He said it was $45. I then inquired about the larger one, again, and he said it was $60. That seemed like quintessential New York City to me.

I remember being in NYC for New Year’s Eve in 1998. I was amazed to see all the people in Times Square waiting in the freezing cold for the ball to drop. Even more amazing was how fast the cops cleared the street at 12:02. Five minutes into the new year, the only evidence of the number of people who were out there was the massive amount of confetti in the streets.

I remember almost dying in a bodega in the Bronx. I remember tying a bowtie for what I am convinced was a mobster from Sicily. I have fond memories of Brooklyn and visiting my great-grandmother before she passed.

New York may be the city of dreams, but it is the city of memories for me.

Please Donate $1 To The Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival

 

Please Donate $1 To The Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival DONATE 2 TO SKETCHFEST I am asking you to help support my favorite sketch comedy festival with a donation of just $1. As you know, I am a sketch comedian who travels domestically and internationally with my one-person show. No place has been more important to my journey than the Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival, also known as TO Sketchfest. In 2024, after being selected randomly to participate, my show won the Producer's Pick Award. In 2025, I was honored to host the Best of the Fest Award show. Additionally, in 2025, with your help, I was the top fundraiser for the festival, raising over $ 2,000. And I am now the face of the marketing campaign. This time around, I am trying to double that goal. To do so, I am calling, texting, emailing, and creating TikTok videos in an attempt to support this amazing festival. So, please donate a dollar or five to the festival. Every donation is tax-deductible, and, depending on the exchange rate, you may spend less than you pledged. Please help me support the Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival by clicking the link and making a donation. Thank you in advance for your support. WIN STATE!

DONATE 2 TO SKETCHFEST

DONATE 2 TO SKETCHFEST