Dwayne Perkins from Comedy Central & NBC's Funny Blog. Amusing Musings

I did a show in Hollywood last Saturday night and the comic before me was 92 years old.  He started comedy when he was a wily 91.   He actually did very well and was quite astute at joke telling.

Right now you might be feeling bad about yourself.  You should, but you should also be emboldened that the adage that it’s never too late to be what you could’ve been is a real thing.  I don’t see Max selling out the Staples Center or starring in a buddy cop action comedy* any time soon but to have your health and wits about you enough to tell jokes at 92 is amazing.

A 92 year old gets the same crowd support that an 8 year old would get.  The audience wants them to do well and is already impressed that they’re even on the stage.  It’s adorable.  The fact that Max hit every joke dead on was a very welcomed bonus.

What have we learned?  For 1 comedy obviously keeps the mind sharp and secondly it’s never too late.  So pick up the phone and get the old band back together.

*QSN(Quick Side Note): If Max did star in an action buddy cop movie what would it be called?

• • Old But Not Yeller
  • Geriatric Tactics
  • I’m Actually Too Old For This S@$t!
  • The Early Bird Special
  • Stop! or I’ll Poop

I was recently at a fellow comic’s house.  I consider him a peer.  A peer with 2 kids in High School.  He’s older than me and maybe he started young but still a peer with children looking at colleges can make a guy feel long in the tooth.  These thoughts were  not really at the forefront of my mental though.  They were more like a program running silently in the background.

Then something happened that made the “The feeling old” app run in the foreground. and close all the other apps running in my head.   My friends daughter made a phone call on her cell.  I guess she was calling a home line that was busy.  She turned to her dad and said

DAUGHTER: Dad,  there’s like a buzzing sound.

FATHER: Let me hear it.  Oh that’s a busy signal.  It’s what you get when someone is at home and on the phone and they don’t have call waiting.

She had lived 14 years and never once heard a busy signal!  She probably thinks Bon Jovi is an actor, Mark McGrath is a game show host and Charles Barkley is a sports commentator who gets away with more than most commentators do.

After feeling old for the next few hours I thought of the implications of never hearing a busy signal.  It means never waiting.  I know I’m dangerously close to saying..”In my day…”  From a technology standpoint I realize I had it easy growing up but I actually heard someone in a commercial say “That was so 27 seconds ago”

Is there a point where convenience becomes debilitating?  A point where we eliminate work at the expense of eliminating coping skills?  I won’t say “in my day….” but I will say we are dangerously close to that point of uselessness.  How many times have you stayed on the channel you were watching because you couldn’t find the remote?  Completely forgetting that pressing the buttons on the TV or cable box was an option.

I’m old enough to know what a busy signal is but I’m also old enough to call back or to write and send a letter in the mail and to look up things in a phonebook if needed.  It’s not exactly living off the land but yes, I am stronger than most kids today.   Am I’m up on the times as well.  I don’t even own a home phone, so there.

For a blog on luxury turned silly peep my blog about the Burj Al Arab Hotel in Dubai.

A while back I wrote about the frequent but implausible way things happen in twos.  I coined the occurrence a God Wink.  Say the word ramp then you hear someone on TV say the word ramp a beat after you.  That’s a God Wink.  Just a little nudge that suggests the randomness may not be that random after all.  Though clearly beyond our scope of current understanding.

I recently listened to a set I did in Sacramento.  Watching yourself is tough but if you don’t know your past…  I was doing my new favorite joke. In the joke a disgruntled person at a hospital asks to speak to a manager.  Don’t worry I haven’t given away the meat and potatoes of the joke.  While my made up character was complaining to a made up worker some guy in the audience near my camera was complaining to a real waitress and demanding to speak to a real manager.   Apparently his beef was over the two drink minimum.  Seemed he thought getting a hot tea and then having it refilled should count as two drinks.    I didn’t notice while I was on stage.  A sign of the professionalism of the Punchline staff.  Also, a sign that I was doing well and the laughter of the less miserly patrons drowned out Old One Tea Willie.

The man actually said the word manager a beat after my character did.  I could tell at that point he was no longer listening to me so we independently asked to speak to a manager at the same time.  Neither my character or One Tea Willie got what they wanted but I got a God Wink and another reason to suck it up and watch one of my sets every now and then.

Quick Side Note:

I once experienced a God Wink on my way to get pho(Vietnamese noodle soup)

I wrote a blog just 12 hours ago about seeing Charlie Murphy do stand-up.  Two thumbs up for darkness.  In that blog I mention some of the other actors turned comics who didn’t fare as well as C. Murphy.  Most notable are Charlie Sheen and everyone’s favorite house guest Kato Kaelin.

I wasn’t prepared to see Kato Kaelin in person just 4 hours after I posted the blog.  The world is a small place when you’re putting people on blast.  I felt bad because I could see Kato in the audience enjoying my stand-up.  The harder he laughed the worse I felt.   What if he really dug my stuff and decides to look me up.  Maybe read my blog and the 1st thing he reads is me tearing him a new one.

I don’t take back what I said.  I think Kato would agree that Stand-up wasn’t his bag.  His audience skills are impeccable though. Seriously, if I had an extra house, I’d let him stay in it.

Maybe my next blog will be about Gabrielle Union.

Most comics don’t take kindly to famous non-comics jumping into comedy to cash in on their fame.  Sure, they can fill a room with people but they usually proceed to disappoint those people.  Any bad show, especially one that cost top dollar, is a black eye on comedy. I don’t put people on blast as we do live in a free country and audiences exercise free will when they buy tickets to see someone do something they have never done.  What people don’t realize is learning to do something after you’re famous is extremely difficult.  I wouldn’t charge people to watch me learn how to play piano.

I feel like an example is in order.  Again, this isn’t putting someone on blast as much as it is making a case in point.  Charlie Sheen, hilarious actor, but he owes 4700 people in Detroit their money back.  Kato Kaelin tried his hand at comedy and so did John Bobbit.  One is famous for living in a guest house and the other is famous for being the 1st member of the lost member club.  They had as much business doing comedy as I have getting a job rolling sushi.

So it was with some trepidation that I went to see Charlie Murphy do comedy.  Sure he was hilarious on Chappelle but stand-up is a different animal.  My stomach couldn’t bear seeing someone with Murphy as a last name not be good but I told my man Kwame Siegel, who opened for Charile, that I’d come thru.

Charlie hit the stage and I immediately let out a big “Whew!”  He was good.  In fact he was very good and his acting chops actually made for a great show.  It was like watching a stand-up who wasn’t needy at all and really focused on connecting with his audience 1st and making them laugh a close 2nd.  I was with Charlie Murphy every step of the way.  He was at all times honest and funny.  Some good stand-ups might get more laughs but few comics would have a show that was  as enjoyable as Charlie’s.  I actually learned from watching him.  Lessons can come from the most unexpected places.

My prognosis for Charlie Murphy is that he will only continue to grow and get better.   Hat’s off to Darkness.  You did your thing family.  Brooklyn we go hard!

Most Bally’s shower stalls don’t have curtains. It makes for looking straight ahead showering. Some smaller Bally’s don’t even have shower stalls, just a big room with several shower heads. That makes for heading straight home without showering.

In the Glendale, CA Bally’s the big shower room is adjacent to the toilet stall and sink. It’s usually empty or there’s a guy showering super fast, as if he’s getting charged by the second. A communal shower room is not the place to get clean. It’s more of a place to quickly rinse off the stink. So imagine my surprise and horror when I looked up from the urinal and saw a guy in the shower room sitting down on the floor, pensively with his head in his hands, as water fell on him. No shower shoes on, sitting down on the floor. I wouldn’t do that in my own shower.

Apparently, the man and his antics are a staple in the gym. Good to know a membership to the Glendale Bally’s comes with a resident crazy guy.

How does someone get to the point where they’re sitting on a public shower floor nude for 30 minutes a pop? That’s a story I think any mildly curious person would want to know. Was the man always a little touched? Did he drop some diabolical acid? Was he left at the alter and vowed to spend the rest of his days making people in various gyms uncomfortable? Perhaps his runaway bride was a personal trainer?

See, the possibilities are endless. Crazy is never the story. How the crazy was born is a tale for the ages. I want to see this guy’s prequel. What’s his Episode 1 that turned him into the Bally menace?

With networks and websites always pining for more content, I have an idea that will revolutionize programming. I say we extract the highlights from touched people and make them downloadable either into your computer or phone, for now and later on directly into your head. What could more entertaining than seeing how a Phi Betta Kappa become a person who collects plastic bags on Sunset Blvd. in preparation for the return of his mother ship? Even if the person was always a bit off, had a normal life and there was no inciting incident the story will still be a page turner when you add in the director’s commentary. That’s the wayward person explaining their own story…

CRAZY COMMENTARY: See how that table is mocking me? That’s why I hit it with my head.

The good thing is the “Behind The Crazy” series will never run out of subjects to showcase. I see the series eventually expanding to include “Behind The A-hole” and “Behind The Magician” What drives someone to pull quarters out of people’s ears? Until we figure out how to extract people’s memories, I’ll just have to fill in the back stories.

Never fall for a personal trainer unless you’re sure they feel the same lest you find yourself sitting on a cold floor all wet.

I walked into Starbucks near Queensway Rd. in the Bayswater section of London. 6 months ago I was in there almost daily for a span of 3 weeks. 6 months before that I was in there daily for a different 3 week span. It felt like I had just been there the day before as opposed to 6 months ago.

The same two baristas anchored the coffee bar. Did they recognize me? Did they wonder why I’m a fixture for 3 weeks at a pop then disappear for 6 months? If I was friendly enough or odd enough during my 3 week spans, could I lead them to believe that I live in London?

Then I wondered about their lives. What had transpired since our last tea/money exchange. Had they found love, lost love. Maybe this guy/girl barista duo dated but thought it wiser to remain friends. Maybe they’re magical in the Starbucks galley but clash in real life and had to learn the hard way that foam and love don’t mix. Or maybe they had been too busy with life’s day in and day out drudgery to reach any milestones. Maybe nothing significant has happened in that time frame. Or, maybe no outward change took place but revelations had. Maybe epiphanies not visible to the naked eye had transformed them into new beings.

Then back to me. Was I a better person an improved comic? Maybe my goals should be synced with these UK trips. Maybe I’ll comprise a list of things to do before I see the dynamic duo again. Or maybe they’ll have moved on when I come back.

I remember being 5 years out of college, living in Boston and people in front of my mother’s New York building me asking me how school was going. Did they think I was pursuing a triple doctorate or had they let time pass them by? Next time I’m in Bayswater, I must tell the friendly baristas of all my travels and biddings. That is if the line behind me isn’t too long.

So I was hanging out in the Bayswater section of London. I consider it my old stomping grounds. So I thought, why not hang in Bayswater my last official night in London. I hopped into a Super Drug store to get some lozenges. The cold weather had finally got to me just as I was about to leave. My plan was to throw lozenges down my gullut and hope I didn’t get too sick to watch 4 movies on my 12 hour flight home.

Cold-Eze are my lozenge of choice. The zinc tastes horrible but coats your throat and cuts the sickness time in half. Unfortunately this modern marvel of cold warfare has not made it’s way to the UK. Regular menthol drops would have to do. As I stood in line the guy ahead of me made a purchase and the cashier tried to upsell him on a holiday perfume deal. CK One was on sale. I’m not much of a perfume person myself. I think regular bathing and Jergen’s Original Scented lotion is all most people really need. You might catch me rocking Egyptian Musk if I recently made a trip to Venice Beach or Downtown Brooklyn but that’s usually because I fell prey to a bean pie upsell.

The gentleman ahead of me declined the cologne offer but did spray copious amounts of the sample bottle on this neck and chest. QSN: At what point does sampling become stealing? Then this guy who I’ve never met before, sprayed me. And not just kinda in my vicinity. He literally sprayed into my open coat. Was he trying to tell me something?! My smell game is impeccable so I know I wasn’t offending people in whiff shot. I think it goes back to my innate friendliness and approach-ability. The cashier informed him that he had actually sprayed me with the women’s scent. The Spray Sniper proceeded to spray me again with the Men’s scent. I was too interested in the proceedings to stop him. I wanted to see just how far he would take it. Was this guy just completely unaware of social boundaries or was it something about me that empowered him? Would he have sprayed Mac 10 if he was standing in line behind him?

The guy behind me in line seemed more put out than I was. His face formed into the shape of disbelief with a hint of happiness that he did not get sprayed. As oddly unlucky I was to get sprayed the sprayer was equally lucky that he sprayed me and not someone with no fondess for eccentricity.

Maybe this is why I like Bayswater. Maybe I’m one of Bayswater’s own and with that comes random unannounced cologne spraying. I’m smelling what ya cooking Bayswater.

QSN: Quick Side Note

When I think of things that are useless, hotel turn down service is near the top of the list.  So someone comes to your room and basically starts the comforter move for you but only slightly in one corner.  Does anyone have this service at home?  Is anyone so rich or so pampered that they need someone to put a crease in their comforter at night?

Maybe these same people pay someone to open potato chip bags for them or rub their eyes in the morning.

Hey fancy hotel:  If you want to check my mini bar, just ask.  Don’t enter my room under the guise of performing the most meaningless and borderline insulting task you can think of.  If you must come in, how about you loosen the nazi comforter tuck at the bottom of the bed.  Muay Thai champion kick boxers can’t kick those comforters loose.

Just give me free wifi and plenty of tea and I’ll put the do not disturb sign out.  So the bed never gets made.  Can’t turn down a mess.  Are we still talking about beds or my dating life?