The Dirk Diggler Story

Jarky · Jul 21, 2004

Where have all the shows gone?

"Cause you can look right through me/Talk right to me/And never know I'm there!"
- Chicago, Mister Cellophane

Scott just told me that we are going to have to cancel our show yet again this week due to construction on the theater. I'm resisting the urge to go yell at the people. Two weeks hiatus has turned into a month of celibacy from improv. What gives? Summer sucks for audiences so I guess it's good that we're not losing money, but at the same time I want to perform.

I have been cheating from my celibate state, though. Sneaking in a class with Jesse every Tuesday has been great. If anything, it brings together people I enjoy seeing and working with. For two hours, in sweltering heat, we create some great stuff in a safe, open environment. Last week I had the pleasure of playing a guy who everyone thought was gay, but insisted he was bisexual, sharply saying, "I have all the cool stuff of a homosexual man, but I like chicks sometimes." I could hear Scott and Jen saying how that should go in a book somewhere. I'll admit, comments like that are fantastic. It's herbal essence on my unscripted scaple. Yes! YES! Don't stop! If anything it tells me I'm growing as an improviser. Finally, I'm coming up with the lines and characters I coveted so much in the past from improvisers I admired. At coffee break last night Jesse psuedo-cried like a father, claiming I was growing up so fast and finally reaching down into the dark side of myself to make something funny. This was because I started a miny scene with Scott and Jen -- off the suggestion "Street" -- by saying, "Coat hangers five dollars; opertation ten dollars!"

And I used to be such a nice guy. Innocent and sheltered. Where did that sweet child go? :angel:

I did screw up last night. I made an elementary mistake that I should have seen way ahead of time, but instead totally messed up the brilliance Jen brought to the organic Harold. I stepped in to ruin Jamiee's monologue after Nicole and Jen had stepped into another performance space to act out the monologue. I thought it was the final scene beginning; I jumped the gun way to fast. It didn't mess the entire thing up -- gave it a twist, but I should have stayed out and realized what I was doing. I was a step behind in the connection department as well. Luckily I was able to tie a couple things up with a half monlogue/half scene. One of the best moments of the night was when Scott was doing an exercise by himself for about five minutes. I jumped in, artificially made a TV screen, and became a white Billy Blanks incarnate (I'm just hittin' everything un-PC these days: sexual orientation, race, abortion, etc.) It was great because I got to have all the dialogue and Scott got to react off it in a very funny way. I guess last night's class was good for two reasons:

1) It proves I can still do great stuff even when I'm not feeling %100 up-to-scruff. I hadn't slept in close to forty-eight hours at that point.

2) I can still make mistakes that should and need to be called out. Sure, receiving off-stage comments is great, but I'm a firm believer that being put on the spot for making a mistake is the best way to learn. Or a better way to say it, is calling the mistake to my attention immediately instead of letting it simmer.

Number two is rough. I'll stick by it however because I know by now that the harshest critic is myself and no one else is going to give me a good review. Jen and I had a talk about being the strong person all the time -- bareing the weight of an iron shield so that others are allowed to cry, be pissed off, or sulk. It's tough to do it in everyday life and then when it comes into play on stage it goes beyond uncomfortable to embarrassing. Now, I also understand having a thick skin to bounce things back and not let them soak in. However, it leaves me wondering where the line between clowning around and punching bag is drawn. I thought it was a great choice to have John C. Reilly sing "Mister Cellopane" in the movie Chicago. Not only is he a great actor, but a much under appriciated one. Of all the movies he's been in, there's only one that comes to mind where his character doesn't have to carry the world's problems and sorrow on his back and that is Boogie Nights (Hey, look! A Dirk Diggler reference. There hasn't been one of those in a long time and yet the journal has the same name. Good call back. Yeah...) The Good Girl doesn't count because he was stoned 4/5's of the time. You get the idea though. I think some people in improv have to take the shit of others so that a easy laugh comes through at there expense.

Still I ask, where do you draw the line?

I see people -- not improvisers -- who constantly spread their feelings out on their friends, co-workers, and family like butter on a roll. One of my managers came into work today even though it was her day off. She barges in with her boyfriend, red in the face, and puddles accumulating in around her eye sockets. She tries to laugh as I open the door for her, but then bolts right to the counter for a drink. Now, this young women has a lot of things going for her: a great job, a good looking boyfriend, nice house, lots of friends, and very cute. I can be sympathetic to people's problems, because, hey, let's face it, we all got them. And a problem at work is very understandable. But coming in, to vent your problems in the middle of a work day and have everyone crowd around you is just begging for attention. (Once again I ask where that sweet kid went not so long ago.) Where are the people cooing in my close proximity radius when I have a bad show? Where is the entourage of Yes Men when I get in trouble with the school's administration?

But then again, aren't I just bitching to you as you and everyone else on the IRC reads it? Aren't you just feeding my desperate, whiney need for attention? And ask yourself this: do you care? I don't know. I don't know if you should care, to be honest, but kudos to you if you do. Maybe I'm just being mean, digging too deep into my dark side for something gratifying, if not slightly funny. Well, with all this time not performing I can go over and over this again in my head. Great...just what I wanted to do.

Jarky · Jul 30, 2004

All Time, Top 5 Scenes

"I've discovered that I always have choices and sometimes it's just a choice of attitude."
- Judith Knowleton

Okay, so right now pretty much everyone is in New York City for the Del Close Marathon. What gives? I'm the one who is supposed to be leaving Salt Lake for New York, not them...yeah, I'm not really that upset about it. Three more weeks and there I go. Three...weeks. God, how the time does fly. Lisa called me last night right before I went into work to inform me that the space is done with construction so if I wanted to schedule a show for tonight I could. We both decided against it -- what, with the minimal cast and even few audience that we could scrounge up in time I didn't want to do all that work for nothing. Next week, however, things will be right back on track.

I've enjoyed a little time off. It's like being in Los Angeles again for the whole month of July except I have a car, know my way around, and not quite as much happens. But there's good stuff in between there. Hell, great stuff. Going to Jesse's class every week gives me a challenge. I don't think the past few weeks I've been on top of my game, which, yeah, sucks, but it makes me push to get better. And that's a lot better than the alternative of having no slump, no improv, no challenge at all to hone my skills on. I'm glad I'm able to control my feelings about improv now rather than be a loose cannon on myself. Nicole, who did a great scene with Joe Diganero (sorry I can't spell your name Joe) last Tuesday where she played a hooker, a Joe's daughter, and a cop. Absolutely funny and unexpected, not to mention nice to see Nicole hitting a stride that she didn't get caught up in the moment. After class, she came up to me and said I did a great job in class, one of the best she's seen. I have to laugh because I didn't think I made any leaps last time. I didn't fall, but nothing really that great came out of me. So, while I'm on even ground I decide to recall my top five favorite scenes I've done in Utah before I move on to that big Del Close Marathon in the sky...or just New York.

So, get on your John Cusack treads and let's go:

5) Moby and Eminem as roommates (with Ryan) Gaggy? You bet your ass it was. During a game of "Revolver", the suggestion we got was Moby and Eminem -- Ryan, of course, taking the role of the former, and I the latter. The time we got to perform was relatively short because we'd hit button's just like that, so there was no time to create a long, linear scene. My favorite exchange...well, the one I can remember the best was:

Me: Organize my CD collection, bitch, before I make you walk an eight mile.
Ry: Let me organize them in a non-denominational order.

Yeah, we played a gaggy scene of short form, but it still sticks in my head to this day.

4) Musical improv cheating scene (with Lisa) This one was very recent, from Ben's musical class he taught about a month ago. Now, as it's been mentioned before, I'm not one for musicals. I can't sing. I don't have rhythem, but I'm trying every chance I get to learn musical improv because I've had fun with it before. This scene took place in a classroom where Lisa and I were students taking a test. It could have gone south very fast with someone not letting the other person cheat, but it turned out beautiful because we wanted to help each other cheat. The music played, off the cuff choreography sprang up out of us, and two classic Cole Porter characters sang their love for one another behind the back of their drunken teacher.

3) One Ups-manship (with Ben) It's amazing when you realize that you've not only gone past a personal limit, but one that people see for you as well. No one ever expected me to get into a sexual position on my own account. No one expected that when Ben and I got up for an exercise of raising the stakes that it would escalate from flipping each other off to full-blown crude pantomime. No one could believe it when I sucked Ben's pantomined penis and neither could I. If that's not pushing boundaries I don't know what is.

2) The Pepsi Challenge (with Scott) This was my first really, really solid scene. It happened while I was still taking workshops through KYSOff. One Saturday Scott and I, not really knowing each other that well at this point, got up on stage together and made one of the best scenes I can remember. It started off with me confessing to him, my dad, that I had lost the Pepsi challenge. This was very "nish-nish" because my dad was a big C.E.O. for Pepsi hoping for me to follow in his footsteps. I disgraced him furthur by being addicted to Coke products and going to marry into the Mr. Pibb family at the end of the scene. That scene is almost three years old yet it seems so clear in my mind.

And now, the big one...

1) Gangsta Heaven (with Logan) With Logan....Logan Rogan! Of all people, I've had my very best scene with Logan Rogan. A guy who didn't really enjoy talking to me. A man who had little more than a shrug to answer me when I asked how he was doing! LOGAN, people! But in the end, I have to give him credit for sticking to his guns with the scene. It was during a Blind Harold that we did a scene about Saint Peter trying to make some street thug good so he could fill his quota for letting people into Heaven. Here's my favorite exchange:

Logan: Okay, okay. Have you done anything good in your life for another person.
Me: Well, yeah, man. Now that you mention it, yeah, I have. I have. Uh...I got my baby girl a bunny rabbit one time. Yeah, a little stuffed bunny rabbit. It was really cute. I remember going out and getting it for her. (Pause) Shit, man, that was the longst hold-up I've ever been in and let me tell you there's some armed robberies that seem like they take forever...

Somewhere out there, an audio tape exists with us on it doing that scene. I wish I could get a hold of it, but at least I've got it in my head and now in my journal.

There's a lot of good scenes out there that I've done. Some with Jady, some with Austin. A couple with Troy, some with Joe Beatty, Larry, Luke, and Emily. But when it comes down to it, these are the ones that will forever be in my heart. The odd thing is that only two out the five ever happened in front of an audience. Most where during rehearsals or workshops -- very few happened in front of people. Not that there weren't a lot of those, but I think it's easier to perform when you have those that you love around you for support. That's a nice fantasy to have, huh? Every show, from now on, is just going to be full of people who love you. Aww...

Keep dreaming.

Okay, I will.

Jarky · Aug 10, 2004

The Improv Cult

"let them go-the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers-you must let them go they
were born
to go"

- e.e. cummings

A while back, I said I was wanting to be the one to leave people here. Sick and tired of waving good-bye from my standard location, I made a small vow to be the next one to leave. I can tell already it's going to be harder than I thought. I hope I'm not a truthful liar or flase fair friend to anyone here. That's what scares me: that I've hurt someone and they'll see me moving to New York as an escape route. I've tried to do the best I can...but if anyone still has qualms with me, you heard it here and now, that I'll be ready to settle them however you like.

Ooohh, that actually sounded kind of tough.

The past week has been great. I wish it hadn't. I wish I could depart in relief from the people I love. Keep my mind out of management details with Off The Wall. I just know that my first full day in New York I'm going to be feeling sick that I'm late for the OTW show that night. I have no need to worry, though. Scott and Lisa have managed to not only find ways of pulling people in to our shows at the Center, but getting a slot at the Tavernacle. Mixed Company is gone (or so I hear) and now that slot is open for us. Advertising is all covered and two locations. I couldn't have hoped for better before I left. I'm so proud of Scott for having the balls to make that decision. He and Lisa are going to excel with the troupe.

Our performance last Friday wasn't the best, small audience, but yet no one walked away unhappy. JoKyR and Jesster started off solid, if not a little loud, but had a great scene about "going into the middle of two chairs" as if it was something naughty. OH!

op: The cast for the home team was fantastic too. Scotty, in full form coming back from the DCM. Lisa, with here amazing call backs and the best line of the night, "Look at my tattoo -- it says Randal Joseph...bitch." Heather, with her uncanny timing and ability to surprise everyone. And the lovely Jen, who's ticked off girl characters and hilarious walk-ons are always a joy to see. Not to mention, it's good to have Julia back on sound. She's really getting the hang of it and I can tell it's something she enjoys doing. I'm glad that she gets something out of it, not just doing it to humor me, y'know? Fun, fun that continued to Dee's. Our favorite Dee's that's closing like so many of the other ones after this week. They couldn't have delayed it after my last show, no! They had to do it the week before. Such a shame, but a good reason to hang out this week.

Jake P. says that he can get some people interested in an away show to come see us. I hope so. Improv is a cult that more people need to join in different ways: performer, student, audience member. It's weird how all three of those positions in improv are set on find the perfect way to create real situation comedy on stage, almost like trying to attain god. People fall away from the church; the clergy gets lazy; followers stop caring -- it can all happen and has before. But with the summer coming to a close, I believe that more people will start turning to the Church of Off The Wall for the holy humor. Let's hope. I'm saying this now because I realize that for a little while I'm going to have to put improv on the side. I don't want to, but I can't be full blown, hard core my first month or so getting situated in school. Then again, you never know what opportunities you'll find.

Let's hope I find the spirit sooner than I think.

Hallelujah!!!

Jarky · Aug 17, 2004

Goals

"Cause when it's over; through; done with they'll never be able to say that you lied about jack shit."
- Jay-Z

Do you think this man's retirement will last? I do. Cher's I knew wouldn't, but Mr. Shawn Carter went out on a high note. He surveyed the crowd, laid out some of his finest tracks, and took a bow. His job now is to work behind the scenes of bringing new artists up. He still has his power; his voice; and his life. And that's where Cher fell short of her last three attempts at retirement -- nothing to say bon vogage as she departed to the home in Boca Raton. So what does she do? Another "final concert of Cher" tour. Another CD nobody buys. Guest appearance on "Will and Grace". Most people are sick of Cher. Hey, a lot of people are sick of Jay-Z, too, but at least he won't have the backlash of trying to get attention as he fades to black. That's because he attained his goal and now is focusing on new ones.

Maybe they'll both come out of retirment with the duo, "I Shot You, Babe" MUW-aaaaahhhhhhh! Oh, crazy-wacky-make'um-ups!!! Aren't they the best. But seriously, folks...

I'm heading toward my final show this Friday. It's scary because a week from then I know I'll be in New York, starting a brand new chapter of life, but still wondering how the show is going thousands of miles away. Not wondering so much as wishing I could be there. I'm not worried. Last week maid me realize that all the work I did -- what I set up with Off The Wall SLC -- has paid off. Ten-fold and more. The house was only filled with about 11-13 people, but that's a generous crowd with us. The Astro-Pops, the new team a la female total started us off. Lisa and Linden both put in valient efforts, but it was Heather who really propelled their set into being something more. She didn't stop playing to her intellegence once, nor did she ever suck the energy out of a scene she was in. Totally cool. Props to the Astro-Pops.

As Ali-G would say, "Reprs'nt."

Our backstage, well, what we normally use for a backstage area, was full of junk. Therefore we decided to have backstage outside, behind the theater. That was actually a nice change of pace. Sitting around a circle of friends, chatting about old "Beavis and Butthead" episodes and what really happened in the story of Noah and the ark. I was the only male improviser the entire night because Scott was managing. Five ladies! :loopy: Jen asked during one of the conversations about breasts if I thought it was strange that women sat around talking about them. I concluded no, not that odd, because that's all guys do when they get together. After doing the show as the only man, I can understand how women who are the sole female on stange amongst an entourage of 11-year-old men can feel alone, somewhat ostricized. I can relate now...only in a completely opposite way. My experience was great. It was so nice to play with Jady and Heather, since I rarely get the opportunity to do so. Jady really has matured as an improviser in Chicago and yet still carries that same flare she always has. Me, her, and Lisa had a great scene about couples therapy that turned into a whole out war -- sweet. And Jen and I got to do a scene!!! Three scenes with the same characters and great call backs. I was a prisoner to her studio executive character. I refused to give her my ideas until she would start torturing me. HA-ha! Yeah, good stuff all around. Julia felt left out because the Center didn't leave us their sound equipment so she didn't really have anything to do.

The rest of the night followed the normal routine. Freaky Dee's, Scott's house afterwards, and late-night discussions. I'd get into that, but you already know what I'm going to say. How many times can I explain the crazy things said around the Dee's late night dinner table? Honestly. Let's just say that all this reflection leaves a warm, fuzzy feeling inside me. I did it. No more to it than that. I came, I saw, I worked, and I got the rewards. I got exactly what I wanted: a troupe become more tight-knit with regular shows full of creative, challenging, funny long-form every weekend. I contributed to it -- indulged the risk -- only to walk away smiling. If I was better at free verse, I'd try to rap for you...but as aforementioned, you already know how that's going to turn out.

uke:

Jarky · Aug 23, 2004

Bowing Out

"I had the time of my life/Everything was right/With you."
- Macy Gray

What a way to go. Nothing like I envisioned, but everything I had hoped for. You know things are going to be okay by the way someone says good-bye to you. My final show, things just came together so beautifully that it didn't even feel like a departure without return. It felt like the cracking of a champagne bottle against a huge oceanliner destined to return, but not lacking a vast journey ahead of it. I'm constantly impressed by the people around me. Never taking them for granted, I sure don't look back on them as people who never accomplished anything beyond themselves. This goes without saying, but I'm really going to miss it this week. I'll be in the city I love, getting ready to start doing what I love, and all I'll probably be thinking about is how the Off The Wall show is going (technically, it's no longer going to be Off The Wall, but 3.2 Improv: Improv at its fully potentcy.)

Let's recap a great last show, shall we?

It started off looking not so great. The theater, as always, was a mess when we arrived. Stuff falls down, as it did on Jady (she's okay), and other things get very mis-placed. Luckily, I had contacted someone earlier during the week about the sound system. They told me it was stolen, so I put Julia in charge of getting us one, which she came through with flying colors. Now, the other thing we always have difficultly with is lights -- one of the posts had been removed, leaving us without a place to station our lights. Matt came through though with a great way of doing it, however, so all that was taken care of pretty early in the evening (if I haven't said it before, Matt and Lisa are my favorite couple; Matt is an honorary member of our troupe because of all his support for not only Lisa, but everyone else.) My only regret of the night was that Lisa couldn't play, due to illness, and neither could Joe Beatty because he was in Seattle. Lisa was a trouper, though, sticking it out to be manager for the night.

Scott and I had practiced earlier in the week doing HomeBrew. We had a great practice, with coaching from Heather, but we hadn't decided on our form by the time the show started. Scott was not feeling the "HomeBrew News" style, so we went with a two man Harold while opening with a mini-cats cradle. I have to say it went really well, even if one of our beats resembled (thematically at least) one that we had practiced in rehearsal. Nonetheless, a great set with some great moments. I felt like improv because you didn't feel anything until it came out, almost like falling -- your so disconnected from it until you hit a protruding branch or jutting out rock and in the end: the ground. HomeBrew probably has been one of my favorite ventures in improv. When Scott and I get on stage -- if we are fully confident -- the most fluid scene work comes out. I like that. Friday night was no exception.

We took our break, took pictures, and took the time to warm up with a rapid (more than usual) game of "Checkoslovakia". From there we went into the theater for my final long form in Utah. We choose a montage, hey why not?, and started with "Trix" as the suggestion. Jady and I had a great scene about being in a haunted house and cooking our child (two separate scenes, yet both SCARY :nervous: ) Heather and I had a funny scene about making faces when we barf, but that knowing those faces was true love. I'm so happy that Jen, Jady, Scott, and Heather were so enthusiastic about playing that night. Even though I know some of them must of been tired, had a hard week, or a number of other things to drain the energy, it didn't wavier for a second. All of them are great friends for sending me off floating.

Oh, but the Tom-Foolery was not over.

After saying good-bye to the crowd (Dan and Cami came, which was totally unexpected, as did my boss and old baby sitter, Debra) Scott and Jen got in a fight. Earlier in the day, Jen had asked if I just wanted a Jarky/Jen night after the show. It seemed a little stranger because it was my last show and I knew people would probably want to do something afterwards. Still, Jen has a lot of sway over me so I accept her offer. Once everything was packed up she and Scott got into a big fight about going to Dee's. I said maybe we should just go for an hour or so and then continue with our night away from the group. Jen didn't budge and Scott left in a huff without his wallet. We went to a park for Jen to cool down and not be so upset, but who should call again, but Scott. Another arguement and we were bound for Scott's house, looking like this was going to turn into a not-so-great night after all. We pulled up to the cottage where Scott was drinking by himself out front, looking very poutty. He lead Jen and I around to the backyard, opened his door, and...do I even need to say it?...SURPRISE: It's your going away party Jarky!!!

AAAWWWW!! Thanks you guys. That's so sweet.

And it really was. Lisa, Matt, Linden, Nikki (Linden's friend), Heather, Julia, Kevin, Scott, and Jen were all there. They had expected more people, but having them around was plenty, I assure you. From there we had a lovely party complete with Mike's Hard Lemonade, talking around a dimly lit table, and eating cake with Stars of David and frowny faces on it. Like I said, I couldn't have asked for a better send off than what my friends gave me. You guys are really terrific (not to mention great actors because I didn't suspect a thing at the time). You've given this boy something to make him look back as he heads for the east coast.

Thanks for that.

Jarky · Sep 3, 2004

The Bush in my Backyard

"Writing is the thing you do so that you don't have to thing about the things you'd rather not think of."
- David Mamet

One philosophy I'd like to really prescribe to my life always seems to be evading me: don't wish your life would speed up. Savor how much you have and how great it sits in your mouth. I truly believe in this, but making it stick is somewhat of a harder thing to do. I wish I could be more existentialistic instead of epicurist. Maybe one day I will. And one day will turn into a week, then a year, and so on until it is my life. On that day (make it soon) I hope I will be able to live my life in the moment. Possibly the moment of improv, but preferably not on stage.

Okay, so I'm a little sad at the moment. Leaving Salt Lake was harder than I had originally envisioned. But...I am in New York, a place where great things happen to people who are willing to invest a little bit of time. Right now, time is about all I got.

Welcome, Jarky, to your new home on University Place, adjacent to Washington Square Park. The subway out to Brooklyn is a quick walk to West 4th Street and 6th Avenue. The East Village buzzes with a hum of people on the move while the West Village allows of a more relaxed mood with just as much character. If you want to be frugal, take Layfette past Housten, from NoHo to SoHo, over to Mulberry Street where you will enter Little Italy. From there, if you wish to jump continents cross the street into Chinatown. Your days will mostly be spent on Broadway -- the street of course at the Tisch Building. But not yet. No, right now you must indure the Welcome Week here at New York University. So, without furthur adue, welcome:

I've never been good with social situations where the main reason for meeting people is that you happen to be in the same general vicinity at the same time. Being huddled into the basketball gym on a cold February morning in high school to practice freshman pride got me a week of detention because I took the cheerleader's offer seriously when she said, "If you guys don't want to be here you can just leave." At least I got some quality reading time. Now, in college, I must endure of the same things. My first loft party was nuts. A terrible DJ launched awful dance songs out amongst the atmospheric, school-colored lights, and over the heads of people more easily pleased than myself while they tried to give the waiters their empty drink glasses. I'm sounding very pungent at the moment, forgive me, but also humor me. No one has in a while so it would be nice. I don't mean to give off a sour tone -- adjusting is just difficult. Especially when you don't have New Jersy as your home state to fall back on in conversation. Social mixers like that are tough for me.

Take a look at the flip side, aka yesterday, and you get a whole new perspective. I met all of my professors in the dramatic writing programs. What characters! Too bad I can't really use them since they're not persuaded by flattery. All of them sent chills up my spine when they spoke about writting, about the city, and about what they have in store for us. In some ways, that's part of the problem. I know what's going to happen next week and I can't wait! That's when I'll see people's talents! That's when I'll be able to really showcase who I am instead of reciting constantly my name, major, and hometown to some blurry stranger who's forgotten it quicker than I did their's. That's one of the things I've come to realize what I like so much about improv classes -- a bunch of strangers getting to know each other by gradually, over time, displaying their inner spirit. Not much else can top that (this will be pretty close, although let's not put the cart before the horse, okay?).

Oh, on a side note, why is it when I leave people start coming back to Utah and others join improv. Lauren Bradley, an old, old girlfriend (we broke up right before I started attending KYSOff rehearsals, but have stayed friends) starts showing up to Jesse's class this past week and is now on Femme Fest. Now I'm upset I can't be there to see it! Not to mention loads of other people like Luke and my friend Ethan have all decided that once the coast was clear of Jarky they'd come home. Jeez, I guess my timing is just off with friends and the improv people.

Speaking of improv, I think I've found a troupe. Not everyone is back on campus yet and their e-mail didn't work, but I'm hoping to meet the artistic directors of Vorp'm Improv (apologies to all my Resivorpmi Dogs for them stealing your idea...or vice-versa...I'm not sure) in about a week or so. I can't believe that how long it's been since I left. It feels longer. Argh!! Those classes better start or I'm going to drive myself as crazy as the guy who stands outside our building yelling until he's hoarse...

...Or the guy who put a wine cooler in his pants insisting it was an erection...

...Or the guy butching Jim Morrison on the subway coming back from Brooklyn...

...Or the guy wearing a "FUCK THE POLICE" t-shirt waving at two cops during a protest last Sunday...

...Or the guy in a clean suit, with bad grammar, and better not get re-elected for a 2nd term who spoke last night at Madison Square Garden. Maybe Bush in my backyard has acted like Round-Up, killing everything around it. Well, he's leaving tonight and better not come back. I think I'll be a lot happier that way. I'm keeping my fingers crossed as always.

Jarky · Sep 7, 2004

New York Improv for $0.11

"There is treasure everywhere."
- Bill Watterson, title of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes collection

New York City is a treasure chest for an improviser, not to mention a writer like myself. I'm going to take the risk on jumping the gun with the title 'writer' because it helps me (and I understand to all those who chuckle to themselves at me designating myself as such with so little works under my belt. That's to be expected.). This is my first day being 19 years old, as well as my first real time feeling like a linking member of this city. No longer do I really feel like a transplate cell grafted on to the skin of New York so much that I draw attention. I feel intigrated, assimilated, and any other applicable-ated that you care to think of. I'm out.

Yesterday, my aunt and uncle from Brooklyn came out to take me around the island for my birthday. Labor Day and Monday combinded to make a pretty barrier Manhattan store/museum/restaurant front. Changing our plans we decided to walk around the arts festival which seemed just to pop up over night without warning. Like all art festivals, it's a mixture of amatuer paint-by-numbers and beatiful mosaics of city life. Awesome stuff. Next, we decided to move over to the meat-packing industry where we found the infamous bar: Hogs and Heifers. Now, as legend would have it, this biker bar is famous for having women come in, get a drink, and leave their bra as a token of good will. Folks, the legend is true. Walking in you see a bunch of Jersey bike hounds leeching around a 9/11 Police Memorial and signs reading: "Bloomberg is a Bitch" and "No Assholes Allowed", but the bra memorial really takes the cake. It's almost too much, like cow carcasses hanging from meat hooks in a butcher shop. Oh my god, it was great.

More stuff just keeps coming up out of the blue here. Today was the first day of classes and, believe it or not, I have no classes on Tuesday. I decided to finish my book about the Manhattan waterfront development and history projects in a local coffee shop when a fire broke out. Everyone got out okay -- just an odd scene since a block away at the Student Union was another fire truck and ambulence attending to someone there. I journeyed into the park, wandering over to the west side (which typically is not the best part of the park). I finished my book in peace and the second...I kid you not, the absolute second I finished the last sentence of the book, someone finds his way over to me.

Keith, a short, worn-down black man with crooked teeth and an Whiskey laced breath calls out what book I'm reading. I tell him and even let him examine the cover. He's really not interested in that: he's got a performance to work on me. I give him two minutes to capture me, which I have to admit, he did. This, as best as I can remember it, is his one-man Armando...

KEITH: Hey, man...hey man, yeah, yeah. I knew a writer, once. Well...he's like a writer, but he ain't written' shit, ya dig? I mean...he IS a writer, but man...he just ain't written' nothin'. And I tol's him, man, just write it out. Put that shit on sum paper, y'know wha I'm sayin'? He just don't...he just ain't in it. His hart don't find it's way there to the place, y'know. I'm just tired of him sayin', 'Yeah yeah yeah, I'm a writer...' I'm like, 'Man you don't write shit. Nuthin' come outtcha' mufuckin'ass. So he says, 'Keef, yous a funny guy. Why ain't you written shit? You funny. You makin' people laugh all the time...' I'm like, 'Nah, that ain't for me.' And he laughs, goin' on like, 'Yeah, see, dare it is. Dare it is! You makin' me laugh right now!' So Is thinkin', sure, maybe I got something. So one day, I decide to go over into the fountain, y'know.
MOTIONS TO THE FOUNTAIN IN THE MIDDLE OF WASHINGTON SQUARE PARK
And I'm jus like, man, whatever comes to your head, jus say it. If ita come to your mind...or ya brain...just...uh, let it come out troo yur mouth. And I did. I did that, mafuckin' shit I ain't never been thinkin'bout just starts spittin' from my lips. People's shit was crackin' up!!! I wus gud. I wus real gud. But that ain't for me. I know what's my friend...the writer...I know what's goin' on in his head. It ain't right, like should be. Next week, thems people pectin' a show...and...an they see me...their all like, 'Hey, Keef, ain't you gonna be funny taday?' And I'm all, 'Nah, man, nah. Man, that was my twin, y'know what I'm sayin' and shit? That wadn't me out there.
LAUGHS AT HIMSELF
See, see...see, I always bin afraid. Y'know, stage...fright. I mean, when ya up dare fur graduation. High school graduation. When I was up dare, I tried to get my diploma, but I got so mafuckin' nervous. At all dem people watchin' me grab a piece'a paper. You got ya mom...and ya dad...and ya brotha and sista. Aunts, uncles, cousins. I reach it the paper and I take it and I run. Cuz I'm nervous. An I run...When I get home, my mom was like, 'Keef, why you so nervous?' And I told her about all dem people lookin' at me...all dat a-a-attention jus to get piece a paper. I couldn't do it, ma. I told her I jus couldn't do it. She say, 'Honey, I'm gonna put sumin' in yur pocket. You go to the town, kay?' And I reach in my pocket.
MIMICS TAKING OUT MONEY FROM HIS POCKET
A-HELL YA! HELL-MAFUCKIN' YA! I took my ma's advice an I went to the town. Come back a week later, ma and pa look out the window and dey see me and this girl. This girl is gorgeous. I mean, she gots a nice pair and doze legs...ooh, my lordy...that girl had some legs. Like a carmel silk. So fine, damn, so fine. But I introduce her to my parents...an...an my dad pulz me aside. He's like, 'Who da squeeze?' An I know he talkin'bout da girl. I said, 'Man, git da fuck outta here!' An he's like, 'Who da squeeze?' Y'know, da girl I'm with. 'Who da squeeze?' And I told him, 'Man, git da fuck outta here with that.' Then...then he goes, 'Hey, da Squeeze, she got any sisters?' GET DA FUCK OUTTA HERE! How can he do dat? Right by my ma. Dat's supposed to be his queen. My ma's iz queen, y'know. 'Who da squeeze?' Get da fuck outta my face with that. 'She got any sisters?' 'Yeah, she got three sisters! Which wun ya want?' And he's like, 'All a dem!' SHIT, man! Dats cold. 'Who da squeeze?' And, 'She got any sisters...?' My dad, me an him got some shit between us, but lotsa gud shit too. Like, we smoke reefa tugether. And we listen to sum tunes. When he ax me, 'Wur ya livin'?' I'm like, 'New York' He say, 'Where in New York' I say, 'Manhattan' and he say, 'Show me' I'm like goddamnit! Shit! Aright, dats fine. You come around ta da island and I'll meet you at Penn Staton. Frum dare, we goin' ta take a subway ta Avenue B and East 2nd Street. He thought it was gonna be a dump, but it whadint. It was nice. And it was, man, it seriously was. Nice and shit. So dey come, I kick up da tunes. My mom's like 'Turn dat bullshit' down. So she goes ta lie down on da bed and I go into the bathroom to smoke some reefa and when I come back my dad is like, 'Kick that shit up again!' So I turn up da music and he starts dancin'. An I didn't know he could dance! I'm all, 'Pa, you can dance.' And he was all, "Be ya ass, man, ya bet ya ass!'

I tell him I have to go. He wants to know if I have any money. Keith has to get himself a beer. I have 11 cents which I hand over. I've paid much more for worse. And for a little treasure like that, it's worth the time and dime-penny combination.

Jarky · Sep 21, 2004

American Idiot Debut

"Ever since my sign from god, I've had reason to believe there's something after this, but I'm in no rush to find out what it is. I love life."
- Peter Farrelly, The Comedy Writer

It's a weird spot to be in between having what you want and not having what you need. Or maybe it's the other way around. I have to say that right now I'm experiencing some very life changing events. New York moves, man, does it move. Every night brings on a new restaurant. Club after club advertises for you to join the crowd -- I went by the CBGB, the place where the Ramones started up; it was pretty cool. Movies I've never even heard of have hoards of people waiting to line up. And school really is a blast. I mean that...through all the work and reading and balancing acts I've found a system of teaching that really gets to me. Okay, let's not jinx it: starting to get through to me. Challenging and motivating, just what I was looking for.

Then there's the other side of the coin. I'm surrounded by talented people and suddenly I'm faced with the challenge of finding my voice once again. Last night I performed a self-written monologue for my performance colloquim. It went well, but a few people after me had the same idea on their minds. Now I'm faced with the question of how do I get myself noticed out there amongst the masses? It's tough. I know I'm rushing things...after all, it has only been three weeks since school started. Who knows what could happen today, tomorrow, next week, month. I keep waiting for the next thing, but with that I'm savoring what's on my plate right now.

One of my outlets has been temporarily put on hold. You guess, improv.

A week ago I auditioned for Dangerbox Improv thinking that maybe 15-25 people might attend. A nice set to be put up against. Wrong. There was more like 50-60 people at the audition, all of whom were trying to work there stuff to the fullest. I was glad when the broke us into three groups to have a more personal look at us, but that's still really difficult when all you're doing is playing A-to-C and then an hour and a half of "Freeze Tag". Granted, I know they were trying to weed out those few they were hoping to have at the audition. I felt lucky to have made it to the second round, which probably wouldn't have happened had I forgotten what my good buddy Austin said once. Thanks, man. I owe you big time. In the second round, "Freeze Tag" was still the name of the game. It's tough to create character when all you have are three line scenes, let alone a relationship with the person on stage. It's no one's fault, circumstances are what they are. Just tough, that's all. After the directors went to discuss I could feel that I had not made the cut. Well, I did get cut, but that was from the third round. Shit...okay, this stuff happens. Yeah, I look for you guys at the club. Best of luck everyone. Keep the urge from kicking yourself to a minimum, Jarky.

On the way back to my dorm I was talking with another guy, a junior, who had been rejected for his third time from the troupe. Whoa, there's a guy who really wants it. I told him my experience with improv in Utah, from KYSOff to OTW SLC. He said he was interested in starting his own long form troupe on campus. Sure, I'm interested...yet at the same time I don't want to try and manage another troupe. I love OTW SLC, now 3.2 Improv (check out the new press photo on the website, just add dot com to the name), but it's a hellava lot of work. I wouldn't have the time nor resources at this point to try and get something on it's feet. If he can do it, I'll support him all the way. That's what I'm holding out for at the moment.

Another thing that's missing are those great people from home. I'm having all of these great experiences (for the most part) and sometimes there is no one around to share in the glory. I'm meeting people, which is good, it's just "Freeze Tag" a lot of the time. Single serving friends, as Edward Norton would say. You meet them, have a enough time to say your name, where you are from, and what your major is. But sure enough there are some who acutally want to get to know you. My roommate is great. Some people from my department are growing more hospitable by the day. I need to remember to be willing to wait.

Hey, if a Farrelly brother has enough patience to write a book I'm sure that I can take things slowly. Green Day's new album comes out today. I'm going to make time to go to the big release thing they're holding today. Yom Kippur is on it's way -- a good time to cleanse myself of all my ancy impulses. And I've got a job to pay for books, food, and whatnot.

Jarky, things are good. Believe me. When you look back, you'll know they're better than you once thought they were. And they will get better. Now shut up and be happy.

Jarky · Oct 14, 2004

Roots in Manhattan

"I went to Second City, where you learned to make the other actors look good so you looked good, and National Lampoon, where you had to create everything out of nothing, and Saturday Night Live, wher eyou couldn't make any mistakes, and you learned what collaboration was."
- Bill Murray, from The Second City: Backstage at the World's Greatest Comedy Theater

Since the lack of journal entries one might guess that my involvment in improv has been quite low lately. Hell, take an slow point in your improv career and ask yourself if you really feel like you can bullshit a journal entry for the week, squeezing out every drop of on-the-spot juice just to cling to something. Well, I've done it before and get ready for it again.

October seems to be the time when improv takes a hiatus from me and goes on it's own vacation. This is the second year in a row with little to no improv action what so ever. Dry spells never seem to fully uproot ourselves. We, as improvisers and human beings, trudge onward. So, without furthur introduction:

Go back to Tuesday. Then go back a week from that day. That was supposed to be my day of salvation. Finally, a workshop held on campus that I could attend, not have to impress anyone or audition in the typical sense, just a lot of fun. Did I go? No. See, I have a class called Writing the Essay. You sit around, read essays, and then write essays in their style only you can't be creative like they are because...well, you just can't...there has to be something more. It's a stupid class and really puts a damper on the day, but alas, we must take it. So, our mid-term final draft is coming up and we needed to split into groups to meet with our professor to revise our work. That's fine. I love editors, just so long as my parents aren't one of them (then things get a little out of hand). But we couldn't meet at a normal time because the other three members of my group were dancers with rehearsal until eight at night...just the time the workshop was going to happen. I didn't want to bend. I shouldn't have. I did. Way to go with will power, Jarky! At least it got done. The biggest thing that irked me was that we started a half hour late and all that time I just kept thinking...I could be doing improv...I could be doing improv...I could be doing improv and tell them I had to leave early. At least get my name out there. Let'em know who I was. Never again, I say.

Last Friday I did go see Dangerbox Improv -- the group I auditioned for and who held the workshop -- at their free, opening show of the season. You know, it would have really pissed me off if I saw some people on stage who auditioned with me and were really terrible. But I didn't. That made me so incredibly proud (not like I have the right to be proud of them, but yeah! I was!) of those who did make it. Everyone was very funny, including this one guy who reminded me of Joe Beatty, even when he was playing the straight man in the scene. But two back to back long forms with a couple of short form games thrown in was just what I needed. And I wasn't the only one enjoying it -- the audience, which couldn't all find seats it was that crowded -- clapped after almost every scene. That is a rarity to find back home. You're lucky if you get a hardy applause when you end. But the New Yorkers stayed attentive, alter, and open to anything that came out of the actors mouths. My only problem was that I wasn't up there with them, but that is not for me to decide. Just talent envy and opportunity jealousy getting at me. It would have been worse had they not been any good, but each member contributed something unique and creative to Harold and Armando. They got my laugh, deservedly so.

I guess, like many of my friends, I thought once I moved out here I would be able to adapt to the improv community instantly, like many of my friends have...but only recently. Ryan just moved and has to start fresh again. Laine is slowly, but surely pushing forward and reading about her accomplishments always makes me so excited. Austin -- and if he's reading this right now needs to send me word about how he's doing -- can't be doing bad. He seems content in North Carolina again. The point is that no matter who we are, it comes in small steps. The first ones, KYSOff and Off The Wall were just so vast and big that it felt like they would go on forever. I realize I have to build again. That's not necessarily a bad thing; I get to be a newbie once more and have all new sorts of experiences (there is another workshop this coming Tuesday, I think, which I'm not missing for the world). How many times had I wished to go back to a simpler time in improv? Wish granted.

Monday night I went out with Dan, Colon, and Theresa, my dramatic writing buddies, to dinner in one of the dining halls. Theresa said that since the time she's been here she has been thinking about a light bulb joke for dramatic writers or playwrights or screenwriters or something for our department. Instantly I hear the announcement for Bunch of Blanks and I've got the joke:

How many dramatic writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Well, how many?

None. Reversal.

This is only funny if you've read The Poetics by Aristotle twice in the same month. But I hit my improv quota for the day, got the handshakes for my peers, and a smile on my face. That's step one in getting on my feet and establishing my roots on the island of Manhattan.

Jarky · Oct 20, 2004

Boston, New York, and Riot Police

"We can do it."
- The Producers

Only America's past time, in one of the main havens and factories for culture, aka New York City, would there be a rival between teams to such a degree that the NYPD had to come on the field in riot gear to protect the game. That's dedication. That's faith. That's awesome, if you ask me. I wish I was there, standing in the cold to cheer the Yankee's on. I'm not against Boston, I just would like to feel the tension from that side.

But I wasn't there. I was doing improv, which was actually a lot more satisfying.

Dangerbox had another club/workshop last night that made home feel a little closer. Many of the people weren't acquainted with improv or didn't have much experience, but that was okay. When you only have eight or nine people to play with you'll take whoever you can. The guys -- the two Bens and Jared -- were very open to explain things. I could tell some of them were tired, couldn't really afford to take time out to do a workshop that to many people was just a bathroom break between studying. But for those of us who consider it next to bathing in the course of life, thanks. I was getting mighty stinky...in the metaphorical sense of course.

All though, looking back on it, I wasn' that dirty or rusty. The first game we started off with was one called: Scrambled Cable (I think, but does it really matter?). I got up with this girl named Emma, who was very versed in improv or at least in theater. We got the suggestion of Waffle House and took it from there. I turned into a very geeky boyfriend who was treating her -- my girlfriend -- to ten silver dollar pancakes to signify our anniversary, something that didn't happen with all the girls. Emma took it and ran beautifully with "Yes, and...s" that were hidden in her subtext. It turned out really fun. One of the Ben's congradulated us on the fact that we honored the suggestion, but didn't turn it into a transaction scene that needed a lot of explaination.

The second scene that was unbelievably fun was Pieces of Paper, a game I normally am not a fan of playing...yet love to watch...it's it odd (people and gatherings is a whole different thing all together

). I was pair up with a girl -- I think her name was Nikki -- someone I recognized from the audition because she had a really vociferous character that got a lot of laughs. I hadn't seen her again until now. I assumed she got on the troupe even though I didn't see her in the show. She was brilliant and didn't let it slide as two science fair rivals faced off. Neither of us broke once -- I wish this would have happened during a Quick Wits or Off The Wall show because it would have been one to remember. Can't get everything you want, right? Lots of fun, a good workout, and now I'm sent away floating.

Perhaps starting off the week so well is not the best method. I'm going to try and ride the high into the weekend, but so much came all at once. My play Nosh was picked for the Undergraduate 10-Minute Play Festival, along with two of my friends/classmates. This was out of the entire undergraduate department at Tisch's Dramatic Writing department. I also got an e-mail the other day that I won two free movie tickets from a drawing in my dorm building. Completely random, but hey, anything free that has movie attached to it is never a bad thing in my eye. I've gotten some good response on a one-act I'm currently writing. Tilt comes in on Monday, Jen a week from Thursday. I feel happy and at home. Cheers to that.

If the Yankee's giving up three game to Boston, making them the only team in AL history to force a game seven after being down 3-0, well...then...I can deal. Riots and all. :cop:

Jarky · Nov 2, 2004

Hit the Polls and Hit'em Hard

"Vote or die!"
- P. Diddy and MTV and a hell of a lot of T-Shirts

Every single time I think I can take a break from the hectic chaos of life in the world, whether it be personal or global or whatever, I always get sucked into the cycle of activity that when I look back on it, makes me know I'm alive. I'm judging if that was run-on sentence. Probably, but whatever. Throw it into the mix and that's the least of what's happened in the past week.

About a week ago, Tilt from Off The Cuff came into town to apply for an internship with The Late Show with David Letterman. The first night should have given me a clue to the next few ensuing nights. I stayed up until 1:00 when Tilt arrived at my building's doorstep. We went around the corner to the Soup n' Burger cafe for a muffin (I don't eat burgers and I'm offended by soup). I had to be up the next morning fairly early, but once I returned from class Tilt and I headed up town to the Ed Sullivan theatre. I forget how cool mid-town is. I remember going to the Late Show a year ago and how much fun it was...well...except for Katie Holms have zero to nilch to say about her new movie. We had lunch in a corner store, then I wished him good luck and headed back to class. We met up later, got some food in the West Village, and went to Harold Night at the UCB. The first one we saw was great, I believe the group was called Trillion and there was a scene about a dead horse and the boy who loved him that blew me away. The next group, Rubin Williams, felt very sophmoric, like they were just getting on their feet. Despite this, they had a really great scene about urinating on a subway track. It was brilliant considering the material they were given. Maybe I had a skewed view because during the break I'd lost my cell phone, but upon retrieving it I lightened up. It was good to see some long form, not to mention the UCB theatre, again.

The next day, Tilt and I hung out most of the day and then parted ways in the evening. He informed me later that he did not get the job, which sucks because it would have been nice to have a fellow improviser from Utah to hang out with. Tilt is a great guy, improv or not, so it would be fun to have him in the city. I had one night to rest up until...

Jen came into town! After a long day of classes and work, it was so nice to see a familiar face that I love. She was genuinely excited to be here and see me, as was I to see her. We got her settled in, then we went downtown. While waiting for the subway we heard two people talking about being from Provo, Utah. Of all the places, and with a friend from Utah with me, what are the chances that Provo folks would be right behind us? We just let them talk. It would be too much to talk and spoil the mood. Jen and I headed down and I took her out on the Brooklyn Bridge to get a better view of the city. Very nice, very nice indeed. The next day I went to my class and later that night we went to see Chicago on Broadway, starring none other than Wayne Brady as Billy Flynn. Now, I don't normally like Wayne Brady. Being an improviser I can't believe that he honestly comes up with those songs on the spot. I just can't and that's something I realize I'm going to have to deal with at another time. On the other hand, I loved the Dave Chappell sketch where he parodied himself ("Is Wayne Brady gonna have to smack a bitch?") and he did a very good job in the show. Afterwards we went to Ollies, on of my favorite Chinese restaurants in the heart of Time Square. That night was definitely great -- the kind of New York nights that I wanted to look back on with such fondness. Aw, for precious.

Saturday, Jen and I slept in before heading up to the Met. Now, I've never been to the Met and on the way we got some performance art from a joggar in tight short-shorts. Ew, not a good sight. The Met, however, was very nice and all the art is incredible. We both agreed that some of the moder art is a little pretensious. Eh, but some of it was pretty good. For $7 a ticket, i can't complain. Once we were done fratenizing with the socialites, we headed downtown to Lombardi's, America's first pizzeria. The wait outside was worth it because the pizza is delicious. I was glad that I got Jen to sample some of authentic New York culture. And hey, what's not to like about good pizza? Am I right? Huh? HUH?

Then: HALLOWEEN. And I had to work. Though it wasn't a busy day, the people who called were nuts. One woman wanted to be fitted in where there was no room (my boss told me it was okay and was glad I was doing my job). Other guy yelled because he had an open account (he later came by and apologized -- that was actually very cool) and one lady was on crack-cocaine, starting the trick-or-*snort*-treating early. Jen, having problems with the security desk, couldn't leave. That was a shame. It was such a nice day and the parade around Washington Square Park was in full swing. I decided that she shouldn't stay any longer. I came home, picked her up, and took her with me to my casting session. I knew it was going to be short and it was. We got a great cast (considering that only four people auditioned we got extremely lucky) and now rehearsals can finally get under way. With that behind us, Jen and I joined the crazies in the street and got a sandwich and s'more dinner at "square-bagel" Cozy. All-in-all, a nice, if untypical and uneventful, holiday.

Yesterday, after going to Katz deli to break my vegetarianism (something I haven't done in two years because when you go to an authentic New York deli you don't order a salad, you just don't). We walked around SoHo and Washington Square, a beautiful fall day that should have been in a movie. And then we parted ways. I was so happy to see Jen, knowing I wouldn't see her for a while. I miss her a lot of the time, but just getting a taste filled me with so much content that I can't complain. She's absolutely great -- one of my best friends.

And now, today, I voted for the first time. Voting in either Utah or New York doesn't really matter, the both go one way, even if it was not the same. It was just nice to vote in New York, knowing that I'd be on the winning side at least. But the show ain't over yet...well, The Daily Show is and that's really all that matters...but the fight still rages. Let's see tomorrow if the world doesn't fold in on itself. Good luck, America.

Jarky · Dec 3, 2004

Vida Despues de Dio

"Sometimes I want to go to sleep and merge with the foggy world of dreams and not return to this, our real world. Sometimes I look back on my life and am surprised at the lack of kind things I have done. Sometimes I just feel that there must be another road that can be walked -- away from this person I became -- either against my will or by default."
- Douglas Coupland, Life After God

I have to admit, I didn't plan on having improv fade out of my life as drastically as it has. Maybe it was dragging me down. Maybe it was keeping me from pursuing other things. No, I take that back. It's not holding me back from anything, but perhaps my brain can only focus on scriptless and script-ful material one at a time. Being on the east coast, as I've said before, has been like a dream. The more I stay here the more it feels like my waking life in Utah is going on and I'm asleep on an island known as Manhattan. Now I can feel the early morning hours creeping upon me as I realize I'm going to have to wake up for a little while. And you know what? I'm looking forward to taking in all that the day has for me.

Believe it or not Utah, I miss ya. Well, not you specifically, but your like the fun-sized Joe Pesci drug dealer on the East Side of Washington Square Park who I see every morning in a bad, short sleeve button down and slacks in much need of ironing. Rain or shine, that guys out there hustling...or something. I'm not sure. Then one day he wasn't standing in his place. It through me off. That's how I see my relationship with Utah at the moment. You look at it from a far and it's creep. You wouldn't engage it in conversation because there's no telling what that ugly face has seen. And yet, the face is familiar. You have to stare right in its eyes and realize that its as much a part of you as your skin.

So, Zion Curtain, here's a list of some things I want to experience while I'm home:

1) Orbit, I want you to serve me Sunday brunch, but still find time to talk to me about how college, New York, etc. is going
2) Movies 10, I want you to provide me with an abundance of movies that I was not able to see while I'm here because ticket prices are $10.25
3) Sampan, open on Christmas to provide dinner for all us damned to hell for not acknowledging Christ as our God. The egg rolls better be just as good.
4) Kol Ami, please -- oh please -- have a bar mitzvah and ask me last minute to do the USY presentation.
5) Fairmont Aquatic Center, this ones a two parter: a) close to pool because someone deficated in it for the second time in one day. If that's not an option go to plan b) of kicking me out of a lane because of a polo game that slipped past the person making the schedule
6) Deseret Industries/DI, provide me with a new wardrobe for the spring semester, stained if at all possible
7) Snow, make whatever car I end up driving fishtale to the point where I think my insurance is going to go through the roof again
8) And most of all: Dees, give me an all night arena for philisophical battles and improv critiques between old friends. Lisa, do an accent that's more authentic that any boro here. Jesse, say something that would make the guy who urinates in the street look like a patron saint. Jen, give me a hug accompanied by some sacrastic comment on the way I look. Austin, make me crack up by quoting 50 Cent or some other marginally talented artist. Jady, flick sugar packets and taunt me to the very end of the night. Scott, sing some obscure musical number and bash me for only seeing one musical while I've been living in New York.

Nothing's changed, people. Improv is all about the people and I can't wait to see all of you. I can't wait to get on stage, too. That is, if you want me there of course. The last time I was in contact with the beatiful beast we call improv I was going to the bi-weekly improv club on campus. Only me and another kid showed up so the guys leading the workshop hunted through a bag of propholactics that had been left from the safe sex seminar which took place in the same room before hand. Yikes. The other kid left and I hung out with the guys from Dangerbox, Andy and (Little) Ben. We went to get smoothies. Nice to talk to some people who were in touch with improv, but were dealing with similar stuff like was, i.e. NYU and being away from home. They were amazed, like everyone, that I'm a Jew from Salt Lake City. There's a one man show in there somewhere, I know it, but I'm going to save everyone the trouble of listening to me be a smart-aleck. They were nice guys -- hell, it was just nice to talk to improvisers again. People who understand words like "Harold" and "Armando".

Well, for now I'm keeping this "improv" journal alive. I know that it's severly lacking the adjective part, but in a few weeks I'm hoping that I can live up to that title. I hope I've rested enough, dreamed for a long enough time, that I'm able to pull an all nighter with my friends. I miss them, I miss my family, and I miss home. From dream to reality, let's go.

Jarky · Dec 27, 2004

Jesus' Birthday and Austin Returns

"Yes, Hanukkah...the time of year when news anchors across America turn to the camera and say, 'And for all of our Jewish friends...' "
- Jon Stewart

Many people think that Hanukkah means eight nights of large, expensive gifts lined up one after the other. Thank you, Adam Sandler. No, in all truth it's a very nice holiday that doesn't get a second glance in the eyes of all us gentile-challenged because...well...uh...it just isn't. But the gifts that do come are often very worth the trouble of listening to above-said Sandler's song played again and again during this time of year.

Exhibit A

Jon Stewart is a great Jew because he doesn't flaunt it. He recognizes it is there, jabs at it, then goes back to kicking the ass of social satire. All of the gifts I got this year were papery and required reading of sorts (except for the scarf Jady gave me which is so awesome), but the one of the best was:

One of...nay, the best book of the year.

Exhibit B

As always, Jesse has a class on Tuesday that is free for anyone interested in learning about scenic improv. Now, since he started back last spring I've heard it ranging from only two people and I've seen it stretch to where you could only get on stage once an hour. Returning for his class I expected to see the usual troopers: Jen, Scott, Lisa, Jeremiah, Dan, and so forth. What caught me off guard was the KYSOffer reunion that fittingly came about spur of the moment. Luke had returned from Florida and brought Joe Beatty in tow. It almost made my small, little Manhattan heart cry when he raised his hand to say that he missed improv. Everyone could see it -- everyone including Luke, Jesse, Lisa, Scott, Jen, Joe Beatty, Erin, Troy, Austin, Jady, and myself. Throw in Ryan (who predicted that his absence would be felt), mix in a little Laine and Emily, a pinch of Jose, and a double dose of the Rogans for good times...good times...oh, then Ben showed up at Coffee Break afterwards so that just added to the joy. The feeling of old improvisers gathering together was great. Lisa and I had a very funny scene in a new form that takes on the appearance of a soap opera. Coming back into town, having not done improv to the degree in which I had originially when I lived in Salt Lake, I was worried that my skills had greatly diminished. But once I got out there everything just clicked. Call backs, over exaggerations, all of it. Then I fucked it up by bringing an agenda on stage to which Jesse was more than happy to remind everyone of. And y'know what? That's exactly the way I wanted to be welcomed back.

Exhibit C

The very next day I wasted no time in pursuing the improv I so loved. Getting a little bit of a tease the day before was just enough to put me in the mood for a four hour intensive. Normally I wouldn't fork over $20 for knowledge I already have, but when Austin teaches I don't feel bad helping out a friend, nor flexing the my muscles of improv. We jumped right into a technique he had learned in Dirty South that, for the first hour and a half, I really did not enjoy. It was a mix of a Cat's Craddle and a monologue...with a group...kind of... :nervous: (damn it, Jarky, use your words! That's what college is for!). Let's just say that it was challenging to the style I had grown accustomed to over the years. But around the end of the second hour I was beginning to see the angles of this idea. It had a lot to do with keeping ideas fresh -- waiting for just the right time to call them back. By the end, I was enjoying myself and I think everyone else was as well. This new kid C.J. and I really clicked, not to mention we had just about every other scene with one another; the best being me lying spread out on the ground, him walking towards me, looking up, and then back down at me saying "Jeez, that must of hurt real bad!"

I hope he sticks with it. You never know, right? People come and go, add to the history before they take themselves away. Maybe he'll be different. There's always a chance. I'm really happy to see that Jeremiah and Dan are sticking with it. Both of them are almost at their one year mark in March. They'll be old schoolers in no time.

So there it is: case and point. I should be able to do at least one show while I'm here, see the improvisers in town, and report back soon. We'll see about that. But if anything, just wait for the year in review, because like Entertainment Weekly...it's worth waiting for.

And now for all of our Jewish friends out there...

Jarky · Dec 30, 2004

Present Tense Improv

"Art is that thing having to do only with itself--the product of a successful attempt to make a work of art. Unfortunately, there are no examples of art, nor good reasons to think that it will ever exist. And yet we continue to write, paint, sculpt, and compose. Is this foolish of us?"
- Everything Is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer

By the end of 2004 I will have read close to twenty or so full length books. That's something I'm very proud of. According to a report on NPR I heard, forty-million new Americans have joined our nations cenus numbers yet the rate of literacy remains the same. This is not new information--with all the new technology that's manufactured and put on the markets is it surprising that books are an art form on the decline? Not really, but you can still ask people to recommend their favorite books and chances are that there are several they'll prescribe to you. The last book I read during this year was one of my favorite, the semi-magic realism/historical fiction book quoted above. Right before I left for New York a waitress at the Orbit suggested I read it. I was four days away from leaving and only had the time to read the first chapter with it less than hooking me in those few pages.

During a lecture entitled ART IN THE WORLD I was building a list of books I needed to read in the near future. My friend Sam, whom I've never seen sit down with a book suggested Everything Is Illuminated. It seems right to end the year on this note...er, book...and it's significances to my improv at the moment. In that same lecture our teacher refered to improv as not qualifying for having an artistic nature. No record can be traced back to great lines, unbreakable techniques, and so on. In short, he was disregarding improv as a type of art. Not even giving it the benefit of the doubt as seeing it as entertainment. Now, I'm not bitter or mad about this. Afterall, it's his opinion and I've run into many more stinging bites about improv. Then I decided to flip his opinion in my opinion. What if improv is not art? What if it is something bigger that cannot be recorded, isn't meant to last for ages upon ages, and is just something that is channeled only for the present because it can never live again? Again, not any new information, but what if all improvisers are looking to make a lasting mark with their off-the-cuff skills? That could explain the drive to keep coming back to something that has it's more than fair share of frustrations. And maybe it explains why almost everywhere you find improvisers they're all aiming at the same target. It's almost like a group effort (or mind) to achieve individual satisfaction.

Out of my head, into reality.

Last Tuesday seemed like old times mixed with new habits. Not as many veterans attending this class, but a few I haven't played with in ages like Luke, Joe Rogan, and Troy. I was having trouble staying in the moment and the soap opera format was not working like it had the previous class. I did have a great moment when my I-thought-I-you-said-you-were-going-to-quit-cooking, exercising, etc. character was caught whipping potatoes by his daughter. It really made me question how much training and rehearsal a good improviser needs. I seem to be able to do things great when I first learn the concept then struggle to obtain that same level I felt I had in the beginning. I can see why some people feel they need no training whatsoever because that breaks things do so they can be analyzed. But I believe the contrary to be true: that to be a great improviser it require hours, days, years, and decades to master it. The first taste is to validate the potential. After that it's time to hit all the low points before rising to the top. My old habits kept showing up which just goes to show what will happen when you don't do it every weeks. You'll still have all your abilities, but you must be reminded all over again of how hard you must work to make great scenes, characters, and relationships.

The striving to be art drives us. The methods mold us. And time works as a kiln to make sure we grow solid properly. New York's got it all, but it still doesn't have the same type of people and training grounds that I had here. If only I could package it to take back with me. Ah, if only. Too bad it just exists for the moment, but in reality I wouldn't have it any other way.

Jarky · Jan 8, 2005

Card Illusions

"The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel."
- Horace Walpole

Much of my life I wish could be a movie. No, I take that back: much of my life I view as a movie and through my frustration with the lack of "off" buttons is where I find living difficult. Just my point of view, but one I say with pride because it's quintessentially who I am. A number of personal anomalies have a occurred this week -- most of which I have not granted their importance and am (regretably) only now feeling their effects.

First of all, I miss home. Home, in this case, means the levels of comfort I found within the boundaries of Salt Lake. All of these people who have such a profound influence on me constantly return to inform me of great insights. My friend Kira told me about the numerous people, unbeknownst to me, who had crushes on me. Could have helped earlier, but still nice to hear. My "self-proclaimed big sister" Rachel reminded me of all the petty drama occurring in this city. For all that I complained about it, the dearth of history and gossip is longed for. At the same time, I miss home, in this case, New York. While my swimming has gotten stronger due to the thin air in this mountainous region I feel that my confidence, drive, and all around New Yorker attitude slightly waning. I can't wait to put my finger on the pulse of the city once again, to return to what Jonathan Franzen refers to as "the cultural stew of youth, too old and too young for marketing of suburban life, to begin making their stamp on the world with others just like them" in his book of essays entitled How To Be Alone. Franzen humanizes the type of person I would like to be one day that I'm sure will never come: the educated, New Yorker who takes all of Sunday to do the crossword puzzle, yet is secluded and does not feel he has to constantly impress his colleagues with gaudy parties. Plus, he's a writer who, despite his feeling about the decline of the American reader and the novel in general, understands his importance as a writer. For what it's worth that give me hope for me and my friends with the pens (and just to set the record straight, my friend Sam from my last post is quite an worldly and wise individual who need not require the source material of his knowledge in his hands -- I mean it quite literally when I say I've never seen him with a book. Nothing beyond that). Really, I can't wait for the challenge of the Big Apple.

Not to say that here hasn't been a challenge in its own right.

I feel very blessed to have the friends and family I do in Salt Lake. Many of them over the past weeks have pushed me to limits in my comfort zone. While some were to the point of being outrageous, the majority have redefined the person I feel I am. The only image that conjures in my mind is that of a snake who's out grown his skin a number of times. All of the charmers, my friends, have taken turns washing and removing the dead tissue to allow for me to breath with a new pattern lining my back. Until now I've felt sheepish about exposing that layer. Now I cock back my shoulders as I feel the radiance of this fresh Jarky. Weird...tingly...but ultimately clean.

Of all the ways that I've been pushed, it was improv that demonstrated how I needed to take a step out and let all of these changes really set in.

On Tuesday, at Jesse's class, I went early to the 3.2 rehearsal because I'd felt my time on stage from 8-10 just wasn't enough. And understandably so, I mean there are a lot of students he teaches at the moment (and with good cause; he's one hell of a teacher). This in mind, I set out early and performed the Le Rant and Soap Opera with great success. The funniest scene I had during the course of the night was with Jen in which I played a man who had his tail gruesomely ripped out only to have it replaced with a set of eyes. But the part of the class, once everyone was invited inside, gears shifted towards a form done by a group called: Eight Feet Under. The idea resembles that of a Cat's Cradle, Dorm Room, whatnot. The people on stage recite monologues about a person they all knew who now is dead. This is the basically the person's wake. My first time on stage gave little to no results on my abilities nor my feelings about the piece. The second time I was asked to be the dead person and to wait until everyone one was done with their pieces. The character I was given turned out to be an admirably man with a crippling drug addiction to those around him. I apologized to each one for making all of the trauma I inflicted upon him or her. "I'm sorry for that," I'd say, "Fuck me for doing it." But the one person I trusted, my roommate at college I didn't forgive her. I blame her for my relapse into self-medication, warning a young protege of mine that it's people like her who make you miss out on all the other people around you, especially the one you care about. Where these words, feelings, and expressions where coming from, but it cut like a blade. It wasn't comedy. Far from it. Jesse even said, "Okay, what you did was great, but I've realized I don't really like that style of doing it." And I didn't feel offended. I wasn't thrown off guard. It was an experimentation into the dark realm of possibility and I wish I could go back and do it all again.

But that's the magic of improv, right. That's what I spoke of in my last few entries. The only present moment of the now is the magic of spontaneous comedy. It's not like an internet card trick that four people tell you the secret behind it, which is really shallow and just a faux pas on your part. Listen to the words of Gob Bluth, "There magic illusions; a trick is something a whore does for money." Well said. As for me, I'm glad that my friends -- both thinkers and feelers -- have granted me some leverage to explore uncharted territory in my life. Now, despite the lack of a childhood room with all my personal items to use for sancturary, I feel like I have a home in many places.

Jarky · Jan 13, 2005

Morbid Humor (or Dramatic Comedy for those who'll listen)

"Can I confess something? I tell you this as an artist, I think you'll understand. Sometimes when I'm driving... on the road at night... I see two headlights coming toward me. Fast. I have this sudden impulse to turn the wheel quickly, head-on into the oncoming car. I can anticipate the explosion. The sound of shattering glass. The... flames rising out of the flowing gasoline."
- Annie Hall

I think that you can make anything funny. Some things are better with a comic tone sprinkled on it and others are not and therefore, should be left alone. But the mere idea that they could the potential for humor to come out of the mundane is something I enjoy quite a bit.

Take the above quote for example. As I re-read it, there's little to no humor coming out of it. That is until I think of a young Christopher Walken saying these lines cold as ice to a once-talented-in-1977 Woody Allen and then I crack up. How many people wait to hear the end of something abstractly morbid though? Seems like anything high concept now gets more peoples backs than heads turned.

The past two weeks in Jesse's class we've been workshoping a form called: "The Wake". It resembles the format of "Dorm Room" or what I've heard called "Coffee Shop" except that it leans more into the dark nature of comedy more than I'm used to. Basically, you open with about six to seven people on stage reciting the memories of a now deceased person and what that person specifically meant to them. Like any accompaniment to funerals, the monologues veer in and out of tragedy, remorse, sorrow, excitment, regret, and atonement. At times it's hard to watch because you remember that what the people on stage are striving for is a hearty laugh. Yet all that escapes from their lips are haunting emotions.

Enter the scene work.

See, now it wasn't until the scene work was added that I really began to enjoy The Wake (and subsequentally feel bad that I'm not going to be around to watch it's progress of development in the same way that I didn't get to see The Hook do that as well). Many of the scenes were laced with the saddness from the opener, but then, out of the blue would come the hilarious and heartfelt moments that made me almost believe this stuff was scripted. It reminded me a lot of having high tragedy -- like Oedipus or Agamemnon -- performed only after the great character flaw has been exposed the actors rejoice in the humility suffered. Bottomline: it's twisted (though not in a sick way) humor posing as melodrama and I have to say that I would love to see it performed as a signature piece. All that you have to do is have Christopher Walken or Lisa Anderson (who, frankly, is better looking and funnier

) remind the audience that, "Hey, we can be both impactful and humorous at the same time."

It proves that improv does hold a place among the great modes of expression. For me, it satifies a personal curiosity I've been pondering over for the last two and half years. Now I can get past the worry -- although I'm sure threads of it will resurface in years to come -- and move on with simply producing it. Sweet...!

Jarky · Jan 16, 2005

Return to the Empire

"You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this right of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something."
- Garden State

Jady, you can hate it all you want. I understand why. Scott and Jen, you can make fun of me for it all you want. I understand why as well. In fact, anyone who comes across this chain of thought immediately has my permission to hound me for what is written down. Just my thoughts and what was being felt at the time -- but there out there and just waiting to collide with ridicule. Are you chemical enough to be the catalyst? I think so.

I liked Garden State. Correction: I liked Garden State up to the last two minutes. The ending was not what I'd hoped for, but that being said, the movie was more than I expected. Once this trip home wraps up tomorrow at 8:50 a.m. mountain standard time I think I'll have grasped more than I could have out of that film than when I saw it a mere four months ago. Coming home -- or at least the place that you once called home -- can take you by surprise, especially with the people you felt closest to before you left.

The majority of my friends still look, act, and treat me (for the most part) the same as when I left. If anything there admiration for me and mine for them has grown since our time a part. My friend Justin is getting set to depart on a mission to Thailand in the spring, yet he still wrestles with his faith compared to Taoism and Buddhism, both of which he believes in. He can still sit down with a cup of chai to discuss the cosmos and our place as human beings in the world. Now, Justin and I are close, but he's never challenged me in who I am, nor have I done that either. It's always been the improv crowd, the ones who I had to almost literally win their acceptence, who continue to make me work hard at being a person I'm proud enough to say I am.

Which doesn't mean that it can't get frustrating. However, there are moments when performing history and personal experience collide with the catalyst of the stage to make a contorted, though ultimately comfortable version of home sweet home. Guys, you are some of the weirdest, vulgar, smart-ass, brilliant, passionate people I know. And it's experiences like last night that make me want to stick around Salt Lake to watch house develop into a home, if that makes sense. Past all the fights, controversies, and beefs you make me very happy. Last night's show just proved not only how much you care about improv. It demonstrated, how ever small it might seem at the moment, your dedication to each other.

I arrived at Sugarbeats, the new venue in Sugarhouse, at 10:00 p.m. feeling very nervous for some reason. I guess I just wanted to see 3.2 have a place to really strut there stuff that would be permanent. Entering I saw Kevin, Scott, and Julia setting up the house. It would only be a short half hour that would drag on before Scott and I took to the stage for HomeBrew followed by the 3.2 cast. It's the waiting that killed me. All these thoughts about what if we have an audience, what if Sugarbeats decides they don't want us, what if our new form doesn't work out? What if? What if? What if? I've never enjoyed these types of inquiries, whether coming from others or myself. But that's what sitting around will do to you. Of course, it will also give you a chance to be improviser and friend to those around you. Hanging out back...er, side....uh, by the toilets with Lisa, Heather, Jen, and Scott was fun because we just got to joke around. We were in improv mode, but no one was expecting us to be funny. We were doing it because just needed to. Everything from --

JEN: Hey, Jarky, do you want to look and feel fabulous?
ME: I don't know. Is she hot?

To...

LISA: Hey I found Joe Beatty's article he wrote in The Chronicle (the University of Utah's paper)...cool, he used the word 'cog'.

Lights up and HomeBrew on. The previous night, after doing a fun, if not long radio show at the University of Utah, Scott and I went to see I Heart Huckabees. My first time viewing it was in New York, in the middle of the afternoon, with only five other people in the audience. I walked out of the theatre feeling very blurry and fractured. But seeing it with Scott, a man who claps -- yes, people, he claps at movies -- made it ten times better. Also, it gave us an idea for our set last night. Huckabees is based on the Miesner acting technique, as I'm informed by my good and smart friend, Theresa. It involves have one line repeated numerous times with a different tone or inflection. Scott and I figured we could do a two man Armando and when some statement stuck out we'd turn go Meisner on it's ass. Turned out, it worked beautifully. Our suggestion was music, that led to a scenes about growing up, seeing your future self in twenty years, kids playing a game of pretend called "Global Conglomorate". Any time we thought a connection was unclear, hell, we'd just tell the audience -- not about what had been connected in the long form, but how it connected into our own lives. It made it relevant not only to the characters on stage, but also for Scott and me as well, ending it with a hug. Ahhhh....for. Precious.

3.2 came on next, opening with a Stop and Go. That's actually a great way to brain storm. I don't think I've ever done it in front of an audience until last night. Some of the scenes that came out of it in the Harold were a little limp, lacking direction. Still, those in the scenes were confident about their skills that they stuck to their guns. That's what makes performers like Will Ferrell so good. No matter how bad a scene he got stuck in, Ferrell always performed at the top of his game. He never let his frustration show. There were weird scene involving X-File babies, a person in love with a person not in love (and reversal at the end), and being agnostic about your father who is G-d. But we stuck to our guns, that was the point. The evening concluded with Scott recapping the progress of 3.2 and retiring my (well, okay, his) tie by clipping it. It signaled my release into the world while simultaneously thanking me for all the work up to this point. That was nice.

It was a simple way to end my vacation to Improv land, but also my trip home. There was no after party or hanging out at Dee's. Lisa was coming down with a cold. Heather and Julia looked so tired. But Scott hung around we me and my friends who came to see the show, Rachel and Kira who both had a mutual friend who came named Stephanie. Even though I write this while still here in Utah, it feels like that was my farewell. A good show, followed by a small group of people chatting in a coffee house, and going to bed. Perhaps it's a good thing you can never go home. That way things always change. Like improv, it will never be the same twice. If you try to repeat scenes you've already done they'll just turn out shitty. So you move forward even if you hate the scene you are in now and it's all your fault. Because by the end you'll feel pretty good about the people your with and they person you are to them. Do I miss home? Yeah, I do. Am I glad I can never come back? No, not really.

I'm just happy there's something -- improv, friends, community, family, whatever -- no matter how distorted it gets from the vision I have of it in my head, to come back to. And like the last two, cheesy minutes of a great movie, that's where I end it.

Jarky · Feb 15, 2005

Sunday Night Laughs and Blues

"Well, I'm back."
- The Return of the King

Yes, it's been a while since I've documented any experience with improv. It has been a long dry spell. During that time I'd left my brilliant, although it be scripted, comedy to come from the experts: The Bluth Family. At the moment, they aren't going anywhere, but it doesn't look good. Really, who could cancel these awesome people:

But, hey brother, there's more.

On Sunday night my friends Sam, Colin, and I braved the newly turned cold to head up to the UCB. There was a rumor that either Jason Bateman, recently the host of SNL, or Will Arnett (who plays "Gob" and is married to Amy Pohler) would be taking a guest spot on AssKat. To our disappointment this was not the case. But I'm still glad we went. Amy Pohler was on top of her game, as was Seth Meyers and another Seth guy, this one a writer for the show. For the past few years I have not been a fan of Saturday Night Live. Every now and then I see something incredibly insightful and new, but mostly when I turn it on I see talented people stretching bad material. It's uncomfortable to watch them flounder. But when let loose -- without TV censors or Lorne Michael's watching them -- they really displayed what talented performers they are in the way of improv. Despite a weak monologist, they pulled out some of the most outrageous stuff I've seen in a while. A few times they were on top of each other and focus got lost, but most of the time you just saw the entire cast adding something to one scene. No one just stood on the sidelines. Everyone wanted to contribute to building the entire show and it wasn't a "hey, look at me being funny!".

Looking back on Sunday night I'm amazed I was awake. It had been a crazy day at work. Around one o'clock a large protest gathered outside. The story I heard was as follows: a woman was abusing her dogs --> rescue works saved the animals and had the Humane Society adopt them out to safe homes --> woman finds out, gets her friends together, and decides to make a dog day afternoon of it. I swear to Lord on High that was not a pun! What ensued was people running though the building, past my desk, quickly followed by two of New York's finest. All in all I think four police officers had to show up: two to keep the crowd at bay and two others to check actual patients into the clinic. The phones that day were just as hectic so having a group of idiots outside didn't help matters. Also, I had stayed out until 3 a.m. with a super cool girl.

I had only been looking for someone to see Hotel Rwanda with me. All my friends were busy. My cousin was busy, but, she said, her friend Callan would be more than happy to accompany me to the show. Despite the mass genocide on screen, it was a very nice date (Don Cheadle should get an award for that movie -- it's an amazing piece of art, but a terrible date movie...especially if your date cries and you don't know if you should put your arm around them to comfort her). We got coffee until about 2:30 and I walked her home about three. Even that early in the morning, the city doesn't feel that threatening. I'm getting used to the inviting city lights, late night dinners, and, in this case, good company to roam around the East Village with. It was also great to meet a fellow improviser who missed getting to perform on stage. Callan had performed with Comedy Spotz for three years -- all through high school -- and we would sporatically dive into scenes during the evening. I found that incredibly awesome.

So, at the moment Arrested Development hangs in the air of ever coming back. The Upright Citizen's Brigade stands out as the main fix for great improv on a late night. And the only chance I'm getting to have an improv workout with with my dates. On the whole, I can't complain.

Jarky · Mar 4, 2005

Afterthought Letter

"Take your shower/shine your shoes/you got no time to lose/you are young men/you must be livin'/go now/you are forgiven."
- Dispatch, The General

Heads up: this is a short post. Y'know, for a change. Really all I'm doing is trying to scrap every little bit of improv I can get together. A friend, who shall remain anonymous, of mine sent me an e-mail the other day:

i dunno why i just typed all that to you, but in all seriousness the
dangerbox boys and their [cute] girl were decent. there was a little
cockiness surrounding them and they seemed to approach improv from a
writing perspective which, i think, makes things really difficult.
some of their scenes had a ton of exposition and explanation that
responses had to be clever and smart instead of honest and real. one
of the dudes was in a workshop i was in and he walked around like he
was awesome. i thought he was okay, but had some major improv flaws.

fuck them for not picking you. you're much more fun to play wiith
than that [guy] they let in. haha. tall guy seemed to be weirded
out that i told him that you should be on the team. i hope you're not
embarrassed or anything like that.

i've said too much.
i'm out.

It's interesting because I have no ill will towards Dangerbox. Yeah, I was disappointed I didn't make it on to the troupe, but hey, we move on, right? That's just my friend defending my honor (and, I hope, my improv skills). But you know what? It's a comforting thought that after months -- aside from my brief return during Christmas break -- of not doing improv that my friend still thinks so highly of me on stage. I was flattered and amazed that he would even remember my auditioning for the team, then make an effort to go see them just so he could tell me I should have gotten on.

And there you go. I hope I can get back into improv one day. I hope that Dangerbox starts up their workshops again (wink-wink)

, but other than that, no bad feelings. Just the fact that my friend would write me in a such a manner is enough to make a down-and-out improviser feel good again, just waiting for the moment to jump in the ring and knock'em on their asses. That will take some time, I can tell, but thanks for your thoughts, man.

The Dirk Diggler Story

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