Before I Sputter Out

[Ross White]

I suppose it's kind of passe to begin a journal with some thoughts on journaling. So I'll do it.

I'm a really horrible journaler, or journalist, or whatever you call someone who journals. I've tried a number of times to start them, and I always end up with a nice notebook that has writing on two or three pages and then a lot of white. All those imposing blank pages. And I've always begun journaling with very unclear motives... I've never cared much for recording my thoughts so that I can come back to them, at least not in prose form. I used to write a lot of poems, and those were better journals than anything else. I kept finding that when I committed an event to paper, it dried up in my memory and became nothing more than what I had managed on paper. But whatever I could capture in a few lines... and it was never an event as much as a snapshot... that stayed longer.

But the idea of journaling here is like a creepy, attractive thrill to me, because I have been peeking in on all of you from afar, and regularly. I wonder how many of the regular readers in the journal section know the writers; I'm guessing that a lot of you are reading the tasty morsels left by folks you've met at the Theater or at festivals. I don't know a single person whose journal I've been reading. I'm not in New York, or Chicago, or LA, or anywhere with a particularly hopping improv scene. Which alternately makes me feel like I'm the ideal audience for these journals, and like I'm a real bastard voyeur.

So, I could rationalize this journal as an attempt to sort of give something back and assuage some of that voyeur guilt, but it really isn't that. It's actually pretty cowardly in a lot of ways. I just need a place to say things, and I feel like this is a pretty harmless forum. I only have two or three friends who will wander by and see this journal, and they seem so far removed from my everyday life because they are in New York. I have met one or two others through Improv Everywhere missions that may see this. But for the most part, I can keep a very public journal and still enjoy a degree of anonymity; it's in some ways an attempt at community with people who wouldn't know me if they passed me on the street. And that's really comforting right now, as I find myself more and more in need of solitude, retreating to an empty house a few more nights each week. Where I promptly hop on these, and other, boards.

I think this current malaise is not unlike the summer that Anthony accused me of locking myself in my room to obsess over a girl. Same general M.O., only no girl involved. Which is actually nice... the last month or so is the first stretch in a while where I haven't found myself obsessed with some girl or another. So maybe it's a well-adjusted malaise?

Whatever is up with me, I find that I've had some strange compulsions of late. The big one involves my bathtub. I'm a notorious night person, which makes me completely dysfunctional in the morning. If I don't shower when I get up, I won't wake up until one in the afternoon, which just wouldn't work for a 9-to-5. So, like I have just about every day for a couple of years, I'm showering every morning. But when I get home at night, for the last three weeks or so, I am compulsively drawn into the bathroom to soak in the tub for 20 minutes. And on occasion, twice a night. It's not overwhelming or anything, so I don't find it outrageous or terribly strange, I'm just kind of cognizant that I have been enojying a tub full of hot water more than TV or books lately. Toss a couple hundred mp3s in random order so I won't know what I'm getting, turn the stereo up, and hop in the tub. In fact, I'm quite certain that's where I will end up when I finally hit submit tonight. But then, tonight, I kinda need to hop in the tub or shower.

I think that if I have an emerging psychosis and the whole bathtub thing is the first sign, the second sign occurred when I took a break from writing this about 15 minutes ago. I had to wear a suit to work today, and I left the AC off at home, so my house is pretty warm. So when I changed clothes after work, I didn't bother with a shirt. (I have a bug bite on my chest which drove me nuts for an hour today while I was in a meeting, so I wanted to scratch at that.) And, as I was finishing a bathroom break during the detailing of my voyeuristic fascination with the IRC journals, I looked in the mirror, and without thinking much about it, grabbed a razor and shaved my chest.

I am at a loss as to what possessed me to do this. I was halfway done before I thought, "Holy shit, I am shaving my chest. This is abnormal." This was not a particularly difficult chore, as I have never been very hairy, but what the fuck compelled me to do it?

Not that chest-shaving is particularly scandalous. Admittedly, I don't have much of a chest to show off, and don't plan to show it off to anyone anyhow. But it's not something I had done before, and not something that I can rationally explain. It's almost like I did it in a fugue state.

It's something I'll mention to my friend Constantine. He's just opened his own office for hypnosis, and I've been toying with going in there to see if I can get some benefit from it. He claims that hypnosis can be used to control addictions, limit chronic pain, increase your energy, and lose weight. (He also confessed, in one of his more drunken moments, that in times of extreme self-pity, he has used hypnosis tactics like suggestion and mild trancing to pick up women. This may explain the constant stream of 21-year-old women that he picks up despite his really unflattering British invasion haircut. I am almost certain but unable to confirm that the haircut is merely masking for a hearing aid, so at least he has an excuse for the do.) My real interest in hypnosis is memory recovery. I don't think I have painful repressed memories or anything, but I do feel like a lot of the past couple years-- good years-- are hazier than they should be. And I'd really like to be able to pluck more out of that haze, and remember the conversations and events that my friends refer to and I sort of shrug and nod about. It's all, somehow, lost to me. And that pisses me off.

[Ross White]

Fuck. Fuck. Shaving your chest is a terrible idea! I awoke this morning with razorburn and the t-shirt I am wearing has stuck to me all day. Gross. I would have hoped for at least one day of smoothness. But no. I'm stubbly. Had I really premeditated the action, I would consider chest-shaving to be an ill-conceived plan.

I had not planned to return to the journal quickly, but I had to get this down before the details escaped me. I evaded lunch with workers both because I didn't want to do the hour-and-a-half state-employee lunch that they're famous for, and because I really just preferred my own company today. So, right after they left, I lit out for the one place in Chapel Hill that I could be guaranteed they would not go: the U-Mall. My intention was to eat at the new Bear Rock Cafe, but the lines were everlong, so I went with old standby Chik-Fil-A. The place was packed, but there were no lines. Literally, maybe ten seconds passed between the time I uttered my order and the time I had my change and food in front of me. Well met, Chik-Fil-A!

I snagged one of those two-person booths, which was the last available seating, facing out towards the mall area so I could do a little people-watching. The first person to come in after I sat down was 6'10" monkey Kris Lang, who I am pleased to report will no longer be playing for Carolina next season. He has shed the pencil-thin beard, which makes him look like less of a moron, but I did sneak a peek at him having difficulty paying the right amount for his food. So, beard or no beard, the boy is dumb.

A blonde woman was pacing just in front of the entrance to the restaurant, talking on her cell phone. (This is no food-court Chik-Fil-A, oh no. This one is a store unto itself.) She was clearly agitated by whoever she was talking to, which made her fun to watch. (She was cute, too, which was part of the fun of watching.) At one point, our eyes met and she smiled a kind of awkward smile, which I interpreted as the "you watched me having a fight on my cell phone in public, and I'm ashamed" smile. I immediately darted my eyes back to that delicious chicken sandwich.

Over the next few minutes, she became louder but less physically animated. She stopped pacing and camped out to one side of the Chik-Fil-A entrance, and raised her voice slowly. It was obvious that she was having a fight with a boyfriend or husband, and though I was closer to the counter than the entrance, I could pick up that she was upset that he had not come home until very late the night before. "You don't respect me." She said that four or five times. I think by then, a lot of people in the restaurant were looking at her. Kris Lang was-- he eyed her carefully on his way out.

Still arguing, she shuttled in and without missing a beat, ordered. As though she were punctuating her verbal aggression with the beat in which she was talking to someone else. I wasn't watching her as she did this-- my back was to the counter-- but I was a little surprised when, after she got her food, she wandered right up next to my table and surveyed the seating situation. She made a snide comment about someone named Corey, and then, without moving the phone at all, leaned down to me and asked if she could sit with me.

I gave her the "have a seat" hand motion and spent the next four minutes trying my best not to look at this woman, who had now lowered her voice but was still spewing venom at this guy. ("You don't respect me" again. Twice.) But I couldn't help myself-- she was, after all, seated directly across from me. And once again, we locked eyes for a brief second, and she gave me the same clumsy smile.

I finished eating as quickly as I could, and left the table. "Hope it works out," I kind of muttered to her as I was leaving.

I'm a little mystified by this one, folks.

[Ross White]

Phone call at 2:06 PM. Recorded message.

"This is Hawaii Right to Life. We urge you to call your senator to oppose bill number 594-12, which would allow doctor-assisted suicide in Hawaii. Please call your senator right now at 808-541-2549 to voice your vocal opposition to this bill. This is Hawaii Right to Life. Please call your senator at 808-541-2549 to oppose the legalization of doctor-assisted suicide in Hawaii."


My favorite scene from Muppets from Space:

[PEPE THE PRAWN and KERMIT, dressed in white lab coats, in the hall at the ultra-secret government compound. Two DOCTORS enter.]

DOCTOR 1: Hello, doctor.

KERMIT: Doctor.

PEPE: Doctor.

DOCTOR 2: Doctor.

KERMIT: Doctor.

PEPE: Doctor.

KERMIT: That's us.

PEPE: Doctors in the hallway.

[Ross White]

I went with my boss to interview a young woman for a really unsavory position yesterday morning. It's not that the work is bad, but the woman who supervises that position is the devil. I think I was there because the boss liked this woman in the phone interview, and he wants me to step up, get a position created, and hire her.

We were at Foster's, and Robert Sledge walked in, looking a little haggard. I got a little sad, then, because it kind of made me think about the Chapel Hill scene.

Not that I was really ever a part of that scene, but there was a genuine "I-live-in-Chapel-Hill-and-I'm-fucking-excited-about-it" air that people carried around with them for a couple of years. And there was some really great music happening. Ben Folds Five, Superchunk, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Gladhands... it was awesome. But some of that is gone. There's still some great music, but it seems like The Comas have become the flagship band and everyone's so impressed that Andy is dating the girl from Dawson's Creek. There's not a geniune excitement any more, though the town is left with the remnants of a cooler-than-thou attitude.

I guess my lament is not so much for the town or for the scene... it's really just that a lot of my good friends, my talented friends, have moved away and are doing cool things elsewhere. I stayed in a college town, and I aged out of it. And that's not a pity-party kind of lament, either-- I love the RTP area, I love my job (most days), and I've got a free place to stay in just about any major city in the country. It's a little frustrating hearing about how excited everyone is to be doing great improv in New York and Chicago and to know that there's a lot less of that around here.

I never seriously considered leaving NC until recently. I find myself more and more contemplative of a move to New York, but I'm just at odds with myself over it. Part of me would like to chuck everything, get a low-commitment temp job, and work like a dog to get good at a new brand of improv. (Not that I'm not working hard at Destroy All Monsters now, but the resources I would have access to... wow.) And I would love to be around Anthony and Charlie and Dan again... because I really loved improvising with those guys. But one of the things that I love so much about improv is that it's my hobby, my art, my passion. I can't enjoy it if the rest of me lacks balance.

And balance is hard for me to find in big cities.

Went drinking with Constantine and a small group of folks in anticipation of this weekend's NC Literary Festival. So the hypnosis is on... I just need to schedule some time with him.

One of my good friends-- the guy I did my student teaching with-- is going through electro-shock therapy right now.

[Ross White]

I'm at home, on chaffeur duty.

Aftter ComedyWorx shows, I told Ben I'd go see Superchunk and Crooked Fingers with him. I'd been hedging all week-- I just haven't felt much like going out, but I had fun at the shows and was feeling randy enough for company. Ben said he was bringing Jen. Ah, I thought, the girl who lives one floor down from him that he's sort of seeing. Been wondering if she existed.

Jen, it turns out, was the girl who was sitting in the front row at the 7:30 show tonight, just generally being kind of "look at me, improv boys." OK, no biggie. They picked me up from the house so we could ride out to Chapel Hill together. That's when I got uncomfortable. Jen kept ragging on Ben, and it was a clear case of "Look at me and how cool I am." That just wasn't kosher. By the time we got to CH, I was not looking forward to spending a couple hours standing next to her. A creepy vibe.

Don't have to, as the show was sold out, so I volunteered to bolt, but I had to take the car and tell them I would pick them up after the show. Jen tried to make me take her ticket and said she would pick us up, but I was actually a little relieved to be able to slink back to the house and spend some time alone. Ben felt truly awful, and suggested that we do something afterwards. "Every place will be closed, so maybe we can just chill and drink at your house," Jen suggested.

They'll be drinking at the show, and I certainly won't let Ben get in his car and drive home if he's not up for it. But I don't want them here.

There's a thread on the yesand boards about ComedySportz that was touched off when an acquaintance from another troupe make an offhanded comment about me being "brainwashed" by ComedySportz. Some guy that I don't know got upset and was tired of people knocking CSz. It's clear that he really enjoys CSz. He attacked Lisa pretty harshly. A lot of people responded, and I think the general concensus was that this guy was kind of harsh.

I weighed in, since my name was already involved, which made me uneasy. I tried to walk the middle ground and say that a format is only as good as the improvisors doing it, and that I wasn't peeved with Lisa's good-natured jab, and that I wished people would use forums like IRC and yesand to be supportive and build community, not be divisive. Not an earth-shaking post.

What bothered me was that maybe six minutes later, a friend of my who is omnipresent on yesand, and who mentions me often in his posts, replied to the thread. He had already replied-- and was doing so again only to attack the guy who started the thread. Calling him ignorant, etc.

And now I feel like a jerk, just because of the company I keep.

Mostly, I feel bad for the fella who started the thread. It's pretty commonplace to see shortform-- and ComedySportz in particular-- lambasted in forums like these. And when it's something you do, and something you take pride in, and someone who has probably never seen your troupe is blasting you, well, that can be a little frustrating. No one likes to be judged without a fair shake.

I don't feel a particular affinity for any one form or format over the others at this moment. I see the criticism of CSz as pretty valid. I share some of the same concerns. I am loving the longform groups I am in. But you know, I just went to Raleigh and played a ComedySportz show for 120 people, and while I didn't feel like it was terribly artful or challenging, it was a lot of fun. Mostly, I look forward to working with improvisors I enjoy being with and trust-- in whatever forum I'm lucky enough to work with them in.

I'm pretty certain that if The Swarm became a ComedySportz team tomorrow, people would think ComedySportz was pretty damn good.

[Ross White]

I'm talking about turning an essay I wrote on online dating into an atricle for the Spectator. That would be fun, but would widen the scope of my admission that I was bored enough to try that shit. Oh, well. Maybe then I could pass the whole experience off as an experiment I did as a detached observer, as fodder for my creative outlets.

No, fuck. I was depressed and lonely. How completely lame.

[Ross White]

I am teaching a workshop for one of the last state agencies in North Carolina that has money. NC is in the middle of a major budget crunch, but these folks get federal workforce development dollars likeyou wouldn't believe. And now they are saying that they want to use the training materials I have developed to turn around and disseminate my training to their regional people. I wonder if I am allowed to say "Fuck you" to the clients.

I snuck away from them at lunch-- I have somehow managed to not say a word to any one of them unless it's in the context of the workshop I am teaching. I am feeling really antisocial.

The only reason for getting out of bed this morning was that I couldn't sleep at all last night. I had the night sweats something awful, even with the fan and the A/C on.

Second City's touring company is in town tonight, so I'm stoked to see that. I'm miffed that a quality improv/sketch group that we could learn a lot from is in town, and the response from people in my troupe has been, "Oh, I'm not really interested in them."

What the fuck? It's Second City. We're a shitty improv troupe in North Carolina. And with attitudes like that, we're going to stay that way.

I start thinking that I'm too fucking complacent...

[Ross White]

Went from depressed to manic somewhere around 12:15. I don't know if that's really what happened, insofar as I have not been known to be manic-depressive, but it sure felt like it. Somewhere along the line, it sunk in that the AC4 is this weekend and there was a shitload that needed doing, and no one was gonna do it unless I got off my keister and did it/coordinated it getting done. Yesterday, I hated my home club. Today, I'm so fucking excited that I can't sit still.

But Christ almighty, putting together a decent comedy festival is hard.

I got home from teaching this workshop, and fired off about 30 e-mails to people. Then hit the bed for a quick nap, and woke to the phone ringing. Charlie Todd, wanting to talk AC4. I can't wait for him to get here (and Ant)... playing with Meat Lodge is sort of the gem of the weekend for me, and I am looking forward to all of it. (Charlie bringing the tape of Neutrino's video Harold is high on the list, though. Kurt was so cool about getting it to me.)

Headed into work and finished up some of that "I'm out of the office all week" shit, and tried to get some of the icing on the cake for the AC4 weekend. Rolled back home at 11:30... and had a bunch of replies to earlier e-mails.

If Anthony, Charlie, and Dan are hoping that I will clean the house before they arrive... well, fuck. I guess I could clean instead of journal.

Richard, the owner at ComedyWorx, is so excited about the AC4 that he mentioned doing another festival in September-- maybe just longform, if he enjoys the Meat Lodge, Dual Exhaust, and CHiPs shows (i.e., they draw well, and he doesn't fall asleep). So, Zach Ward, the hopes and dreams of an entire festival are pinned on you.

Umm, can't think of the next festival until this one is done, though. But Larry Howard and I were kicking around ideas last night after we saw Second City Touring Company (a fun show, and well worth the price of admission, but somehow vaguely disappointing... that's no knock on the performers, but I wasn't thrilled by the sketch choices and hoped for something more daring...the shortform was solid). So we may make something happen.

Andre Meadows from Austin rolls in tomorrow, and ComedyCity from Green Bay is here Thursday afternoon. It's starting!

[Ross White]

About to hop in the bathtub. On the go all day. Feel pumped, but exhausted. AC4 in 19 hours. Yow.

I finish the workshop tomorrow. I've warmed to these guys a little bit. They're human. One girl, a pale, small girl with red hair in her early thirties (and I'm calling her a "girl"... shit, I'm always the youngest person in any workshop I teach, by five or, more commonly, fifteen years) came in with her hair gelled today. She kinda reminded me of someone before, today it clicked.

I am teaching a workshop for Thom Yorke from Radiohead.

Sure, he's disguised as a woman. But wow. They took pictures for their courses today, so when that goes online next week I will post it here. She looks like Thom Yorke, minus the lazy eye. Funny.

The Hurricanes won the Southeast Division by beating Tampa Bay tonight, which means the playoff road trip is a go. I hope it brings us to Long Island!

Jane Borden e-mailed today about guest-coaching Destroy All Monsters one day late this month. I think that rocks. And Porter Mason may be on for later this summer. My opinion of UCBT and the people therein continues to go up, up, up.

Gone all day, had 240 e-mails when I got home. New record. Has to be. Need to get a more active real life, live a little less virtually. 11 voicemails, too, though, that's a record too. Feels nice. Silly, huh?

Bath. Bed. Then, beyond.

[Ross White]

AC4. Awesome. Draining.

I slept for what felt like a day and a half after dropping Anthony and Charlie at the airport at 5:45. It was kind of disturbing to have to go back to a normal life after a whirlwind weekend, just because I wasn't quite sure how to go about my day. Post-natal depression, in a sense-- after carrying around the AC4 for months, I'm in that awkward stage where I'll have to start working towards a new goal in the next couple of months. But I do feel that haunting dichotomy of complete fulfillment and nagging emptiness that comes when you finish something that you loved doing.

Took the day off work in anticipation of exhaustion, which was evidently the right move. I remained sluggish until Ben and I hit the frisbee golf course on Kaplan St. Without Jen, which was nice. She did, however, accompany us for some Japanese food, and was mildly creepy the whole time. Ben explained while we were playing that they don't even kiss any more and they don't really have a relationship, but that he can't explain her strange hold on him. But, in the same conversation, he revealed that she's still pissy about him hanging out with other girls, particularly another Jen. Ben continues to tell me that I should continue to tell him to kick her to the curb. Which I will do.

[Ross White]

AC4: Thursday

Finshed my online course workshop for DPI at 4 PM, and was about to drop. Couldn't sleep the night before, kicking around ideas and possibilities for AC4. Kicking around worries. Wondering what I had forgotten.

The Green Bay team had mentioned that they would be in around early afternoon, so I was going to hang around Raleigh and try to reach them for dinner. Andre Meadows from Austin called around 4:45, so I went down to ComedyWorx meet him. Wade Minter joined us for dinner.

The open practice Thursday night was lightly attended by folks from other cities. Only Andre and Mike Baumann from ComedySportz Buffalo was in the house, as he generally drives to the AC4 while the rest of his team flies.

I took the opportunity to work with the whole troupe on some more scripted stuff, like the Spy Movie and Buddy Cop longforms. These seemed like they would be a really good way to get people interested in more sustainable formats and out of the 3-and-a-half minute box. We had a fantastic time with the Spy Movie the first time around, with Mike doing some really hilarious character work. But the second and third go-rounds lost a little steam each time, as though after having worked through the script structure, we had exhausted its possibilities. That was really disappointing, since I know we hadn't!

We ended the practice with a Buddy Cop, which was a lot of fun. I really wished we could have done another to see if we'd have the same course of comfort that that we had with the Spy Movie... but a few minutes into the Buddy Cop, Meat Lodge arrived!

Meat Lodge is Anthony King, Charlie Todd, Dan Kois, Bill Cochran, and me. The first three are living in NYC and Bill and I are here, but we put Meat Lodge together with the AC4 in mind and then decided we wanted to keep going after that. Before we'd ever played a show together.

We adjourned to my house for our first practice... ever. Charlie had brought at tape of his Level 1 show from UCBT, where they performed an Armando, so that we'd all have a chance to see one together and get on the same page with the form. We'd been discussing electronically, but I was thankful to see the tape. I'd never actually seen an Armando... or, for that matter, a decent monologue in a longform. I was still skeptical about that, because the one longform I had seen with monologues built into the form was beyond horrible, and I had wondered if they were generally that boring when working in that context. (The tape was really enjoyable. I thought Charlie shined, just because he didn't seem concerned with stage time, with jokes, or with anything other than having the conversation he wanted to have. Mark Hoffman was also quite good.)

So we got up in the living room, and we tried the format, and.... it rocked. We went 30 minutes before we even knew we'd gone 10. It was 11:30 by the time we started, and Bill and I were dead on our feet. It was 2:30 when we finished and no one really wanted to stop, but we felt kind of like we had to. But damn, we were having fuun and making good connections, and the scenework was some of the best that I had been a part of in a while.

It was maddening to know how much fun we were going to have at our shows but to have to wait 19 hours for them.

[Ross White]

Saw the hypnotist today.

Constantine has a small office on Columbia St. in a kind of crappy house. He e-mailed me mid-day to remind me of our appointment, which I was not aware that I had ever confirmed, but the e-mail arrived right as I was about to call George Serad and see if he was up for practice on the two-man team. Serendipity.

Constantine spent the first hour explaining what hypnosis is and how it works. He answered some of the common questions, and he was able to relate the process to me in improv terms because we have talked so much about the skills necessary for a stage show. It was amazing just how closely related improv and hypnosis are-- I was so surprised that group mind exercises are often sets of triggers for trance states (my conclusion, not Constantine's).

A few of the fine points about hypnosis:

• You can't make someone do under hypnotic suggestion something they would not otherwise be willing to do. ("People just surprise themselves sometimes with what they would be willing to do," says Constantine.)
• People use the term "sleep" because there's no better word for the process, but you are actually more alert and focused than normal.
• Hypnosis gets easier each time you do it... you learn to go deeper into the hypnotic state.
• Hypnosis is loosely defined as the bypass of the critical function, which relates the conscious mind to the subconscious.

Constantine worked me through relaxation exercises, and I was a little surprised to find out that there is physical contact in the process-- he touched my forehead, my arms, and my neck a few times for different reasons.

At one point, Constantine told me that I would not be able to open my eyes when I counted to three. I was, at this point, relaxed, but I did not feel like I was in a trance, and I had been chatting with him a little. But sure enough, when he hit three, I tried to open my eyes, and the struggle to do so just turned back on itself. I was amazed.

I don't think I went as deeply as he wanted me to, because he tried to make me forget that there was anything between 5 and 7 when counting to 10, and 6 still came out. Nonetheless, I was in a state of relaxation that I don't know that I have ever achieved, and time got fuzzy for a while in there. He talked a lot about confidence and told stories about Abraham Lincoln, of all things. (I had gone to him because I felt like my confidence had waned in the past months, and I wanted to look at the causes and start to rebuild it.)

When he coached me out of the trance, he counted to five, and at each number, he gave me a suggestion about the bodily reaction I was going to have. And sure enough, at each number, I had that reaction. It was amazing.

I walked out of the session feeling like a new person.


I have a job interview with PriceWaterhouse Cooper Consulting tomorrow. Big, high-payin' ho type job. Don't really want the job, but will check it out, nail the interview, and then try to use it as leverage to get a raise from where I am. Don't feel bad about this at all. I'm worth every penny they pay me!

Except those days when I am on IRC the whole day.

[Ross White]

AC4: Friday

3/5 of Meat Lodge went over to UNC to poke around the alma mater while Bill was in class; I headed over to open ComedyWorx. Mike Baumann was in the parking lot; Larry Howard arrived with Andre in tow. Green Bay wandered in. Introductions. Excitement. It was cool to feel like we were creeping closer, but it hadn't quite started yet. Somehow.

We fired up a new shortform games workshop, which was cool. The Green Bay guys had some cool stuff, but I had to jet-- Meat Lodge practice at 1:30. My one regret for the weekend was that I missed Andre's confidence workshop at 3:00... because I felt like it would do me a lot of good, and because I think it hurt his feelings that I didn't make it.

Meat Lodge practiced in my driveway because it was a damn nice day and that afforded us more room. We didn't make the strong connections that we had the night before; maybe because we were out in the sun, or maybe because we just weren't listening as well. But we had a damn fine time, and we started editing a little more efficiently.

We hopped in the car and joined a group of 22 for dinner... a group that included the rest of the Buffalo gang (Randy & Karen Resse, Julie Oesch, Alan Baumgardner, and Jeremy Hardwick, who is one of the coolest 18-year-old kids I have ever met). Why is it that improvisors choose the greasiest foods possible before shows? Self-loathing?

Then, back down to the club for some shows! John Betz and Dave Rockwell from DC arrived just before the 7:30 show they were slated to perform in, and the Richmond team pulled up in their giant comedy van. That was when it really felt like a real festival. All the old friends were in the house.

Highlights:

• Green Bay pulled out the guitar for a game of Ballad. Raleigh countered with a gothic horror scene. Later, Raleigh captain Matt Cunningham said, "Well, at that point, you just sit back and smile. You can't beat a guitar."
• Ben Moser, masquerading as Joey Greene with the DC kids, pulled up with the best groaner of the weekend.
• Green Bay's Ken Goiltz had an ear-to-ear smile that would not stop. He looked like he was having enough fun for all of us.
• A lot of the newer improvisors from our club crowded around the back of the room, and there was this quiet awe punctuated by laughter. You could tell that they were really stoked by seeing new approaches and different improvisors for the first time.

Meat Lodge snuck out into the parking lot not too long after that show ended. I was a little sour, because the house manager, who is normally really on top of things, was discombobulated and pissy, like having other teams in from out of town had changed every little thing he normally does, and he needed me to make his decisions for him. I really wanted to enjoy more of the first show, but I kept getting asked to do cruise-director-y things.

So I needed a long warmup. We just started building, and within two minutes, I think we were all charged. That first show warmup was the tightest we'd gotten thusfar, and we walked into the club ready to rock. It was awesome.

We watched the tail end of CHiPs's show, and I thought they did some things really well. But what stuck out at me was that it felt like I was watching college improv (which I was, so that was fair). They had some really talented people, but the worldview felt a little bit limited. It made me want them to work with a director, which I don't think they do. But all in all, I wanted to see some more of them, and I really need to be more attentive to catching their shows when Bill performs with them, and when Jon Karpinos returns from Europe. (I am firmly of the opinion that most any group would benefit from those two guys. They are top-notch, and nice guys to boot. They keep talking about a two-man show when Jon comes back, directed by Greg Hohn. I can't wait.)

The Meat Lodge show was crazy fun. Dan started us off on the right foot, and things built slowly, deliberately, out from the original suggestion. We didn't reincorporate a whole lot, but we found games and played them. It was the most tremendous sense of trust that I have felt on stage in ages. Probably since the last time I had played with Anthony. More complete than Destroy All Monsters. Somewhere mid-show, I had this realization from the back line (which was actually two side lines) that the true strength of this team was that each of us does one thing well-- far better than the others-- but we bring the other four up to our level when we combine those strengths. It was awesome.

It was the first show I have ever performed in that no one ever introduced us as individuals.

We went out for drinks with the Kansas City folks (Dan Walsh, Linda Williams, and Clancy Hathaway), who'd just arrived, most of the Richmond gang, and Mike B. Then adjourned to my place, where Charlie, Dan, Anthony and I were up until 3:30 talking about the first shows.

I dreamt one of our scenes went well past the edit, and Charlie made me start laughing so hard that I caught on fire.

[Ross White]

Had a 70's porno moment today.

No, I wasn't looking at 70's porno.

I was out mowing the lawn in 95 degree heat, so I had the shirt off, suntan lotion on, and was nasty nasty. The neighbor chick from across the street rolls out while I'm mowing the patch nearest her house. She's wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a tank top, and she starts watering her flowers. Bending over a lot. Ass in the air, or deliberately looking up at me. If she didn't live with the creepiest guy in the neighborhood, I would have gone over there for sheer comic value. But I do have a thing against finding my dick in the bathtub and a creepy neighbor standing over me with scissors. Which seems eminently possible with this guy.

Aced the interviews with all 3 people from PriceWaterhouse Coopers today. That felt really good. Then the Hurricanes beat the Devils 2-1 and the ESA was hopping.

A definite 70's porno day. Yeah. (Well, not really, since I didn't bang any of the interviewers. But almost.)

[Ross White]

AC4: Saturday (Part I)

Linda Williams from KC wanted to have a quick pow-wow in the morning with managers and full-time comedy employees, and somehow I ended up there. Richard Gardner, who owns ComedyWorx, Christine Walters and Eric Mays from Comedy Alley, and Linda and Clancy Hathaway from Comedy City. We mostly rapped about marketing, longform, and comedy summercamps for kids. Comedy Alley has a great gig going with their arena football team-- they swapped ad space and promotions, and do things for each other. Comedy Alley folks appear at the Speed football games, and the dance team for the Speed appears in Comedy Alley's ComedySportz shows. (I went up one weekend for that because Christine was light on people. I expected the experience to be difficult but it was great and really positive.) They also swap seats for shows and games and what not. A really nice package. Christine and Eric also hooked up with the Richmond Braves for a similar deal.

By noon, the high school leaguers started rolling in, so we wrapped up the chat and started setting up for the Richmond HS league vs. the Raleigh HS league. Our group was really pumped-- they're only 12 weeks into their improv careers, and they were getting the chance to perform in a tournament. It was neat to see that kind of awe and freshness. I think everyone else there was excited, but those guys really ate it up. They responded with great listening, better patience than they have previously displayed, and complete trust in Jeremy Hardwick, who sat in with them for the show. I was proud.

The Richmond HS'ers were more polished. All three-- Mesha McDermott, Megan Graham, and Danny Clingenpool-- played with Christine and Eric in other shows throughout the weekend. I would have crapped myself to do that stuff at 17.

4/5 of Meat Lodge was in the 4:45 show as Team New York. We had a chance to play against the Raleigh posse for that show, and during our warmups, we really got going on a Raleigh warmup called Potpourri... a mish-mash of calls and responses that have been created over the years. Anthony, Dan, and Charlie pulled out a couple of oldies that I had not seen in years, and we got fired up! Everyone else in the room asked us to teach them the game sometime, which I'm afraid we can't! It wouldn't have the same effect! You have to create your own.

There was a really loose feeling about playing with Team New York, even in the shortform show. It never felt like reaching, and we played goofy stuff. (Our Game-O-Matic, which was titled "Ooooo," ended up being a chance to pimp the audience. It was a situation where everyone involved had a blast, fully cognizant that the improv we were doing was not too many steps up from a game in which everyone just falls down repeatedly.) It confirmed that Anthony King is my favorite person in the world to play with.

The Green Bay gang played with Austin/Kansas City in the second half of that show. I generally tend to think of pixies as being women, but Dan Walsh is definitely pixie-ish. I laughed a ton. Lots of silliness.

[Ross White]

AC4: Saturday (Part II)

Somewhere during the 4:45 show, Jack Spencer came and brought his old couch for the green room, and we took the old Cronkniture sofa out by the dumpster. Someone, I think maybe Andy Berendht from Green Bay, realized that this would be a great place to hang out, so we began spending as much time on the trash couch as on the new one.

It was on the couch that I realized I could take my crush on Green Bay's Carrie Masse to silly extremes. I'd already told her jokingly that since I thought she ruled, I was going to add her name to the list of teams people could vote on. I'd already added her name to that list and plotted how I would be able to add some votes as the board admin. And since her reactions were so sweetly comical, I'd already told her (and anyone who would listen) that she was my new crush. So, while on the couch, I told her we were getting married when our age difference was no longer creepy, which I guessed would be another 21 years. (She'd be 40, I'd be 48.)

Team Chicago borrowed our I Heart NY shirts and taped over the NY with "Chi." It was Zach Ward and Beth Melewski from Dual Exhaust, and they picked up Bill Cochran for a third player to make it look more ComedySportz-y. They looked like they were having an absolute blast. They played an Alphabet Genre that became all about falling down with this really wonderful, almost childlike in Zach's case, conviction that made me think that everyone should do shortform and longform, just to have fun with the differences.

By then, I was dead on my feet, and after Green Bay played Buffalo, I ended up on the couch with Carolyn Gillespie and Carrie from Green Bay, Jeremy Hardwick from Buffalo and John Betz from DC. A lot of sitting upside down.

I kept zipping inside throughout the afternoon, because we had set up a place for fans and players to vote online for their favorite team, who would face Raleigh in the championship. Sooner or later, noticing that we had maybe 100 total votes, with each club averaging 12 or so, someone called home and got all their friends to register real quick and vote. Pretty soon, Richmond and Buffalo were well over a hundred votes in the lead, and I suggested to a couple of the other managers that they might as well try the same tactic. We went from 100 total votes to around 900 in an hour (with scads of new registered users... a few of whom have come back to the boards, which kind of amazes me).

I was pretty bummed that the spirit of the competition had been violated, because I thought it would be cool if people who'd seen the shows had the chance to vote on the team they wanted to see more of. So that it turned into a game of "We have more folks with internet access that we could reach on a Saturday night" was a big disappointment. I almost felt like wanting to play to that extreme missed the point of the weekend.

Green Bay won eventually with a last-minute nudge. Which was cool, because they'd had a pretty solid lead before the ballot stuffing began, and I suspect that a lot of the Raleigh players had voted for them. (I could go check, but why bother?)

I did, of course, use my admin privleges to go in and fix it so that Carrie had more votes than any team in the final standings.

Richmond and Austin/KC played an hour-and-a-half first half, which was capped by a monumentally long but entertaining Musical Chairs. At the end of the half, Jorin Garguilo awarded Austin/KC with the childhood soccer trophy of Karl Rectanus. You know, so it wasn't just the second half of the show that meant something.

The name Rectanus got laughs again.

[Ross White]

A picture of the young lady from my class last week who looked like Bends-era Thom Yorke. She wasn't wearing glasses for much of the session, mind you.



Yesterday was a singularly unimpressive day. I expect today to be better, as I am cutting out at 3 PM to drink beer with Ben before we see game 2 of the Devils/Hurricanes series.

I expect to one day forfeit my autonomy. Good while it lasts.

[Ross White]

AC4: Saturday (Part III)

Meat Lodge was firing on all cylinders. We had a much more relaxed show Friday, but Saturday, we began finding connections and reincorporating a little better-- particularly Charlie and Bill-- and it was a stronger show. I wondered how the crowd would respond to us right off the bat, as opposed to when they'd had another group to warm them up. Answer: Positively.

We'd started 20 minutes late because the 9:45 show ran so long, so when we finished our set, Dual Exhaust went up right away. We missed the first two or three minutes. Which bummed me out, because I would very much like to have seen the full nine yards. They were amazing. Trust, confidence, amazing recall and listening... everything about Dual Exhaust was incredible. I could hardly believe that I was watching the same Zach Ward that had left Chapel Hill a few years before... but then, I wasn't. I was watching an older, more patient, more trusting Zach Ward than had left. I was proud to see what he'd become. And that he'd found the perfect yin to his yang in Beth Melewski, whose patience and dark slant fuel Zach's best qualities perfectly.

Best single line of the new century: "I'm not breaking up, I'm just putting limits on the solidarity of our relationship."

That show made me consider kidnapping Anthony or just moving to NYC.

The Dual Exhaust show ended at 1:20, and people began adjourning to Matt Cunningham's house. I said goodbye to a couple of folks who were headed home and wouldn't make it to the party or the Sunday workshop. Green Bay began the 23 1/2 hour trek home, after my unsuccessful attempts to sway both Carrie and Andy to stay in Raleigh forever.

I stuck around to help clean up for a bit, then headed out to my car to go to Matt's. As I was walking, by myself, I had the most uncontrollable urge to laugh out loud, at nothing in particular. I wore a smile so big that it actually began to hurt all the way to Matt's.

It was a quiet gathering-- about 20-25 people. I drank a few beers out on the porch with Matt, Jason Matthews, Ben Moser, and Zach and Beth. Went inside about 3:00, joined the larger group for an hour, then headed home at 4:30. As I was getting my car, Sarah Garguilo told me that Meat Lodge had upped the bar for her, which I took as a tremendous compliment, though I was a little mystified as to how anyone who saw that show would rave about anything other than Dual Exhaust.

I had to dig my fingernails into the back of my neck to stay awake on the way home. I broke the skin.

Got home, and started tallying up the votes for the superlatives. Fell asleep on my floor somewhere around 5:30 or 6:00.

[Ross White]

AC4: Sunday

Woke up at 10:00 to finish tallying the voting for the superlatives and to print up the certificates. Anthony called and asked if I would bring him a change of clothes. He and Dan had stayed at Matt's to play basketball. Headed over to the club for Charlie's scenework workshop.

I was exhausted and didn't get the full impact of the workshop, and it was a little anticlimactic since Andre and Anthony were the only out-of-towners there. AC4 was definitely over.

We did the awards ceremony during a smokebreak at 1:30, because I figured that the group that was there was all we were going to have. A few people showed up around three and were sorry that they missed it. Richard gave me a framed picture of all the teams that everyone had signed as a show of appreciation for arranging the whole thing, and I almost cried because I thought that was so cool.

Charlie and I headed back here and I changed my AC filters, then we watched the Neutrino Video Harold that Kurt had sent along. That blew my mind. I just watched it for the second time today, and was awake enough to appreciate it more, but the mechanics of pulling off a video harold in 25 minutes blew my mind. Those guys are my new heroes.

Anthony rejoined us, and Ben Moser and Jason Matthews met up with us for the Dual Exhaust show at East Chapel Hill HS. You could tell that Zach was thrilled to be in Chapel Hill, because he kept referencing Chapel Hill landmarks (to Beth's obvious confusion-- to her credit, she barreled right on through and it almost felt like a game she was playing, whether or not Zach was aware of it). Some of the CHiPs folks were in attendance; you can tell Zach still has a lot invested in that group.

We all headed over to Linda's for a few beers, but I was spent. Jason, Ben and I went to Triangle Billiards for some pool around 10:30; I fell asleep in the back seat of Jason's car and the next moment at which I was fully awake, I already had a pool cue in one hand and a beer in the other.

I took Charlie and Anthony to the airport at 5:45 Monday morning, came home, and took the day off to sleep and relax. It was Thursday before I felt really awake again. And then, we planned ImProm.

[Ross White]

I gave Miss Kitty some Savory Salmon Feast tonight, and she better freaking enjoy it, because this whole house smells like Savory Salmon Feast. Upstairs and down. The place is probably 85 degrees upstairs; I turned the AC off when I discovered that the insulation on one of the outside pipes had busted and it was caked in ice. I poured cool water over the pipe, which slowly melted off the outside ice, and left the unit off a few hours in hopes that whatever's inside would melt. No dice. Will leave it off all night.

In this moment of suburban pathos, "Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangsta" just came on the mp3 queue. Ugh.

I have my first appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow. I'm tired of feeling like shit all the time. My officemate Duff convinced me to go to this guy, drawing the analogy that if I felt like crap and suspected I was diabetic, I would go to the doctor and get insulin rather than trying to tough it out. God bless Duff Coburn.

Actually, in a kind of weird way, Dyna Moe's journal has as much to do with my impetus towards being a normal person again. God bless Dyna Moe's journal, and by extension, Dyna Moe.

Richard Gardner, who owns ComedyWorx, told me last night that he plans to see a Cagematch when he goes to Chicago in a few weeks. He was surfing around the net after the AC4, researching longform, and found the rules. He told me that Meat Lodge and Dual Exhaust convinced him that we should be doing this stuff. So, all of the sudden, the casual inquiry a few days ago in the improv forum is a lot more formal. (Sadly, only one person responded to that after 100 views, and it was Dan from Meat Lodge.)

WHOO-HOO! Come to Raleigh, longform, come to Raleigh.

I will most assuredly dream of Savory Salmon Feast.