Day 86: Sun, sand and whatever dude

All 4 of us are off to Los Angeles tomorrow for 3 weeks. No, I didn’t land a coveted role opposite Judith Light in a Lifetime movie. We”re just going to check it out – part vacation, part work (hopefully). This means we have to get on a flight again. No matter how much you love your family, you don’t want to be in that close proximity to them for more than 25 minutes. We have to do it for 6 hours and we don’t have good seats. The 4 of us will be taking up row 30 on a 737 and basically ruining the flight for everyone else. If you wanna wager, the over/under on how many of us cry is 3. The kids will definitely both cry. There’s a 50/50 chance Lindsay will cry, and I’m sort of a wildcard – more likely to go the bathroom and hit myself in silence than to weep in public.

Im not even sure they’ll let me into LA with my skin tone and attitude. I’m like a giant albino downer. Do they have those in LA? Huge pale negative forces? Larry Flynt? Right, thanks.

We have a house rented in West Hollywood where most of the comedy clubs are. I’m looking forward to seeing just how bad it is out there. New York comics always come back from L.A. like they’re coming out of a bad acid trip, “Woh, dude, you do not want to be where I just was. SCARY.” I’ve heard there isn’t a whole lot of comedic integrity out there – a lot of people doing comedy to try and get noticed for their acting talent instead of people doing comedy for comedy’s sake.

I find all that odd, given that no one even pays attention to comedians who perform in clubs anymore. I think a better way to get noticed as an actor would probably be to go on auditions and make your own little web shorts to put on youtube or funnyordie.com. I don’t know, maybe I dont get it. I think the paradigm must have changed out there by now.

I don’t even have anything booked. I’ll probably just go hang out at cool shows and schmooze. The only problem with that idea is that I’m the worst schmoozer of all time. My tendency is to tell people what I know about them by following them on twitter, which basically makes them assume I’m a creepy stalker. In reality I’m just terrible at small talk. Well, I’m terrible at talk in general (bad for a comedian, I know) but I’m particularly bad at this thing called “conversation”.

Maybe I’ll just spend the whole time trying to get a tan and working on my abs. Safer that way. Wish us luck tomorrow, we need it.

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