The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

Veteran comics like to gently let you know that there is no rainbow or happy ending in the world of comedy. I can remember this conversation very well. It was said to me everynight by this one particular comic. It was sad, funny, and scary all in the same breath. The scene was an East Village diner and once again I had to be set straight.

"You bucktooth bozo, retard. Sometimes I think you are smart. Then I'm like, this kid never gets it. Don't you see? No one makes it. No one is happy. Look at all the guys who walk around with their Tonight Shows and Lettermans. They are miserable and clueless. You want to be like them?"

I’m silent and I shrug my shoulders as the rant continues.

"First of all no one wants to put you on TV with those big wet lips of yours and your orangutan chest. Wipe your lips for godsake, I can't look at you."

The words have stung. I am a beaten man and you can look at the discomfort in my face. My demeanor is too sensitive to hear these words. And now, the vet comic changes his tune. He sees he has gotten to me and broken my spirit.

"I'll tell you what. I tell this stuff because I love you and I care about you. I'll buy you wings, you fuck."

I certainly oblige to the free wings. Now you have seen the picture of me eating the chicken tender on the website. Obviously the comic has a few more choice words.

"When you eat, don't look at me. I can't see you devour those things. You’re making a mess!”

I just laugh.

So, I hear these words about how comedy is this tough business. How no one makes it. How the guys who are the best in the city are depressed loners without a clue on how to improve their career. But, I really don't care. I take one day at a time and enjoy performing. I have dreams too. This sounds corny but I do. Comedy makes me happy. I've had shitty day jobs. I've been in the hospital for brain surgery. That’s rough. Not comedy. It’s this beautiful passion that many of us dysfunctional characters have embraced. I'd be lost without it.

Tonight I showed the veteran comic my website and he couldn't get passed the teeth picture. "That is the most frightening thing I have ever seen," he said.

But hey I'm a lot tougher now. I just laugh when he tries to rip me and bring me down. I'll never forget all the times at the diner when he tried to tell me comedy was a dead end. He totally doesn't get it.

Matty

Searching for Gilbert Gottfried

I was going to write this blog about a comic I hate. But I'm not in the mood, so I've lost all motivation to spew hate. And, there are a few comics who I know that read this and probably think I’m talking about them. But it’s not you. This person doesn't know this website exists.

So, let’s talk about Gilbert Gottfried. One of my favorite comics. He is just one of those oddball guys who brings his real life to the stage. He is also a riot on the Howard Stern Show. That’s where he really shines.

Here is my one problem with him. It’s when people compare our looks. I measure what girls think about me by the celebrity they say I resemble most. On a rare occasion I’ve been compared to Elvis Costello, or Ben Stiller. I figure I have a shot. If a girl says JERRY LEWIS, or Rick Moranis I know I'm in trouble. But, worst of all if she says I look like Gilbert Gottfried. She thinks I'm a real freak.

I love Gilbert, but lets be honest, he ain't exactly George Hamilton. Ok, so where is this going? A friend and I are walking on 46th and 8th and she thinks that Gilbert Gottfried is standing in front of us. My first reaction is it’s a lookalike, but now I'm staring. It could be him. The eyes are squinted, the hair is short and his wardrobe is really bad. He has a "Who's Afraid of The Dark" backpack and a MTV hat on. Items he most likely got for free. Something Gilbert is notorious for. Smooching on free stuff.

So we are staring at him trying to figure out if it’s him or not. My friend is convinced. I'm not. After staring him down for 5 minutes we walk a block away, but this compulsion brings us back towards him as I once again study whether its Gilbert or not. He is just standing on the street corner waiting. He has no idea that 5 feet away my friend and I are looking him up and down. My friend is offering me money to ask him if he is Gilbert.

But I think of the consequences. If someone pegs you for a Gilbert lookalike you are probably real ugly. And I don't want to take the chance of humiliating this person if he is not Gilbert. That can ruin a day. Finally, an older lady shows up (possibly Gilbert's mom) and they head into a diner. My chance to meet him is over and I feel upset. My friend is pissed too. Not everyday do you get to see a Gilbert Gottfried.

What I realized was I'd much rather meet Gilbert than the President or even a bad actress like Jennifer Aniston. Gilbert is my type of guy. Just don't say I look like him. The search continues for Gilbert.

Matty

What Are We Fighting For???

One of my all time favorite movies is “The Warriors.” It’s a real goofy movie about a street gang from Coney Island that gets accused of killing the Almighty Cyrus (he is the leader of all street gangs). My favorite part of the movie is at the near-end when the Warriors have just arrived back to Coney Island after fighting every street gang in NYC. It is dawn and you can see the ferris wheel in the background. It’s a bleak scene of a run down place with lost hopes and dreams.

"This is what we fought for? All This. We fought so hard and this is what we come home to?" says the leader of the Warriors. You can hear the disappointment in his voice.

What does this have to do with comedy?

Well, some nights I feel this way. I'm in a dark, dirty, grungy comedy club waiting to go on. And, I'm fighting so hard to move up and get better time slots so 20 people will see me instead of 10.

And then there are those nights that it all makes sense. Last night I'm at this great new club and I'm going up on a major headliner show. Two of my very good friends come to see me and they bring along two guests who are eager to see me. I have a very strong set to a great crowd and I remember why I love this.

I’m sitting in a pizza shop just talking comedy with my friends. This beautiful rush of glee is still in my body. On second thought I love the dirty, dark smell of the comedy club. And I’m sure the Warriors loved Coney Island.

On another note, I'm getting e-mails from people asking me if the merchandise is real. Absolutely is. Feel free to stock up on Matty items.

Matty