" ...we bumped into each other at the continental breakfast in the lobby of the Hampton Inn and Jimmy Walker, his girlfriend and I shared a table for few hours..."
Anything But the D-Word, Dec 7, 1999
It's like my old life again. Sunday coffee and the hoax at an independent coffee house, a gym and swim later, before the show, then the show, one show, in front of a decent sized crowd. I worked with Jimmy Walker this week- he played JJ on Good Times in the seventies and to this day, people shout out Dynomite to him. The Beastie Boys sampled it, everyone knows it. At first I thought he didn't like me, but we bumped into each other at the continental breakfast in the lobby of the Hampton Inn and Jimmy Walker, his girlfriend and I shared a table for few hours.
At one time he kept a staff of 22 writers, including Jay Leno and David Lettermen, off the streets and if he'd been an actor instead of a comic, he'd probably be dead right now. Comics rarely kill themselves; they go on the road instead. Actors have to wait for someone to give them something before they can eat and that is why they are crazy. Actors with half the fame Jimmy Walker had when Good Times was the number one sitsom in America have hung, shot or overdosed themselves when their tv show went off the air.
He's a club comic right now and despite, as he correctly points out, you can't even
give comedy away, that's pretty cool. You can't be on top forever, unless you're Tom and Nicole, and where will you land when your ride is over? Working, pulling out the notebooks and doing topical stuff up front; hey, it could be worse.
I finally get what the coastal comics meant when they said, the road, oh! I used to think they were snobs. You can talk about whatever you want, I protested, you're underestimating them, they're people just like you. Uh, no. Easily, ninety percent of the crowds this week were people totally unlike me. Moms being beeped by their babysitters, girls night's outs, bachelor and bachelorettes parties, 401k's and minimum wage jobs. They were white, and they looked like how my hometown looked ten years ago, before the internet economy turned the Bay Area into one big fat Pottery Barn. A few minorites poked their heads through the polyester ceilings but the only foreign accents I heard were Southern.
Talking about New York is not appreciated. Most people haven't been to it, and when you describe it, you can feel them thinking, why not live here instead! It's clean, nobody will steal your hubcaps and our rent is reasonable!
Dolly Parton and Charo are on my mind today. Charo is, or was, a great flamenco guitarist and Dolly is a great songwriter. Those aren't their most salient qualities, but when you're finished with the bosom and the accent and the hair, well, those gals can really crank out some tunes. If Dolly had stuffed her breasts into minimizer bras, left her hair dark and straight and worn clothes that she thought would force the audience take her seriously as an artist, well, I think she'd be in a suburb of St Louis writing a hoax for www.parton.com. Dolly is on my mind because I'm wearing vinyl pants onstage and flirting with 22 year old boys, (onstage), and getting used to my body and all this after twenty years of being awkward.
When I don't try to hide my chest, it, or they, have to be dealt with. Ladies and gentlemen if the internet, it's quite a package. You probably can't tell from my headshots, but lots is going on just beneath my neck. I was moritfied as a teenager because I was a swimmer. I had a higher calling and I wanted to be a sleek Olympic athlete not a silly girl, and I've always been at least annoyed by these things I have to bind in tight lace every god damn morning.
When my posture is correct and my sweater tight, there is tension in the audience. Men are dying to shout something and their women are pinching them, saying, if you do it, Jim-Bob, I'll fucking kill you. And then one idiot lets loose and I trash him until he can't walk without assistance and everyone lets out a big sigh of relief. The baby was burped and now the show can begin.
