Archive for June, 2010

It’s odd that I don’t go to more comedy shows. Comedy in all forms — sketches, stand-up, parody — is actually one of my favorite things. I spend hours watching clips online of all of the above, I’ve been known to rent/own the occasional stand-up DVD, but I think in my entire life I’ve seen less than a dozen live comedy shows. And most of those, let’s be honest, have been media comps over the last five or six years.

Such was last night’s visit to Brad Garrett’s Comedy Club at the Tropicana, a space with which I’m pretty familiar, because for years before the gargantuan funnyman’s name adorned its marquee, it was known as the Comedy Stop (which recently moved south on the Strip to the Sahara). The revamped club opened just this week, with Garrett as the first headliner. Not much has been done to the space, which retains its old-school Vegas adornments — dark wood, sight line-blocking pillars, giant, ornate chandeliers — though rumor has it Garrett had the ceiling above the stage raised to accommodate his 6-foot-8-inch frame. Though he’ll obviously not be in the club all the time, it’s the only place in Vegas to see the Emmy-winning comedian for the next two years.

Last night’s show was pretty good, the room packed with a mix of paid attendees and invited guests, including poker star Annie Duke, a friend of the poker-loving Garrett. But she was about the only person immune to Garrett’s roasting of the crowd, from the unfortunate folks seated front row to the ubiquitous Robin Leach, who, unbeknown to Garrett, threw quite the temper tantrum when his party arrived late to the club to find their seats unavailable. To be fair, we arrived a few minutes before showtime and already there were almost no seats left, but we didn’t have an entourage of questionably sourced young blonde vixens, nor a grating English accent with which to berate the Tropicana’s president.

But despite that nonsense, a good time was had by all, as evidenced by the nonstop, riotous laughter throughout the room. Garrett, humorously mean the whole while, took out the time to answer audience questions after his set, encouraging an interactivity that really made the whole night feel more like a big roast for good friends rather than just a trip to the local comedy club.

One major complaint — and this may be sorted out after the Tropicana’s extensive transformation into a South Beach-style resort is complete — is that Garrett’s club is damn hard to find, hidden behind a labyrinthine series of executive offices, salons and hallways on the casino’s upper level. Signage is iffy and vague, and even though I’ve been to the club a few times before, it was still disorienting to say the least. But maybe that’s part of the charm, the last vestige of that Vegas “insider” feeling guests boasted back in the “old days.” Or maybe Garrett and his rotating lineup of wise guys just want to make the yucks at the end of the journey worth all that much more.

It’s been a busy week. Last Friday, I attended the opening reception of “Unnatural History” at the Springs Preserve, immediately followed by a reception at the Arts Factory celebrating the 10th anniversary/vow renewal of my friends KC and Ryan. Saturday night was the Psychedelic Furs and She Wants Revenge concert at the House of Blues (after spending the day hosting a 1-year-old’s birthday party), and then Sunday night my band, As Yet Unbroken, played to a mostly-empty room at Boomers Bar.

That was not a bad thing, actually. The show on Sunday night was slated to feature four bands, two local and two from California. We showed up an hour early (9 p.m.) as instructed, met the lovely and helpful bartender/booker Tammy, and waited for the sound guy/doorman to show up. He never did. Instead, the bands (only three of us, the fourth slated act was mis-scheduled or double-booked or something) loaded out and set-up the P.A., and yours truly ended up playing sound guy all night. By the time we played (around 11:45 p.m.), it was just Tammy and about 5 or 6 of our friends/wives/etc. in the bar watching us — which was fine. It was like hanging out in a friend’s pimped-out basement jamming. A good warm-up show for the main attraction …

This Friday, at the Aruba Hotel, As Yet Unbroken will return to the Las Vegas N.O.I.S.E. Project to rock the big room. It’s free and open to all you motherlovers over 21, and we’ll be bringing our A game (or at least our B game). In addition, there are other bands, a communal drum circle, live sculpting and much more artsy nonsense. So you have no excuses. Unless you have to work. Or are in the hospital. Or on bed rest. But otherwise, get a babysitter and get your ass downtown, where we will proceed to rock it silly.

Oh, you should also get to the AYU website and vote on our next cover song. By June 30. Yep.

Oh, HI. I know it’s been quiet up here in Awesome City. It’s only because I’ve been slaving away at various projects to foist upon your delicate senses in varying ways. A brief rundown, because lists are fun:

• My band, As Yet Unbroken, has been breaking in our new guitarist, Peter Stauber, and we’ll be making our revived debut at Boomers Bar this Sunday night at about 10 p.m. We’re playing with a bunch of random bands, none of which play in the same style, so it’ll be like a mini-Lollapalooza. If that doesn’t sell it for you, I don’t know what will. Call in sick on Monday and come rock with us. It’s only $5, and allegedly, we get some of that money.
• I’m editing and publishing a one-off comic book anthology for the Vegas Valley Comic Book Festival called “Tales from the Boneyard.” It features all Vegas-spawned creators and will be awesome. But it also has meant spending the last month assembling the talent, setting deadlines, creating sponsorship proposals (this is a nonprofit fundraiser for the Library District), attending meetings and working on my own contribution to the compilation, an eight-page tale about a girl and a robot. If, by chance, you’d like to sponsor this endeavor, drop me an e-mail and I’ll drop you a sponsorship packet.
• I finished painting my terrible entry into the LVSK8 IV skate deck art show. It’s called “Powered by Love,” and all I will say for now is that with its existence, I have created a new genre of art called “sci-fi folk art.” If you’re so inclined to see it, along with dozens of other decorated skate decks much nicer than mine, you should come to Place Gallery (1054 S. Maint St.) next Friday, July 2. I’ll be there from 6 p.m. until probably 8 p.m.-ish.
• Speaking of art, because of demand from one or two people, I’ve created an online store where you can buy prints and postcards and stuff. Why not?
• Been trying to get way ahead on the usual workload, blazing through updates of The Utopian webcomic and deadlines for various publications. A new HRH cover story came out this past week, but I’ll slather you in the details once its digital edition goes online.

That wasn’t so hard, was it? See, all you have to do is get me started and I just type like a madman. More soon on new comics, shows and convention appearances. If you’re interested.

Do something for someone else every day.

This weekend has been somewhat of a bust. Sometimes I have really good, productive streaks. Sometimes I don’t. That’s the problem with working in creative fields: It’s kind of hard to force creativity. Oh, sure, deadlines often force something to happen, but that “something” isn’t always of quality.

Last week, I managed to get a lot of progress made on a variety of things, including plotting out the remaining 20 pages of The Utopian webcomic, story-boarding about 10 pages for various comics, developing a sponsorship packet for a new project and a few other random things I can’t recall right now. This week? I’ve been making progress on implementing the concepts generated last week, but have made no headway on developing anything fresh.

It’s weird how I weave in and out of productive states of creativity or inspiration. The muse rarely appears when you need her, though there are rare times — like during a caffeine-fueled visit to downtown Las Vegas’ newest independent coffee shop, The Beat, last week — when she guides your hand, unwittingly, for as long as you’re willing to have her.

So it’s back to the drawing board today. Literally (well, digitally literally), just doing layouts, finishes and colors on a variety of pages from both the Utopian and, seen above, a secret, new project that I’ll be telling you about very soon.