Memorial Day

Memorial Day – by Richard Lett

I was in New York a week at this point. I was there looking for something. Legitimacy. Stand-up Comedy has it’s very beginnings in New York City. I needed to taste it. Get that smell on me.

There are more than a dozen full time comedy clubs in Manhattan, but less than half are of real significance. Gotham, the Comedy Cellar, Caroline’s, the Improv, the Village, and StandUp New York. The only one of these that returned my call was StandUpNY. Jody told me I could do a set on Tuesday if I could bring 10 people who would pay cover and a 2 drink minimum. Talking off the top of my head – I said how about six? I had, the guy I met on the bus, and old girlfriend, and Costa, the Greek guy I was staying with. Out of them I should be able to at Least 6 people. Jody said that six would be fine, but she reminded me, that if my peeps don’t show, not only will I not get on, but they won’t like me anymore.

Not being an American, I had no idea that memorial day weekend would be the time period between this call and the show. Two things I learned; 1. New Yorkers take their long weekends very seriously, they all leave. And 2. memorial day is a war memorial and perfectly good reason for terrorists to attack again, and so Manhattan was armed to the teeth under orange alert.
I phoned my daughter, she was eight. I said “We’re under Orange Alert!” She said, “that sounds pretty!”

Tuesday arrived, and it was apparent by about 2pm that NO ONE was coming to my show. They had all begged off, pointing out that being the day after a long weekend, no one wants to go out. A sense of doom overtook me as I sat Hell’s Kitchen in a memorial park, (this time for the fireman of 911). A strange homeless woman, showed me an article from a newspaper she found about an invention. I left to buy a pretzel, (my exclusive diet by this time in my tour), and as I left she said, “God Bless You”.

With still several hours to go, I checked my subway map, and the only thing between me and the club, was Central Park. I had observed Central park from it’s perimeter, but hadn’t actually gone in it. Seemed as good a time as any.

What I discovered was that Central Park, a place to be mugged or murdered, as I had heard it’s lore, was in fact, one of the most beautiful parks in the world. I was overwhelmed by each turn that would reveal a dozen ball parks, or a lake. I sat at strawberry fields and wondered what John Lennon had wondered there.

As I walked along a wooded path, I realized how quiet it was. The constant cacophony of the city was gone, and in place with somewhere around 12 million people I was alone. I thought , almost out loud, “how strange to be in such a beautiful place, and have no one to share it with. To be alone. And then a voice spoke, and I swear it was a clear as my father over my shoulder telling me to slow down. This voice said, “You’re not alone”. I believe I have felt that presence before, but never so clearly.

I said, “If this is it Lord. If all I get from telling my little jokes is to come here to see this beautiful place, then I’m good. “ Then I found a large rock, sat on it, took off my boots, and prayed. Prayed my ass off. Then I thought, well if I do get on the show, and I fuck up, what difference does it make? So worked my 7 minute set. And then I walked to the club.

When I got to the club, the show before mine was just ending. Pasted on the board, along with several other names was Richard Lett. I avoid meet Jody and go into the show. The headliner is a guy in western gear named Dustin. “I lived in a trailer court, I’ve had sex with my cousin, I’ve seen a UFO – I’m from Texas!”

I talked to him after the show. I ask him what happens if your people don’t show. He said, “Why are they late?” I said “No, I think they’re in Vancouver.” “Oh, well, tell ‘em there late and maybe they’ll let you on anyway…”

Right then Jody walks up. “Richard, where are your people? It’s quarter to, they’re s’posed to be here by now.” “I think they’re late.” “Well can you call them?” I said, “sure”.

I stepped outside with my dead cell phone to my ear, pacing and looking at my watch, when out of the dark bounded these two beautiful blonde young girls. “Oh here it is!” one of them squealed as they beamed at me. An older man followed up behind. I said, “Are you here to see the comedy?” “Yes” they squealed, jumping up and down excitedly. I said ”Are you here to see anyone one in particular?” “No just the comedy.”

I don’t know if this idea has ever been used before in the history of New York comedy and it’s “bringer shows”, but I swear had just acted on impulse. I said, “Are you sure you’re not here to see …” I pointed to my name on the sign,” Richard Lett?”.

The girls looked a me, and bit hard. They’re eyes sparkling like stars. “Are you Richard Lett?”. I smiled. “Yes, yes. We’re here to see Richard Lett!!!” The father of the two, obvious by his tired but enthusiastic smile, stood behind them on the street. I said to him, “Would you mind telling them at the box office, that you’re here to see me.” He said “Sure, as soon as the rest of our people get here…” At that moment a cab pulled up, and three guys jump out. Jody walks out as I stand there with my six guests. I grin and she says, “I knew you peeps would show” and I was on.

Nobody bothered to ask how this family from Biloxi Mississippi knew this comedian from Vancouver, but being the Tuesday night after a long weekend, they represented a full third of the audience, and that’s all that mattered.

That bartender comped me a Jack and Coke cause I was on the show, and I was sitting at the bar going over my notes in my book when Ellen Cleghorn came in. Very recognizable from her years on Saturday Night Live, she was there to do a set, and so a few comics got bumped. Not me though, I had my people out there. As Ellen is getting ready to go on she looks over at me with my book and beams a smile. “It’s all funny. I can tell.” Then she goes on. I look at the barkeep and say “Wow”. He agrees with a nod.

While Ellen is on Carolyn Rhea shows up, and if backstage wasn’t buzzing before, it is now. Jody walks around telling some other comics the bad news, and then she walks up to me. “Carolyn’s probably gonna do about half and hour, then you’re on for seven. “ “That’s cool” “Well at least you people get to see a great show.” “True”.

Carolyn does a half and then Jody intro’s me. My set is hot, my people love it and as I’m closing I can see a crowd of comics gathering to watch – me, I think. As I walk offstage I find out what the hubbub is. A kid I was chatting with grabbed my arm as soon as I got off. “Chris Rock is here.”

And sure enough he was. He followed with an hour. As I watched him, I was surprised at how tiny he is. I looked over at my to Buloxi angels and they waved and gestured that Chris was boring them. I smiled.

As Chris closed I shook his hand. The girls were on me immediately about how funny I was and I was way better than Chris Rock. As I stood surrounded by my newly acquired fan club, Chris walked by. I said “Mister Rock, can I ask you something. He stopped. And then I asked him the only question I knew he’d say no to. I have wondered why ever since. I said “Can I take your picture.” He said,”No” and left.

As the girls continued their assertions that I was better than him and I explained that he had been working on new material, and I was doing my “A” stuff, I realized, that on that day, it wasn’t about Chris Rock, on that day it was about Richard Lett.
A memorial day for sure.