I got my mind completely blown last night. Scored some last minute tickets with my buddies Jason and Kojo, got to see Chris Rock in concert at Constitution Hall. Had never seen him live before, what an experience. It was not dissimilar to the time I saw Seinfeld in that I was actually left physically overwhelmed by the raw quality of what I saw. About 45 minutes in, I found myself physically unable to laugh even though my brain was registering joke after joke after joke. The man did an hour and fifty minutes without breaking a sweat. I’ve never been at a comedy that was so long and so good I got second and third winds. It was almost like spending all day at church, only fun.
It was a 7:30 Monday night show and the three of us walked out at 10:30 feeling speechless and beat up. It was as if someone had been assaulting us in a dark room for the last three hours and then showed off pictures of our parents sleeping to scare us into keeping our mouths shut. I will never forget the soreness in my face, like a thousand cheek pinches from a thousand aunties; may have been the most sublime pain I have ever felt. Bottom line: the show was really really good.
While the show was outstanding in every way, it’s kinda tough for a young comic to fully enjoy a Chris Rock concert. After Rock talks about a topic, it often seems like there’s just no point to anybody else attempting to work that theme anymore. He can open and close the door on a subject all in the same show. As a comic, you may think you’re onto something, finding your voice, got a lead onto some new novel observation that’s going to turn the laughing world on it’s ear. You think you’ve discovered fire, you’re trying to remind yourself to not get cocky about it, but in your mind, you’re like
“This idea right here, this is Excalibur baby, they just ain’t ready…”.
Then you sit down for two hours and listen to some of the truest stuff you’ve ever heard in your life, stuff so true, some of it transcends being funny, like funny is beneath it. Even as you’re enjoying what you’re hearing, a part of you is gallantly but futilely fighting the strangest, sweetest despair
“…Hmm. What the hell am I going to talk about now? What are any of us going to talk about, really? Some of us may make money from time to time, but we ain’t pros. We on some ole’ hobby sh*t and it’s time to wake up… is it too late for me to get licensed as an architect?”
The jealous part of you just loses touch with sanity for a second, start thinking of stuff that doesn’t even make sense
“Ok, I can see I’m gonna have to break this mofo’s knees or something, see how he tells jokes from a chair… it’s hard to hold a mic AND crutches at the same time baby!”
Then he says something else funny and you forget what you were talking about
“Hahahahahaa, black women CAN be like that! We love em, but they know it’s true, tell it Chris! Wait… what was I saying again? Damn. I guess I better hit that notebook and get back to work.”
As much humor envy as I’m spouting right now, I really don’t want to lose sight of the fact that the show was amazing amazing amazing. The only truly agonizing moment of the evening was standing in the bathroom line during intermission, waiting to see if I’d get a urinal or a stall. I hate urinals. As a general rule I have no interest in being within 3 feet of another man while his pants are unzipped, yet urinals make sure this happens for me on a near-daily basis, yay me. I always end up standing next to some talkative middle-aged ass-clown who wants to pretend like it’s normal to discuss the Redskins coaching staff while your genitals are exposed.
My favorite part is the whole show-us-what-you-got thing, the discomfited faceoff between the “grow-ers” and the “show-ers”, you ladies just don’t know what you’re missing. You can tell all the “show-ers” because they stand back like they’re at a shooting range and make a super-demonstrative display about shaking off so everybody can see in their periphery, very obnoxious, and a little traumatic. You can tell all the “grow-ers” because they look around a lot and get up close like they’re about to break into a car, a very nice car in a neighborhood they have no business being in. Some guys get their hips so deep into the porcelain surround, it looks like they’re trying to make a baby with the commode. Whether you’re a “show-er” or a “grow-er” the whole affair is shameful and dehumanizing. Ladies should really cut men a break the next time they want to pummel their men for misbehaving. It’s no wonder we act like immature animals, that’s exactly what they make us pee like.
My name is Mike and I spent part of an incredible evening with Chris Rock watching other men relieve themselves.
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