Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

3 Dec

Going to Cleveland last month for the Fifth (Fifth!) Annual Cleveland Comedy (Annual!) Festival was a handful and then some of laughs. Many know how it came about, but what matters is that it was a good time.

I had the pleasure of being driven down, safe in the backseat, by comedienne of note, Steph Tolev, while all-around person Eric Andrews sat in front of me, and I couldn’t see what he was doing but it didn’t seem to matter.

The big decision early on was how many pairs of pants to take. Thankfully, on the morning of departure, there was some delay with my being picked up from the café, allowing me time enough to return home and remove the jeans I’d been wearing for the jeans that had been in my bag.

There had been several considerations.

The jeans are of similar make and style and colour, although one is a 31-inch waist, while the other is a 32. I thought, “certainly I enjoy traveling light, but I’m not sure just which pair of pants at this point really are my pants, so why be condemned to the possibly wrong pair of pants for an entire weekend when you want to enjoy yourself, not to mention feel comfortable standing before audiences? The fact that your only serviceable pair of shoes are uncomfortable doesn’t enter into it.”

The pants (i.e. the two of them) were purchased maybe a half a year ago in Montreal, during one of my many weekend trips there for various reasons, at a time when I felt in need of pants. Although it’s not a good story, basically I wasn’t sure which size to get. In the end, not taking any of the salesperson’s arguably professional advice into consideration, I decided to get both, and then figure it out later. (Of course, one of the last things one may want is to be constantly making this same decision each and every morning, as opposed to just once, but, then, this has been a life, more or less, of essentially always just really pushing aside any real moment of actual decision-making.)

Anyway, so I think that I ended up removing the slightly larger pair for the slightly smaller pair, and then putting the pants-removed down onto the floor. And then I left the house, if I recall. But, if I did, then I then went back in, and picked it up off the floor and put in into my bag. (Again, never really committing.) It felt ridiculous being in the car ride down in the tighter pants, but, then, I understood that if it were to turn out that the other ones were actually the better pair, then it’d be great to be able to change, upon arrival, into a “fresh” pair.

It was a great weekend, and I spent it all in the bigger pair. And, now, having had all that time to know that I feel better in one pair more than the other, I’m really not nearly as much concerned with the question of which one to wear as I was before. (As I write this, I’m actually in a third pair of pants, but they’ve got too many too-gaping holes for regular wear, on account of having been the pair previously, and worn basically all away. But, they’re good for writing in.)

Eric returned home with $1,500 in both actual and giant novelty cheque Stand-up Contest winnings, Steph came to terms with having taken a really expensive cab ride across town for what turned out to be but a three-minute spot, and I learned that it’s no good to close an LGBT fundraiser set with an AIDS joke.

Ok.

Cleveland in Photos

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