Godspeed, Walshies!

Note: the following was not composed by either of the Walsh Brothers, but rather by their blogmaster, Brykman, an old and embittered Hebrew.

Gentlemen (if that is indeed your real name): you say that positive thinking never hurt anyone and yet look at me. Look at me!!! When first I crossed the Los Angeles border some ten years ago (by '88 Tercel, no A/C) I was filled with nothing but youthful joy and vigor! My optimism at first seemed justified: within a week I met with Don Rickle's 1st cousin to discuss my brilliant screenplay, Joel's Barmitzvah, after a chance encounter at an ATM. Two weeks later, a like encounter with Jackie Mason at Canter's Delicatessen (when I just happened to have a copy of my script with me!) had me believing the whole deal was kismet.

And then, not a month later, came another chance meeting. This time with Richard Dreyfuss at Micelli's (the Italian restaurant where everybody who works there sings even though no one wants them to). It's on Cahuenga. Check it out. The food's pretty good. I ran to my car and retrieved a copy of the aforementioned ground-breaking script. Everything was falling into place. Surely one of these Hollywood heavies would recognize my genius and demand to produce my movie!!

The coming days brought countless interviews with enormously wealthy and influential Hollywood producers. Option contracts were signed, the whole bit. And now look at me! Take one Goddamned good look at me! I'm writing Javascript and HyperText Markup Language! There is nothing funny about HyperText Markup Language!! No, gentlemen. In the coming days, be not fooled by gimmickry nor by promises of a swift and certain success. For you have indeed ventured into the Valley of the Demon, where nothing — and no one — is as it (or he/she) seems.

Unless of course it all seems like a bunch of crap to you. Then it pretty much is exactly as it seems.

Not to bring you down or anything. I'm sure you guys will do just fine.

at long LAst

We're finally here. Via Pittsburgh, Nashville, All of Florida, New Orleans, Austin, San Antone, Houston, Memphis, Chicago, Denver, Bryce Canyon, Las Vegas, and Menlo Park, CA. It's been a long journey and I've taken hundreds of pictures. I wish I could put all of them on the web because I've got some good ones. It's been a while since I've posted anything but I'll be looking to rectify that in the next few days. There are many moments that I'll try to recount. And, for those of you wondering how we're doing, we've been here for less than a week and we've already signed deals with HBO, Universal, Myspace, and RCA records. I never thought it would be this easy. Our show airs this Sunday on HBO. Look for us under the name "Dane Cook" on Myspace, and the record drops next Tuesday. Positve thinking never hurt anyone.
Currently,
Chris

Beantown Bantah III

Here's anatha one...



-Chris

Two Things

Two random things from the beginning of our trip that will never get expanded into an actual thing... (until "Travels with Chris & David)

The best night for me might be the second night of the trip in DuBois, PA when I witnessed a platinum blond angel sing. It was during karaoke in a bar called "Coyote Joe's". Aptly named for the menacing coyote 15ft. above the bar (not named for the woman who looked like a coyote who picked a fight with it). The angel was named Billy. Billy didn't have wings, but the throat - the throat - was made of gossamer. This kid in this tiny town knocked my socks off and when I finally inquired as to who he could be, this broad gargling Pennsylvania coal and a Newport says in one breath, "Who Billy? Oh Billy's amazing he was touched as a kid I think you know he won a contest he came in first tied with me we both competed and we won and I think his father fondled him he's incredible these guys stood up when he was singing and called him a faggot and I feel really bad for him because he mighta been touched by his dad and his wife left him for another woman she's a lesbian and took the kid and those guys after the contest splashed paint all over his van and I told his wife I told her "You're a no-good piece of trash and Billy deserves better and I ought to beat the shit outta you right now" and he can sing like no one else and he was definitely molested.. draggggg." One breath. From "kinda" being touched to "certainly", guys torturing him, and wife leaving him. I think he used all that and poured it into Prince's "Pussy Control." The kid can sing.

My favorite moment. Two days later in Pittsburgh. Chris and I went to the Andy Warhol museum. The museum has five or six floors and you start at the top and work your way down. On the top floor before you get to Warhol's stuff, they had a special exhibition called, "Deadly Medicine: Creating the Master Race." It detailed the nazi regimes genocide through "racial hygiene." Intensity. There were all sorts of displays and media and the exhibit was a bit of a labyrinth and at one point led to a display documenting an asylum where doctors would observe people who were mentally ill and "feebleminded" (great word) and then kill them (not really, but really). So we come to the Door. The Door was used at one of the asylums (perfectly creepy - scratches and bite marks; a Crazy Kids Only sign on it) And in front of the Door was an explanation of what went on behind the Door. It explained, "through this door, doctors would observe patients and diagnose them based on their observations." Then the display went on to say, "Look through the observation window in the door and you will see what a doctor saw." And when you looked through the window of the Door, there was a monitor six feet away that flashed stills of people with various psychological sicknesses. Pictures of the crazies. It was terrible. And sobering. And as we walked away, Chris says, "Dave, watch this." Just as a woman finishes reading and is about to look, Chris sneaks up behind the Door, makes a crazyface (see below) and drives that woman INSANE. Oh the irony. She got pissed off - as the insane do. But then Chris did it to a large group of women and they couldn't stop laughing through the exhibit... because they were black.

We now have a new sketch called, "The Door." -- David

_hicag_

Last Wednesday David and I made the executive decision to drive all throught the night from Memphis to Chicago in order to surprise our good and great friend Christopher Hickey in his sleeping bed. We were successful. We arrived more quickly than you would think on a highway surprisingly devoid of insects. We pulled into a dark city amidst a cold heavy rain and, after rousing our friend, made way to Wrigley Field where I quikly purchased a Cubbies hat and tickets to the game. Watching a classic argument unfurl in the process. "Two tickets, twenty bucks" said the regular guy with his wife. "Don't buy them!" Said the scalper. "Shut the fuck up," said the regular guy. "We'll take 'em" said Us. "Aw, I was gonna give you mine for free" said the scalper. Yeah right. The kicker is that we didn't even actually see the game. Rain delay. We decided to leave and have a drink at the Improv Olympic. One turned into many and that was the start of a crazy weekend.

On Thursday another old buddy, Mike Catino, flew out to meet us and things really went bananas. Thursday: we went to a place called mothers where we rocked out to live band karaoke. I sang "Mother" by Danzig and quickly messed the whole song up.

Friday: Billygoat Tavern, Millenium Park, Chisox game. Not many people were there due to the weather so we got to sit front row on the third base line. Rediculous. Oh, I forgot to mention that before the game we stopped into a wig store called "Wigfield" and purchased some wigs. Which we then wore all weekend. After the game we went to a place to get some classic Chicago style pizza. If you've never had any, a rough approximation would be swallowing a brick. (Which I've heard from more than one person.) Then, out again. Gallavanting all around town. Ending our night in Lincoln Park at a place called Franks. We then took the cab ride of our lives home. Getting trapped on a highway exit ramp and lost several times. In the end, the price of our ride was somewhere in the sixty dollar range.

Saturday: We moved to an apartment in the Lincoln Park area and made our way out for the evening. Craziness in a blur. One bar- bad vibes. So we left Chris and friends behind. Almost as soon as we left there were fights. We ended up in a place called "The Station" and after 3 shots I can't really tell you what happened. I can tell you what other people have told me. In a walk from that bar to "Franks" my brother and I put on a show for a couple of miles. When we arrived at the bar we took it over and everyone wanted to wear my wig. I took pictures of everybody and, once or twice, almost got into a couple of fights due to my quick camera trigger finger. I avoided the fights by telling people that Herb Ritts was my mentor. Even though most everyone had no idea who Herb Ritts is... I don't even know who he is. Our new lab-tob is overloaded with pictures of people I don't know. Every night was a mixture of silliness and maniacal fun. I guess those two things are the same but I like the way that sounds.

Sunday: much the same as the other nights except we went to the zoo both Sunday and Monday. The zoo was two blocks from our apartment and it was free. I love zoo. The Brooklyn zoo is my favorite but any zoo is great. A lion roared right at me and it was like five feet away. That was Amazing. Last night we had a set at Zanies. That was OK. Not our best set ever but it was all right. Zanies is a great club and hopefully they'll have us back.

Overall, Chicago is a great city and known as a haven for Comedy. At one point in my life I reached a crossroads and relished thoughts of moving here and getting into Improv. Instead, I chose to move back to Boston and begin stand-up. Life has come full circle and here we are. Another crossroads. After being here for a few days I get a sense that Chicago is, indeed, a great Comedy city and I'm happy and inspired for having passed through. I now find myself ready to move on to our big adventure in the West. I hope Los Angeles is ready for the Walsh Brothers...

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