The room itself was interesting in a very ‘Hard Rock’ sort of way; the high ceiling was a maze of water pipes and furnace ducts. The highlight of the room was a huge stage, set up and accoutered for enthusiastic rock bands. The room itself was large, and split into three sections, of which the middle section addressed the stage, and was separated from it by only the dance floor. In retrospect I can only presume that the light and sound systems were state of the art.
Within moments I was joined by Myles; I’d been anxious to find out how he’d made out in Los Angeles. Myles told me that the scene there was interesting, and so awash with hopeful comics that a person might have to apply 3 – 4 weeks in advance for a five minute set at one of the many open mikes! The talent, as it were, formed an interesting spread, from very poor to very good, with little or nothing in between! The reason for this, according to Myles, was that it was composed almost entirely from comics with less than one years experience, or people with five or more years. What happened to all those years in between? Many had given up in disgust, but the rest were elsewhere looking for venues where they could get more stage time! L.A. is awash with comic ambition!
Myles, with the help of contacts, was able to get on a couple of good shows, at least one of which was televised. Even then the competition is so keen, that, for each comic willing to work for money, there are twenty who’ll do it for free. It’s just such similar odds that keep hookers looking for paying customers!
By this time we’d been joined by, “Junior”, the rising star in our Saskatoon comic community, who just recently took second place in Beily’s comedy contest, and a young fellow from Vancouver who’s been doing stand-up for about a year. Myles regaled us with stories of vicious heckling in some of Saskatchewan’s rougher bars. The best was of when he and the Master had been in a place so far out in the boonies that civilization was held, locally, to be a myth, wishful thinking, or an outright lie!
On the evening in question the Master had been doing a little cross-cultural provocation when one of the members of the audience took verbal offense! The heckler stood up, and turned out to be a red headed individual of the extra-largish variety, with a thick Scottish, (...and we both know how they can be!), accent! Somehow the offended member was soothed and re-seated. In no time, however, our hapless Master had managed to insinuate an offending barb beneath the Caledonian’s plaid ass! My Haggis breathed brethren aren’t renowned for their linguistic diplomacy, and this one, having tried once and failed, quickly reverted to the more physical variety! He charged the stage!
Myles said that he’d been concerned for the Master’s well being, but the Master slowed the barbarian’s charge with a well placed boot in the throat! This might have ended the encounter, except that those of Highland heritage often eschew such gentle chiding; in seconds the red giant was off the floor, and had the Master down on the stage trying to gauge his eyes out with his thumbs! By that time the cavalry, (in the form of Myles and the Hotel bouncers), arrived, and with a forceful appeal to reason, removed the enraged patron from their patronage! The Master dusted himself off, and, with a smile to the audience, explained that it was difficult to be funny immediately after being violent; the show went on.
By this time two more comics had shown up from Vancouver, so, we had a full house ...of comics, but ...no audience! The Hard Rock, Spinal Tappers were the only two besides ourselves, and comedy might never penetrate skulls thickened by so many years of head bangin’. So the show was called off, and we comics slunk away to our various destinations.
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