Small Towns

Just did a small town last night called Lion's Head last night. A tiny little place on the mouth of some lake with a population of roughly 1000 people. It's always a fun experience to venture into these little villages and see the other way that human beings select to live their lives. No street lights, no traffic, no crime, no Subways - transit or sandwich - and no sign of caring about anything that city folk seem to value. Small towns are diffirent and thus must be mocked.

These towns usually don't have street or building names. You usually have to just take a left at the Miller's house on the street where the crazy guy lives on to get to the gig, which is held in Don's bar. The people I meet tend to be in a state of muted awe. Perhaps it's my height, perhaps it's the cell phone, but whatever it is, they always know I'm not from 'round here, and logically deduce that if I'm in their town, I must be the comedian-guy, and they are always willing to help me with local talk to put in my 'skit'.

The economy of small towns is odd. In Toronto, you walk into a busy Subway - the sandwich one - and one person is working their ass off to serve a dozen city folk. In small towns, the same place would have 5 people working to serve 2 people, both of whom are friends who popped in to say hi. I don't know how the small town economy works. It seems inflated and I'm puzzled as to how they sustain operations. More people are working than are consuming. I guess that's why they bring in the comics.

The people, though, always seem to be happy to have you. Always happy to tell you a little about their life, their town, and how much the rival city is far better of far worse. They love to buy you a drink, they love to make you laugh and they always do their best to make you at home. They love to invite you to their other watering hole, which is sometimes their house, and that, from experience, is just not a good idea.

All in all, as I make my across this province, country, world, I'm noticing how similar many of these places are. Be it Lions Head, Fairview or Cereal, small towns are quaint and never fail to make me happy to see the bright lights, traffic and smog of the city every time I return.

Letter From The Editor

We here at TheBrettMartin apologize for the recent lack of postings on the worlds' most popular web-log, or more commonly known as a 'blog'. It has been a hectic and diffirent time here at TheBrettMartin and all involved in operations are excitedly working towards the new and improved TheBrettMartin.

As you may have read, we at TheBrettMartin sent writers out to New York City recently to report on some events. However, we experienced some techinical difficulties in the Empire State. Rest assured, we here at TheBrettMartin were very happy with the assignment and promise more soon from the experience.

Upon returning to Canada, staffers at TheBrettMartin were pleased to see a new direction taking place and we are excited to share with you - the worlds largest blog readership - all the changes that will be taking place.

So, as we enter a new time here at our office, we all thank you for your patience and are excited to launch our new and improved services here at TheBrettMartin.

So, buckle up - we all are here - it's time for a new chapter.

Best wishes. The commited staff of TheBrettMartin

Short and Sweet(ish)

New York City. I'm in it now. Pretty damn cool. Grammar bad.

It's a helluva city. Action everywhere. I've seen many of the sites so far. Strawberry Fields, The Dakota, Times Square, Kathleen Turner and Ground Zero, which was the oddest. Strange to stare at a giant void and imagine not only what was there at one point, but also what happened there. The lack of towering buildings speaks volumes of what was taken away.

Did some comedy. Not so epic, though. These rooms were 'B' rooms at best, and the comedy itself was far less than stellar. Comics in Canada trulty are second to none. I fared average. Ended up chatting mostly, as in two shows I 'performed' in front of roughly 20 people. Big Apple baby! I went tonight to a better venue, The Laugh Factory, and that seems more my level. I'll try to get on tomorrow - no breath holding, though. All said, I realize I am bit better at this than I thought.

Other than that, I'm, enjoying it here. I really needed a vacation, too, what with my hectic shcedule of doing nothing of late. All said, I like New York, it's my kind of town, and it's making me appreciate Toronto even more. Talk soon, y'all, whoever y'all are.

A Post

Toronto was hot today for the first time. Humid and sticky to boot. I forgot how I didn't enjoy the sensation of sweating while doing nothing. I anticipate a beautiful summer that I will complain about quite often. Toronto is better.

I actually like the city a tad more now. I see more sides of it's personality. More people are running amok and getting in my way. There is some green, and the concrete has a really nice shade of grey. Peoples' unfriendliness has a much calmer demanor about it. The people's hate is warming up, too.

Things for me are up. I am starting to apply what I have been learning and things are going better. I feel like I'm moving forward now, and fuck me if I have any idea where I'm headed. Clearly, I have forgotten my bad words lesson, but aside from that, things are looking good and I am I exctied to be where I am.

I have a friend in the neighbourhood now. A fellow comedian-squatter from home has moved here and it's good to have another piece of my old life here. Makes me realize how much I've grown.

It's also made me realize how quiet I became here. I simply stopped talking to people since I moved here. In fact, every time things change, I stop talking. I was like this as a kid when my family moved, too. Shy might also be the word. Everything became internalized and I forgot human interaction.

I was not of the mind that I wanted to talk to anybody. I just wanted to do my thing. But, it feels really good to talk again, and I'm thinking I might not ever shut-up again.

Excpet for now, where I will sign off. Back rather soon....

Nothing To Say, Really

Just thought I'd let you all know, whoever you all are, that at the moment, I have nothing to say. Nothing to comment on. Nothing is striking me and nothing has happened. I have done little and and am frankly enjoying the nothing.

Nothing can be fun. Nothing can be dull. It's best in the middle, actually. Nothing is the gray area between something and death. I like nothing, especially when it's nice outside. I guess that's something.

So, enjoy your nothing, too. Sometimes, there is nothing better than resting after having not done a thing, or something like that.

The Bad Words

I started swearing in Grade Three. Something of a prodigy of the profane. I knew they were bad. Saying them was like releasing little explosions; somebody was sure to have a problem with it. Nobody, for whatever reason, like to hear children swear. And, that was all I needed to continue doing it. I liked to write it on papers, on frosty windows on the school bus, and surely and most purely from my mouth. I was speaker of the forbidden and King of the wrong. It was a good year, grade three, but things wouldn't always remain that rosey in the swear industry.

Come Junior High, you could not say it, but adults were able direct it at you. Confusing. The shock was replaced by awe. Televison could not say it, but movies could, and any new kid that would was about to be a new friend. The Swearing Industry was evolving before my very eyes and I was determined to understrand what was next.

As I have grown up, I now hear profanity everywhere. Children, movies, television, songs, everywhere. I am ok with it, Truly, at the end of the day, it's just a sound that emits from the mouth that we've all been conditioned to attacth a neagtive emotion to. Nothing more. I'm sure Elk have swears, too. Pitches that the whole herd here's and think, "What a mouth on that guy. What an animal". If some Russian guy came up to me and just started swearing at me, I'd laugh. A whole lot of sounds I don't get.

I've learned the most of swearing from stand-up. I like to swear. Always have. Thought it obvious to bring to comedy. I swore with a frequency that was charming if you were endeared by those sorts of things. I have learned, however, that for the most part, the populace doesn't want it, and it isn't necessary. So, I have decided to swear less. I will still carry it in my sachet of weaponry, but will not use it as a first line of offense. It will still be there, though, waiting, and it will fuck you up.

So, a swear-lite existece for the next little while. I always figured Adulthood would suck....

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Something of a blase day today. I have not much to do and even less money in which to do it with. It's a beautiful day, though, and I find myself unable to complain about my situation at the moment, especially when I look ahead to my day tomorrow.

I am going to my first Blue Jays game as a Torontonian. I have been to two previous baseball games, both many years ago - in Oakland as well as Toronto. This will be diffirent, however. I now live here. This is my team. My local representation. I plan to go to as many ballgames as I can get to this season. I see it as a very civil way to spend an afternoon. Sitting amongst thousands of other relaxed people, taking in the most relaxed of games, watching a Blue Jays' team that my senses tell me may be a bit of a surprsie squad. I love to bond with my local sports team, and I look forward to meeting my new mates tomorrow afternoon.

I bonded well with my beloved Calgary Flames last year. I watched that team grow from a a group unsure of it's abilites to maure into a team that rightly won The Stanley Cup. You begin to identify with the characters on the team. You mourn the departure of traded members and celebrate with them in the arrival of the new, much needed figure, that crucial piece to the puzzle that was missing, that last push to get them over the top. And I can do it all for something stupid like $5 a game. Almost beats having friends.

So, Go Jays Go. I look forward to growing with Vernon Wells, Roy Halliday and Alex Rios as the year goes on.

Affirmed

It's been an odd last two days. I can feel somthing changing, something happening. There's something in the air, and it's not just smog. I have a feeling I can only describe as grand. Yes, a grand event, I feel, is ocuring.

Let me be the first to say I have no idea what that might be. Of course, in my young mind, I seek to understand what it is and tend to jump to all sorts of conclusions. I've rationlized, though, to go against my swift emotional response, which of course, was and littered with everything from Development Deals to Diptheria. I have yet to rule out Diabetes, either.

I'm not even sure how to describe it, which is frustrating, because it's my job to. It's a mounting frusration, but calming at the same time - the knowing that something is changing can sometimes soothe the minds inability to understand just what it is.

This has all started with what I am calling 'My New Reality'. I have no job. My bank account is as spry as the 'Ol Pope. I am in a city where I am comfortable only to an extent. I am not unhapppy, but not euphoric. I like this situation, alot. It good for me. I feel free of all the excess. It's up to me, now.

It's manifesting itself onstage. I've been hitting the stage an extra amount this week, and I feel like a jockey on a horse, just beating the piss out of the horse because I know there's more there. I'm not sure that there's any other horses out there. I'm not sure if I'm even on a track - but I don't care. All I have is a sneaking suspicion that this horse can go, and go like it's never gone yet. Might be a Triple Crown horse. Haven't seen one in my lifetime, have no idea what it's like. I can feel all sorts of gears in it, but it seems to content to stay in 3rd, and I won't let it. Not anymore. This fucking horse can run, and I'm excited to see what it can do. One of there days, this horse is going to take off, and it'll be real fun ride.

OR, from another perspective, I'm in the 'bombing' lull after some great shows. Or, if you're the MC, making his job a little more difficult. Or, I was born with the soul of a horse, which would explain the many problems I have with humans.

All in all, things are good at Base Camp Brett. Rations are a little low, and the tent is full of holes and it's windy and I somehow lost eight of the pegs, but fuck it - Morale is high. I feel ok. This is somewhat fun, anyways. I should hope I am the right mixture of not scared and not too confident. If worst comes to worse and I should fail, luckily there is a butcher just down the street from me, and horse meat is the cheapest of all.

No Money

Ever been broke? I have. I am! It's fun in a very sadistic way. Everything becomes an adventure. How will I hop on the train today? Am I actually hungry enough to eat Lentil soup? Is that a quarter between that couch cushion? It's like a day at the carnival, but you're still broke.

Things appear diffirent that they would if you had money. You start to realize that there is value to nickels and dimes. You begin to actually 'Nickle and Dime' your way accross the city. Coins that used to seem a hassle to you when you had real money become your saviour when you're broke. Funny how perspectives flip.

Since you can't go anywhere or buy anything, you start to leave organized society in some ways. No use going to the mall, can't get anything without stealing it. Bars and restaurants become jokes. Do you know how much they charge for Lentil? Bills stop being scary and start being funny, and the whole concept of a money driven world seems a little absurd.

You start to notice the trees. You start to see the clouds move against the blue backdrop of the never-ending sky. You notice puddles of water in places where there should be no puddles. The slightest green becomes radiant and the darkest grey becomes comforting. A new world emerges, one where you never thought to see how much money you did or didn't have. One where the pursuits of your heart are the only one of any substance. Banks are buildings and bankers the people who scatter within them.

It's a very nice way to see the world, and you think it'll never change, and to an extent, it doesn't. Even when the money starts rolling in again (and it always does) you never lose that eye for nature, your awe of the simple things, that disrespect for bills and banks. But, the money comes, and the coins become a pain and the restaurants taste great and you laugh while you curse the lentil as you go the bank to get your cash.

While I clearly prefer to have money and the flexibility it induces, it's not all bad being broke. Everybody should try it once and understand it. It's not a choice, it's just the way things go while you're on the way to where you're going.

You learn that even though you're broke, life still goes, and you're still alive, and you learn that money is just another spoke in the wheel of it all - and at the moment, your wheel is just a little fucky.

Dead Pope

So, the Pope has died. Big news on the World stage. The very public face of the Catholic Church is now stiff with rigormortis, and a billion people are in limbo waiting for their new leader. Good times in Camp Religion.

I was impressed by this Pope, though. As is always the case, I have learned more about him in death than I did in life. I was unaware he hosted forums where all heads of the major religions came together and talked. Good move. He was friends with some jews. Good move. Now, there were the steps back, too, such as the blind-eye turned to child-diddling and not allowing women to progress within the Church. There is much more I heartliy disagree with, but this is not the time nor place. I will wait until Mass.

What excites me is the New Pope. What will New Pope do? How long will he have that New Pope smell to him before the world starts questioning his Pope-ness? I hope New Pope picks a good name. Pope Larry won't cut it. It's 2005 - time for the Catholics to step it up. Something new and fresh. Pope Elvis might do. Pope Master Flash. Pope Fuck'em all. Whatever it is he is given, I suggest he needs a 'V' at the end. Sounds authorative and will give him good credibility with the youth. Pope Larry V might actually work, come to think of it. Larry Five to the rescue of all the 't' people.

Will New Pope have the respect of the world, or did that die with Karol from Poland? I hope it might have. No need for divisive religious thinking anymore. We're past that. That was yesterdays news. One people. One Earth. One last Pope.

Pope Larry The Fifth, pleasure to meet you.

Musuems and Art Galleries

I went to an Art Gallery and Museum this week for the first time in my life voluntarily. As a young schooler, I was forced into such actions, and they were met with the proper amount of resistance. Now, as an acult, I ventured into these buildings without fear, prejudice or malice. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and the fact that admission was free these nights didn't hurt the cause.

First, I checked out the Art Gallery. I was drawn to this building anyhow. It sorta floats in the sky. It is 'balanced' on four pencils and is white with black patches - which reminded me of my cat - and had purple light high-lighting it. Quite the scene. From afar, I realized it wasn't a bank, but I had to see what it was. As it turned out, it was the Art School and Gallery. And that night happened to be free admission, so I was in.

I walked around and saw what there was to see. The Art Gallery is art in every way possible. No one way to check it out, just wonder about and see what you see. I like that. I saw some abstract things that I didn't like, some statues that I didn't understand, and some people I didn't much care for, but there was much I did like. Some paintings that drew you in from accross the room. What a sight that is. I saw a painting of a highway and a sky. Realized I love that. Paintings of fires and King Henry VIII really caught my eye, as did anything biblical. It was all very nice. I felt enlightened, yet distracted by the startling amount of beautiful women there. My God, who thought they'd be in Art Galleries? Is High Art where the women actually are? I'd have though smokey comedy clubs. Anyways, it was a good experience, and I will return.

I checked out the Royal Ontario Musuem last night. Free Musuem Fridays. Sadly, word had gotten out and the place was full of humans with their baby humans. People have a way getting in the way of a good time. That said, there were some cool things. I saw a mummy. A real dead person from thousands of years ago. I wonder if he thought that's where his body would be in 2005 AD? There were stuffed Pandas and Lions and other interesting things, which has now supplied me with enough knowledge that should Jack Hannah walk in at any point, I can have aclue what he's talkign about. Too much boring things, though. I'm not sure what I was ecpecting - the Louvre, I guess, but it seemed a little stupid at times. 'This is a fake bat. A real one may look like this". Don't even bother. Show me something real, something that is, not might be. I'd have way rather looked at one of those bitchy families locked in a cage, with a placard out front that read, "Real, live, modern family who didn't take into account that everybody and their fucking dog would come down to free museum night and has thus broken down and decided to donate themselves to the musuem and pose as to what they may look like if they hadn't come down here tonight"

There was more to both, and I enjoyed them tremendously. They also really helped me fro comedy. I had important shows after both engagements and I found it help put comedy perfectly into perspective. I will return every Friday and Wednesday for my evenings of free culture. I must now find nights of free pizza and days of free public tranist, and then a mobile, full and scholared man I shall be.