I Cut Through.

Feel better, Folks!
 
I guess I’m just talking to you like you all have the same shitty cold that I do. It’s weird. I’m sick but I’m not that pissed about it. I guess there’s really nothing you can do once you are sick except the weird shit you’ve decided makes you better. I have those. Currently it’s vitamin C, oregano oil, aspirin and some weird Chinese herbal thing my girlfriend got from her massage therapist. Is it working? Sure. Why not? Ultimately it comes down to rest and water, I think. I have no idea if I’m actually getting better. I’m all Sudafeded up and Afrined. I think I’m ok. I had a good run with no sickness. So, I’ll take the hit without freaking out. I have the time to be sick right now. It’s kind of relaxing in a sick way.  If you don’t freak out and rest it gets better quicker. Right?
 
I can't write too much today because I lopped off a piece of my left index finger. I’m no wizard on the keys with all of my digits. So being hand hobbled is not great for me, writing-wise. It was a gift that did it. I like having sharp knives in the house. As you people who cook know, a sharp knife is an amazing thing. It makes cutting fun and satisfying. I guess I had gotten used to my dullish unsharpenable knives. I knew them. We understand each other. It’s important to understand your knife. 

I was given a brand new big sharp knife for Christmas. I had no relationship with it. When I used it a couple of times I knew is was a beast but I liked it. I was happy about it. Then, the other night I was cubing some tofu and when I sliced through the small loaf of curd I felt that unmistakable feeling of slicing finger. Its not painful at first and you don’t really know the damage until you say, ‘Fuck,’ and drop the knife and quickly look at the source of the feeling. There was a lot of blood and bloody tofu is not a popular vegetarian dish. I had sliced into my index finger at the tip and there was a little disc of skin barely attached. I had cut through all the layers hence the big blood letting and the lack of extreme pain. I’ve been through some serious slicing accidents from my days working the counter at restaurants. I knew it was too small for stitches and I knew that the skin disc would probably have to come off but I wanted to try to let it reattach. I hit the wound with some peroxide that Sarah ran and got out of the cabinet. I was actually surprised at just how many first aid supplies I had. We cleaned it, dressed it and I left the skin on and hoped it would press into place and connect. Sarah almost puked. Thankfully, enough of the tofu was left to finish making dinner, which I did because I’m stubborn. 
 
I’m happy to report that as of today the flap seems to be taking. It hasn’t turned black or purple and fallen off. I redress the thing twice a day and marvel at the miracle of skin. Hope it takes. It’s fucking with my ability to play guitar. Though I am taking it as an opportunity to strengthen my pinky and play anyway. Not well but it’s a good exercise. 
 
Today I talk to James Hetfield from Metallica. I’m no metal nerd or headbanger but I was married to one once and I’ve grown to appreciate it. Either way, it didn’t matter. We had a great talk. On Thursday I talk to B-movie king Roger Corman. Some of the greatest actors and directors ever started their careers working with Roger. Should be interesting. 
 
Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Reconfigured.

It’s a New Year, People!
 
Here we go again. Hang on. 
 
I know I won't be pleasantly surprised but I don’t really want to be terminally surprised or surprised with horror on a daily basis. I am girding up, though. Emotionally, psychologically and spiritually girding up, somehow.
 
I’ll tell you how I entered the New Year. The day before New Year’s Eve I was told to watch a documentary called ‘HyperNormalisation’ by Adam Curtis. I know he’s done other ones but I wasn’t familiar with him or his work. I may have watched ‘The Power of Nightmares’ back in the day but I can remember it. It came out in a dark, tired time for me. I am told we did talk about it on my old radio show but much of that time seems like a haze of anger and caffeine. This new one is a mind blower. It is a journalistic exploration of the forces that have brought us to where we are: Technology, international terrorism, perception, economics, reality, detachment and the powers that rule and fight to maintain power over all. 

The movie is a feat of doc genius and the trajectories Curtis brings together successfully are daunting and haunting but there is clarity in it. The darkness spreads wider and over more time than I could conceive and there is light in knowing that. It is bleak but there is so much I didn’t know and so much he brings together that makes sense that it feels enlightening and there is always some hope in enlightenment. So, I watched that and it reconfigured part of my mind. Good way to enter the New Year. Reconfigured. 
 
It has become a tradition for me to do nothing on NYE. Just have a quiet evening with Sarah, not even checking in on the global time zone dropping dominos of televised celebrations and panic. We just made some dinner and watched a screener of ‘Hidden Figures.’ It’s a great story and an important one to be told and shared. The movie is a little hokey but the performances are great and I cried at the right places. We waited out midnight, had some sex, kissed and slept into the First. 

Now we’re here and I have changed nothing. I made no resolutions. I don’t need that pressure. There’s already enough. I feel pretty good, actually. It's weird to admit that. I know shit is real and hard and scary but my foundation is solid. I hope I have the fortitude not to personalize the shit storm that is likely and to keep doing solid work that has an effect. I have to find the holes with light shining through them and try to bore them out a bit, make them bigger. I am wary but oddly inspired. It’s kind of good to have something to push up against. It becomes essential to fight and figure out a way to express it. 
 
That said, I talked to Bruce Springsteen for today's episode. It seems my agenda was to connect with him personally. I had an hour and that was what I wanted to do. I feel like I did it. On Thursday Martha Plimpton gets worked up. She’s a real NYC character. Loved it. Great talks. 

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

I Hope.

Hello, People! 

I hope you all are having as comforting a holiday time as possible. It’s hard not to be pensive. We should be. It is hard to know what is real and what isn’t.

We only have our own perception to rely on and how we load up that perception is on us: How we want to inform ourselves, what sources we draw from, what our priorities and beliefs are and how we buttress or question those priorities and beliefs. Do we detach entirely, thinking that focusing on our own business and life in the most morally responsible way possible is enough to be proactive? I mean, we have lives, right? It might not be enough because we have to be morally responsible citizens of a country we still believe in. We have to believe and we have to push back against an avalanche of anti-democratic psychological brutalization on all fronts, government-sanctioned. We can’t buckle and be defeatist and we can’t have blinders on. Which is a drag, because there are some really great blinder options out there. You can get them all on the Internet.

We might actually have to get involved, get our hands dirty and help others in a real way. I mean me, too. I am not saying any of this in a condescending way. I think about what I need to do all the time. I have to stop thinking and start doing. I can't think that talking about this in a broad and vague way is actually doing something. I guess it kinda is but I know there is more I can do. I’m taking time to reflect and get clear on what that may be. I hope you are, too. It’s easy to get overwhelmed and terrified and hopeless and then that becomes debilitating and can provoke a depressive state that becomes the focus. The bleak feelings of dread are not the pathology; the events you are reacting to are pathological. Your brain and body are doing the appropriate thing. Let’s relieve it by coming together.

All that said. I hope you got some cool presents. I hope you ate some good stuff. I hope you don’t feel too bad about yourself as we enter the new year. There are enough external things to feel bad about. Let yourself off the hook a bit with your interior attacks if you are waging those battles. Let’s externalize them, use that critical energy for things that need to be criticized that aren’t you.

A couple of outlier talks this week. Today I share a conversation I had in Las Vegas with Sammy Shore. If you listen to the show I am sure you have realized there is a sub-narrative that is a comic history of The Comedy Store. I have had an obsessive relationship with that place for decades, going back to when I was a doorman there in the eighties. Well, Sammy is the original owner of the place. He is Mitzi Shore’s ex-husband and Pauly Shore’s father. He is, what I’m sure he would categorize himself as, a somewhat failed comic. He had nothing to do with what The Comedy Store became when he handed it over to Mitzi in a divorce settlement in the early seventies but he has something to say about it and his life in show business. On Thursday I talk to David Bromberg. When I was a kid I had an album I inherited from somewhere. It had a sketch of a guy playing guitar on it. It was a David Bromberg album. It was a little too folkie for my taste at the time but I remember it. Then I got a new David Bromberg album in the mail a few weeks ago and I thought, ‘wow, this guy has been around a long time. What’s he been up too?’ So, I reached out to talk to this lifelong sessions player and I now know he is also the foremost authority on violins made in America, a passion he pursued during a 20-year hiatus from music. Interesting talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

A Special Experience.

Hey, Folks!

There are a slew of new tour dates up at wtfpod.com/tour. Check in to see if I’ll be performing in your area. Also, the signed Carnegie Hall posters are going fast. This is a limited thing. All I got is what I got. So, if you want one I would pull the trigger on that at wtfpod.com/merch. While I’m self promoting-- you can get my last special ‘More Later’ now on iTunes! Enjoy.

I wrapped. We finished shooting ‘GLOW’ for Netflix last Friday. It was emotional but I tried to keep it under control. I’m sure it will set in more in the next week. When you spend a few months working on something that is so collaborative as a TV show you get very attached to the process and the people involved. You live in the world of making the show more than the real world and it's very intense. 

Throughout the shoot I sort of kept my distance from the 14 women playing the wrestlers both for character reasons but also, I think, to preserve my energy and emotional stability. My personal boundaries aren’t great and maintaining them requires somewhat drastic action, like almost shutting down so I don’t spiral off one way or the other. So, I kind of minded my own business and stayed in the work. I wasn’t a dick but I was kind of self-involved. I was sociable but I think I was kind of guarded so I wouldn’t be too open and it wouldn't affect the guy I was playing. I couldn’t really be guarded around Alison Brie. She sort of had my number and could disarm me pretty quickly but that really informed our dynamic on the show and it was really good. I felt it. Our relationship is a primary one in the season so it was good that we had the rapport we had. It was also good for me because I’m no trained actor so having a real connection AND working with a great actress made me perform better. I felt very close to all of them whether they knew it or not. I had never been around that many women at once every day, ever. It was a true learning experience.

It was amazing watching all of them work. They really built a team, trained together, understood each other and real showed up for what were some pretty daunting scenes. I found it all very moving. Like, I would get choked up watching them wrestle and act and I had to kind of stuff it down because that was what the guy I was playing would do and also I didn’t want to lose my shit on set every other day as me, Marc.

Everyone involved with this show was amazing and did great work. I’m really excited for everyone to see it. I’m not sure when that will be but it will be a special experience to watch it. I really want to watch it. I have to wait, too. I have no idea how it all came together. There’s literally no way it can't be good.

Annette Bening is on the show today. We had a nice long chat about her life and acting and Warren Beatty and other stuff. It was nice. On Thursday I talk to guitar wizard Derek Trucks about being a child guitar wizard and evolving into a virtuoso as opposed to a novelty act and about all his mentors along the way. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

It Was Not My Truth.

Hello, Folks!

It’s Sunday as I write this. I don’t feel great.

I went out for late Jew food at Canters after the show last night with my pal Jerry. I know that in every young Jew there’s an old one waiting to come out. I think that’s how we ripen and come to full fruition. You see moments of it throughout your life, indicators, but eventually it will be how you fill your skin. There is nowhere it becomes more apparent than in a food ordering situation and the subsequent reaction to the food when it is served. Granted, I am picky and specific because of my culture but maybe also because of my upbringing.

My mother is relatively anorexic, so as a kid, being in a restaurant with her and having to sit there while she found something on the menu that she could deconstruct and special-order into nothing was always an embarrassing situation. To sit there while she made the server request something that always became basically just vegetables with no oil, garlic or spice that may have started out as pizza. Then she would pull her own concocted dressing out her bag and sit there happy and I was just filled with shame. A good restaurant for her was one that would accommodate her eating disorder. That was my childhood. I grew to learn to just look down at the table and go to another place when she worked joy-reductive food mathematics with unsuspecting servers who usually count on the menu to protect them from patron’s crazy.

In a deli, you want your thing the way you want it but that is understood. I worked in a deli after college in West Roxbury, MA and the type of special ordering was appropriate to the menu but each Jew had their way—fatty, lean, heel of the bread, pancake style, onions grilled well, no onions, burnt, browned, fresh, from the middle, toasted twice, etc. The deli was the one place they went to get exactly what they wanted; even if it makes the counter guy crazy. I was a counter guy. You learn how to navigate the requests and negotiate the desire. It’s a Talmudic discussion getting to the truth of the meal for that person.

I know my deli meal truths. I’ve become a little more suicidal with my food choices. Since the election, a futility has descended with the darkness that makes eating what you want at the cost of time off the backend a priority and a true pleasure and comfort. Like a cancer-riddled Warren Zevon said to David Letterman when asked if his condition had taught him anything about life and death: “How much you’re supposed to enjoy every sandwich.”

I made the mistake of not requesting the waiter I like. I don’t usually do that because I trust most of the crusty servers at Canters. My guy isn’t crusty but he knows me. This is a big right of passage for an aging Jew, realizing you need to ask for your guy at the restaurant. Noted. I got a new guy. I ordered a cup of chicken soup with just broth and chicken meat, a LEO (lox, eggs and onions) with well-grilled onions, a plate of pickles, rye toast, cream cheese and a diet Dr. Browns Black Cherry soda. That is what I wanted. That was my truth and I wanted it delivered. When he showed up with a LEO with spinach scrambled and no toast, I lost my shit a bit. I don’t mind spinach but it was not in the Jew food aesthetic that I was looking forward to. It did not fit tradition. It was not my truth. I could’ve eaten it but I am an old Jew and I looked at him and said, “What is that? There’s spinach in there. I don’t want that.” He took it back and then it came back out correct, still no toast. I was losing. I went over to my regular guy to step in and he was busy. I looked around angrily and by the time I got everything I ordered there were at least three people involved in the process of getting me what I needed and my friend Jerry took on my panic. I think he would’ve stormed the kitchen if I hadn’t told him not to.

All said and done, it was a great LEO. The truth will set you free. It’s the age old struggle for it that can be daunting.

On today’s show I talk to Casey Affleck about growing up in Cambridge, MA, maturing as an actor, having kids, dealing with an alcoholic dad, and his performance in ‘Manchester by the Sea.’ I know there's been renewed attention on Casey being accused of sexual harassment in the past, which resulted in a lawsuit that was settled by both parties. And there are questions about why more outlets aren't asking Casey about these allegations, particularly in the current cultural climate.

Well, I can't speak for anyone but us, but I can tell you why it doesn't come up in my conversation with Casey: Because it's a violation of the terms of the settlement for Casey to talk about it. I was not told I couldn't ask about it. There were no questions that were said to be off-limits for this conversation. But Casey is not going to address the details of the case because of the terms of the settlement. 

For a lawsuit that was settled out of court by both parties, there's not much I can ask if the settlement means Casey can't talk about it. There have been other guests who were unable to discuss incidents due to lawsuit settlements, and when they tell us that, there's not much point in me pressing them to talk about something they say they're legally prevented from getting into. I have to take that at face value. 

Now, if you want to view this conversation through the prism of that lawsuit settlement, you can. The facts of that case are available. 

On Thursday I talk to Billy West. He’s one of the most prolific and talented voice over actors in the biz. He was both Ren and Stimpy at one point. I remember him when he was on the radio in Boston back in the day. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

At Some Point.

So it goes, Folks!

Another two great live shows at the Vic in Chicago! The Vic is a great theater. It’s one of those old-timey theaters that feels like a big theater with its balconies but somehow is intimate. I taped my last special there and it was good to be back.

I love this city (I’m sitting at O’Hare as I write this). This traveling one night for a show is a bit hard on the mind in the way that it doesn’t feel like it really happened. It’s like a dream. I wake up in the middle of the night in Los Angeles, drive to LAX, fly half asleep to Chicago, do sound check, do shows, go to sleep, wake up in the middle of the night, drive to O’Hare and fly back to LA half asleep then drive home. That space between waking up in the middle of the night two days in a row is like a waking dream state. It’s odd. I do know that the shows were good and I was glad people came out. I’m just sad I didn’t have more time to spend in Chicago. I love this city. I did manage to stuff some Lou Malnati’s pizza into my face and it was glorious. It’s the little things (that are bad for you) that make life great.

I can’t wait to have some time off. I don’t know if I’m starting to feel my age or I’m just exhausted. Probably both. I’m a little achy and grumpy. I have a couple more weeks of shooting on GLOW and some tour dates in the spring. I’ll probably shoot another special in the late spring and that’s it. I’ll get a vacation in there at some point. Then it will just be the podcast and me for a while. I think about retiring constantly but then it passes. I barely know what to do with free time on the rare occasions I have it. I really can't imagine what I would do with nothing but free time, but that is the idea isn’t it-- to do nothing. I guess the idea is really to do those things that you love to do, but I do those anyway and I imagine if all I did was those things I would get bored of them pretty quickly and there’s only a few.

I’m just feeling the fragility of it all. The body, the balance between people, the world, the darkness at the core of all questions being answered at all times with no real way to determine if the answers are true or even knowing if the questions are ridiculous. They are the same basic questions since the beginning of questions. All you have to hold on to is whatever fine psychological and emotional infrastructure you have in place to insulate you from the darkness-- actions, some good deeds, being there for others, avoiding falling into yourself in a muted flurry of hopelessness or consumed in a swirl of futility. Pizza.

Sorry. I guess it's existential poetry morning here at O’Hare. People are bundled up. It’s cold. It’s grey outside. We are all in route.

Today I talk to Dana Carvey and it was very surprising because, again, I made assumptions and they were all wrong in a good way. On Thursday hallucinogenic traveler and comic Shane Mauss talks with me about tripping balls. Good talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Hold the Line.

So, Folks.

Heads up Chicago! I’ll be there this Saturday, Dec. 3 and I think there are still tickets available for the second show at 10. I’m looking forward to a chilly evening of warm comedy.

A quick update on the cat situation here at the house. I manned up and de-manned Buster. I had his balls taken out. Problem is that doesn’t seem to have stopped him from being a complete lunatic of a cat. He has fits of sporadic demonic possession. He’s climbing screens, knocking shit over, darting violently through the house and terrorizing the elderly cats, i.e. being a fucking kitten. He’s strong, though. He has a weird snout, almost like a dog, and huge ears. If I were at a different point in my life I would think he may be some kind of lesser devil or trickster spirit but now I’m older and more reasonable I think he’s just an odd cat with devil and trickster attributes.

He can fetch. I’ve only had one other fetching cat in my life and that was my ex-wife’s cat fat Moxie. I didn’t love that cat. Too needy. Buster will chase down a thrown fake mouse, use it as a Hacky Sack for a bit and then bring it back and drop it in my hand. It’s the only way to tire the little fuck out and it’s pretty cool. 

All is pretty good on the LaFonda front as well. Despite an evil vet telling me she would probably have to be put to sleep, she seems almost fully recovered. She definitely seems a little older and more fragile but she is herself and eating and being the temperamental thing that she is. Monkey is Monkey. He abides.

So, the profound political shift is happening. It would seem to follow that an equally profound cultural shift would follow as well, but it doesn’t have to. It shouldn’t. I fully understand that Trump is the President-elect but if the popular vote means anything it’s that he's presiding over a minority rule. That is relevant in the sense that it is on us to hold some kind of line. There is no social mandate for people being douchebags in public to other people because they feel empowered to do so by the political situation. Some shit is not okay. Just isn’t. I know that most of us, on some level, have lost sense of a true collective respect for humanity because we live bubbled lives on both sides, but we are all Americans and all people. Some are worse than others. 

Point being it may be necessary to step up and say, ‘Hey, it’s still not okay to do that,’ whatever ‘that’ is. Or, ‘Hey, it’s still not okay to say that,’ whatever 'that' is. It’s our duty out of respect for other people. I know I have to because I’m on stage a good part of my life and from what I’m hearing, it can get a little dicey up there. I can do crowd work. I can handle myself up there. I like it. It’s better when I don’t lose my shit, but you have to do what you have to do. There is no social mandate for being a douchebag in public—unless it’s your job and you are on stage and the situation requires it. Righteous douchebaggery has its place.

Today on the show is an old NYC comrade of mine and the host of the ‘Fixing Joe’ podcast, Joe Matarese. Joe is a great guy and a funny comedian. On Thursday I have a conversation with Sam Pollard who directed a new documentary called Two Trains Runnin'. It’s a great talk about docs and race and working as Spike Lee’s editor for years. I also talk with The Handsome Family for a bit on that episode.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Something Happened.

People, people, people.

I have to say I had an amazing time in Nashville. I love that city.

I also have to say that I was nervous because I’m prone to it. It was the first big show date I’ve done since the election. For those of you who have been listening to the show for a minute, you know that over the years I’ve developed a real love for going to the South. Initially I was judgmental and had it in a box but as I opened my mind, I’ve had great shows down there. It’s also truly one of the most beautiful parts of the country. But I was nervous. I had made myself nervous. I had been in my bubble here at the house, immersed in too much social media, which is really not a good representation of anything but detached impulses and bits and pieces of maybe relevant info. My brain was being pummeled and my feelings were tweaked. It’s been almost a week since I took Twitter on my phone. I still have it on the home computer. Baby steps. 

As I flew into Nashville, coming in over the beautiful fall foliage, I looked down and thought, ‘Hey, that’s not Twitter.’ Granted, Nashville is a progressive bastion in the South but no matter where I have been in the past I’ve always met nothing but nice people down there and I’ve always had good shows. This time it was better. I was anxious and I had some stuff I wanted to say about where I was and how I was feeling and I did and it was beautiful. I had about 900 folks there in the audience. I did about an hour and a half and something happened that never happened before. I was totally in it for the whole time. No second-guessing, no distance between me and them or me and my jokes and ideas. It was my pace, no rush, no panic, fully present. It was a wild feeling.

I don’t know if it was the Carnegie set or getting off Twitter or that I’ve just crossed some line in myself, but to be fully realized in what you’ve spent your life doing and know it is an astounding thing. I’m glad it happened in Nashville because I was nervous going in but not in the same way I’m usually nervous. I was nervous about America and I left with hope about America. There is something about being face to face with people and not their detached impulses of any kind that makes it very real, very human. That’s why I love doing standup, most of the time.

Also, since I’ve been off Twitter I started reading a novel which I rarely do because my attention span is so shattered all the time. It is probably the most satisfying, spectacular explosion of language and humor I have read in years, maybe ever. It’s call ‘The Sellout’ by Paul Beatty. Powerful verbal fireworks of satire. Rich. Snag it. I’m going to try to talk to him.

Today I talk to the actor Michael Shannon. Intense. Real deal. Great talk. On Thursday I talk to Scott Fagan about his long, twisted, journey before and after recording the lost masterpiece ‘South Atlantic Blues’ in 1968.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Carry On.

Onward, People

First off, I’ll be in Nashville this Saturday November 19th at the James K. Polk Theatre. There are still a few tickets left if you want to come. I’ll be in Chicago back at The Vic Theatre December 3rd for two shows at 7:30 and 10. There are tickets available for both. Love that city.

I’m trying to get back to life. Well, I never left it but it’s been difficult. When the world you live in changes literally overnight and shifts into something that threatens what you think is right and good it is daunting, traumatizing. It’s like a death in a very real way or, more specifically, being diagnosed with an illness that may or may not kill you. I’m not trying to be dramatic but it is a blow to a lot of us. This is our country and now we have to navigate a new version of it that is going to require some vigilance and active engagement with who we are as people and how we engage with others. It will now take more courage to be who we are, shamelessly and proudly, as Americans. It happens. It has happened before. Admittedly this feels a lot worse but we don’t know what’s going to happen. No one does. I mean, it will be bad, but we are Americans, proud Americans with deep beliefs about how people should be treated and how we treat people.

I’ve being doing things, going to movies, eating out, dealing with cats and standup but there is the dark, looming uncertainty that hangs over life. Everything has urgency. It's visceral. An appreciation for what we have and what we want is healthy and necessary. I don’t know what stage of grief you are at but acceptance, aggravated acceptance, that happens before standing up and proudly living life and doing what we believe in is important and necessary. Also, there’s a good chance that many people you know are more vulnerable and in a more difficult position than you who might need to be looked out for. We need to get each other’s backs now in a real way because we don’t know if anyone has ours. Carry on.

Also, big news: I took Twitter off of my phone and it feels like I have freed myself from something destructive. Why exacerbate what might be PTSD with an onslaught of more anxiety and compulsion? I know the endorphin rush and cortisol surge is satisfying but don’t tap yourself. You might need that stuff just to get through the day.

It’s a big day today because I talked to Lin-Manuel Miranda. His show ‘Hamilton’ is a truly great example of American art that changes lives and shows what this country is at its best: Inclusive, tolerant and righteous. I loved talking to him and we even sang a bit, a very little bit. On Thursday the irascible Legs McNeil and his more level-headed writing partner, Gillian McCain, talk about the re-issue of ‘Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk Rock.’ It’s one of the greatest books ever written. I was thrilled to have them.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

I Felt It.

Vote, Folks.

I know you will.

Two things.

One. Lafonda is on the mend or at least feeling better. I took her back to the vet. Angrily. The vet I usually see there was off and I saw the owner. The other vet had basically told me I would have to decide what to do with her, implying she was dying. This owner said cats are complicated and perhaps there was new stress in her life. There is: Buster Kitten. I asked if the long-acting steroid shot would help because the other vet said she couldn’t handle it. The new guy said she probably isn’t terminally ill and it would be fine. I had him do it. Within days she was acting more lively and now she is out and about and eating on her own. We were spoon-feeding her before. I really think that the first vet was playing on my feelings to get me to do more tests that would probably be inconclusive and put more strain on my old kitty. It looks like I’ll have her around for a bit longer now.

Two. CARNEGIE HALL WAS AMAZING! It was a transcendent experience for me. I have to be honest: A lot of my old mental patterns were haunting me. Would I be able to do it? Would I bomb? Was my material worthy? Am I good comedian? It was nuts what my brain was putting me through. When I got to NYC I just did what I always do. I ate at Veselka. I ate at Mogador. I took the subway to Carnegie Hall. I didn’t want anyone in my dressing room and I traveled alone. This was going to live or die by me and I got myself there. I wanted no distractions. Tom Scharpling and my opening act Nate Bargatze were the only people backstage. We got there early for sound check and when I stepped out there on that empty stage and spoke into the mic I knew it would be good. I knew I could do it. Part of me lives on stage.

The place was sold out. Nate did a great 15 minutes, killed. When he brought me up and I walked out onto THAT stage it was overwhelming. I was shaken. I felt like crying and I knew that would be okay but it was not how I wanted to start the show. I took it in. I sat down. I said things. I felt everything all at once. What I was saying was getting laughs but I wasn’t connected. I was emotional. It took about ten minutes for me to start getting a groove. Then I was up and moving around, doing a physical bit and I felt it. I was totally present, doing what I’ve done my whole adult life in the greatest venue on earth. From that point on I was totally present with freedom of heart and mind. Improvising. Exploring ideas I came up with that day. Opening up. Wresting with myself. Talking to my mother who was there. It was crazy. But I made the giant that is Carnegie Hall work on my terms. I made it small. I made it intimate. I made it mine. I felt it. It was humbling and thrilling. I’m so glad people were there to see it. I did two hours.

After the show I walked 50 blocks back to my hotel. 20 of them with Tom, decompressing, doing a little post-mortem. Then 30 solo. Walking through NYC on a crisp fall night after just killing at Carnegie Hall and feeling good about my life was almost mystical. Joy. Relief. I did it.

I feel like it was a major accomplishment and it made me look at what I do in a new way. I’m going to relax. I’m going to pace myself. I’m going to work at my pace in all that I do from here on out. There’s no struggle on that level any more.

Thanks for being with me.

Today on the show I talk to journalist Sam Quinones about his enlightening, amazing book, ‘Dreamland: The True Tale of Americas Opiate Epidemic.' On Thursday I talk show biz with Shep Gordon, a true wizard behind the curtain, whose book ‘They Call Me Supermensch’ is full of great stories.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Stressful.

Well, Folks.

This is it. The week I do Carnegie Hall. I wish I was more excited than full of dread and anxiety but I guess that will never change. If it does, it will be because I’ve chosen to quit comedy. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I am touring a bit in the spring. I’ve moved some dates up. So if you live in Nashville, TN, Chicago, Tallahassee, FL, Durham, NC, Charlotte, NC, Ridgefield, CT, Portsmouth, NH, New Haven, CT, Troy, NY or Burlington, VT, you should check the tour schedule at wtfpod.com. Might have a gig coming in Montreal as well. Will let you know. Might be the last tour for a while, so come see me if you can.

I know you are all hanging in suspense as to how I handled the Buster’s balls situation. Well, it’s done. They’re gone. The night I decided to do it my other cat, LaFonda, started acting sick. She wasn’t eating and was just generally lethargic. The next day I took them both in. I went back to get Buster who seemed pretty chipper for a eunuch but LaFonda had to stay for tests and rehydration. The vet said she had lost a few pounds in the last couple of years. I gave him the okay to do whatever tests necessary. A thousand bucks later there were apparently more tests that could be done. 

I want to trust vets. I think my vet is okay. He’s odd. He’s a bit erratic but for some dumb reason I’ve been going there for over a decade even though he basically tried to fleece me. We put up with it but it pissed me off this time. My cats are oldish. LaFonda is 12. He showed me the x-rays and said she had a bronchial infection but it looked like she could have congestive heart failure. He then showed me another ‘normal’ x-ray for me to compare. I couldn’t tell. In order to diagnose congestive heart failure he had to do and echocardiogram. Then we discussed the reality that my cats (not Buster) are too freaked out to really administer medication to. So, if they have a chronic condition it would just be a waiting game until I have to put them down. But I need to know the results of the echocardiogram in order for him to properly medicate the bronchial infection without hurting her.  

I went back the next day; he said I should take her home. He said he would get the results for the echocardiogram on Monday. It was Saturday. He said for a couple hundred bucks he could get the results in a couple of hours. I said what difference would it make. They were closing and he couldn’t treat her with more steroids until Monday and he had medicated her as much as he could without knowing what the results were. I said no. 

Two hours later he called to tell me he got the results and she didn’t have the heart condition. That last $200 felt like a cash grab and made me doubt it all. I was pissed at him. Meanwhile, she’s still ill. Then Monkey got sick the next day and I had to bring him in. The vet said his liver was too big and it might be cancer but we would have to biopsy to be sure. His vitals were fine and aside from a big liver his insides looked good. I took him home. I’m not going put him through that.

It’s not even the money. It’s the fact that vets DO take advantage of sad people with sick animals. I had all 3 cats there this weekend. Buster is fine. The other two are not great and they went through all the stress of going there. LaFonda pissed in the crate on the way home and it was so sad seeing her slide around in her own pee. We were five minutes from home. I got her home and she scrambled down the hall leaving a trail of urine like a little frenetic feline mop head. So sad. Monkey stayed over night and he shit in the box at the vet. Now they are both home and under the bed and I don’t know what’s going to happen. Stressful.

Scary, sad Halloween.

That’s the awful thing about being a pet parent. When and if your kid makes it into double digits they are close to starting their own lives. With pets, they are ending theirs.

Today on the show the mastermind and wizard behind Pink Floyd, Roger Waters, talks to me in the garage. On Thursday the man who fronts the band ‘Endless Boogie’ and also set the standard for a specific type of vinyl record nerdism, Paul Major, talks to me with his band mate Jesper Eklow.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

I'm Procrastinating.

Things are horrible but fine. Given that I have to accept the chaos and stupidity that is humanity as a constant and just hope for the best and do what I can as we all stumble around in our individual styles of somnambulism, I’m doing okay. Okay is good. Okay is fucking great.  Okay is not dead or dying for the time being outside of time just passing by.

We lost a great comic. Kevin Meaney passed away. I hadn’t seen him lately and it was very bad news to hear. He was an original. He had a powerful impact on many of the comedians you see today. He was a relentlessly funny performer.

So, I’m procrastinating on something. I really have to get my kitten’s balls cut off but I’m having a hard time doing it. I know it’s the right thing to do. It might make him less likely to spray in my house. It might make him less crazy. It might make him less likely to bolt out the door every time I open it and possibly go knock up some cat down the street. Still, as a dude, I project. I wouldn’t want anyone to do that to me. I wouldn’t want to be picked up, put in a box and carted off to strange place and have my balls cut off, then be brought back home and expect to go on living life like nothing happened AND to like the person who was responsible. I imagine that’s a good metaphor for a honeymoon in some relationships but it isn’t my life. 

I’m having a difficult time doing it because I think that Buster Kitten deserves his balls. He earned them. He survived the mean streets as a child, nearly dying, and now he is safe and should be able to be the little cat king that he is. It isn’t fair to old Monkey that Buster gets to keep his nads. Monkey has been without nuts for years. It just isn’t right that I have some little stud flaunting his set in his face and beating up on him at every turn. I owe it to the old guy to take care of this. I will. I just decided as I wrote this. Buster’s balls have to go to preserve and respect the old cat Monkey. That is the house cat life.

Carnegie Hall is about 100 tickets shy of selling out which is very exciting. I’ve been doing long sets all weekend and I’m feeling good about the big show. The tour in the spring should be good as well. We are moving toward shooting a special somewhere but I haven’t decided where yet. Let me know if you have any ideas. I’m sort of thinking Minneapolis. There are a few new dates for this year and into the next on the calendar. Have a look. I may be coming to your city or nearby.

Today I talk to Sarah Jessica Parker who is as lovely as you would assume. I was all nervous and gushy to meet her. It's a good talk. On Thursday I have an amazing long chat with Ron Howard. He has a lot to talk about. He’s been in show business since he was like 4.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

A Great American Industry.

What’s happening, folks?

I have been working my ass off on all fronts.

I wonder why I am shattered and confused and tired and anxious. There’s always a lot going on. Between shooting the show, doing standup, working on the WTF book, doing the podcast and trying to have a life, it’s a lot. I have to start thinking about taking a vacation for real as opposed to thinking about disappearing and going off the grid and being a comfortable hermit for rest of it. I already have a hard time compartmentalizing and now with so much going on I’m managing the chaos of expectations, others and mine. I literally feel like I am short-circuiting sometimes. I’m glad I don’t have children. I just don’t think I could handle it. Some things happen for a reason. I’m barely nice to my cats sometimes.

When you are on a big shoot like ‘GLOW’ you really see how much is involved in making even five minutes of filmed television. There are a lot of moving parts involved and a lot of people involved in the production. I get sick of people who are either jealous or ignorant of the process who think that the entertainment business is some cakewalk for the people that work in the industry. You may not like a show or celebrity culture or whatever you think ‘show business’ is or ‘Hollywood people’ are but there a lot of hardworking people in this racket. Lights, camera and action all take a lot to get up on their feet and it's real work, hard work. It’s a great American industry, so try not to be condescending or dismissive of people doing the job. Lights, trucks, props, writing, cameras, catering, transport, hair, make up, actors, writers, producers, directors, assistant directors, stand-ins, sound people, wardrobe, script supervisors, set design, builders, electricians, etc. It’s a lot jobs and a lot of work. So, don’t be a dick about it just because you don’t like your job or you didn’t have the courage to pursue your dream or you’ve got some skewed idea about what show business is.

There are about one hundred or so tickets left for my Carnegie Hall show if you want to get tickets. Just a heads up.

Also, don’t forget the ‘ Now Hear This’ festival is next week. Come check out more than 30 podcasts, live all weekend. It's October 28th through 30th at the Anaheim Marriott, and the special WTF show with me and Brendan McDonald is on Saturday, the 29th.  Get tickets at NowHearThis­Fest­.com and see the full lineup. You can use the offer cod WTF when you buy tickets to get 25% off General Admission.

Today on the show I talk to David Crosby. He’s a legend and a survivor and a surprisingly sweet guy. On Thursday I talk to comedy road warrior Rich Shydner about his new book. Anthony Bourdain also has a new book out, so he stops by for a few minutes. Good week. Good talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Apology Research.

Hello, People!

FYI! Carnegie Hall is really almost sold out. So… Nashville 11/19, Chicago 12/3, lets get those moving. Make a trip out of it!

I’m writing this before I watch the debate but I’m sure it will be fucking ridiculous and embarrassing.

I’ve been nostalgic lately. I’m not sure that is the word I want. Waves of very specific memories are coming at me out of nowhere and I follow them back. I don’t think that’s nostalgic because I’m not really thinking about it on purpose. It seems like being nostalgic is an action. Is all nostalgia inherently sad because it is the past? I don’t know. 

I am realizing that working on a show that is set in the mid-eighties must be having an effect. I am surrounded by women who are outfitted for that period. I was alive and awake during that time. I was in my early twenties. It’s a very specific look. I was not really happy then. Things were not easy for me emotionally. I think the set is a trigger and I'm being roped into reliving memories that were not easy for me or anyone I was involved with. They aren’t tragic, just uncomfortable, awkward and embarrassing. Some are painful. I was not a bad guy, but I did not have a handle on my heart really and I think it might have done some damage to itself and others. It’s so long ago. I’m sure there is nothing pressing that needs to be resolved but when you really immerse yourself in your past pain it feels like it still needs to be relieved. I mean, I’m over it and I’m sure others that were involved are too, but still. Is there closure that needs to happen? Probably. I have to get on Facebook and do some apology research.

I was pretty thrilled to talk to Larry Clark on today’s show. I wanted to be a photographer at one point. I did some pretty important art photography at Highland High School. It was largely unappreciated and not taken seriously but I did win a Best of Show ribbon at the art show when I was a senior. It was a powerful image that involved mannequins, a ladder, a television that was on and a work light. It’s hanging in my house. 

I minored in film criticism in college, which was an art history minor.  I took a yearlong survey class on the history of photography with Carl Chiarenza at Boston University. It was one of the most important educational experiences of my life. A lot came together for me. The biggest thing was that I was not really cut out to be a photographer because I just couldn’t manage the technical end in the darkroom. That was the real craft that separated the pros from the amateurs. Now, that doesn’t even matter anymore. 

Larry Clark was a groundbreaking, somewhat gonzo, photojournalist that used people in his life as his subjects and his two books, Tulsa and Teenage Lust, are some raw, beautiful art. I’m also a big fan of some of his films. He talked, a lot, and fast. Hold on to you seats.

I was also really fucking excited to talk to Margo Price, which you will hear on Thursday. I think she is one of the best country artists working today. We talked about Bobbie Gentry, who I love, and I’m glad we had that in common.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

At This Point In My Life.

People!
 
How are things?

Things are very busy on my end. The GLOW shoot is going well. We are a couple of weeks in and as far as I can tell the people in charge are into what I am doing. Which is good. I also get to wear groovy pants and boots, which is great. I had to lose the soul patch but that was a sacrifice I was willing to make and no one really seems to notice in my real life.

Carnegie Hall is actually almost sold out. There are some tickets there but if you are holding out for whatever reason you should pull the trigger. I have Chicago coming up in December as well for two shows. You should probably jump on that as well.

Something is happening. I am getting all choked up too much. Over nothing. Cute things. Songs. Other people’s emotions. I think I know what is going on. It’s a midlife thing but not in a bad way. I did just have a birthday which may not mean much but I am really in my fifties now and something seems to be shaking loose in my heart. Something seems to be easing and it feels weird. Scary even. I can’t seem to maintain the defenses that have defined me for all of my conscious life. I’m onto myself in some new way. Like I know when I’m not being my true self. Obviously, all of us have to behave certain ways to get through the day and be appropriate in all kinds of ways. We know when we are being disingenuous or holding back. Some of us know we have a public personality that isn’t quite who we are.

I’ve just been feeling emotionally young but not in a cliché way. I know I’m not the most emotionally mature person. That’s a given. It’s one of my deep flaws. Over the years, I’ve managed to poorly parent myself enough to exist in the world. Lately I’ve been remembering the different versions of myself that took charge or didn’t at different points in my life. Because of that, how I am feeling now could be a regression. I don’t thing so though. I think I might just finally be ready to pick up where I left off. I don’t think that word regression can be used lightly because it has negative connotations in some way. I am not going back to old behavior. I’m picking up where my defenses started protecting me from feeling sad and rejected. It’s awkward but I think it's good. It’s uncomfortable because I think I stopped growing emotionally a long time ago and I can’t go back or else I’d have to do my Bar Mitzvah over and fumble around with boobs for the first time. Which wouldn’t be horrible but I like having some experiential wisdom at this point in my life.

Today I talk to comedian Rachel Feinstein who I have known for a while but she lives in NYC and this is the first time we were able to make it happen. On Thursday Hutch Harris of the band The Thermals talks to me about music and stuff. I saw them years ago at SXSW and I was mildly obsessed for a while so it was great talking to him.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

The Amazement of the Kid.

Hey, People!

It’s odd. You do something for almost your entire adult life and some part of you somewhere inside doesn’t register that experience or wisdom. Some part of you stays insulated, young and scared. 

I don’t think the idea of ‘self-parenting’ ever really registered with me. I understand it as a concept, intellectually, but I don’t think I’ve ever consciously engaged it, ever. I do it. I don’t do it well. I do it instinctively because I have no choice at my core if I want to succeed at anything. After a point it’s really about persistence and rising to the fucking occasion no matter what, over and over and over, until that sad, scared kid can't dictate your emotions or confidence. That doesn’t mean it’s not a struggle sometimes. I think too much and a lot of that thought goes into me trying to talk myself out of the fact that I’m okay. I’m more than okay. I am doing well.

I’ve just been surprised lately that waves of insecurity and self-hatred are coming at me intensely. In a way they haven’t in years. I’ve been struggling to interpret them. Why now? I mean, I talk about this shit all the time but when I’m sitting in my hotel room feeling like I don’t work hard enough or I’m a fraud or I’m not funny or I’m fat or I have no real friends or I’m not capable of being happy or I don’t know who I am or or or… I have to really try to source where that shit is coming from.

I was just in Boston at the Wilbur for two shows and they were really great. The crowds were amazing and I had a good time on stage. So, why was I laying in my hotel room before the shows full of dread and fear about whether or not I could do them? I know in the past that was the way I prepared. I didn’t want that to be the way but that was just the way my brain worked. I would freak out to the point where the show seemed like it a matter of life or death. My whole sense of self relied on how I did. Sometimes things would work out and sometimes I would be so shattered it would take days to put myself back together. It doesn’t help in any way to allow that much panic and anxiety to fuel your life. You’re adding a mountainous obstacle to something that is already challenging. 

I come from panicky people who were never really capable of making me feel like everything was going to be okay because they didn’t believe it. Even if it was a lie, it’s not a horrible thing to tell a kid. Let them learn on their own that it may not be okay for while or ever but there’s nothing wrong with convincing them that it will be eventually be okay so that they can use that idea to get through the times when it's not. I never really had that. I never believed it. So, now that things are okay, for now, why should I believe it?

So, while I was laying there in my room in Boston, a place where I went through a lot of difficult changes and emotional upheaval earlier in my life, both professionally and personally, I did not think it was going to be okay. The parts of me that were created there, in college and then doing horrible comedy shows, were triggered. It was definitely not okay then. I was not okay. My parents were right. It’s not okay. So, that kid takes over occasionally. The kid that knows deep in his heart that it will not be okay. Fortunately, the man I am has been through a lot of shit and may not be perfect or right most of the time but is capable of walking that kid across the street, over the mountain the kid made, to the club to do my job and be present for it, to the amazement of the kid.

Today I talk to Katie Couric. How can you not love Katie Couric? On Thursday I sit down with one of the best songwriters ever, John Prine. It was a treat to be with both my guests this week.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

A Necessary Occupation.

Yes, People.

Heading into the first week of shooting and I’m nervous. I’m trying to keep that a nice healthy nervousness as opposed to the paralyzing anxious nervousness that would do me no good. I’m going to try just calling it excitement and see how that works. Sometimes giving something a new name works. Yup, it’s working. I’m excited. Yeah, that’s what I am. EXCITED.

So, shoes, boots. They need work. They need to be fixed. Everyone needs a shoe guy. I guess not everyone but people who wear shoes that need to be resoled do. I pretty much only wear boots of one kind or another. I don’t know if I can fully explain the joy of getting your boots resoled. It’s like adding life to hurting, old friends who you’ve grown to rely on to carry you through life. It’s a very personal relationship one has with their shoes. All it takes is a shitty shoe repair guy to fuck up that relationship. You don’t want to put your feet friends into an uncomfortable situation with a repair job that isn’t quite right. It might kill them. So, your relationship with your shoe guy has to be one of trust. They have to be the real deal. They have to have the grit and experience to work their magic. It’s a fucking craft, man. It’s a life. It’s a necessary occupation.

I went to a guy in my hood a couple of times. This guy George. He’s an old dude. I think he may be Armenian. He has an edge to him. He’s a big guy. He smokes in his shop, which I like. When you walk into a shoe repair place there should be smells: Leather, oils, glues and cigarettes. George had all that going on. Also there should be old, dusty display cases with purses that never sold and hooks with old laces and maybe a shelf of polish and shoe products that look like they’ve been there for years. I mean, you can get that kind of shit online or at other stores. That’s not their business. What’s essential in that space is their expertise. George had it but was a little too detached and a bit angry. He said he used to do subcontract work for Red Wing as he poked around in his supply of heels looking for the size that would fit my boots. He put them on in a few days and also sharpened some knives for me. This guy had two old timey skills but the heels didn’t look or feel quite right. My boots weren’t happy. There was no love in his work and my boots were mad at me for letting him fuck with them.

So, I brought my other boots to a guy I kind of remember having worked on my shoes once before, Haruts on Eagle Rock Blvd. I walked in and there was a little, old man there at the counter. He was attached to a portable respirator that had about 30 feet of tube so he could move around the shop. That’s commitment. All the requisite stuff was there but I felt a little uncomfortable for him. He said he just got out of the hospital a while back and was just getting back into work. I’m ashamed to say I felt weird leaving my boots there because if he died before he fixed them I wasn’t sure if it would be easy to get them back. I wanted him to have the work though. It was clearly his life and I was willing to lose the boots or deal with the sad possibility of him not making it to have him work on my shoes. I left them there for a couple of weeks and picked them up the other day. When I turned them over to see the new soles and heels I got a warm feeling in my whole body. It was fucking art. They were beautiful. He had molded the heels and sole perfectly to the boot with little divots in the arch and a light polish on the sole itself. There was a lot of love and craft in it and I just looked at him standing there behind the counter with his tube beneath his nose and said, ‘Great job!’ He put out his fist for a little bump and wandered back into the shop. I don’t ever want to wear them. I just want to be able to turn them over and look at them for as long as I can feel that feeling of warmth that comes from seeing a job well done.

Today I talk to comedian Geoff Tate. He’s an Ohio guy and we get into some good stuff about narcissistic parents. Also, today I talk to Nick Kroll and John Mulaney about their show ‘Oh, Hello’ which is opening on Broadway. Thursday is a Jazz double-header with two separate talks, one with music critic Ben Ratliff and the other with sax wizard Kamasi Washington.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron

Deliverance is Tenuous.

Hi, Folks.

Just a heads up, there are a few tickets left for my Carnegie Hall show on November 4. If you want to come you should snag them. I’m also going to be in Boston at The Wilbur Theatre on September 24. There are some tickets left for the late show. On October 21 I’ll be in Santa Barbara, CA at Campbell Hall at UCSB if you are in the area. I’ll be doing two LA shows in October, one at Largo on October 22 and one at The Ice House on October 23.

It’s been a good week. After I spent a few days in New Mexico I flew to NYC to meet up with Sarah. Her opening at Galerie LeLong was great. I lot of people came out. I want to thank all of you who heard about it on the show for being there. What was interesting to me was that so many of you are artists. So many listeners that introduced themselves to me told me they were painters. I guess it's nice to have some conversation going on in the background when you are focusing in on that canvas or chipping away at that rock or assembling that assemblage or moving it all around on a screen. I’m amazed at the type of people that listen to my show. It makes me happy to know that so many of you are out there trying to summon the spirit of expression through art. 
I get cynical and self-involved often, as you know. I’m not always thinking about what it takes for creative people that aren’t in my world to keep creating and keep taking risks. I get insulated. My relationship with Sarah has engaged me with painting and fine art in a way I have never been engaged. It has also let me see the insane focus and determination and creative impulse and confidence required to do art, to paint. I mean, shit, I talk and think. Occasionally I say something inspired or spit out a little poetry. I engage with people. It’s immediate. I commend all of you who are out there alone in a space with the raw materials and tools you have chosen as your ritual instruments of your craft to make the magic that is your being and catalyst of transcendence. Art is a tough racket. Deliverance is tenuous. Carry on.

After NYC I went up to Rochester to do four shows at The Comedy Club in Webster. The place is a great comedy room. It’s the real deal. All of my shows were hot as fuck. Literally. I guess it’s unusual for the area to have temperatures in the 90s for as long they have. I guess the AC just couldn’t hold up under the pressure of the humidity. I don’t know. I do know that after every show I was drenched with sweat. It was really the only time that has ever happened to me from actual heat on stage. I did four hour-and-a-half shows and within twenty minutes of being on stage for every one I was soaked. The audience was hot as fuck too so we were all in it together. I think we might have lost a few pounds or at the very least sweat out some toxins. It was a comedy show/sweat lodge. A mystical ritual. Thanks for coming out!

Today I talk to Ron Perlman. Ron was in a couple episodes of the last season of ‘Maron’ but I’m sure you know him from all his other work. Sweet guy. Good talk. On Thursday my comedian pal Chris Garcia talks about his trip to Cuba where he met a lot of his family for the first time and he also talks about having a parent battling dementia. Great talk. Good guy.

Enjoy!

Boomer lives!

Love,

Maron