Get Noisy.

Good news, People!
 
Sometimes collective action can save lives. 
 
At the beginning of the month, I talked about an Iranian comic named Zeinab Mousavi. She was arrested in Iran for telling jokes about the government and the police, and she was sentenced to two years in prison after already spending a month in solitary confinement. 
 
We were told that the most effective thing anyone could do was raise attention about Zeinab, because the Iranian government doesn't like when things get noisy. 
 
Well, we were told last week that the government has thrown out Zeinab's prison sentence. And we were told that the only reason they did not put her back in jail was because of the media attention. 
 
She is still barred from doing standup comedy again, but she will continue to make videos on Instagram. 
 
Everyone who took the time to boost Zeinab's story on social media helped keep this woman out of jail. Something that only takes a moment of your time can be the difference in securing someone else's freedom.
 
There are still thousands of Iranians in prison for speaking out against the current regime. 
 
Two we were told about are Toomaj Salehi, a rapper who is in solitary and faces execution for his songs, and Fatemeh Sepehri, a women's rights activist who faces an 18-year sentence for saying the Supreme Leader should resign. 
 
Put their names out there. We will post them on our socials. And do this whenever you learn of political prisoners in Iran. Zeinab is proof that you can make a difference just by saying their names. 
 
On another note, I appreciate all the emails and tweets to me from Fermentation Fetishists. I know I was excited about making my own kraut but I don’t want to make a life out of it. I’m not planning on going down a rabbit hole of rotting vegetables but I did want to know how to do it. 
 
Also, I finally finished Tim Blake Nelson’s novel City of Blows and it was very satisfying and well written. He nails the ending which isn’t always the case with novels. It’s a great read about nasty show business. 
 
Today I talk to Austin Butler about being Elvis and having a hard time shaking the accent and other things. On Thursday I talk to Hong Chau about The Whale and feeling left out and other things. Great talks.
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monday and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

The Belz.

So many deaths, People.

I guess that’s what happens. Wait. I’m sure that’s what happens. To all of us. 
 
I’m at an age where I see a lot of the people I knew and looked up to in the generation or two before mine die. It’s a natural thing. It is the norm. It’s not as hard as seeing peers pass somehow but it’s sad and jarring when the news comes in. 
 
Richard Belzer, The Belz, is dead. He was 78.
 
Belzer was a like a mythological being to me when I was kid. In the early to mid-seventies when I was starting to become obsessed with standups and funny people I read an article. I think it was in Rolling Stone. It was about the original Catch a Rising Star, the club in NYC. It was all about the house MC, Richard Belzer. In my recollection it described him as an edgy, button-pushing, drugged up maniac of a comic. I was fascinated with anyone who was a drugged up anything. The article describe him doing a Mick Jagger impression and basically being a menace of a clown on stage in between acts. I was blown away by just the idea that this guy existed. I hadn’t heard of him or seen any of his comedy. It was kind of hard to come by. The concept of Belz was burned into my mind. 
 
At some point I saw the movie The Groove Tube and there was Belz in the cast with a pre-SNL Chevy Chase. He was in a sketch called The Dealers and to this day I think he actually vomited in the car. This just solidified him in my mind as a rebel and cool fuck up. 
 
After I started doing comedy and meeting some of the older guys I would hear stories here and there about him but he stayed the badass in that story in my mind for a long time. 
 
He was never a huge comic but he was The Belz.
 
When I got to LA in the mid-eighties and took the job as a doorman at The Comedy Store I was amazed and thrilled to find out that Richard was a regular there and doing spots. The Belz was around. I remember meeting him in the kitchen of the Store and just feeling beside myself. It was fucking Richard Belzer. The guy from that article. The myth. 
 
I would see him do sets all the time and I got to know him. I was busy losing my mind on cocaine but he understood. He never judged. He was one of the nicest guys I’ve met in this business. He kind of looked out for me a bit. He would drive up in his Eldorado and always wore a suit. Class act. We would get high in the back and talk and he’d tell stories sometimes. Because of that story I read when I was a kid I always felt like he somehow was part of the reason I did comedy. 
 
I didn’t watch Homicide or Law & Order so I don’t know him as Munch but I knew him as a sweet guy, a funny guy, a real mensch who I looked up to. 
 
We were in touch here and there over the years and I’m sorry we weren’t closer and I’m sorry he never did the show. 
 
I will remember Richard fondly and with love and respect. 
 
Today I talk to the formidable Michelle Yeoh about here amazing career and life. On Thursday I talk to the Daniels (Kwan and Scheinert) who directed Michelle in Everything Everywhere All at Once. Enjoyed both conversations immensely. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

The Rearview.

Coming in for landing, Friends!
 
It’s been a long haul but the premiere of my HBO special, From Bleak to Dark, is the end of this story arc. I’m trying not to feel it as the crashing of a wave. I felt that creeping, empty sadness after it aired on Saturday. It’s normal. 
 
I underplayed the night it premiered a bit. Not on purpose but it seems I do that. I remember my very first television appearance. It was An Evening at the Improv. I had flown to LA. I didn’t rent a car. I stayed in Santa Monica near where it was being taped. I bought a shirt that day at Stussy which looked nothing like anything I would wear. I wore it. After the taping I took a bus back to my hotel with my girlfriend at the time. Show business. The glamor. 
 
The other night wasn’t the same. I was alone in a hotel. I didn’t know if I could get HBO. I did an IG live trying to find my special on the TV in my room. I laid there and watched it. When it was done I packed my bags and went to sleep. 
 
I knew the entire build up and the experience of doing it would fade fast in the rearview. I mean, I’m excited it’s out there but when you worked towards something on many different levels for a couple of years and now it’s done it does feel like a loss somehow. I know it is out there being found and now I can see how people react to it. But now what?
 
I want to thank all of you for supporting me along the way. All the listeners, audiences and the plague IG crew, the girlfriends on the couch. It was a group effort getting here. 
 
I had fun in NYC and somehow remained vegetarian, even vegan, as far as I know. I have a feeling there may have been some animal fat in something I ate. Ghee, perhaps. Instead of corned beef and sable I had knishes and baba ganoush. Brendan and I ate at Dirt Candy and it wasn’t just amazing vegan food, it was just amazing food like nothing I ever experienced. 
 
I did the tonight show in my new suit. It’s always fun talking to Fallon. He’s a good listener, engaged. He asked me if I wanted to play with The Roots going out to a commercial. I said, ‘absolutely.’ Before the show we decided on a key and I put my pick in my pocket. All I could think about the entire time I was talking was nailing that first lick. I had less than a minute to land the riff. I was told Quest would count us in but they were already kind playing lightly in A. I strapped in, looked at Quest, laid out the first riff and he just picked up the groove from me and off we went. The most amazing thing was I was locked in and attentive enough to see him call the change to the 4 and I was able to land on it. Thrilling. 
 
I’m excited to get home to the three dummies. 
 
Today I talk to Marc Summers about starting out as a magician and being standup at The Comedy Store and then hosting TV shows. Also, OCD, cancer, car accidents and Burt Reynolds. On Thursday Tim Blake Nelson is back to talk about his new novel City of Blows. We talk about other stuff as well. The book is great. Great talks. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

Kraut Time.

Brining, People!
 
It takes me a long time to come around to trying things. I literally just recently took the low E string off my Les Paul Jr. and tuned it to an open G like Keef! I learned how to play two Rolling Stones tunes and they sound exactly correct. It’s wild. 
 
So, in the spirit of trying new things I should’ve done long ago, I ordered a ceramic crock. A kraut crock. I’m a cabbage addict. I don’t really know why, but I eat a lot of cabbage. I make curtido and red cabbage slaw almost weekly. So, now, it’s Kraut Time. I ordered weights and a lid and I have a few recipes. I am going to ferment. My gut garden is going to be perfect. Maybe it’s a change of life and passions. A new business. We’ll see. There’s probably already a ‘Kraut Guy’ somewhere. I’ll have to figure out a catchy name. ‘Gut Gardener.’
 
I’m still doing the vegan thing. Today is two weeks. Again, I am not committing to a lifestyle. I am conducting an experiment. I want to see the true effect diet has on my cholesterol verses genetics. I wouldn’t mind not being on a statin. 
 
There have been some odd side effects of not eating meat. I believe I am closer to my cats. I know, cats are meat eating animals. That is how they are wired. So, we feed them mush and pellets made of god knows what parts of what animals. It’s fine for them. Cats have no conscience. That is not the point. The point is, because I am not unnecessarily eating animals, I feel close to them as animals. Maybe I’m crazy but I think all the animals know that I am not eating them. The birds in my yard. The squirrels. The rabbit. I think we have a deeper understanding of each other and we are all pretty scared of coyotes. 
 
I’ve started creatine loading. I’m not even sure what that means. I know I’m taking it. My trainer lady suggested it. She said it might help my joint pain. I did some reading. I think it might make me ripped and it’s about fucking time. Finally, at 59, I’m going to be cut. Maybe I’ll start competing in whatever competition that old ripped men compete in. Maybe I can become a pro wrestler. The Gut Gardner. It’s all going to work out. 
 
So, I’m doing a lot of comedy. New comedy. I guess that’s what I do. If everything goes as planned I will be on The Tonight Show this Friday. I’ll also be doing a moderated talk with Josh Friedman at MoMA for the 92nd Street Y. You can get tickets at wtfpod.com/tour.
 
Today I have a surprising talk with Wayne Brady. You have no idea who he is, even if you think you do. On Thursday, we're airing a condensed version of the whole ‘Wrestling with Marc’ series. Good time. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

My Portal.

Clean slate, People. 

After my forced, jarring cleanse for a colonoscopy last weekend I’ve decided to go plant based for as long as I can take it. 
 
It’s not great. I don’t like the feeling. 
 
I’ve been at it a week. The shift into a vegan diet has been abrupt, I guess, but I didn’t think it would feel like this. I feel like a bag of beans. Maybe because that’s what I am. Literally eating too many beans. 
 
I’ve always had a healthy fear of carbs because in my mind and in reality, if you are not careful with them you will put on weight. The shift into eating a lot of them makes me a little crazy. Even though I’m eating whole foods like brown rice, beans, nuts it still feels gross to me. Protein seems difficult with this diet when I’m used to eating fish, meat and chicken. I feel bloated and gross and uncomfortable in my body. Which is not a good indicator that I will stay on this diet. I’ve done worse to alleviate that feeling. 
 
In the past, I’ve done coke, speed and started smoking to avoid feeling like that. Of course, in retrospect, those were excuses to do coke, speed and smoke. I know that now. 
 
I guess my body will adapt and I can do a little research into how to eat correctly while doing this. 
 
I eat pretty well in general. I was just slipping into habits that almost seem self-destructive. I had been on a meat run. I am genetically predisposed to high cholesterol and I already have a bit of the heart disease. I take a statin but still, I got into a ‘fuck it’ mentality and I was just eating a lot of meat. I know some people think cholesterol doesn’t matter but it does. I know people think clean meat is good, but it still clogs your heart. I was also eating a lot of sugar and I guess no matter how fit you may be that doesn’t mean you won’t get diabetes. I was just in a rationalization rut and I wasn’t pulling out. The colonoscopy was my portal. Clean slate. 
 
People always bug me about meat. They say things like, ‘how can you eat animals when you have cats?’ Well, I’m not going to eat my cats AND cats eat animals. They have to. We forget that because we feed them animal mush and dried animal bits that don’t look like animal parts. Also, I don’t have a pet cow or chicken or a salmon run in a moat around my house. I think that would make me feel differently. 
 
I’m not committed to a vegan lifestyle or point of view. I just wanted to feel it. I’ve done this before. Even though I feel physically uncomfortable I think it may be affecting my mind, in a positive way. I can’t prove that but maybe. 
 
My energy is better when I wake up for sure. I feel a bit lighter emotionally and a bit more forgiving. Could that be not eating meat or dairy for a week? No idea. 
 
Truth be told, my primary incentive for doing it is prep for a blood panel tomorrow. I want to see if it affects my numbers. I’m cheating, kind of. I’ll let you know what happens. I’ll stick with it for a bit. 
 
Today I talk to Radhika Jones about being editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair and the necessity of public intellectual discourse in the face of, and as a response to, the normalization of American fascism. On Thursday I talk to Dave Franco about his life and his new film which stars his wife and my old co-star, Alison Brie.
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

A Routine Test.

Welcome back, People.
 
That’s a reset. Old school radio stuff. Not hard to learn and totally unnecessary in podcasting. Just saying. 
 
I think I need a reset and today might be the day. As I sit here writing this on Sunday, I am fasting and just waiting around to go to the bathroom. I have a colonoscopy tomorrow which is today if you are reading this on Monday. It’s probably happening right now. You’re welcome for the image. 
 
The day before is the worst. Just drinking stuff to give yourself massive diarrhea. Waiting. The only benefit of intentional runs is you know it’s coming and you know why. 
 
Knowing it’s coming is something you want with your health. I think. Maybe not everyone but I do. I guess. That’s why I’m going in for a routine test. I want to know what’s up. Because you don’t want to die just because you didn’t want to get your routine tests or you just don’t get them because you’re scared or an idiot. We’ll see if everything is okay. I’ll get to see an exciting video voyage through my colon. If I’m lucky it will be clean and pristine. 
 
Sorry if this is too graphic. 
 
Knowing it’s coming. It’s a theme I think about because I need to change up my food routine. It has gotten away from me. I already have a bit of heart disease. I’m already on a statin. I just have been consuming so much meat and sugar lately. It's totally stupid and I know I’m doing it. There’s something about being an addict of any kind that makes your reward system totally destructive. Some part of my mind believes I deserve all the steak and cake. Because I like it. Food is fun and I want to eat whatever the fuck I want. That’s one side of it. The other side of is much simpler. ‘Fuck it. I’m going to die of something. Why not this?’
 
Meat-and-sugar-brain is powerful. 
 
I’m thinking that today my colon is clean. I don’t know if there’s something wrong with it yet but I know it's empty. I’m thinking I should start fresh and just put good things in there. Plant things. Maybe I’ll vegan it for a while to see if I feel better. I never feel great. I think it may be my diet. Maybe I’ll try to change it. It doesn’t feel like it will happen if I keep saying maybe. 
 
We’ll see. 
 
Today I talk to Sarah Polley about her amazing film Women Talking and sexual assault and her life. Thursday, I talk to Brendan Fraser about The Whale and sexual assault and his life. These are great conversations, heavy. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

A Real Band.

Rock, People!
 
Me and the fellas played Largo last night. I have to be honest. I never in my life thought that I would ever play with a band. I’d given up on that idea a long time ago. I never thought I was good enough and I didn’t want to have expectations about playing music. I didn’t want to put myself in a position to fail with music. If I screw up playing by myself, who cares? I’m just noodling on my couch. So, I never pursued playing with people in any real way. 
 
At the urging of Flanegan over at Largo, who set me up with Brandon Schwartzel on bass and Ned Brower on drums, I started playing with them. Then Jimmy Vivino came on board. It was all intimidating but not unlike when I got my own show on IFC, I knew I would suck for a while. I also knew that I was good enough to do it. There’s just no cutting corners with practice and adapting and just learning how to relax and do something that you are ready to do. 
 
All this is to say, the show was great last night. It felt like a real band. I’m comfortable with the rhythm section and we had a new guy on second guitar, Jason Roberts. I still fucked up a few times but I was comfortable. I never thought that could happen. So much of it has to do with a music-related trauma that I suffered years ago when I was 15 at a summer camp.  I’ve told the story before. I don’t want to tell it again. It was just a profoundly embarrassing failure trying to play music with a bunch of dudes. It was devastating. Over the last five or six years I’ve been trying to process the PTSD by playing and singing here and there to mixed results in terms of how I felt about it.
 
The other night marked the first time I was free from the fear in a real way. We did a bunch of covers like we usually do but a couple of them were actually kind of transcendent in the playing. A Tim Hardin via Crazy Horse version of If I Were a Carpenter and a fairly true version of Johnny Thunders' You Can Put Your Arms Around a Memory. We did other songs but those just felt just right. Although we did have to restart the Thunders because I fucked up. 
 
Now I just have to shut up about my fear and insecurity around playing in between songs and I’ll be recovered from the horrible music trauma of my youth. 
 
I guess the reason I’m telling you this is because I don’t like to try. I do it, but I don’t like it. I don’t like to fail. If you don’t try you can’t fail, but you also can’t feel what it feels like to possibly succeed. I don’t like to practice. If you don’t practice you can’t really get good or comfortable with expressing yourself. I don’t ever see myself as practicing. I just do the thing. If I love it or if it seems to make me feel present, I just keep doing it. It becomes my life. There’s only a few things I’ve done all my life and all the time. Comedy, playing guitar and talking to people on the mics. I just kept doing all of them but I never thought I would share the music. Too scary. Not anymore. 
 
I keep trying with all the things I use to express myself. It’s what being alive is for me. I just don’t register ‘practice.’ I just do. 
 
I don’t like to write either. I kind of hate it but I write this thing every week. For years now. I don’t even know if people read it. Again, I get on the page. I share the life to live. 
 
Today I talk to Todd Field about his movies and life. On Thursday I talk to Octavia Spencer about her acting and life. I liked talking to both of them immensely. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

Pictures.

Multitasking, People!
 
Or not finishing a lot of things simultaneously. Since I’ve been home I’ve been immersed in cleaning, fixing and organizing. I don’t think there’s an end to it on any level. Inside and out. House and self. There doesn’t seem to be any beating the slow breakdown of the structure. Frame or body. 
 
I can add things or take things away. I can repair or replace. 
 
I’m finally getting my tooth. I’m not even sure I need it anymore. It’s a molar and I’m doing okay without it. I’ve come this far though. I’ll add it to my head. 
 
Trying to honor my New Year's direction of actively trying to enjoy and have a life as opposed to just burning through days engaged but not appreciating. 
 
I’ve been really appreciating film noir lately. I’m not sure why. I’ve watched the ones I’m supposed to have watched being a ‘fan’ of film. I’m just not sure I appreciated it. It all seemed dated and hard for me to let in. I’ve watched The Glass Key, The Gun for Hire and The Blue Dahlia in as many days. William Bendix seems to be some portal to a continuum of me. 
 
When I was a kid I had a book called Immortals of the Screen. It was a book of pictures of actors and their bios. They were all from the black and white era going back to the silents. I was obsessed with the pictures of the actors. It was published in 1965. I knew all the old actors by their faces. It did not lead to an obsession with the films they were in. It was just a window into another time that I found fascinating. I remember William Bendix, Marie Dressler, Lionel Barrymore, Ethel Barrymore, John Barrymore, Slim Somerville, Bogart, etc. I could look at the pictures for hours. I don’t know why it did not lead me to the movies. I think I just wanted to know who the actors were. Weird.
 
Well, I now know William Bendix was amazing. I finally want to watch all the old movies that these faces appeared in 45 years after having the book and almost a century after the films were made. 
 
I went online and I found a copy of the book. It’s being sent. I will reconnect with the images that had a profound impact on me for reasons I can’t really understand and I will watch the films. I don’t know what this full circle means. I don’t know if receiving the book will be some kind of closure or a harbinger of my end. 
 
I do know that Alan Ladd was great and Veronica Lake is transcendent. I’m looking forward to engaging with these films, with feeling. Odd.
 
Today I talk to the singular Katt Williams almost exclusively about standup. On Thursday I talk to my To Leslie costar Andrea Riseborough about acting and her life. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

Big Plans.

Here we go again, People.

I’m sorry. I mean Happy New Year! Seriously, let’s make a go of it. 
 
In retrospect, last year wasn’t that bad. That being said, I have a hard time really knowing what happened and when and how much time has gone by. I think the pandemic permanently damaged my sense of time. Maybe not in a bad way. I don’t feel it passing in the same way. The markers are different. I don’t notice days or weeks or years as much. I remember events floating behind me. I remember emotional reactions to moments and unfoldings in my head. I remember being afraid and overwhelmed with anxiety. I remember loss. I remember spending time with people I care about. 
 
I just don’t have a handle on time anymore. Time passing. Time on the horizon. I do know my time is running. I do know that I can make choices about how I want to spend that time. I do know that I don’t have to be dragged by time or have time taken away from me by people, places and things I don’t choose to engage with. 
 
That’s a good start for the new year. Realization. 
 
Kit and I spent New Year’s Eve at a new friend’s house. I don’t even think I was really invited. I misunderstood something he said about cooking for friends on NYE before Covid and I said that was great. Then, in my head that meant I was going over there for dinner. I asked if it was happening then re-read the texts and realized it wasn’t really an invite, just a statement. I told him I was sorry I made it awkward but he said to come eat. So, we did. We had a great time with him and his family and some other people and their kids. It was just a full night of being a human among humans. Talking, eating, listening. I really hardly ever do that. Hang out with people and their families and my girlfriend, just having a nice night. He cooked great food. I baked a cake. It was a full day.
 
Then Kit and I split so we could make it to her place for the changing of the year and have an intimate moment. We did. Then I ran from it and drove home in the rain and passed out on my couch in my clothes. I did that without drinking. Thank you.
 
So, upon reflection of the evening. A couple of the things I would like to change this year are:

I want to spend more time with other people I like in planned social events. 
I want to get comfortable with intimacy.

Big plans!
 
Today I talk to Ben Foster. I’m a huge fan. I think he’s a great actor. I wanted to get to know him. On Thursday I talk to Colin Hanks about all the stuff.
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

The Skies.

Holidays were okay, Folks!
 
So far. I guess we’re almost out of the tunnel. I hope yours were good! 
 
I’m in New Mexico which can be pretty bittersweet as time goes on. As many of you know my dad and his wife are here. He’s begun his dementia struggle. I never really know where he will be at when I come out here. Fortunately he still knows me and was in pretty good spirits when I saw him. Engaged. 
 
I got him laughing pretty good. That seems to be the best indicator for me whether or not he still has deep self-awareness because I’m pretty relentless. It’s always been the goal. Making my father laugh, mostly at himself and what a pain in the ass he can be. I would say it’s where I developed some of my comedy style. It was out of necessity, a defense. 
 
It was good to see him. I’ve grown to appreciate these visits and not take them for granted. I appreciate the fact that not only is time limited but cognition is as well and that could go before he does. It’s a heavy matter of fact that I can trivialize or make jokes about, but in honesty I have no idea how that will affect me. I make jokes to preemptively disarm devastating emotional realities and upheavals. My brain wants to get a handle on them so I can feel ready and I do that with framing them funny. 
 
I also realize that it’s not easy for the people in his life on a daily basis. Mostly his wife, Rosie. When I’m around, all his energy goes into showing up as fully as he can to show me he’s ‘fine.’ I’ve noticed this with older podcast guests I’ve talked to who have all their wits about them. It’s an exhausting endeavor to focus. The people that deal with him daily deal with a lot. The ups and downs of confusion, memory loss, inability to perform simple tasks, emotional volatility and the diminishing of personality. It’s a truly horrible process and I have a tremendous amount of gratitude and empathy for his wife who has chosen to ride this thing out with him. I offer my help in any way I can but man, she’s the fucking hero in this war story. 
 
I usually get fairly melancholy when I’m here just because I have had some realizations about coming home in the last couple of years. I was half planning to find a place out here and spend part of the year living here. That fantasy has faded for a few reasons. It’s not that you can never go home again, it’s just that whatever you are looking for isn’t there. It’s within you. It needs to stay there or it will become tragic. Albuquerque is a beat-up city. It’s very different than the one I grew up in, I think. What do I know? I was looking at it as a child growing up with a perspective that is long gone. If I want that back I have to go there in my mind, in my heart. I can’t search for it on the streets, parking lots, restaurants, rivers and mountains of my youth. They can trigger the senses but I can’t go back. I guess that’s what it means to not be able to go home again. 
 
To be honest, it wasn’t that great a time, growing up. I do love the skies here though. It’s the consistency of the environment and vibe that stays true and moves me still. 
 
I talked Kit out of going to Chicago because of the horrible weather and she came out to New Mexico to hang with me. That’s been great. We’re having a nice time. Showing someone where your young life happened is a great way to be nostalgic. 
 
There’s a lot of eating going on too. Great but not great. I’ll reel it in. I think. 
 
Today I talk to Courtney Love and I have to preface it by saying it’s not an easy talk. She’s a unique, intense, fired up person. My role in the talk seems to be solely to guide it as best I can and just hold on. Hang with it. There’s a story there. On Thursday I talk to Eric McFadden. He’s a musician who I knew when we were kids back in Albuquerque but we didn’t really stay in touch. Since then he’s had an amazing solo career and also toured with the likes of George Clinton and Eric Burdon. It’s a unique talk about growing up in New Mexico and living the dream.
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live! 
 
Love, 
Maron

Triad of Doofuses.

Happy Hanukkah, Everyone!
 
In all honesty I didn’t know it had even started until midday yesterday. I guess it actually hadn’t yet but it was close. The liability of being a Jew alone, dating a non-Jew, with family that had other things on their mind. I had to be reminded by someone texting me their lit candles in NYC. 
 
It’s okay. Another day. An Amazon package came with some buttons I ordered to fix my overcoat. I’ll look at them as the first day’s gift. 
 
I’m not hopeful in any way but it does seem exciting that the three narcissists who tend to drive the vapid news cycle seem to be flaming out at the same time. Trump, Ye and Musk are all spiraling and it’s a beautiful thing. The singularity has clearly happened and the way the machines are controlling us is by making us all think that we need to give a shit about these globally consuming egoists. What a bunch of bores who aren’t even courageous enough to take their mental illness seriously. To see comedians and anyone who talks publicly feel like they need to address these windbags is so pathetic. 
 
There are probably more interesting people down the street from you. There’s probably a guy around the corner on the phone to a vets office concerned about his dog’s dick and that’s an infinitely more interesting story than anything being churned out by the triad of doofuses. There’s probably a lady knitting a hat somewhere that would be a better news story. 
 
Two of them are hopped up on speed and delusional and the other is an unmedicated bipolar person and also delusional. Though I must say that Trump hocking NFT trading cards of him as a superhero is exactly who that guy is. How do you feel about ‘your’ president now, dummies?
 
On a serious, emotional note I would like to say a few words about someone who passed. Silver Saunders Friedman was the owner of the original Improvisation club in NYC on 44th street. The first Improv. She got the club in the divorce settlement from her husband Budd, who most people know. When I got to NYC and was just starting out as a comic in the late eighties Silver was one of the first people to believe in me and give me work. The club was pretty beat up at that point and a lot of the acts there were old timers and hangers on but it was THE club. It was a historic place and she was the final word. She was a bit volatile and intense but had good creative input and the clubs was always welcoming to us younger comics. Her daughter, Zoe, is also in the business and worked as a booker for the Letterman show for a spell. She gave me my first Letterman spot. The two Friedman women changed my life. I went to the memorial for a bit to pay my respects but I just wanted to write something because she was very important to my development as a comic. 
 
RIP, Silver. 
 
Today I talk to Rian Johnson about his films Brick, Looper, Knives Out and Glass Onion among others and other things. On Thursday I talk to Scott Cooper about his films Crazy Heart, Into the Furnace, Hostiles, Black Mass and The Pale Blue Eye among other things. Directors are great to talk to. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love, 
Maron

The Special.

Well, that’s all, Folks!
 
It’s done. I taped the new hour for HBO last Thursday. A year and half of touring about 90 minutes of material landed me at Town Hall in NYC for two shows to try to make an hour-long special. 
 
They both went well. They were both very different shows. I was different and the audiences were different. 
 
A day of shooting is a long day. The shows were at 7 and 9:30. I got there at 1:30. I had to check out my wardrobe options. I hired a stylist for this one. It was the right thing to do. Those of you who know me, or maybe I’m the only one who knows, I almost never make the right clothing decision for a TV appearance of any kind. Ever. From leather pants to a shirt that some guy I met at a bar made me to a shiny suit to a faded flannel shirt to a vest and on and on. I always feel shitty about it. So, I hired a stylist. 
 
The guy came over weeks ago, looked at all my clothes and got the hang of my thing. Then he came back a week or so before the show with a few things and we nailed it down. I’m not sure why I’m telling you this. It’s a common thing. Most people on television aren’t wearing their own clothes. I just used to think it was better to just wear my own shit but then I realized I’d worn the same suit or shirt on at least six tv appearances. So, I let the guy dress me. It was a burgundy suede western shirt from John Varvatos. I think it was cool. Wore some Ship John black jeans and my Love Jules Leather Chelsea’s. I’m just very conscious of my clothes on TV and almost never look good in them. Hopefully this looks better. 
 
Backstage there was a huge platter of smoked fish from Russ and Daughters. Sable and salmon. Every kind of herring. Whitefish and salmon salads. Bagels. Pickles. Babka and rugelach. I wanted to be salted for the shows. I guess I was trying to put a little water weight on for the fight. I was digesting the history of the Ashkenazi Jews for both shows. That was the subtext. Processing fish, sugar and salt. Maybe that should be the title of the special. 
 
I was amped but not nervous. I ran this stuff so many times it was part of me. The set looked great. I came on stage to the music I created with the guys who perform with me at Largo.
 
The first crowd was on fire. There were some parts of the show that I was too amped. I missed a couple of things I wanted to do. Some of the lighting screwed up. I had to do some redos after. The crowd was actually getting up to leave and I had to make them sit down. It was actually nice, fun. I told a story and did the pick-ups. 
 
I had Brendan backstage for both shows doing the off-stage announcements. I had no family in attendance. It was great. 
 
The second show I felt grounded and focused. The audience was good but real. I had to earn the laughs which is perfect. Watch me do the job for real when you see it. I was loose in a way I am when I’m just doing a regular show. I was able to find the freedom of mind to riff a bit and because of that there will be things in the special that I had never done before and won’t do again that actually brought things together in a new way. It was a great feeling. 
 
The second show will probably be the base and we will probably pull some stuff from the first as well. 
 
I felt like it went well but it was a bit of a letdown because on some level it was just another couple of shows in a higher-pressure situation. I was wearing a strange shirt and I had to do what I had planned.  Now the shaping of the show begins and me getting back in shape starts also. I’d like to think I’ll take a break but I’m already putting in for spots at The Comedy Store for this week. I have some new stuff I want to try out. 
 
Thanks for bearing with me through this process and if you made it to any of the live shows, thanks for coming out. 
 
Today I talk to Irish comic, Tommy Tiernan. I’ve seen him around forever but we never talked. He’s a true legend. On Thursday I talk to James Austin Johnson about the time we hung out that I didn’t remember and Jesus and SNL. Great talks. 
 
Enjoy!
 
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
 
Love,
Maron

Space for Space.

Home stretch, Folks.

Asheville and Nashville. I’m beat.

I flew into Charlotte on Thursday night and picked up a Chrysler 300. It felt like a sleek tank. I’d never driven one before. I drove into the Blue Ridge night, two hours to Asheville. I had no sense of where I was or what the town looked like or how it was situated.

I checked into the hotel and started crunching my act on paper. Like a giant story problem.

Excise redundancy. Find the big laughs. Remember.

Didn’t sleep much. The three hour time difference is just enough to fuck you West to East.

Woke up in a dream state, looked out the window of my room and saw the beautiful silhouette of those mountains. Pretty country. I’ve seen a lot of beautiful parts of America on this string of dates. Last one was Bend to Portland and now a drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

I went to the artist’s district for a few minutes. I didn’t have the bandwidth to look at a lot of ok art. I had the realization that no matter what art you are involved with there is a difference between proficiency and a masterpiece. Plenty of great painters, photographers, potters, musicians, dancers, comedians, etc. Like, many. Some people can even make a living at it if they hustle and understand their limitations and price point. Truly inspired expressive genius that transcends practical expectations is rare. It’s not a hobbyists domain or a mediocre pro. It’s not something you can make happen by taking certain steps. It’s a fucking gift that manifests in those that have it when they’ve unlocked it with the work of craft. Either you got it, or you don’t. Them’s the breaks.

Hustle your wares.

I did hyper engaged shows at the Orange Peel. It’s a great rock club that has rock club expectations built into it. It’s the nature of the venue. I don’t do many rock clubs and when I do I need them to be seated. Even then it feels like it requires vigilance to stay on top of the crowd. There’s not a lot of space for space. I did two shows and I was wiped. I held the line on the time.

I bought a vintage Excelled burgundy leather car coat. I never do that. Had to. I think it’s a little big.

Didn’t sleep the second night in Asheville, either. Bad pillows. No matter how nice the hotel is, if they have shitty pillows they’ve failed. I know it’s a matter of personal preference but shitty is shitty.

Got up at six the next day. Drove the monster back to Charlotte and flew to Nashville.

Got to the hotel. There was no room yet so I sat outside, cigared and crunched the set some more. I became obsessed with finding a plastic shopping bag for my coat which was in a ripping paper supermarket bag. I decided to go down to Broadway because I saw people with big boot bags from a boot place. That was my afternoon. Went into the boot place. There were a hundred people trying on boots and spreading virus. I just couldn’t find the courage to try to charm the woman at the register out of a shopping bag. Too much chaos. Then I found a Walgreens. Love Walgreens. They had a big bag with a big W on it.

The show in Nashville was wild. I did the hour. Then I did another one with Q and A and a life lesson conversation with a sixteen year old sitting up front with his dad.

I waited until the last three shows before I tape the special to really cut my 90 mins of material down to about an hour. I think I do it this way all the time, actually.

We will see how it goes.

Today I talk to Clea DuVall about her acting roles, directing and coming out. On Thursday I talk to Elvis Mitchell about his doc on the history of Black cinema which, embarrassingly, I knew nearly nothing about. That’s why there are docs! It’s called Is That Black Enough for You? Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Building the Hour.

Stuffed, People.

I really did it. I am sure I am not alone. After Thanksgiving dinner I swore off food. The next day I realized that was totally unreasonable and, not unlike the rest of you, I ate more of the same stuff again.

That’s the festive spirit. I don’t know how much gratitude I experienced but I was able to eat my feelings to a greater degree than usual and feel more food shame than usual which is what fuels my existence.

I am grateful though. For a lot of things. My life is unbelievable to me. I can’t seem to reconcile who I was with who I am. As every year goes by I become more and more estranged from whoever younger me was. I really don’t know how that guy got through it or ended up okay. The more I think about it I’m not sure I know him at all. From all accounts, not the best guy in the world. I guess I kind of know that and write it off as being young and angry and fucked up but I still think I was okay, not that horrible. Arguable depending on who you talk to.

I believe I’m worn out on a deep level. I’ve been working constantly as a standup. It’s all converging on my HBO special taping on Dec. 8 in NYC. This has been the goal for months. I still haven’t gotten the hour laid out exactly how I want it. I still have way too much material and I’m having a hard time cutting. I only have three more shows to make an hour and forty minutes into an hour. I guess that’s just the way I work. Right up to the edge.

I like to think I’m not nervous at all about the special. I mean, I have the goods. I’ve done many specials before. I also know that when I have to do a major thing I tend to make my life a bit chaotic in reality or in my mind. I’m sucking down cigars after being off nicotine for years so I’m all fucked up on that. I’m eating stupid. I’m freaking out about everything---else. Everything but the special. I like to transfer my panic onto unnecessary things to distract from just owning my reasonable fear of an upcoming event that requires a lot of me. That’s my method. Create a storm of self-criticism and self-flagellation heading into something that should be exciting and fun. I guess that’s getting back to basics for me. That’s where I’m comfortable or, if not comfortable, familiar. It’s what I grew up with. It’s my core. It’s not a great system. I don’t recommend it.

The primary creative issue I’m having around the set is balancing current cultural criticism with dark personal comedy. It’s like there are two distinct parts of the show. I have to weave them together and excise the redundancy. I have to sequence the bits so they flow and some reference each other. That’s this part of the job, building the hour. Tightening. Killing some babies.

I need to make sure I push back on and answer to some of the comedy out there that is culturally malignant along with just cultural malignancy on a social and political level in general. Whether I’m relevant enough to make any impact doesn’t matter. It’s just what I do. But I also have a personal story to tell. It feels like I’m mashing two hours into one. It’s fine.

We’ll see what happens.

Today I have a short chat with my pal Sam Lipsyte about his funny new book, Nobody Left to Come Looking for You. It’s a great read. Get it. I also have a long talk with Rob Delaney about his life and new book, A Heart That Works. It gets heavy. We talk about the death of his infant son. Which is also the focus of his book. On Thursday I talk to James Gray about movies and Jewish stuff and art. Great talks all!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Brisket, Stuffing.

Oregon, People!

Beautiful state. No doubt.

It seems I am willing to go to almost any length to avoid flying in and out of LAX. I flew into Portland on Thursday, rented a car and drove to Eugene on Friday. Because I could fly to Portland from Burbank direct and I figured it would be nice to hang out in Portland for a night. It was.

It turned out that Michael Ian Black was in town there at Helium Comedy Club. I can’t even remember the last time I saw that guy. I’ve known him since the early '90s, probably. We’ve always had a slightly dickish relationship. We used to snark it out on Twitter in the early days of that platform and for some reason we started at each other again here at the end of that platform. That’s how I found out he was in Portland. So, I DMed him that I was there and he told me to come down and get on stage with him. I didn’t really want to get on stage but I thought why not go watch the guy. It was probably ’95 when I last saw him do standup and I was mad about it. It was the days of the Luna Lounge and I really had a problem with sketch people doing standup because I was some kind of bitter purist. I resented it. I still do a little.

I went down to the club and went into the dressing room. It was good to see him. It’s odd when you’ve known someone that long and you both look at each other and see all the years that have gone by. Just a couple of middle-aged dudes who made it through and are still at it.

His act was good. It was tight, personal and funny. He’s an odd, sad guy. He brought me on stage for 15 minutes or so. We just talked, got some laughs, I got off and he finished his act. It was fun. Shit like that doesn’t happen too often to me anymore. Just comics having fun on stage dicking around. Riffing it out a bit.

Before I drove down to Eugene the next day I stopped by Ship John to say hi to the gang over there. I caught up with Mike. I got some pants, shirts and actually needed gloves which I got as well. The ones I brought were all fucked up. It was cold. Not NY cold but cold enough. I brought the wrong jacket.

The drive to Eugene was bright and not that great. I was a little disappointed. The show at the Hult was fine. Tory Ward from Portland opened for me. She’s funny, dirty.

The drive from Eugene to Bend was spectacular. Made me remember why I love the Pacific Northwest. The big trees, the hard-edged mountains, the rivers. Stunning. Made me remember Alaska from my childhood. Made me think of Keasey.

The show in Bend was fraught but fine. Ski towns give me the willies somehow. Too small for me.

The drive back up to Portland was awesome. I got there a little early so I had breakfast with Mike and flew back into Burbank with a stopover. That’s how much I hate LAX.

I’m staying in LA for Thanksgiving. I’m going to cook a brisket, stuffing and a Chess Pie and go to my friend Dan’s house with Kit.

Have a good holiday, people.

Today I talk to Robert Siegel about his new series Welcome to Chippendales, The Wrestler, being the editor of The Onion and other stuff. On Thursday I’ll post my live episode I recorded in London with David Baddiel. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Push Back.

It’s okay, today, People.

It seems we’ve been given a reprieve on one front. The midterms were a lot closer than expected and we are neck and neck with the fascists. Yay? It seems that enough regular people are fed up with the evil ridiculousness. They got nervous that the President might be right and democracy is at stake. They were correct in taking that to heart.

Also, here in Cali it rained for a few days. So, everything is coming up roses this week. Literally. We’ve held the monsters at bay and climate change doesn’t matter for a few days because it rained in southern California. It never does. You know the song.

In a few weeks it will all be brittle and tinder-like again. The Right will regroup around some new talking points and the menace will pick up again.

Culturally, all is garbage. I do enjoy the demise of Twitter and the hilarious downfall of one of the primary narcissists who drive current culture. There’s a few, but three of them took big hits in the last few weeks. Musk, Trump and Ye are all spiraling. Like, bad. It’s beautiful.

The reposting of the Gallagher episode after his death has revealed, again, how hollow and wrong-minded the fight against ‘woke’ culture really is. People spewing out their defense of Gallagher on what has become the death throes of Elon Musk’s cultural relevance. A screaming, dying social media platform, to defend who they seemingly see as a warrior of free speech because of my talk with him. Fucking Gallagher. A clown. Is one of their heroes apparently. What a bunch of uninspired hack babies.

The ‘anti-woke’ angle is pure hack. A word they like to throw around a lot but I am sure most don’t even know what it means or where it comes from. Or maybe they do because the pot calling the kettle hack is one of their favorite tactics. I’m not, you are. Over and over again like a bunch of empty brained, easily manipulated and even more easily triggered hacks.

Obviously, the fight is not over and it may ultimately be unwinnable but what a joy it was to see all the dumb dumb minority rule election denying opportunists and radicalized Christians and believers of pure fairy tale bullshit take one to the collective balls. That sack belongs to King Baby Donald and everyone on his tiny autocratic grifting dick.

Kanye has been spiraling for a while but the anti-Semitic version made me nervous. When Kyrie Irving got on board I became more nervous as a Jew. I’ve always known about the strain of anti-Semitic imagery and conspiracy within the black community. It’s in some churches, for fuck's sake. I’m just happy there was push back. I got scared that there would be an alignment between the worst of white culture and all of black culture against the Jews.

Dave Chappelle dealt with all that from all the sides that he could in his monologue on SNL. He did it so deftly that initially I thought he was giving Kanye and Kyrie a pass and saying the only transgression was saying out loud publicly something all blacks know to be true and know not to say publicly. He was kind of saying that but he was able to balance and disarm the conspiracy theory and reconcile the perspective of the black community with the culture at large and ultimately deal with the cost of the transgression which is a reality when we say shit sometimes, as Dave knows. It was interesting because the whole riff was about the reality of lines you can’t cross. He did cross them, again, but it was funny. Because of his skill and the way he contextualized it. I’m still thinking about it. I may think it's anti-Semitic tomorrow. I’ll see.

Tough week for narcissist fucks. Good week for democracy or whatever we have here.

Today I talk to Wes Bentley about moving from stardom through addiction to being a sober working actor. Good guy. On Thursday I talk to one of my literary heroes, Bruce Wagner, about his work. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Almost Grateful.

Out of Texas, Y’all.

I did a major driving run with Laura Beitz from Oklahoma City down to Houston, stopping in Dallas and San Antonio.

All the shows were good. I hadn’t been to OKC in a long time. I got no sense of what it would be like to live there but the landscape seems a bit barren and the state’s politics are awful. The city is not huge and you get the feeling that you don’t drive too far to get the creeps. The people that came out to the show were great. It does seem that the liberalish hipster contingent in murderously red states are pretty out there with the self-expression. I like it.

Dallas was fun. It’s a big old city. We stayed at a nice place, had some BBQ, met the guy who owns Warstic with Jack White by coincidence at Terry Black's and did an awesome show at the Majestic Theatre. Great venue.

San Antonio was surprisingly weird and interesting. We stayed at a funky haunted hotel called the Hotel Havana. The space we performed in was intimate. It seated about 220. We did two shows. The crowds were lit. The city definitely has a vibe. It feels like some shit went down there and the frequency remains. A mild desolation and old Texan architecture help the feeling. It might just be where we stayed. We ate some pretty good Mexican food.

Houston was the highlight for me because they have so much amazing art all over the city it seems. At some point some rich people did some nice stuff for that place. Amazing parks and museums.

I was able to go to the Rothko Chapel for the first time in probably 35 years. They’ve renovated the place a bit. It was a profound experience to sit in that space with those canvases. It calls itself a non-denominational all faith kind of spiritual space. It’s definitely peaceful, but I don’t hear anyone talk about how fucking ethereally bleak those paintings are. I’m a huge Rothko fan but between the canvases at the Chapel and the ones that were contracted by the Seagrams for the Four Seasons in NYC that you can see at The Tate, there aren’t any darker floating zones in all his work. I think the light he saw in these canvases was as metaphysically honest as a depressed genius could be. A true vision of the beyond in the present. I love them. I love the fact that they are anything but uplifting and they define and overwhelm a ‘spiritual’ space.

There was a huge Philip Guston exhibit at The Museum of Fine Arts. I was familiar with his more cartoonish work and always liked it but didn’t quite get it. My ex the painter was a huge fan and she was very critical so I knew I had to reckon with them at some point. That point came in Houston. Seeing his work evolve over the years and having it put into context of the art world and the culture and Guston’s own struggles gave me a deeper understanding of the art he was creating. It was a totally educational experience that I could have alongside taking in the mind-blowing work chronologically. I get it now.

I am slowly accepting my place in the world in relation to the present time and the work I am doing. Almost grateful. Very close.

Today I talk to Elizabeth Banks again! I feel very loose with her and friendly. It was fun to catch up and talk about her new movies and stuff. On Thursday I talk to Quinta Brunson about her learning curve and the focus that got her to where she is. Impressive person. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Saying Hello.

Mystical, People.

I try to wrangle my mind as much as possible. It does wander. Predictable places and patterns. Usually not otherworldly. It will make some random connections and try to make sense of things that are beyond comprehension. I don’t want to drift. I’ve been delusional before.

Something happened in Ireland.

As many of you know that last time I was there was with Lynn. We both had some unexplained draw to the country. It held a magical space for both of us. Separately. It was something we found out we shared when we got to know each other. We both wanted to be there.

The trip we took was after we went to the Gijón Film Festival in Spain. We spent almost two weeks in the country at two different houses. It was beautiful. It was the first and only time we traveled together.

Going back I knew that the memories would be difficult. I knew that her absence would be felt. I stayed at the same hotel we stayed at in Dublin. I have pictures of her there. I could see where I took the picture. I could see her absence. I took a picture of a bench where she sat, empty.

I have played at Vicar Street many times. I like the venue. I liked the crowd. They were great last Wednesday. As I made my way through the act it was all going over great. Then I came to the part where I switch tones, go a bit deeper and talk about grief and Lynn’s passing. Toward the end of the main piece from that section which describes the day she died the stage lights started fluctuating, going on and off. It was jarring. The audience felt it. It happened just as I was talking about her death and kept happening for five minutes.

I said, ‘Hey, Lynn. Hi, baby.’ My eyes started tearing up. The audience was emotional.

When I got off stage the lighting person said that had never happened before.

When I got back to my hotel room I walked in, turned on the lamp on the desk and the bulb fizzled out.

I said, ‘Ok, Lynn. I miss you too. I’m glad you’re here. You wanted to be here.’

I had to invest these moments with the mystical meaning they commanded. I had to look at them as good magic. I had to believe she was just saying hello and that she was there. That is where she resides now. Ireland. That is where she wanted to be, that is where she is.

Why not?

Today I talk to Armando Iannucci about his career and humor and the world. Thursday, I talk to a pre-punched Chris Redd about his life and comedy. Great talks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron