Growth.

Weddings, People.

I went to a wedding this past weekend. It seems unusual at this age to be invited to weddings. It’s usually a funeral and phone calls about divorces. 

It was a beautiful ceremony. My buddy Tom Scharpling and his fiancee Julia Vickerman are now together forever. I’m very happy for them. 

The nice thing about getting married when you’re older or if you’ve had a wedding before is that you can really do it exactly how you want to do it with just the people you want to be there. It seems that first marriages and marriages when you’re younger feel like you have a big family responsibility and a lot of things that to worry about that may not really be about you. I don’t think Julia has been married before. Tom has and I don’t know what his first one was like but this one was stunning. They are both creative people and it was just a perfect celebration of who they are and what they will be. We had a lovely time. 

I have had two weddings. One big Jewish one that got away from us in the sense that there was tremendous family responsibility and a need to include so many people that didn’t have anything to do with our lives. My second wedding was done in kind of a panic in my backyard before I went away for while and our fathers weren’t allowed to come. Both marriages failed for different reasons.

I am pretty committed to not being married again. I just don’t see the point anymore. When I go  to weddings the happiness I feel for the couple and emotions I experience are countered by the feeling that I really blew it somehow. For reasons of emotional immaturity and seeming inability to have healthy relationships. Then, tragedy and loss later in life pummeled me. I am cynical and incapacitated about love and marriage and I don’t know if I will turn that around. I’m glad I didn’t have to make a toast. I think bringing that stuff up would probably be a bad opening for it. 

Kit and I had a good time. Dressed up, danced, talked to people. It was fun. It had been a pretty trying couple of days so we needed it. 

On Friday Kit’s car was stolen. That’s a huge bummer. She had to file a police report and tell the insurance company. I had to not make it about me and escalate the crisis by somehow blaming her or getting aggravated that we’d have to get a new car or any number of ways I could have just made it worse. I didn’t do that. I’m very proud of myself. Because it’s my impulse to make thing worse somehow. Growth. 

Then, while we were getting ready to go to the wedding, after having accepted the situation and had a plan to deal with the car theft, the cops called and told her they found the car. It was literally a block away from where she had parked it. At that point she had to go back to her place and deal with the cops and I couldn’t go because I needed to be at the wedding. She would probably miss the ceremony and have to Uber there for the party. Again, I didn’t really know what to do but I knew I had to be at the wedding and she could deal with the car but it was stressful and I could’ve made it worse but I didn’t. Again. I’m amazing, just for being a normal person who can handle things. Growth. It doesn’t come easy. 

Suffice to say, I am still not emotionally healthy but I can make different choices for myself in light of that as to not cause chaos and pain in others. 

Maybe there is hope for me. I’ll get it right on my death bed. 

We still don’t know what happened to the car but apparently old Hyundais are targeted for joy rides because they are easy to start without a key. Nothing was missing or damaged. Kids. 

Today I talk to Sebastian Stan about the two very different movies he’s starring in that are out this week. Thursday I talk to Langston Kerman about comedy and teaching and poetry. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Principles.

Happy Birthday!

To me. 

I turned 61 last Friday. I’m not thrilled. 

I’m glad to be alive, mostly. I’m pretty healthy. I have a lot going on in my life it seems. So, I ask myself, why am I not thrilled? 

Because I can't settle my mind about certain things that I should’ve let go of long ago. Why? I have a feeling it's just part of my engine and I’m not sure how the engine will run if I take out those parts. Or if I even can at this point. 

Resentment, self-judgement, fear, insecurity. They are actually a menu of the three prime movers of almost any ism. I mean, I am highly aware of all of them. They don’t run my life. Most of them don’t have too much real juice in my mind but they are still reflexes I have to deal with almost daily and in many ways. They just gnaw at me as opposed to running my life, I think. 

It’s odd, but when you have issues that gnaw at you, but don’t consume you because you are aware of them every time they come up, you have to engage with them and disarm them. That is the daily battle. When you are victorious it feels pretty amazing. I guess I do envy people that don’t really have to fight that fight most of the time but I think by fighting it out I get some of my best thinking and inspiration done. Because they are fundamental parts of my thinking. And the roots of my empathy to some degree. 

Every day is full of exciting revelations when you take almost everything personally, project a lot and imagine the worst outcome of most situations. 

The truth is, most of them are kind of tired and the beautiful thing about getting older is you really start running out of fucks to give just from experience and wisdom. The wisdom that comes from giving way too many fucks and realizing most of them are a total waste of fucks and fucking time is priceless. 

Hard earned fucking lessons. 

It does seem that I am missing out on some of the good part of the whole being alive experience, but some room is created from all the space that was being taken up by all the fucks I was giving and I'm getting some real peace. Zero fucks equals peace of mind. As long as the fucks you are giving up are non-essential fucks. It’s important to keep essential fucks in place. Principles. 

Some of those principles can be rooted in fear and resentment but why judge that part if the principles are solid. Most of the principles come out of some kind of empathy for the truly unique people of the world. 

When your brain is spinning all the time just trying to find a place to land in the chaos of your life and the world, and that's a problem to be solved all the time, you're at least 90 percent more interesting than well-grounded, confident people. 

That’s what I think today. I’ll question it as soon as I finish writing this. 

Today I talk to the very funny Kaitlin Olson. On Thursday I talk to the very professional Connie Chung. Good talks. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Trying to Control Imaginary Problems.

Through it, People.

A week of Covid. 

It wasn’t great but, in honesty, it wasn’t awful. It was really more like a bad cold than anything else. Covid does have its own style though. It feels a little different sitting in your sinuses. It’s a little deeper up in there and there’s an itch to it that is unlike other sinus situations. Covid has Covid style. 

It was the second time I’ve had it. The first was a couple years ago. I’m not even sure how long ago it was but it was a rougher experience. It was very depleting. I was wiped for a week. That was not really the case this time. The first couple of days I felt sick but that was the worst of it. 

I did have to cancel a couple of shows but I was most worried about not being one hundred percent for Friday and Saturday in Tucson and Phoenix. I was fine. Other than having not done a long set in months, once I got up there it all came back. Tucson was a longer looser show because I was riffing a lot to get back in the zone. Great show. Phoenix was tighter, different but also a great show. 

The Orpheum Theatre in Phoenix was amazing. I had never been there. It’s really one of the great old theaters. Just beautiful, being in those performance spaces that were built when people just built the shit out things. Just big, beautiful and ornate. Great space. 

My birthday is this week. The 27th. I turn 61. I’m really trying not to let age affect me mentally but it is difficult. The darkness is coming. I actually need to embrace it because it's essential to the character I have to play in this movie coming up. It’s the job. 

So much of the way I think and what I think about is kind of a timeless loop of panic and insecure rumination I have been spinning since I was in my twenties. Those neural pathways don’t know age but the more controllable areas of my brain are entirely self-aware and really trying to get the loops to tighten up or come undone entirely. They keep me in a chronic present of manufactured problems and obsessive thought that serves no purpose. Or does it. I think it might be how I ground myself. It is fleeting and exhausting. Fortunately I can focus my obsessive super powers on almost anything. No shortage of options for stabilizing through trying to control imaginary problems of mundane tasks. This is the idea I’m going to build on for my spiritual text. 

I’m tired of the anxious vigilance of trying to control dumb events and things. I was supposed to fly out of Phoenix at 10:15 am on Southwest. I got a text from them at 8 am that the flight was going to be delayed four hours for who the fuck knows. I jumped into action and got myself on the 12:55 as a backup. Literally bought another ticket. Didn’t change flights. So, I then had two boarding passes for two different flights. Then, at nine, a text came through that the 10:15 was back on. I had already settled into getting the 12:55 but I couldn’t stay settled. I snapped into action. Panic ready. I decided to Tom Cruise Mission: Impossible it. Threw my clothes, books and water bottle into my bag. Got the car at the valet. I had to get to the airport, return the car, take the train to the terminal, get through security for a 9:45 boarding. Exciting. 

Somehow I made it to security at 9:40 and then got randomly selected for a hand test for bad stuff AND my bag got pulled for further checking. I was losing my mind. Paced around. Did the ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ thing aloud. It’s now 9:42 and the bag checking guy goes on break. I’m so pissed because I had made it. This is fucking my mission up. 

The dumb thing was I wasn’t going to miss the flight but I wanted to have my place in line. I was A2. That’s a top spot on Southwest. So, I’m fuming. The new TSA guy goes into my bag and pulls out my water bottle which was FULL! Are you fucking kidding me? It was my fault. Amateur move. Cruise wouldn’t have fucked that up because it would’ve meant life or death. I just might not make my spot on the line. 

I was the fuming asshole who had fucked himself. Not my favorite role.

I ran and made my boarding spot. So dumb. Winning. 

Today I have a talk with Elizabeth Olsen which is amazing. I talk to Kathleen Hanna from Bikini Kill on Thursday. Also amazing. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

The Golf Bug.

I’m done, People!

And sick. 

We wrapped last Friday night. We shot ten episodes. The first one feels like it happened years ago. It’s a strange feeling. A shoot is a very intense, very real community. You’re with the same people for months. Everyone has specific jobs and some of those jobs are brushing your face and hair many times a day. Among many others, obviously. 

It was sort of crazy that for the entire shoot there were no real weather issues. Minor ones, maybe. Then, the last night, Friday the 13th, It poured and we had to change up the last three scenes. No issues until the last three scenes. Crazy. 

I have to say the whole experience was great. All the people that worked on the show were really nice, professional. Like, no problems. They even put up with me. I can get a bit grumpy but I think on the spectrum of annoying behavior of actors in general, I’m in the ok zone. Most of my grumpiness is self-generated and has nowhere to go but back in so I tend to share it. If it's too intense, I make up for it somehow. Usually by not being grumpy. It’s a delicate balance. 

I think the show is going to be good. It’s touching and emotional and funny and the relationships are human and there's golf. Lots of golf.

I will report that I did not get the golf bug. TaylorMade sent me a set of clubs so I’m not saying I won't, but I didn’t after being around it for months. It’s intimidating. I can tell from the nature of it, just as an addict, that if you have one good game or even one great shot, you may chase that feeling for the rest of your life. On the surface and under it, that seems frustrating to me. I had one or two good shots off camera that really connected. I get the buzz. It might have been enough though. We’ll see. 

It was great working with Owen Wilson. We got along very well. Sweet guy. Funny. Real professional. All the cast was great. Peter Dager, Marianna Treviño and Lilli Kay were the core bunch. Timothy Olyphant and Judy Greer came on later. Great bunch of actors. I learned a lot. 

I was antsy to get home though. I needed to get back to my life. I was ready. I was going to jump right back into standup and talking to people and being at my house. It was urgent. After we wrapped, I was all packed and ready to go. That last night in Vancouver I crashed and at some point during the night I felt congested. It felt like I was coming down with something. Which isn’t unusual after a shoot. Your body holds it off for weeks and then just lets go. 

I flew home not feeling great but I was happy to get home. I was tired of sitting around by myself waiting to shoot or wandering around Vancouver alone. I was feeling isolated and a bit crazy. Saturday I felt ill. I woke up stuffed up. I figured I should get a Covid test because I had standup and talks to do. 

Fucking positive. 

So, now I get to sit around and be isolated at home. Which I guess is better. I had to cancel some interviews and the two warm up shows in LA at Dynasty and Elysian. It kills me to cancel shit. I hate it. I think it’s the right thing to do though. I don’t know what other people are doing or if people even test anymore but I guess all that trauma of the pandemic made me understand that it’s my responsibility. 

I don’t feel too sick but I am bummed. I’m trying to look at it as forced relaxation. I’ll read, work on my lines for my movie, do some cleaning, hang out with my dumb cats.

I’m going to fucking lose it.

I think I may need to finally get a food delivery app. I don’t know how I’ve avoided it this long.

Today I talk to Eric Roberts. Intense guy. On Thursday I talk to Jason Ritter. Deep guy. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

End Times Vacation.

Home stretch, Folks!

This is my last week up here in Vancouver. 

My last week in this golf-related dream I’ve been involved in. It’s weird but I don’t think I’ll know it really happened until I see the show. I think that’s the nature of creating a reality that is, by its nature, not real. Like a dream. 

I’ve learned some things about myself here. Some things I have known for a long time, others are new. 

I’m almost 99 percent sure now that I will not read the books I bring along with me when I go out of town, ever. I’ve been doing it for years. I literally brought a whole library of relatively deep books that I have had for years to Vancouver with me. I thought to myself, or should I say, lied to myself, that this trip would be a perfect time to get to them. I guess not unlike having a lot of books at home, it’s nice to take some on a trip to know that they are there, with all their wisdom and information, if I need them. I am comforted by having them around. Like friends you don’t really feel pressure to engage with but it’s nice that they are hanging out. 

I also learned that, not unlike the books, whatever big plans I have about what I’m going to do in the city I am visiting might not happen. I don’t know where all the time went. I was going to go on many hikes and bike rides but I ended up going on one. I mean, I got out, saw the city, took some drives, but I had more ambitious plans. So, now I’m left to just beat myself up for not doing enough.

I did take care of myself though. I did the work I came to do. I ate right. Exercised. I was also going home a lot to do my other work. 

It does seem that I don’t really have an out-in-the-world adventurous spirit though. I can definitely travel in my mind and part of that traveling is talking myself out of going out in the world. I do, but relative to things I have to do usually. I just get anxiety and I just need to find a routine wherever I go and lock into it to the detriment of broadening my experience. 

Now that I’m getting older, part of me thinks I need to go explore the world before it burns up. An end times vacation to see all the exotic places and how they are buckling under climate change. 

I don’t know. It’s just when I talked to today's guest, Lupita Nyong’o, who has lived in Kenya, Mexico, and the US, and speaks four languages, I had the deep realization that my world is small and the primary reason for that is my own fear. 

I just feel a profound kind of loneliness when I travel places. It’s like I’m untethered and have no home or personality and I’m almost invisible. All things that could be exciting if I just embraced them as opposed to freak out. Same reason I was never great with psychedelic drugs. Just lost my sense of self and panicked. I mean, you don’t want the high point of an adventure just being the fact that you didn’t lose your shit. I guess there are people that seek that kind of adventure but I experience enough of that on a day-to-day level just being me. I don’t need to go far for it. Or leave my house actually.

Looking forward to being home for a bit. 

On Thursday I talk to Ali Macofsky. She’s a very funny comic and has opened for me in many places. I had to be careful not to talk too much or remember what we talked about during the hours we spent in the car just so this episode could be great. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

My Sanity Was at Stake.

Crisis management, People.

My brain is busy pretty much all the time. I’ve talked about this a lot. Left to its own devices, aside from the primal ones that keep me alive, my brain generates worry and panic. Actually, maybe it's a bit of those survival parts bleeding over. 

I like to think that I just like to think. I’m okay alone, driving, walking, with no music, because I like to think. Truth is, I don’t execute much control over most of my thoughts. Which is a mistake. I could be much more creative if I did.

I think about things going wrong, worst case scenarios, being attacked, revenge fantasies, political assassinations, fire, animal death, human death, cancer and other diseases, fat, my hair, my face, my clothes, my brittle nails, food and getting it, sex, remembering things just to see if I can, where things are, where they aren’t and what happens if they’re not there, rising water, rising temperatures, why is that guy so popular, etc.

Some of those are fine, healthy even. Many of them just generate panic and self loathing and what am I going to do if THAT happens? Some of it turns out to be prepping. Accepting the worst. Though usually the worst isn’t even on the list. There are surprises. Most of the list is made of things that aren’t happening and won't. 

The prep helps. Because when it’s time to panic for real, I’m ready. Give me a crisis. Minor ones are preferred. I’m ready. Instinctively. 

I had a revelation on Saturday. I was booked on an Air Canada flight back home at 8:45am. The last time I flew with them they cancelled all their flights, day of, because of tech issues. What? All flights? I found out after there is a labor shortage and perhaps a strike. I am wary of AC now. I knew that heading into Saturday morning. I suggested to my manager, 'maybe we don’t fly with them anymore.' She said other airlines cancel too. I said okay. 

I woke up at 6 for a 6:45 pick up. There was a text and an email from Air Canada saying my flight was cancelled. I was rebooked for 6:30pm. Unacceptable. My time at home is precious and my sanity was at stake. A full day in my head was out of the question. I scrambled. No panic. Got on the Delta app. Found an 8am flight through WestJet. Tried to book it. There were no assigned seats but there was an upgrade available. Took it. Was transferred to the WestJet site. Jumped through some international flight hoops. Landed the last seat. Then I called the driver, who happens to like showing up early and he came ten minutes later. Made the flight. Miracle. 

In the middle of that minor crisis, just taking the steps, I felt like that is what I should be doing with my life. Whatever that means. 

Then I solved a minor mystery about a home invasion through texting on the plane. 

Amazing, a productive morning of crises. 

Maybe I should hire myself out to panic about other people’s problems and be available to troubleshoot if the shit goes down. Is there a name for that job? I think it might be Therapist. 

Later that night I dropped my phone at the movies and didn’t realize it until a stranger came running after me with it like five minutes after I left. Another miracle. If he hadn’t it would’ve ruined my whole weekend. 

Averting a crisis with my own will and the good will of a stranger made it an amazing day. Like one of the best days. 

I should be able to have them without all the drama. 

Today I talk to comic Drew Lynch who appeared on my show Maron. On Thursday I talk to Chris Robinson of the Black Crowes. Great talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Keep It Furious.

The days keep rolling in and past, People.

That’s good and bad. I think the perception of time passing changes as you get older which makes sense. I’ve never thought time was flying by, but it seems to be getting away from me, at the very least.

I will stop reflecting on reflecting. As soon as I can wrap my brain around it. I feel I need to do that sooner than later.

I mean, both my parents are still hanging on. That’s about all they are doing. They’re not living much of a life. They’re in their eighties and I guess that's the best you can hope for. Hanging on. Eating.

Obviously my dad is losing his mind but he’s still hanging on. The primary driver when he’s not being passive or vacant is anger. He can tap into that rage over nothing. It focuses him. I would say in that way he’s very current and in tune with the culture we live in. It’s very honest.

So, I have that to look forward to.

Keep it fresh. Keep it furious.

I’ve been home for a bit and I actually did some socializing outside of just going to The Comedy Store. I went to a couple of parties. I really need to get out more. I like it. 

I don’t really feel like a loner but I do sometimes just not do things. I think, ‘what’s the point?’ My dad is kind of like that and he is fading away and friendless. 

I went to Brendon Smalls house for a little party. I hadn’t seen him in years. I used to go to his get-togethers yearly. I saw a few old friends, he showed me his weird guitars, I ate tacos, got some laughs, talked gear with Peter from Gibson. It was great. It is what life is. 

Then I went to Dana Gould’s 60th birthday party. Big laughs. Saw some of the geniuses I’ve known for decades and I haven’t seen some of them in almost one of those decades. It's a real gift to be in this racket and hang out for even an hour with truly brilliant, funny people. I know a lot of you have funny friends but I’m not sure I can quite explain what it's like to be around Maria Bamford, Laura Kightlinger, Patton Oswalt, Blaine Capatch, Matt Weinhold, Dana Gould and others all in one room or on one patio. The best. 

I LIKE TO LAUGH. 

The combination of shared history and the fact that we’re all still alive and still funny and relaxed enough with each other that we can fucking enjoy it is what life is. Mine, anyway. 

When they brought the cake out and everyone gathered around waiting for Dana to do a little speech or something, everyone quieted down and Dana said, ‘There is never a good time to say this but… I’m dying.’

Perfect. 

Today on the show I talk to my old friend Greg Fitzsimmons about his life and his new special. On Thursday I catch up with another old friend Brendon Walsh about the same stuff, not  special. Great talks. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Wear the Helmet.

Hello, Gang!

I’m finally home for a bit. It’s a relief, but its no vacation. When I get home it always feels like there’s a never ending list of shit to do because there is. 

There’s house stuff, cat stuff, comedy stuff, podcast stuff, relationship stuff. Stuff.

I’m starting to appreciate the actor’s life a bit more. It’s like the comic’s life only you’re away for longer. As lonely and weird as that can be, it’s not your house or real life, really. It’s like a dream. When I get home, I’m awake. 

It’s nice to be back. I really don’t assume that my cats are going to remember me. It takes them a couple of days to adjust to me being around and in their face on the regular but they all come around eventually. I really don’t understand how people do it with kids. It seems like it would be kind of heartbreaking to be away from your kids when they are at a certain age. The thought that they may not remember you or that it could permanently alter your relationship with them must be so difficult. I am so happy not to have them. 

I mean, with cats, even if they don’t remember you, once you start feeding them regularly they’re fine. That’s probably what it comes down to. ‘Oh, yeah. This is the guy that used to feed us and now he’s feeding us again.’ It’s probably similar with kids. Deeper, but similar. 

There’s a lot less to remember for a cat. They aren’t growing into a full, complex self. They’re pretty much all them after the first year or so. 

When I do get home I aggressively jump back into my habits. I did do something new this time. I have this electric bike that I haven’t really ridden. I decided to take it out for a spin down to get a sandwich. I got all set to ride and I had a bit of a struggle with myself about whether or not I should wear a helmet. I have one. I just didn’t really think it was cool to wear one. They are pretty silly looking. I’m 60 and I’m worried about looking cool on my bike. Crazy.

I was already wearing shorts and sandals. I was thinking, ‘fuck it. I’m not really going that far. It’s a bike.’ These electric bikes get going though. I think the whole pedal assist idea is silly. It’s basically a moped. 

I decided to wear the helmet. I decided to not look cool for a couple of reasons. The first being, no one is really looking at me on a bike in my jean shorts and sandals thinking, ‘That guy is cool.’ I’m 60! The other reason is I didn’t want to crack my head open like a dumbshit. That was the real deciding factor. To get a traumatic brain injury by falling off a bike at my age was a big enough motivator. 

The pride I felt for making that very basic, very practical adult decision was embarrassing. I was really patting myself on the back. I felt like I was making a real sacrifice in the name of safety. It was ridiculous. I guess that is the nature of aging though. 

In a lot of ways I think wisdom is learning how not to be careless and to have enough forethought to assess possible consequences. 

I did still feel like I needed some recognition for making the choice. I’ll give it to myself now. Hey, Marc. Great job wearing the helmet. That was the responsible and safe thing to do. You’re all grown up now. 

Thanks, Marc. 

Today I talk to the very intimidating Michael Rooker about his life and playing very intimidating and scary roles. On Thursday I talk to Paul W. Downs. He’s a writer, creator and performer on the show Hacks.

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Childless Cat Lady Man.

I miss the cats, Folks.

I guess it's time to come out. 

I identify as a Childless Cat Lady Man. It’s a relief to get that out in the open. 

I’ve spoken publicly many times about being childless and happy about it. Not happy in general, but happy. I’ve done a lot of material on it. Specifically about my life as a cat owner. I’ve also explored why it’s different but similar in terms of one’s ability to love a human being. 

I have nothing against children. I have nothing against people who have them. I don’t judge their decision to have them though I have joked about it. This new framing of childless people being anti-American somehow is pretty fucked up and creepy. Especially coming from a political party that used to scream about big government and its power over our lives and freedom. 

They’ve already made abortion illegal in many states. It’s also troubling, to say the least, that they seem to want to legislate against divorce. What could be more overreaching in terms of government than stifling physical autonomy and the ability to make decisions about your relationships in life. 

I understand the christian nationalist agenda to legislate based on biblical morality which is in of itself anti democratic. Anti-American. 

I am not too far from the compulsion to think conspiratorially. To speculate wildly. It is from this place that I posit the following ideas. 

When children aren’t wanted or, for whatever reason, are forced to be brought up in a loveless or hostile environment they are wired by trauma. Whether the abuse is physical or emotional it stifles or destroys a kid’s ability to develop a grounded sense of self. They are set out into the word angry or shattered. Poorly parented. Over time, without guided introspection, that generational anger and despair can propel them into seeking strength from exploitative people that manipulate them into whatever their agenda is. Feed on their damage to serve their own purposes. When it’s political, this is the fuel of fascism. Now, I’m no professional and I’m just speculating, but damaged people can also lose control of their lives and become strung out on whatever makes them feel better at the risk of everything that dignifies life. Possible crime as well. Then they end up on the wrong side of the law and maybe prison. 

Fascism and prisons are big business right now. So, whether it's in the guise of moral legislation or fear of becoming an ethnic minority, the drive to stifle personal freedom and force people to have children is scary shit. 

Also, on a similar note, trauma and damage causing people to never feel whole is also a primary driver of capitalism on the consumer level. That’s another whole ball of wax and products. 

Many people don’t have kids for many reasons. So what? Leave them alone. There’s enough kids in the world. 

The act of self-sacrifice to put a stop to generational trauma because one doesn’t feel like they can parent properly should be commended, not shot down. 

For me, I just never really wanted or thought about having children. That, in and of itself, is enough. Though the underlying reality is not wanting to continue family trauma. 

So, fuck off. I’m okay being a Childless Cat Lady Man. 

Today I have a delicate but good talk with Moon Zappa about her new memoir. On Thursday I talk to the very funny comic Blair Socci. Love her. Good talks. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Dead Rat Weight.

Home for a bit, Folks

It was helpful. I got a lot done. 

There were a lot of open-ended, evolving events at my house. There always is with a house. The primary storyline from the last time I was home was the rat issue. Is there a band called Rat Issue? There should be or maybe there should've been or maybe a CD title. Mine. That would mean I would have to construct a full comedy bit about the ongoing tale which really didn’t turn out to be that exciting. 

To recap from the last installment if you haven’t been keeping up: The last time I was home I was about to leave. A car was on the way to pick me up and I smelled something. I knew the smell. There was just a hint of decaying animal in there air. All the cats were accounted for so I knew it was something in the bowels of the house. 

I went down to the crawl space, which is large. It’s more of a basement but most of the floor is dirt. I hadn’t been down there in a while because to go down there you need a reason and I haven’t really been home for a minute. It was the source of the smell. 

Before I happened upon the rotting culprit I noticed the rat shit. More than I had ever seen in my life. Usually you say things like, ‘There were droppings.’ This was a much bigger situation. There were what seems to be thousands of rat shits in what seemed to be allocated areas. I could not believe it. I thought, ‘Holy shit, I’m going to be consumed by a thousand rats like that movie Willard." That did not happen. 

Remember, I was about to be picked up to go back to Canada. I pulled out the shop vac and frantically started vacuuming all the rat shit which seemed almost futile. I thought I might just have to ditch the house and move. While I was vacuuming I saw the tail leading to the rat that was rotting behind a piece of plywood leaning against the wall. When I moved the plank, I knew it was dead, but I still gasped like it was going to jump on my face. It was a large animal. I freaked out for a second but I knew I had to man up. I’ve been down this road before. I ran upstairs, put on some disposable plastic gloves, went back down, picked up a shovel to scoop the dead guy into a bag. I couldn’t get it on the shovel. It was big. So, I picked it up by its dead rat tail and put it in a Whole Foods bag and put that in the garbage outside. 

That feeling of holding a dead rat but the tail with all that dead rat weight is a bit traumatizing. 

I don’t know how it died but judging by the amount of shit I thought there had to be at least fifty more down there. 

I set two traps with peanut butter and left for the airport. 

I could not shake the terror of coming home to two huge dead rats. I thought about it every day. The anticipation. Then I got an email from a listener chastising me for vacuuming the rat shit because it could break up into dust in the air and probably give me Hantavirus. So, for a week I thought I had that on top of the terror of coming home to the dead rats. 

Well, I got home and paced myself. I got grounded in my house before I went to face the carnage. I considered TikToking my journey downstairs and the reveal of the corpses but I decided that was exploitative and not great entertainment. 

I went downstairs… Nothing. Empty traps. Relief. I think that’s why I worry. I’m addicted to the relief of what I’m worrying about not being true. Which is most of the time. 

I thoroughly cleaned the basement, masked. I patched the one place they may be getting in. I also kind of think that maybe my house has been like a rest stop for rats for generations. Just a place to take a dump and get a nap in. 

I know this is not an exciting end to the story but there was no more death. I did some research and apparently a rat can shit 40-50 pellets a day. So, it might’ve been that one guy living the good life with me in my house AND it apparently died of natural causes. 

At least I learned something. 40-50. That’s a lot of shit. 

Today I talk to singer-songwriter Jimmie Dale Gilmore about his new record he made with Dave Alvin. On Thursday the very funny comic Beth Stelling is on the show. Good talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

A Scrolling Problem.

Addiction, People.

I feel like we’ve been talking about it a lot on the show. It’s good.

I just watched an IG reel of women fake farting with their backs turned to their male partners for a reaction. I watched it like four times. I have a problem. A scrolling problem. I know I’ve talked about it before but I have to get a handle on it.

Look, the way to determine whether you have a problem or not is figuring out if it is making your life unmanageable and if so, can you stop. I don’t think my life is unmanageable. I do find my entire brain engages with the content and locks in for quite a bit of time but when I pull out I know where I am and reality doesn’t seem disappointing. The question of whether or not I can stop is valid. I may have to try.

Sorry, just took a hit. I just watched Rob Reiner discussing the scene with his mother in When Harry Met Sally followed by the guy who interrupts weightlifters and out does them followed by little kids seeing their grandparents after not seeing them for a while followed by an entire bull being cooked on a spit outside for shawarma sandwiches. That just happened. That's a lot. I’m crying. It was the grandparents one. It’s a legit buzz.

I have to kick.

I did some comedy last night and there were a lot of baby comics there, newbies. They were asking me questions. Looking for advice. I can’t really tell anyone anything other than what I know about how I do it which is not for everyone. The one thing that resonated with me in talking to them was the feeling of fear and nervousness about doing 5-10 minute sets when that is all the time you have in your act. There’s no back up. That’s it. Whatever it is. They certainly aren’t going to be your best jokes but they are the only ones you have. I remember that feeling of paralyzing nervousness about going on stage. It could be weeks away and everyday you’re just going over it in your head. Your brain is looking for a way to just relax about it but it's not able to find a way. It all converges on taking the stage and doing it. There’s nothing you can do other than know your shit and the rest is kind of a wild card in terms of maybe fucking it up somehow or the audience just not getting it or shit, anything could happen in a live situation.

I do not miss that feeling. Those original fears of living the life of a comedian. There are always some fears but those basic ones are behind you. I never want to feel that way again. Then I realized I am feeling that right now.

Alejandro Escovedo is here in Vancouver tonight and he asked me if I wanted to play a couple of tunes with him and the band. I said sure. I thought maybe we’d do a Velvets song or maybe some Iggy. He said Neil’s Like a Hurricane and Beast of Burden from the Stones' Some Girls record.

I know both songs but I’ve never played them. I’ve learned them. Now I’m just sitting in the fear of playing them. I don’t have the same confidence playing music as I do with comedy and I’m freaking out a bit. I’ve played some in the last couple years but I don’t want to choke, which I do, almost always. So, the panic has set in but I’m excited. At least I won't be up there alone.

I told a friend I was doing it. He said, ‘just have fun.’ God, I want to but I just don’t know where fun comes into it. I just want to do well. Even if I do, I probably won't think that I did.

I realized that the having fun part of whatever I do creatively is way down on the list of goals. I just want to land whatever it is I’m doing. I think I’m that way with everything. I have to lighten the fuck up. It’s getting late in the game. I have to figure out this ‘fun’ thing.

Today I talk to Wolfgang Van Halen about his music, his father, grief and the pressure of being the kid of a singular global talent. On Thursday I talk to Anna Akana. She’s a comic, actress and writer who I met recently who is doing a show about grief in the wake of her little sister's death and how it affected her life. Good talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Relief.

A new day, People!

Thank all the gods. I’m totally on board the Harris train. What a fucking relief. I think what is to be learned at the core of everything that's happened over the past, uh, four years, is how stubborn, proud and a bit delusional old ass men can be. 

I can see it with my dad. It’s hard to shake pride and anger. They seem to be the last things to go. At least with him. He has dementia, so it’s more than just old age. All the good memories and specifics seem to fade, but anger and pride remain. They are frequencies. Defining ones. 

I guess I understand. Self awareness and reflection are hard at any age. I know for myself it’s hard to acknowledge aging and what it is doing. I can see it physically but I can already see how mentally accepting it and its impact is hard. There is nothing I can do about it. I can fight it or see that as staying healthy but it’s a tough thing to swallow. Because ultimately you don’t win. 

I talked to my dad the other day. His wife had gotten into a fender bender. She was rear ended. The guy may have been drunk. It fucked up the car but thank god she’s okay. When she got home, my dad saw the car. Now, my dad is hobbled at this point. He needs to walk with a walker. He’s not quick anymore. There’s a lot of space between his thoughts generally but I imagine the space between thought and action is similar. All that is to say, when I said I’m glad she was okay, he said, ‘She’s lucky I wasn’t there. I would’ve killed the guy. I would’ve stuck a knife so far into him they wouldn’t be able to find it. Who drinks that early in the day? The world would be better off without him.’ Quite a detail. The ‘so deep they wouldn’t be able to find it' part. 

This is the part of my dad’s brain that remains. Violent fantasies. 

When I told Kit she said that’s what dementia does. It makes them say crazy things. I was quick to tell her he always said those kinds of things. The sadder part of it all is why that part of his brain is so intact and any memory of my childhood home is gone. I guess the angry part is what stays fresh, active. The past part isn’t immediate. Unless it made him angry. 

I was in LA over the weekend. It’s been nice being home for a few days but for weird reasons. I can't complain about how I’m set up in Vancouver and, as I’ve talked about, I love it up there. But when I’m away from my stuff for too long my brain gets a bit too much space. If it can't land on all the bullshit that surrounds my life at home - i.e. cats, Kit, house maintenance, comedy, books, records, my home habits - and I’m not really engaged in my immediate surroundings as anything but temporary, I drift. I drift into my past, my present and my assumed future, with a judgmental eye. I start to take myself apart a bit. I think some of it is healthy assessment and reflection but some of it is just undermining. That’s why I need my stuff, my habits, my distractions and patterns. So I at least have an engaged and constant and enforced barrier to too much me. 

Today I talk to fellow Jew and writer Shalom Auslander about his new book ‘Feh’ and other neurotic related adventures. On Thursday I do a rare in-car talk with comedian Clare O'Kane. She was opening for me on the road. Both fun talks!

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

It Is Bad.

Strange days of horror and disbelief, Folks

Some kid shot at him. 

It was strange hearing about it up here in Canada. I was at a movie when it happened and I came out and Kit had texted something I didn’t understand in reference to it and I texted ‘what do you mean?’ That’s how the news broke to me. 

I can be ignorant about some things. Probably many things. One thing is I don’t really know anything about the Canadian government in terms of how it works, the layout of the country, nothing. I know who Trudeau is but that’s about it. 

So for my being, I am in a political free zone. Nothing pressing for me up here. From what I can tell the reaction on the streets here was pretty much nothing. I don’t know what it was down in America but you become very sensitive to the psychic shifts of the cultural consciousness when you are in the big brain of it. I was not. 

I was alone up here in a way. Even among people. I didn’t really talk to anyone on the phone in America. I texted a couple of people. I did have a visceral emotional reaction. I could feel the rush of pure hopelessness which is not one of the good rushes. 

I knew one thing, I had to get on stage with it. I process on stage. I needed to make it funny. I knew it was just hours after, all the information wasn’t in, but I had to get up there. If I needed to release some steam I assumed others would as well. I felt I could make it funny. It’s tricky. I’ve always been that way. It was arguably too soon, but does that even apply any more with how fast things move into the past and get lost in the flood of garbage we distract ourselves with? Now, if it feels like it's too soon, tomorrow may be too late. 

Also, there wasn’t a huge risk to taking it on. I was going to perform in a basement in Vancouver for 40 people. 

I knew the feelings I was having. I thought about how to put them out there. Frame them so they were jokes without question. They were easy ones, really. But it made me feel better. 

The interesting thing about the night was that the host did some crowd work at the beginning of the show. He asked if anyone was from out of town and there was a couple there from Dallas, Texas. I’m thinking, ‘Fuck, they’re here. Texans. Representatives from one of the true fascist experiment states.’ All of a sudden I was questioning doing the bits because I didn’t want to deal with the tension. Then I realized that’s what’s at stake if and when American authoritarianism happens. Which is now more likely. 

I don’t really think most people, certainly not here in Canada, know the dire and dangerous precipice we are on in America. It’s not immediate up here. It’s not their country. I get that. 

I don’t think most Americans really know. It is bad. 

It was that moment of realizing that me stifling myself in light of Texans being there is how authoritarianism works culturally. Make people afraid to talk, to push back, to fight fascists. Then I started thinking about the real threat of it as a government. The federal government is one thing but state governments run by Christian Nationalists could easily start legally enforcing repression of speech and ideas in their state by passing laws there that enable them to do so. With sympathetic judges to decide the outcome. You could do jail time for talking shit about Jesus. Which is kind of one of my favorite things to do. 

We’re just barely past obscenity laws being over-enforced. 

All these anti-woke hacks yammering about being cancelled as a point of view is impotent. There could come a time when there are legal consequences to speaking your mind in the near future in some states. 

I did the jokes. The Texans were good ones. The jokes were funny. I felt better. 

I did say that the idea of Trump being a shoe-in now, for me, is kind of like being diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer of the spirit. Not so much a joke. Just a poetic idea about the death of the democratic experiment. 

Today I talk to Trey Anastasio from Phish. Yes, it happened. Thursday I talk to comedian Dan St. Germain. Great stuff. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Thought Portals.

Moving through it, People.

Sometimes I have to contract into a ball of fury and frustration and aggravated resignation to pop open again. I guess this is what growth feels like as an adult. The trick is getting more and more space between the contractions. 

They’re getting more spread out. 

It’s just been a very productive few days. But not in the getting things done way, really. In the creative way. I am acknowledging that. I take things for granted and sometimes I don’t process whats transpired in me over an arc of a few days so I can understand what the fuck is happening. 

I think I finally figured out how to appreciate and feel the satisfaction of acting in film or television. 

I was home in LA for a bit. I got back into the life. The one where I hang out with the cats, fix shit around the house, cook, hang out with Kit, drive around LA, do comedy, get preoccupied with a lot of maintenance tasks, go out to eat. In other words, being fully consumed by a never-ending list of things to do with the idea that I can do them all. It’s amazing to stay distracted and avoid doing creative work. I’ve been doing it all my life. 

Then, flurries of inspiration take my brain to a new place. I’ve never had much control over the flurries but they come. 

So, a few things happened. I came back to Vancouver on Thursday. I had one scene on Friday. End of the day. I had no dialogue. It’s me walking out of an RV after something happened. Must be literally 12 seconds of screen time with no real action other than walking out of the RV. I had a moment of inspiration about a couple of physical choices that could happen in the 12 seconds. I did them in the takes. I could feel them land. It was then I realized if I look at even the smallest scene there is an arc to it and I can play that and try to land it. Like a bit, a joke. If I feel it land I can get that satisfaction. If the director feels it land. We did it. How it cuts later is not my problem. Out of my hands. 

I also did some comedy at a space up here and I think the room could be very productive for me. There are no established clubs around. There are comic-run rooms in establishments that usually have some adversity to them like seating, people, distractions. This place is called the Comedy Underground. It’s a basement space with low ceilings which are always good and it’s set up like a little club. It seats about 50. I did a spot on Friday and the next day something just gave way in my brain. 

I realized that I am in one of the best cities. The weather is great. The people here are different than in the US because there is still a premium on decency up here. Fewer assholes and the assholes that are here aren’t armed or really that scary. So, the audiences were great for me. I promoted the Saturday spot on IG. Sold out the 50 seats and had a productive set. I came up with a lot of thought portals that could yield some big ideas and bits and worked them through in real time because of the intimacy of the place and the people. 

It was exciting because staleness is soul death. 

I’ve been using my time filling my brain with reading and working on standup, going over my scenes and focusing on the script I’m working on with Sam Lipsyte. A lot of good collaborative stuff happening. Discovery. 

Look, these feelings could all be gone in a day or two. I just wanted my appreciation of them on record to remind myself why I do what I do. 

Today is a sweet chat with comedian Stavros Halkias. Good guy. On Thursday I talk to Clarence Maclin about the new movie he’s in called Sing Sing and about his time in jail and the arts program that saved him, Rehabilitation Through the Arts. Great talks. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

No Time for Empathy.

Hola, People.

I’m loopy. 

On Friday night I did a night shoot. Those are tough. We had one exterior scene that had to take place at night. It was a less-than-two-minutes scene. We started shooting around 10 and I didn’t get out of there until 3. I got back to where I’m staying at 4. I had a car picking me up to go to the airport at 8:15

It’s difficult to do the acting when you are contending with the specific type of fatigue that comes from lack of sleep. It is part of the job. 

I was panicking about getting home that morning. I had a 10:25 flight and all I wanted was to break up the night from the day with at least a couple of hours rest. Just so my brain would reset. I can handle no sleep. I did morning radio. I know that if I can collect the hours the next day, even if they are not in a row, I can function. I knew if I got the first three hours and I got two on the plane I may be able to function the next day. 

That was the plan. 

I get on the plane and I’m flying coach. I had no choice. I know this sounds like a luxury problem and perhaps insensitive to the everyday plight of human beings but coach is unbearable. I saved my money. I don’t have dependents. I fly first class or business because when you travel constantly it makes a difference spatially and psychologically. 

No go. Coach it is. 

I see a lot of videos of people losing their minds on planes lately. I couldn’t really figure out why until my flight home. Many people I have spoken to say Covid broke people's brains and they can't deal with things anymore. That may be true. I don’t know what the exact brain math is but I get it. 

I remember years ago, before I stopped using drugs, I was flying back from a festival and I had been up for a couple of days. I got a window seat on the plane just so I could pass out and be in good enough shape to lie to my wife when I got home. 

The woman sitting next to me had an awful, phlegmy cough that she couldn’t control the entire flight from Seattle to NYC. Anytime I would drift off I was startled awake by a tubercular explosion. I remember it now because I don’t think I could’ve hated a person more. I just couldn’t believe my luck and I was out of my mind. She was sick. It was no time for empathy. I had to get my shit together with sleep. 

I was on the aisle on Saturday. I figured I could sleep no matter what because I was going to be wiped out. The guy who sat in the middle was a large fellow. Tall. Not threatening but a big boy. I fell asleep waiting to take off. I got about an hour. 

As soon as we got in the air, this guy was in motion. He had a movie on his phone, he was playing video games on the screen of the plane’s entertainment system. He had two books out. He was reaching into a backpack to get chips out of a very noisy bag. He ate a sandwich. He kept shifting his body. He was like a giant four year old.

I felt a rage come over me. I just needed to sleep. 

Somehow, I entered some kind of meditative state. I decided the guy had some kind of neurodivergent issue. To my surprise, my empathy enabled me to accept the situation. Just as I got to a place of acceptance he fell asleep. I couldn’t. I was all jacked up with the energy it took for me to deal with the situation without anger. 

That said, I totally get why people lose their minds on planes. 

Today I talk to Paul Scheer again about his new book and reframing childhood trauma. Thursday I talk to the amazing actress Julianne Nicholson about acting and life. Great conversations. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

My Little World.

Running around, Folks.

It's been a busy couple of days. 

I shot a scene on Friday and then performed at The Vogue Theater in Vancouver. The place was sold out. I wasn’t nervous but I was dubious. It had been weeks since I did the full set. I don’t know what it is about me but I no longer take into consideration how long I’ve done this. If I get away from it even for a week or two I think it’s all going to go away. 

There’s a pretty fine line between talking funny and just talking. It’s a slight emotional adjustment. It’s a muscle. I feel like if I don’t keep it taut what I'm saying will just come out sad. 

I underestimate myself. I’ve been doing this for more than half my life. A lot. Like, all the time. 

I really get myself worked up. It really isn’t nervousness though. I have no fear of being on stage. Especially for my audience. It’s really just a fear that whatever vulnerability I access could turn on me and I will fall into myself on stage. 

Charlie Demers opened for me. He opens for me all the time in Vancouver. After the show he brought something up. He said that it’s kind of amazing the trust I’ve built up with my audience.  It goes both ways. He said it enables me to go places that are personal and challenging and make them funny. I’m paraphrasing, but it was something like that. I had never really thought about that. It’s true. I’ll put it out there. All of it. 

My dynamic with my live audience is one of the most trusting relationships I have. Not unlike my personal relationships there’s always a little part of me that doesn’t trust the trust and kind of wants to push the limits of it. I guess that’s sort of what I do. Exciting. Dangerous. My little world of show business. 

That’s why doing short sets on showcase shows with a broad audience is so important. It works that muscle. I don’t really trust those crowds but I have to put it out there and make it funny without the depth or risk I engage in with my audience. Keeps me armored and a little defensive. That’s the workout. 

The audience at the Vogue was perfect. Polite, grown up, not necessarily knowing exactly what to expect but knowing me. It was a great show. 

I flew down to Seattle the next day. I love the Pacific Northwest. I used to love Seattle. It always had a darkness to it but I found it kind of enchanting in its weird grittiness. Coming down to the Seattle Pac Northwest from the Vancouver Pac Northwest was jarring. The grittiness has gotten rough and menacing. The aggression and desperation in some areas was frenetic and very dark. It exists in most big cities but the contrast is mind-blowing. It feels out of control and sad and scary here. In Canada it seems sad but the people seem decent. I’m not sure how to gauge the decency here in the U.S. anymore. Or if it even exists on a large scale. 

The Moore Theater was packed in Seattle and the show was great. I was warmed up from the night before and I did like an hour-forty. The crowd was awesome. When things are bad here in the States the shows seem necessary. My audiences are mostly grown up, decent people who are like-minded. It feels like a reprieve. Some kind of dark, relatively safe space to get some deeply needed laughs as we try to navigate a failing civilization. 

Glad to help out. 

Today I have an amazing, engaged talk with Jewel. Really good. Thursday I have a hilarious riff chat with comedian Gareth Reynolds. Good week. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

A Bumpy Ride.

Fathers, Folks.

I know I am fortunate to have my father still with us, mostly. Hell, I’m lucky to be here. We’re both alive. That’s kind of amazing.

I was trying to assess my relationship with my dad over the years. It was Father’s Day, so I thought, let’s get nostalgic. Let’s run that slide show of all the amazing times I had with him. Turns out either I lost all the good ones or they just were never on the drive. 

I think the earliest memories I have of him were probably when we lived in Alaska and he was in the military. I remember my mother drove us out to the military hospital where he was working. It was far. We sat and waited for him until he came out in his scrubs. Looking back on it, it might have been one of those situations where my mother just showed up to remind him he had a family.

I remember walking in Alaska on a dirt road and we were confronted by a giant bull moose. We froze and slowly walked away. I remember the moose. I don’t remember how my dad handled it. I believe I may have been on my dad's shoulders. We may have ran. It was a bumpy ride. 

I remember going clamming and salmon fishing. Little jars of eggs.

I remember when he was team doctor for the New Mexico Thunderbirds and almost being decapitated by a professionally thrown football. That has nothing to do with him other than maybe putting me in harm's way. 

He tightened my bindings too tight on a ski trip and I broke my leg. He set my leg. I still walk funny. 

He ran my foot over by accident years later and broke my ankle and set it. It turned out okay. 

He was bipolar so the ups were exciting.  There was a lot of positive and negative motivational energy around whatever he was obsessed with or maybe something he couldn’t find, like a wrench or a hat. There was a lot of laughing and crying and chaos.

He was very depressed on the day of my college graduation and hours before the ceremony he wandered off and we almost called the cops. He came back. He had gone to a bridge and done some thinking and decided against taking action. I got a diploma. 

When he was depressed for weeks my mother used to say, ‘Go upstairs and make your father laugh. You’re the only one who can.’

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, was the beginning of my comedy career. So, I have to thank him for that. 

There were some good times but not really family or father-son times. Just manic adventures of sorts. 

We’ve had a difficult go of it over there years but now that he is winding down I have closure and peace with the guy. 

At some point, if you have a parent that you have problems with most of your life, you have to make peace within yourself. Find the things that you inherited from them and look at those traits as positives. If they weren’t positive, choose against them as much as you can. If they were chaotic and manic traits, trim them up a little bit and find the inner vibe of them and see if they are part of your engine in a proactive way.

Turns out manic charm and erratic emotional behavior can be pretty good for comedy. 

Thanks, Dad. 

Today I talk to actor Jude Law about the stuff. Good guy. On Thursday I talk to Geezer Butler about being the bass player for Black Sabbath. Real rock. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron

Keeping It Together.

Doing the work, People.

We spent the day on the golf course shooting a scene. 

I’ll be honest with you, I’ve picked up a club maybe twice in my life at a driving range when I was kid. I remember hitting the ball pretty well but probably only once. The second time, I didn’t do well at all. I had no idea what the point of golf was or how the game was played. I like whacking the ball and the couple of times I connected it felt pretty satisfying. 

There was plenty of downtime on the set. There’s always plenty of downtime on the set. There are clubs and balls. There’s a couple of pro golfers. So, I got a quick lesson and took a shot at a couple of balls. I connected with the first drive. Got some air and some distance. It made that noise, that ping and crack. It felt pretty good. 

I don’t think I will get the golf bug. I don’t think I really want to. Seems like it would take a lot of practice and time and the transcending of almost constant frustration. 

I get it. The meditative quality of the process. The time outdoors. The shit talk with friends. The manageable competition. The challenging of oneself. It’s not for me. 

I don’t have the patience. The discipline. I have the discipline for one thing. The focus for one thing. One creative outlet that I am passionate about. Comedy. It is part of me. It fits me. It’s my being. I’m pretty good at it. 

I have the discipline and follow through for the podcast primarily because I am interested in people and like to talk to them. I need to talk to them. I need to engage. To get out of my head and into the lives of others. To engage empathy and understanding and learn new things. 

Both the podcast and comedy are immediate. In the moment. Alive. Kind of infinite in creative possibilities if I have the courage to speak. Put it out there. 

I guess golf is pretty immediate but unfortunately it’s more than just whacking the ball without any consistency. 

Acting can be immediate. I want to love acting. I want to lose myself in it. I always wanted to do it. I’ve done it on and off for years. I’ve taken classes in my life. I’ve tried to make choices, take risks. I’ve been told I’m good at it but I rarely feel like I’m doing much. 

When making TV you do small bits and pieces, out of order, sometimes over and over again. Then you wait and wait and then act for a few minutes. 

I started to think that when you’re at the level I’m at, I can't really say I have a ‘craft.’ I started to think that for a lot of people acting is not a craft. It’s something you get away with in bits and pieces. 

If someone wants to be an actor it may also be because they just don’t want a real job. 

You get paid to pretend to be someone else. To be honest, it takes everything I have to just be me. I really just want to be me. I’m not pretending to be someone else. I’m just usually pretty uncomfortable with the self I am. Maybe I’m pretending to be me. 

And I think most people spend much of their lives pretending to be someone else. Just control that skill and your acting. 

The other thing about acting is, no matter your process, if you are successful there is no end to the amount of your shit that people will put up with. I am obviously not at that level in any way. 

I’m no diva but the other day I had a call time of 1pm on set. I was sitting around waiting to do my two lines… for five and a half hours. I was keeping it together. It’s part of the job. I’m getting paid well. I just need to suck it up. But I couldn’t understand why they just didn’t have a later call time. Eventually my frustration and anger won out. I walked up to the directors and the producer and basically snapped a bit. ‘What the fuck am I doing here? Why was my call so early? It’s crazy.” The producer pulled me aside and asked me what’s up. I said, ‘This is why I didn’t even want to do this. I get that there’s waiting but this is ridiculous. I don’t want to be an afterthought on this thing.’ He was contrite. He said they were just getting the kinks worked out with the process and that I should’ve had a later call. He said I was essential to the show. He said all the right things. 

I walked away feeling bad for losing it but on another level I felt like I had arrived. I’m an actor. 

Today I have a great talk with Ed O’Neill. Thoroughly entertaining. On Thursday I talk to Ali Siddiq. He’s one of the best comics working. 

Enjoy!

Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!

Love,
Maron