Jim Jefferies is cooler than my deck

15 Jul

This particular summer has been conspiring against me.  Why is it always about me?

Snakebite suffered a tragic injury while we were on “vacation” and as a result can’t be in a pool, river, creek, lake, or ocean. Bowling and messy crafts are out, too.  Her hand has to be dry and clean at all times.  During summer.  Oh, she also suffered a tragic middle school math average, which has also put summer school in our rotation.  It’s been a blessing actually, because now we have a reason to get up every day and Hot Tub and I have some alone time to go to the pool and not feel guilty about it.  But it’s just hot and thick everywhere else.  I don’t want to go hang out on any deck or patio.  Chastain Park Amphitheater is a stone’s throw from my house and you couldn’t pay me to go sit there (well, maybe you could pay me…I was too hasty).  I know I am good for one white knuckled trip to Six Flags, but that’s about it.  I just want to sit somewhere cool and be entertained.  Hey, the Laughing Skull Lounge is all kinds of cool; it’s dark and climate controlled, the entertainment’s good plus someone will bring you drinks.  According to headliner Jim Jefferies you just need to go behind the toilet door and through the burger joint to get there.  Score!

July resident, Krishna Prasad, got us, dare I say, warmed up and ready to go. Don’t be thrown by the name, he is definitely from around here.  And by around here, I mean Duluth.  You know I love it when people’s outside doesn’t match up with their inside, and frankly I am a bit jealous.  How awesome is it to be able to clear out your airplane row just by deciding to wear a turban on your flight?  I could have used some of that brown skin and a burqa last month for myself.

Matt Pharr, G.ed., played the race card throughout his act.  But, wait; doesn’t he look like a white dude in the picture?  Why yes, he is.  You know, white people have feelings too and have also been deeply affected by the racial ebb and flow in our big melting pot.   Matt is highly offended by the gratuitous use of the “N Word” (you know the one) in the African-American community and is positively stumped by the emotional captivity of blacks still working at Historic Jarrell Plantation.  Matt knows that Tyler Perry Studios may just save the black community from any remaining enslavement residue.  Having this interest in social anthropology, it is only natural that the History Channel should also spellbind Matt.  Or, as I call it, the “Hitler Channel”.  There I go making it about me again.  Sorry.  Matt touches on a notion that has always puzzled me too.  Historical re-enactments: how do they know they have the inflections and body language of delivery correct.  Clearly, there are no recordings of bygone speeches, only transcripts.  We also have no documentation of hecklers, like the “don’t taze me, bro” sound-bytes of days gone by.  It is good summertime fun to read aloud some, say, Abraham Lincoln addresses, but in thick, atrocious accents.  Try it.

Turns out that this oppressive, sizzling heat that we are all bitching about in Georgia is really just God’s way of barbequing rednecks.  At least that’s what Jarrod Harris thinks.  Who really knows God’s plan?  For instance, is it in God’s plan for us to not be able to have Chic-fil-a on a Sunday?  That just seems evil.  That’s not a loving God at all.  Jarrod has a whole bag full of things that he’s realized are out of synch in the world.  One of them is a re-occurring theme in my house: young children with iphones.  Kids should not be allowed to document adults and then post it on YouTube.  It is wrong for those smug kids to be able to judge, document and publish the shortcomings and embarrassing moments of adults.

Other Australian exports

Okay, Jim Jefferies.  Oh, my.  Um, wow.  So, I know Jim from listening to the Adam Carolla podcast.  He’s been on several times and is sharp, concise, informed, confident and has great music recommendations.  I totally dig his vibe.  But, I’ve neither seen his specials, nor TV appearances, so I don’t really know how he works a stage.  Let’s just start with that he is a master storyteller.  He can do jokes and bits, but it’s his recounting and off the cuff quips that are his magic.  Jim dispelled the female-magazine-editor infused myths of what men are looking for in foreplay and romance.  It’s not being tickled with feathers or doused with syrup.  It’s a pretty uncomplicated process…for men.  While we learned that Jim is strongly heterosexual later in the show when he unapologeticlly begged the girl at the table next to us for a no strings attached one night stand, he is aware that there are many advantages for men to be gay.  Gay men can split the expenses of dates and when they get irritated with their partner, they can just punch each other into resolution.  It’s called gay, because it means happy.  Gay men are thrilling and thrilled.  Everyone loves a good queen, but the lesbians are dour and unexciting.  This is because they are around bitchy women all day and have to talk through their issues.  Boo!

Jim went on to divulge true tales of airplane etiquette, and loving the USA (he’s an Aussie), but then expanded on some examples of how our American bravado and Jiminy Cricket myths surrounding how anything is possible if you just dream and try is a steaming pile.  Big, unattainable dreams set people up for failure and eventually just create screwed up, misguided monsters.  Our suicide rate, it turns out, is far higher than that of Africa: a place where people have distended bellies, an abundance of flies and no handles on their water jugs.  Familiar territory was tread as Jim pointedly ranted about how children don’t need to be given self-esteem, told that they are wonderful when they aren’t or smart when they are sub-average.  We agree that calling something by another name doesn’t change what it is.  “Learning difficulty”, while sounding innocuous, is just fantasy code for “stupid”.  It teeters the line of child abuse to teach children otherwise.  I suspect that he may be a fan of the Replacements song “Waitress in the Sky”, which cleverly addressed this topic way back in 1985.  It’s still a thorn.

Now, let’s get to the meat of the show.  Big Daddy and I were at the 10:30pm show, because everything through the weekend was sold-out or nearly sold out.  This late Thursday show was a bonus run.  Jim, had a few Jack and Cokes and a shot or so during his act.  I would imagine he had nipped the sauce earlier as well.  This does not bother me and frankly, there isn’t enough booze that could lubricate me into comfortably performing.  The bulk of my funny comes as I am nestled in a chair with a computer in my lap.  Alone.  Jim began walking into the audience and probing them with sometimes uncomfortably personal questions and observations.  I oscillated between wanting to pee my pants and a flipping stomach every time he looked our way, terrified to become his next object of narrow focus.  Very few people were safe as Jim crawled into their laps, wore their hats, mused about spooky old vaginas, stood on tables, went back to the bar and moved about freely.  Had he not been tethered to the stage by the microphone cord, who knows where he would have ended up.  Bulldogs, maybe?  There was a moment of realization when he asked the audience to please not Tweet any of the show or post anything on YouTube.  I already checked the internets this morning and aside from this blog, I think he’s under the radar.  Sorry, mate.  It was genius and bizarre.  I have never been to a show like this before.  Had it ended up on YouTube, it would be viral.  I would totally watch it again, just to make sure that it really happened.

After the show ended I went to say hello, gush a bit and get a picture.  He was completely tanked so our time was brief.  I did, however, overhear his conversation with a young girl who was asking him about influences and idols.  He said, “Idolize no one…that’s shit.  Just do your own thing”.  Or something like that.  I think that sums him up pretty well.

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