I'm a Published Author...

Years and years and years ago I created a booklet called a 101 comebacks.  I stuffed a 115 into there, I thought that was funny.

I followed it up with 101 more comebacks. I stuffed about 130 into that one.  I copied it and sold it in an ad in the back of Laughmaker magazine for $5.  I'm sure I paid for the cost of the ad, the copying charges and the postage.  But probably not.

This is maybe 1990.

I have been adding to this list of comebacks for all these years.  A few years ago, I sat down and wrote a few thousand more.  Yup.  A few thousand.

I copied them and had it bound at Office Max.  Each copy cost me nearly $5 and I sold them for $20.  I didn't break even.

There were a lot of typos.  A lot of repeated jokes.

My friend Mike challenged me to take on the hard comebacks.  "Hey Quit Clowning Around"  and "Why are Your Feet So Big?"

I also expanded my world.  I asked magicians what they heard most often.  "Can you make my wife disappear?"  I asked face-painters.  "Is it easy to wash off?"  "Does it hurt?"

I removed all duplicate jokes even though you can use the same response for "Is This All you Do?"  Whether you're a jugger, a clown or a magician.

My son helped me edit.  Duncan once described my use of the coma as a bloodbath.  Duncan did the mind numbing task of going through nearly 2000 one liners looking for grammar errors, phrasing problems and does the joke make sense.

Duncan came up with the idea of calling these one liners "Gotchas".  I didn't like the idea of the comeback because I don't think people are making fun or heckling.  They are engaging in what they perceive as a clever way.  As an improviser I want to Yes And them.  I want to acknowledge their joke and one up them.

A year ago I found the two publishers that put out this sort of specialty book.  I got a no thanks from one and never heard from the other.  I was honestly shocked.  I've never seen a book like this.  Maybe there's a reason.  Or maybe my jokes aren't funny.

This book sat on my computer for a year.

My brother writes science fiction.  He couldn't get his work published either.   He said get that thing out there, who cares who publishes it, you wrote a book.  It's no good on the computer.  Give it to the world.

I put in illustrations.  I organized and laid the thing out.  I hired a company to lay the book out for me and do a cover design.

On Tuesday, I released my book on Amazon.

It feels weird.  It feels like I don't deserve the nice words people are saying.  My old friend Gerald told me years ago, the inside of your head is a bad neighborhood.  He's right.

So.  Buy my book.  I've worked a long time on this.  There is nothing like this out there and it's just darned funny.

"Hey Quit Clowning Around"

By

David Magidson

http://www.amazon.com/Quit-Clowning-Around-David-Magidson/dp/1503387984/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1417312886&sr=8-1&keywords=hey+quit+clowning+around

The Long Walk...Again...

I went to see the kids at Family House.  Kids with cancer, parents living in a room across the street from UC Medical Center.  It's close to my house.

I got lazy this year...I drove.

I drove two goddamn blocks.  I'm the worst human on earth.  Maybe 2nd, after the guy that leads Isis.

It always feels so weird to carry all my stuff, I've got clown shoes on, my top hat on my head,  all my stuff in each arm, people on the street avoiding eye contact and I arrive all sweaty.  So leave me the  hell alone.

I found parking right across the street.  Came home and found parking right next to my house.  If you knew my neighborhood, you'd realize I used up all my Karma points on two parking spots.  I better cross the street very carefully from now on.

This year I realized how many times I say "dead"  "sick" "dying" in my show.  As part of my normal show I pretend that my juggling club died.  I pull out a ghost and pretend to be scared by it, I barf on the kids.

The audience has cancer.  Well a lot of the audience.  Some of the volunteers bring their own kids, those kids are just nuts, they don't care why they're there.  They like the pies and the clown.

The kids laugh because, a clown barfing on you is just plain funny.

I'm taking these folks away on a comedy journey.  So each time I came to a part of the show where I would say "Hey, I'm dying up here"  or "You're sick?  Oh you said six"  I changed the joke.

I don't know what it is about these cancer shows.  But I always kill.  In a good way.

This year I visited a girl that didn't come to the show, she was in her room watching TV. The mom asked me in broken English to come visit her daughter Claudia.

I had met Claudia when I arrived at the front door.  The family had come by cab.  I had Claudia laughing the minute she saw me.

My skill as a comedian,  I'm willing to go anywhere anytime.  I am agressive with my clowning, I don't ever wait for permission, I attack.  It worked really well with Claudia.  I saw the cab and started going for it.  Claudia had a mask on her face, she's in pajamas, she had no hair, she was in a wheelchair and 16 years old.  I gave no mercy and had her laughing like crazy.

I found out she was in the hospital the night before getting a bone marrow transplant.  The bone marrow came from her little sister.  Oy.

People act like I'm sort of saintly person for doing this.  I'm not.

This doesn't make me feel like a good person.  I'm just good at my job.  It was just another gig to me.  But I'm glad I got to meet Claudia.  I'm glad I could make her laugh.

My One Man Extravaganza

It's hard to let go.  I take it as a failure.  A personal, financial, creative failure.

And it's hard to let go.

Because I can't figure it out.  In my head, it all makes sense.  In my head, it's a great show.

And it's hard to let go.

August 2013, I was challenged by my son Dustin.  As my fans know, I do a new children's theatrical show every year around Christmas, usually after.  I stress, I complain, I hate it.  Till it's done.  Then I'm happy.

August 2013, Dustin said.  Just do it for yourself.  You always say there's no point in doing this show, just do something for you.  I took that to mean, do a show for adults.

The show was always about how I became a clown; my life story.  It went through a lot of incarnations.

I wrote a lot of sketch ideas and messed around with different ways of holding it together.  One Idea I worked on a lot.  God interviewing me.  I had a lot written me on a chair, God asking me questions.  I'd talk about my life, then do a sketch about that moment.  My parents divorcing.  My awkawardness around women.  Being a troublesome husband and father.

God had some funny lines.  I juggled in one sketch.  God said.  That's cool, can you do five?  I saw a guy do that with chainsaws, is that hard.

I stopped pursuing that idea when I thought it out and realized, I'd either need to memorize the crap out of it with a recorded God.  Or, more likely have an actor watch from backstage that would improvise with me as I messed up lines.

My show is my story.  I called it "Through the Eyes of a Clown"

I was on stage telling my life story, interspersed with sketches inspired by events of my life.  The show shocked me.  It was an hour and forty five minutes.  That's a real show.

People expected my children's show, so I booked it into a theatre.  Simultaneously, I did my one man show at night, in a whole different theatre.

Crazy?  Stupid?  Yes to all those things.

It was exciting.  I did my one man show.  I was so rehearsed by the time I went on, I was hardly nervous at all.  Amazing.

My sons, as always helped me.  We got into the theatre and they did a very cool light design.  Lights would change during sections and with emotions.  The theatre had LED lights so you can program colors too.  Very neat.

I had about 25 people come see me, over 3 nights.  I didn't care. I knew 19 of those people.  I had a whole tour in my head, I was ready to go.

No one else was ready.  I submitted the show to Festivals in NY.  No acceptance.  I got into the San Francisco Fringe Festval that was exciting.

I let the show sit for months, thinking about it all the time.

I listened to books on tape (on my phone, I didn't walk around with a walkman).  I listened to a lot of autobiographies read by comedians.  Sarah Silverman, Billy Crystal, Howie Mandel, Marc Maron.  Lots of others, I can't remember now.

I heard structure, timing how to create my one man show.  What was missing the first time.

And I worked and worked.  I did better clown sketches.

No one came.  I didn't expect the friends that had come before.  I understand.  But there were people that didn't come that promised they would.

And it sucked.  And I'm still mad.  I've seen a lot of shows of other people.  These people.  I'm still pissed, I needed them and they didn't come.

It's been nearly 3 months since I did the show...for the last time.  I have promo on my computer.  I can't throw it away.  I have programs on my desk, I can't toss.  I have the funny picture I used.  I can't delete it.

I don't know what happened.

I thought when I told my story, there would be a show people would want to see.

Sigh...

I was wrong...and it's hard to let go...