Carnegie Hall - September 24, 2006

I tend to get pretty excited over milestones in Lewis' career, probably more than I really should, but, hell, that's what being a fan is all about. Unfortunately, sometimes I forget to tone that excitement down when talking to, say, my mother.

I was on the phone with mom in early September gabbing about nothing much. She asked if I was planning any trips and I mentioned going up to NYC to see Lewis perform at Carnegie. Mom is only vaguely aware of who Lewis Black is. She knows I go see him a lot, but if he came up to her on the street and poked her she'd have no idea who he is. So I'm going on and on about how awesome it is that he is performing at Carnegie Hall and how excited I am to be there to see it, when my mother, out of the blue asks,

I quietly pound the phone into my forehead for a few seconds until I recover enough to speak.

The weekend of the 24th rolled around quickly. Unfortunately, I only had an overnight to spend, so it was going to be a whirlwind trip. I was camping out with Martha, of Lewapalooza fame, at a lovely hotel off 34th Street. She was in town on business as well as going to the show and I took advantage of the free room offer. I got into the city about 10am, headed to hotel, met up with Martha briefly and dropped my bags. Then it was to midtown for lunch with friends. I wandered back to the Hello Deli and had a nice talk with Rupert Jee. As well as being a fan of Lewis, I am a long-term Letterman fan. Been to the show countless times and have made friends with Rupert and many of the LS staff. Rupert inquires about my impending move to NYC and tries to convince me I'm crazy. I try to sell him my house on the Bay. Great fishing, I tell him. You can use it as a vacation home. No dice. I get a t-shirt and head out.

Get back to the hotel about 3pm. I take time for a quick nap and a refreshing shower. Martha and I head out around 5pm to the Carnegie Deli to indulge ourselves in pastrami, pickles and cream soda. We head out at such an early hour 'cause we just know we will have to wait in line. I have never ever not waited in line at the Carnegie Deli. But to our surprise we are seated almost immediately.

Seating at the Deli is family style and you never know just who you will be seated next to. Today we are lucky; we have two wealthy, older ladies from the Jersey shore at our table. They are talkative and a bit catty. When our Asian waitress fails to bring coffee in what is determined to be an appropriate amount of time, one of the ladies makes an ethnic reference I can't print here. And while it was terribly un-PC, it was also hysterical. We lapse into several bouts of laughter in spite of ourselves. We finally settle down and the waitress brings the coffee. We burst into laughter once again. Probably a good thing we had our food already, less chance of something happening to it. We bid our table companions good night and head out. It's 6:45pm. We have a good 45 minutes to kill. I know, let's find a bar!

And find a bar we did. A nice one in a classy Greek restaurant. I can't remember the name to save my life, but it was a couple of blocks down 57th from Carnegie Hall. Martha and I sidle up and order, her, a scotch, me, a bourbon. We then proceed to flirt furiously with the very cute Greek bartenders. I love Greek men. Flirting is a sport with them and they are great fun. And these guys were quite skilled at it. They flirted with every woman there, their tips increasing by the minute. We kill enough time and bid our hot bartenders goodbye. And yes, we left a good tip.

We get into the lobby and wait to catch up with Christina and Mike-Lynn, a couple of fans who have made the trip from WI. Amazingly, we spot each other in the mass of folks in the lobby. After intros and pleasantries I take a couple of minutes to brag a bit. The gentleman who handles the merchandise for Lewis had contacted me a while back and wanted to use one of my photographs (from the Lewapalooza show in Norfolk) for the T-shirt commemorating the show. I, of course, said yes. In fact, I think I my response was, "HELL YES!" So I take the gals over to the merchandise table and point this out to much oohhing and ahhing. It did come out great and I can't thank Dan enough. It meant a great deal to me to be more than just a part of the audience for that night.

It was getting pretty close to show time so we work our way up to our seats. It was too bad all of us were in different sections, but coordination wasn't possible for this particular show. I take my seat upstairs and am a bit overwhelmed by the place. It had been years since I'd been to Carnegie and I had forgotten what a magnificent venue it is. I highly recommend taking in a concert there or at least taking the tour. Not many theaters are more impressive.

The place is sold out and the crowd is buzzing. Nothing like a hometown crowd for added excitement. First to take the stage is jazz saxophonist Jane Ira Bloom. Ms. Bloom is a friend of Lewis and used to perform at the West Bank Café when Lewis was resident playwright there. Her style of improv jazz is unique and probably not exactly what most of the audience was familiar or comfortable with. There was definitely some restlessness during her set, but folks were mostly polite. Some smartass did yell out "FREEBIRD!" at one point, eliciting chuckles from the much of the house. But that incident was brief and she left the stage to applause.

Next out was John Bowman. What can I say about John? He's always hilarious and that night was no different. I get a kick out of him jumping into the audience and skulking around. You can just see terrified audience members slinking into their seats. That night was no different and John found a guy to bother.....and hug.

Back on stage John decides to do a little interpretive dance for us. One particular pose is a bit daring and John looks to have pulled a muscle. Perhaps he should do a few more warm-ups before those routines. John wraps up to big applause and we're off to intermission.

Intermission is uneventful and I take the time to encourage everyone in my section to go buy a t-shirt. Not like I was getting commission off the sales, but I enjoyed letting everyone know I took the pic on the front of the shirt. I even offered to sign programs if anyone was interested. No one was. At least I sold a couple of shirts.

Intermission is over and John comes back out to introduce Lewis. The place goes absolutely nuts. Lewis hits the stage and it actually takes my breath away. There he is standing on perhaps the most famous stage in the world, at what is most likely the height of his career to date and the crowd is roaring. The energy was palpable. I can not begin to imagine what that must have felt like for him. I know from my spot it was unbelievably intense. It was an amazing moment to witness.

Once the crowd settled down, Lewis launched into what was to be a 90 minute performance. He covered everything from his mother's seemingly nonchalant view of him playing the Hall to Terry Schiavo to the Correspondent's dinner. Some of the routines were similar to what I had seen in during the summer, but with slightly tweaked set-ups. There were no less than 30 minutes of brand new material and the Radio and TV Correspondent's dinner bit was absolute perfection.

After a particularly inspired rant on the ineffectualness of the Bush administration, Lewis had to take a moment to recover. And thank god, because so did the audience. He stood, hands on hips, looking to the side and took a few deep breaths. After another round of laughter, he looked out at us and said, "Wow. I saw blue sky there for a moment." The place went nuts yet again.

After wrapping up the show, Lewis took the time to thank everyone and let us know how much the night meant to him. It seemed right at that point, the significance of performing at Carnegie Hall really hit him. His voice broke with the emotion of the moment. I don't know about the rest of the audience, but I certainly had a lump in my throat listening to him.

Lewis walked off the stage to a thunderous ovation. As the lights came up, I looked at the folks I was sitting with and could barely complete a sentence. Pretty much all we could say was "Holy fucking hell that was amazing."

I meet up with Martha, Christina and Mike-Lynn in the lobby. They too are knocked out by the performance. More profanity flies. It seems to be the only way we can describe the show.

Martha and I part ways with the gals. Off to meet up with friends and re-hash the show. We all drink and talk 'til the wee hours of the morning. Back to the hotel around 3am and Martha and I still can't believe what an amazing show Lewis put on. We know it was recorded, so at least we will have a CD to remind us of all the great material we were so quickly forgetting. We finally crash around 4am.

I'm up by 10am to meet a friend for brunch. Martha bows out and continues to sleep. In the cab on the way to the restaurant I beat myself up for not getting pics of the venue last night nor of the posters. In all the excitement I simply forgot. DAMNDAMNDAMN!

After a hearty breakfast at a café on Broadway, I convince my buddy Don to walk over to Carnegie with me to see if I can get at least a couple of pics. Much to my dismay the posters from the previous night are already down. Fuck. We work our way around the venue and find an open door. There is a young man sitting at a desk behind the ticket window. We inquire about the posters from the previous night. I'd love to snag one if possible and I'm hoping they haven't been tossed. The guy tells me the artist took them. I doubt this story since he didn't even know who the artist was who had preformed, but there's nothing I can do about it. I only hope Lewis did get the posters.

I bid goodbye to Don late in the day and head out to meet my friend Rona for dinner. I'm amazed at how much I am cramming into a 36 hour trip. Rona and I eat at Cité thanks to Don who handed me a $150 gift card to the place. We indulge in their Wine Dinner and proceed to get happily smashed on good wine and magnificent food. We pour ourselves into a cab and head downtown. I bid Rona farewell at my hotel and instruct the cabbie to get her home safely. She's in much worse shape than I and I'm a bit worried she won't make it home by herself. But I'm already late for the airport and my car is waiting. I wave goodbye and make her promise to call.

I get to the airport in plenty of time and am thankful I will be able to sober up before getting in my car back in Virginia. Rona checks in safe and sound and I'm off to the plane. As I sit there thinking about the weekend I realize how lucky I am to be able to do this sort of thing. I've only slept 6 hours in the last two days. I got to see my favorite comic perform, got to hang out with friends old and new, ate great food, drank good liquor and generally had myself one fucking good time.


		Live at Carnegie Hall September 24, 2005
	New York City tourist asks a passerby, "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?" Passerby responds, "Practice."
Performing in the legendary hall is an achievement artists of all genres strive for. For most it is the pinnacle of their careers. As a fan I couldn't have been more excited when I got the news Lewis was going to be performing there. His name would be added to a prestigious list of comedic geniuses like Lenny Bruce, Andy Kaufman and George Carlin. I immediately made arrangements for tickets. This was a show I was not going to miss. I tend to get pretty excited over milestones in Lewis' career, probably more than I really should, but, hell, that's what being a fan is all about. Unfortunately, sometimes I forget to tone that excitement down when talking to, say, my mother. Case in point... I was on the phone with mom in early September gabbing about nothing much. She asked if I was planning any trips and I mentioned going up to NYC to see Lewis perform at Carnegie. Mom is only vaguely aware of who Lewis Black is. She knows I go see him a lot, but if he came up to her on the street and poked her she'd have no idea who he is. So I'm going on and on about how awesome it is that he is performing at Carnegie Hall and how excited I am to be there to see it, when my mother, out of the blue asks, "Are you dating this guy?" "WHAT?!" I shriek. I quietly pound the phone into my forehead for a few seconds until I recover enough to speak. "No, mom, I'm not dating him. Why in the bloody hell would you think that?" "Well, you're just so excited; I figured there was something going on." "No, mother, I'm just a fan. You can relax." "Ok, if you say so." "Yes, mom, I say so. Goodbye." Sheeesh....And people wonder why I live 3500 miles away from my mother. The weekend of the 24th rolled around quickly. Unfortunately, I only had an overnight to spend, so it was going to be a whirlwind trip. I was camping out with Martha, of Lewapalooza fame, at a lovely hotel off 34th Street. She was in town on business as well as going to the show and I took advantage of the free room offer. I got into the city about 10am, headed to hotel, met up with Martha briefly and dropped my bags. Then it was to midtown for lunch with friends. I wandered back to the Hello Deli and had a nice talk with Rupert Jee. As well as being a fan of Lewis, I am a long-term Letterman fan. Been to the show countless times and have made friends with Rupert and many of the LS staff. Rupert inquires about my impending move to NYC and tries to convince me I'm crazy. I try to sell him my house on the Bay. Great fishing, I tell him. You can use it as a vacation home. No dice. I get a t-shirt and head out. Get back to the hotel about 3pm. I take time for a quick nap and a refreshing shower. Martha and I head out around 5pm to the Carnegie Deli to indulge ourselves in pastrami, pickles and cream soda. We head out at such an early hour 'cause we just know we will have to wait in line. I have never ever not waited in line at the Carnegie Deli. But to our surprise we are seated almost immediately. Seating at the Deli is family style and you never know just who you will be seated next to. Today we are lucky; we have two wealthy, older ladies from the Jersey shore at our table. They are talkative and a bit catty. When our Asian waitress fails to bring coffee in what is determined to be an appropriate amount of time, one of the ladies makes an ethnic reference I can't print here. And while it was terribly un-PC, it was also hysterical. We lapse into several bouts of laughter in spite of ourselves. We finally settle down and the waitress brings the coffee. We burst into laughter once again. Probably a good thing we had our food already, less chance of something happening to it. We bid our table companions good night and head out. It's 6:45pm. We have a good 45 minutes to kill. I know, let's find a bar! And find a bar we did. A nice one in a classy Greek restaurant. I can't remember the name to save my life, but it was a couple of blocks down 57th from Carnegie Hall. Martha and I sidle up and order, her, a scotch, me, a bourbon. We then proceed to flirt furiously with the very cute Greek bartenders. I love Greek men. Flirting is a sport with them and they are great fun. And these guys were quite skilled at it. They flirted with every woman there, their tips increasing by the minute. We kill enough time and bid our hot bartenders goodbye. And yes, we left a good tip. We get into the lobby and wait to catch up with Christina and Mike-Lynn, a couple of fans who have made the trip from WI. Amazingly, we spot each other in the mass of folks in the lobby. After intros and pleasantries I take a couple of minutes to brag a bit. The gentleman who handles the merchandise for Lewis had contacted me a while back and wanted to use one of my photographs (from the Lewapalooza show in Norfolk) for the T-shirt commemorating the show. I, of course, said yes. In fact, I think I my response was, "HELL YES!" So I take the gals over to the merchandise table and point this out to much oohhing and ahhing. It did come out great and I can't thank Dan enough. It meant a great deal to me to be more than just a part of the audience for that night. It was getting pretty close to show time so we work our way up to our seats. It was too bad all of us were in different sections, but coordination wasn't possible for this particular show. I take my seat upstairs and am a bit overwhelmed by the place. It had been years since I'd been to Carnegie and I had forgotten what a magnificent venue it is. I highly recommend taking in a concert there or at least taking the tour. Not many theaters are more impressive. The place is sold out and the crowd is buzzing. Nothing like a hometown crowd for added excitement. First to take the stage is jazz saxophonist Jane Ira Bloom. Ms. Bloom is a friend of Lewis and used to perform at the West Bank Café when Lewis was resident playwright there. Her style of improv jazz is unique and probably not exactly what most of the audience was familiar or comfortable with. There was definitely some restlessness during her set, but folks were mostly polite. Some smartass did yell out "FREEBIRD!" at one point, eliciting chuckles from the much of the house. But that incident was brief and she left the stage to applause. Next out was John Bowman. What can I say about John? He's always hilarious and that night was no different. I get a kick out of him jumping into the audience and skulking around. You can just see terrified audience members slinking into their seats. That night was no different and John found a guy to bother.....and hug. Back on stage John decides to do a little interpretive dance for us. One particular pose is a bit daring and John looks to have pulled a muscle. Perhaps he should do a few more warm-ups before those routines. John wraps up to big applause and we're off to intermission. Intermission is uneventful and I take the time to encourage everyone in my section to go buy a t-shirt. Not like I was getting commission off the sales, but I enjoyed letting everyone know I took the pic on the front of the shirt. I even offered to sign programs if anyone was interested. No one was. At least I sold a couple of shirts. Intermission is over and John comes back out to introduce Lewis. The place goes absolutely nuts. Lewis hits the stage and it actually takes my breath away. There he is standing on perhaps the most famous stage in the world, at what is most likely the height of his career to date and the crowd is roaring. The energy was palpable. I can not begin to imagine what that must have felt like for him. I know from my spot it was unbelievably intense. It was an amazing moment to witness. Once the crowd settled down, Lewis launched into what was to be a 90 minute performance. He covered everything from his mother's seemingly nonchalant view of him playing the Hall to Terry Schiavo to the Correspondent's dinner. Some of the routines were similar to what I had seen in during the summer, but with slightly tweaked set-ups. There were no less than 30 minutes of brand new material and the Radio and TV Correspondent's dinner bit was absolute perfection. He ranted and raved and had us all breathless for the entire time. After a particularly inspired rant on the ineffectualness of the Bush administration, Lewis had to take a moment to recover. And thank god, because so did the audience. He stood, hands on hips, looking to the side and took a few deep breaths. After another round of laughter, he looked out at us and said, "Wow. I saw blue sky there for a moment." The place went nuts yet again. After wrapping up the show, Lewis took the time to thank everyone and let us know how much the night meant to him. It seemed right at that point, the significance of performing at Carnegie Hall really hit him. His voice broke with the emotion of the moment. I don't know about the rest of the audience, but I certainly had a lump in my throat listening to him. Lewis walked off the stage to a thunderous ovation. As the lights came up, I looked at the folks I was sitting with and could barely complete a sentence. Pretty much all we could say was "Holy fucking hell that was amazing." And it was. I meet up with Martha, Christina and Mike-Lynn in the lobby. They too are knocked out by the performance. More profanity flies. It seems to be the only way we can describe the show. Martha and I part ways with the gals. Off to meet up with friends and re-hash the show. We all drink and talk 'til the wee hours of the morning. Back to the hotel around 3am and Martha and I still can't believe what an amazing show Lewis put on. We know it was recorded, so at least we will have a CD to remind us of all the great material we were so quickly forgetting. We finally crash around 4am. I'm up by 10am to meet a friend for brunch. Martha bows out and continues to sleep. In the cab on the way to the restaurant I beat myself up for not getting pics of the venue last night nor of the posters. In all the excitement I simply forgot. DAMNDAMNDAMN! After a hearty breakfast at a café on Broadway, I convince my buddy Don to walk over to Carnegie with me to see if I can get at least a couple of pics. Much to my dismay the posters from the previous night are already down. Fuck. We work our way around the venue and find an open door. There is a young man sitting at a desk behind the ticket window. We inquire about the posters from the previous night. I'd love to snag one if possible and I'm hoping they haven't been tossed. The guy tells me the artist took them. I doubt this story since he didn't even know who the artist was who had preformed, but there's nothing I can do about it. I only hope Lewis did get the posters. I bid goodbye to Don late in the day and head out to meet my friend Rona for dinner. I'm amazed at how much I am cramming into a 36 hour trip. Rona and I eat at Cité thanks to Don who handed me a $150 gift card to the place. We indulge in their Wine Dinner and proceed to get happily smashed on good wine and magnificent food. We pour ourselves into a cab and head downtown. I bid Rona farewell at my hotel and instruct the cabbie to get her home safely. She's in much worse shape than I and I'm a bit worried she won't make it home by herself. But I'm already late for the airport and my car is waiting. I wave goodbye and make her promise to call. I get to the airport in plenty of time and am thankful I will be able to sober up before getting in my car back in Virginia. Rona checks in safe and sound and I'm off to the plane. As I sit there thinking about the weekend I realize how lucky I am to be able to do this sort of thing. I've only slept 6 hours in the last two days. I got to see my favorite comic perform, got to hang out with friends old and new, ate great food, drank good liquor and generally had myself one fucking good time.