take martin to work

The listener and I finally had time to read yesterday. She had to stick labels to the tops of ice cream containers while we read, but we still STILL got to read. And it was awesome!

We’re only about halfway through the book, but we’re still enjoying every word of it. And, seriously, if you haven’t gotten yourself a copy of the book by now - DO IT.

Back when Martin was still new to the comedy scene he developed some pretty amazing crowd control tactics - one being this:

When a heckler started in on him, he’d say something along these lines, “Oh, I remember my first beer…” (Only I’m paraphrasing because Martin would have said it much better.)

or

He’d talk so quietly that the majority of the crowd could not hear him, so they’d start in on the heckler to get him to be quiet so that they could hear Martin.

This last one is ultra-genius. And the listener and I are going to try it out on Monday. 

What’s Monday? Well, you see, the listener helps me out on Mondays by volunteering as a Junior Official Lunch Lady at my kid’s school. I developed the lunch program and run it with the help of a small group of volunteers - and am lucky enough to count the listener as one of those volunteers!

But noise is a definite problem with the kids we wrangle at lunch time. Some days I think I’ll just go running from the building and never look back. But this idea of talking to them as a group very quietly in the hopes that some in the group will ask others to be quiet so that they can hear…amazing.

Monday. Experiment time. Can’t hardly wait.

 

Little (tall) listener needs a hug. If you see her, give her one.

I’m on your side, listener! And here’s some Martin logic for you:

All boys are stupid and no boys are stupid.  

(I believe in contradiction.)

…The real Martin came and went so quickly. Too quickly.

You know what’s so strange? When two (very) different people experience the same thing and then have strange subconscious matching reactions to the experience. I know this makes sense to someone somewhere. I do.

The listener and I saw Martin live. It was so fun and so exciting and so inspiring. And then that same night we each went to our own homes (the listener to an apartment overflowing with plants that she has the magical ability to grow, and me (the reader) to a 1961 sprawling ranch house completely devoid of plants altogether,) and started tearing something apart - the listener? House plants. Me? My closet.

The listener did some tricky business where she unpotted a giant plant and took it apart and made smaller plants from the bigger plant. She pruned and potted and reduced and recycled. When she was finished: order out of chaos. Perfectly potted plants in a row.

I opened my closet and got rid of nearly everything - I pruned (and potted the items directly into bags heading for Goodwill). Then I started on shoes. And then I attacked my dresser. When I was finshed: Forty (40!) empty hangers in my closet and one entirely empty drawer in my dresser. Order out of chaos, see?

What is it about Martin that made us want to shed so? I wish I knew. 

I can only assume that seeing something like Martin’s show makes you want to do something. To simplify. To stand back and admire your work. Or to leave it all behind, take up the banjo and start touring the country.

I think that last one isn’t really it, but the bottom line is this: Martin puts on a great show. And seeing it will make you come home, dismantle something and then put it all back together again.

PHOTOS TO COME. Of plants and closets.

I’ll start by saying this: if Steve Martin comes to your town with the Steep Canyon Rangers and you do not eat really shitty “tacos”, “margaritas” and “guacamole” then go grab a few ice cream novelties THEN sit in rush hour traffic for over an hour and a half to get to the venue to see him, then tip toe through a seams-busting crowd, find a spot on the grass where you can spread a blanket out into a thin strip requiring you and your friends to sit single file (shortest to tallest), then you are not a person worth knowing.

Just kidding.

Kind of.

The above description pretty much sums up how we spent from 4pm until 6:30pm this past Thursday - as we were folding our legs underneath us (some longer than others), Martin walked out on stage. We literally sat down and the show started.

And what a show it was! We’ve known forever that Martin in special. Self-evident, obviously. BUT Steve Martin WITH A BANJO is a new story entirely. He’s so good! He’s so happy! And the Steep Canyon Rangers are so perfect for him - young, talented and really good at letting Steve do his thing while still holding their own.

We listened. We laughed. We contemplated humanity while examining the majority of the crowd. We used a single-eye binocular. Which is most likely a monocular. We gave a coffee punch card with the URL to this blog scrawled on it to two youngish girls who were holding up a sign for Martin explaining to him that he is their special purpose. 

It was definitely over too fast. And we’re definitely sad that it is over. SIGH.

We did sneak in some reading right after the show. More on that to come. 

Additionally, the show had a strange after-effect on both of us. Hint: we both stayed up past our bedtimes that night doing something that wasn’t necessary yet was very satisfying. Explanation (with photos!) to come.

If you’re not enjoying the show, you’re wrong.