The Fun Dude Goes Hollywood, Act 2

Saturday, May 9th: Eight Days Left on Land

“To Sea or Not to Sea, That Is the Question!”

10:00 a.m.

I’ve got a lot to see today. And a lot to think about. Although I’ve been on hiatus for four months and should be looking forward to returning to sea next Sunday, I’m not rested or relaxed in the least. From the moment I moved into my rented room in San Diego on Feb 1st after a fun but challenging six months at sea, until the moment I drove into Los Angeles yesterday afternoon, I’ve been chained to my computer working on my one-man-show, writing new standup material for myself and other comics, getting my MySpace page and blog together, submitting rants to http://www.thegloomers.com/. If it weren’t for my daily one-hour walks to the beach and back, I’d be a basket case.

I love working on The Ship so much, but logging long hours seven days a week on five hours sleep and having to share a tiny cabin with another person is downright brutal. Yes, it’s worth it. But still it’s brutal. If I wanted to return to The Ship refreshed I should have spent the last four months sleeping and exercising.

So, I’ve been hustling ever since I got off The Ship, trying to get back into comedy full time so I have another option should I decide I can’t handle another contract as The Fun Dude.

Add in the fact that I’ve been dealing with a lot of personal and family issues I don’t feel like writing about just yet, and I simply am not in the right mental place for returning to the emotionally challenging and physically demanding life as The Fun Dude.

Financially speaking, I should have went back to sea two months ago. I’ve been blowing through my savings at a frightening pace, don’t own a car and no longer have health insurance. I didn’t realize it would take me so long to go back to work, so I only bought three months’ worth of vacation health coverage from The Company.

10:30 a.m.

OK, I’ve spent a half hour soul searching in the front seat of my rental car instead of sightseeing. I’ve got a lot of stuff planned so I better get started. I reach into the back seat and grab the itinerary I printed out on Google Maps a couple nights ago.

As I explore Los Angels today, every stop on my sightseeing trip will remind me that I have a very difficult decision to make: “To Sea or Not to Sea.”

10:45 a.m.

Musonia School of Music on Tiara Street in West Hollywood. (Not even two miles from where I’m staying.)

This is the famous music store and school once owned by Delores Rhodes, the mother of the late heavy metal guitar hero Rhandy Rhodes. This is where Rhandy taught guitar before joining Ozzy Osbourne’s band in 1980.

In 1982, Rhandy died in a tragic plane crash in Florida while in the middle of a very successful tour.

Voice in My Head: “Life is short. Make sure you spend it doing what you really and truly love to do and don’t spend one second being unhappy.”

11:00 a.m.

The Hollywood Bowl:


Voice in My Head: “If I move to LA instead of getting on The Ship, I would have the time to see a lot of concerts here. I just wouldn’t have the money. So maybe I need to go back to work for a year or two and save every penny, then come back to LA better prepared."

11: 20 a.m.

The legendary Samuel French Bookstore on Sunset Blvd.:

They have just about every book ever written about acting, directing and writing for TV, film, and the theater. I pick up two books: one on writing a one-man show, the other about breaking into voice-over work.

Voice in My Head: “If I move to LA, I’ll be able to work a day job and spend my evenings taking acting classes and writing workshops while breaking into the local comedy scene."

12:00 Noon

Runyon Canyon Park:

I’m having a complete nervous breakdown. I have eight days before I get back on the ship and something’s telling me to just pack up my stuff and move to LA instead.

But I love being the Fun Dude and have a lot of people counting on me. My friends back on The Ship have been overworked and under-staffed and are patiently awaiting The Return of The Fun Dude!”

But my roommate situation last contract really messed me up in the head and I simply have no idea how I can live on a ship again for six months in a tiny cabin with no sleep and no privacy. Plus I would have limited Internet access, limited TV, limited reading time, and very little time or energy for working on my standup act or writing this blog. My Cruise Director is very supportive and gives me free reign to do standup on The Ship, but I believe that when I’m working for someone else, the job comes first. So when I get back on The Ship, I have to be ready to put my own goals aside and give everything I have to entertaining the guests and supporting my teammates.

Yet, every fiber of my being is telling me to risk everything and head back up to LA next Sunday instead of getting on the ship. The Ship is an awesome place to work, but the thought of living on at sea for six months has me wanting to lie down on a park bench and cry.

Voice in My Head: "Help!!!"

Before heading off to the next spot on my sightseeing list, I call up three of my comedy buddies here in LA and ask them to help me start coming up with a plan for moving up next week.

In less than an hour, I have a place to stay, a car to borrow, a way to get health coverage, a line on getting into the local clubs and some leads on day jobs. So now maybe I'll go broke in four months instead of three.

2:00 p.m.

The La Brea Tar Pits:

I’ve been fascinated with the La Brea Tar Pits ever since I was a kid.

Now that I’m an adult, I’m equally annoyed that “la brea” is Spanish for “the tar,” so when I say “The La Brea Tar Pits,” I’m actually saying, “The ‘the tar’ Tar Pits.”

Voice in My Head: “What if I move to Los Angeles and then find myself being sucked into a black, sticky tar pit of dashed hopes and broken dreams and wind up as some middle-age fossil on display at the Los Angeles Museum of Failed Comedians Who Give Up a Fun Job on a Cruise Ship That Allows Them to Live and Eat Expense Free and Save Up All Their Money Instead of Moving to Hollywood at the Washed-Up Aged of 43 and Going Broke in Three Months?

3:00 p.m.

Santa Monica:

I’d like to park the rental car and walk over to the famous Santa Monica Pier, but traffic is horrendous so I drive around just long enough to take a picture of the Santa Monica Civic Center. Van Halen used to sellout this 3,000-seat venue back in the good ol’ days before they even had a record deal.

Voice in My Head: “Do you realize you just drove an hour in Saturday-afternoon traffic just so you could take a picture of a venue Van Halen played over 30 years ago? Why don’t you just drive your rental car off the pier and put yourself out of your misery once and for all?”

3:15 p.m.

Malibu:

I take Pacific Coast Highway 1 to Malibu and stop at the Getty Villa in Pacific Palisades only to find out I needed to make a reservation first in order to see the museum.

Voice in My Head: “See how important planning ahead is? Maybe you should go back to The Ship, save your money, then move to LA when you’ve had ample time to plan and prepare.”

8:00 p.m.

Mulholland Highway, Calabasas:

Earlier this afternoon I took the N-9 north from Malibu and then picked up the Mulholland Freeway through Calabasas and accidentally went the wrong away. Although it was one of the most beautiful drives I’ve ever taken in my life—the mountains, the trees, the mansions—I wound up back in Malibu where I started two hours later instead of getting back to my friend Stanley’s apartment in time for dinner.

Exhausted from a day of sightseeing and soul searching I lie down for what I hope will be a half-hour map before hitting the nightclubs on the Sunset Strip, but instead wind up sleeping till nine o’ clock in the morning.

Voice in My Head: “Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….”