Coming back to Vancouver

April 26-28 I’ll be headlining at the new Yuk Yuks in Vancouver.

     It’s the first time I’ll be back in Vancouver since filming my Blind Ambition special at the Vogue, and I’m excited. I have so much to say on the mic right now. Vancouver is like my comedy confessional, where I can say exactly how I feel about anything and everything before I try it anywhere else. After all of these years Vancouver is still my secret weapon.

     I didn’t get to see many people after the Vogue show -- I was just overwhelmed, but on this trip I wanna embrace being back and working a late show, doing a hour, and getting that connected comedy intimacy that I have come to know and love.

     I headlined Yuks in Vancouver in January, 2010 right before the Olympics. Standing room only shows. A lot has happened since then. Let’s talk about it.

     It’s gonna be good to be home for a little while and show you what I have been working on.

FOR TICKETS AND YUK YUKS VANCOUVER INFO, CLICK HERE:

COACH JIMINEZ

    Nostalgia has become my best friend as of late. I don’t know if it’s a sign of getting older, or because I am at the cusp of another major life change.  Nostalgia woke me up at 4:30 to remind me that there was a single man and a single event that changed my life and gave me the fuel to be the hard working delusional dreamer that I am...   Coach John Jimenez of Santa Maria High School is retiring and his impact on me has been immeasurable.

     It was ’82, and I was a sophomore.  I was a good basketball player but not special.  Like today, my ambition and dreams were much more prominent than my skills.  Add to the raging imagination some combustible hormones and a lethal dose of shy nerdiness and you got 16 year old me.   I had a crush on every cheerleader and any girl that said “Hi” to me.  Like today, I thought any communication at all from a female meant a request for my loins.  I had even discovered, after hours of self-studying in the mirror, that by tucking my lips in and keeping my eyebrows raised was how I looked best and most irresistible.  I walked around school waiting for girls to be bowled over by my lipless cool mouth and pre-Botox eyebrow arcs.  It got to the point that even when I scored a basket, I ran down the court like that.  Then came Coach.

     Coach Jimenez was the JV coach, and I was a little perturbed at not being put on the Varsity.  I played 1 on 1 with Fish and Cowger every day.  I put books and shoes and canned goods into a suitcase every night before bed, put that suitcase on my knees, and did calf raises.   My best friend Eddie Johnson was on the Varsity football team as a sophomore, and we had planned our lives every Friday night since the 6^th grade.  I would sleep over and foretell our future with these dreams of fame, fortune and females.  Never once did “JV” enter our Friday night dreamweaving.  Coach Yanez, the Varsity coach, told me I could play on Varsity, but that I’d sit on the bench and that Coach Jimenez wanted me on the JV’s.  I began the season hating Coach Jimenez the way you hate anybody that wakes you up from a good dream.

    He had a huge mustache, a huge knee brace and a real little pair of brown corduroy OP shorts. He ALWAYS wore a Nike T shirt.  That guy was on my ass from the second that I got to school.  Always teaching me post up moves on the way to class.  "Lenox when you get in the post you gottta put your butt on the defender’s legs and put your elbow in his chest so he can’t get around you”.  I’d just stand there with my tucked lips and high eyebrows just in case anybody was watching.

    Our first game of the year was against Santa Barbara High, and they were a bigger school. A win against them would be a big deal for us. I was dominant in the layup line. I had all my cool moves down:  Slap the glass, get above the rim, finger roll, and unnecessary spin on the way to the bucket.  Yeah, I was ready.

    I scored 10 points in the first quarter, and we led at halftime. In the second half, I turned into Charlie Brown when he was winning the race and started fantasizing about the little red headed girl and ran off the track.  I fouled out early, and we lost on a lay up at the buzzer that I know would have never gone in if I was under the bucket. I stormed off the court and slammed through the doors of the locker room.  I hadn't meant to push them as hard as I did, but the noise turned heads.  Coach came out of the office and said “WHO slammed he door?!”  I stood there scared, and he knew it was me.  He grabbed me by my jersey and slammed me against the wall and growled at me. “We lost that game because of you! Stop trying to look so goddamn cool and just play ball Lenox!!!”

    Now if that happened today, Coach would be on Dateline NBC, I’d be crying on the Nancy Grace show, and my mom would have Al Sharpton picketing the school.  I guess that’s the difference between teachers then and now. Teachers then would not hesitate to tell you the truth in order to teach. Today not getting sued is just as important as getting the kids educated. 

    After practice, the following Monday, Coach made me stay after and sweep the floors.   That's when I snapped and yelled, "why you always on my case?!”  Cue dramatic music that indicates words of wisdom are near: “Darryl, you are the one who wants to play college ball. You gotta work harder than everybody else. If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t be pushing you at all.  I know you can do it but you gotta be willing to put in the work.”  That became the first time anybody ever believed in me, and I immediately unfurled my lips and straightened my eyebrows.  I did eventually play college ball but that isn’t where I really saw the benefits of my 1 year of playing for Coach Jiminez.  It has been in the two decades of chasing this show business dream, and becoming a better man, friend, husband. “…You can do it. You just gotta be willing to put the work in…”

Thanks Coach…Embrace your legacy, put your butt on its legs and your elbow in its chest so it can’t get around you.

    

NOSTALGIA THE PATRON* SAINT OF LOVE

It is a born gift to be a canvas or the palate of an artist,

To accept being the instrument of a Creator’s insensitive intentions.

The acceptance of it makes you the God and the artist the reverent servant.

Much has been said about the smile of Mona Lisa but never has it been asked why she smiled.

Maybe it was that she knew that the art was not about her but the being still and letting the artist express.

To be expressed upon or about without blink or fear or defense is more than mortal.

To graciously receive the lavish is to know that it is more important to the giver than the receiver.

That is a class untaught. 

That is you.

 *I meant the tequila, not the Catholic

HOW’D THE SHOW GO?

I have been asked by many people how the show went last Saturday.  I don’t know.

On October the 3rd I lay in the bed at the hotel and I closed my eyes.  In my mind’s eye, I saw the crowd standing.  My inner voice started narrating my past to the image of the standing crowd. “They are standing because you finally achieved what your ex-wife demanded of you.  Be a man.  They are applauding because you didn’t need to be on Letterman to do something special on TV.  They are cheering because you aren’t as famous as Charlie Murphy, Tom Green or Gerry Dee.  You are you, and they are standing and cheering because you are you.” 

I snapped and began to cry hard- Good Will Hunting “It’s not your fault” crying.  When the tears stopped my life had changed.  I felt it.  Trust me I know that feeling of “My life will never be the same.”  I felt it when I got kicked out of Canada in ‘05.  I knew it when I finished that second surgery last August.  I don’t really know how it has changed but I know it has.
 
I don’t remember much of anything from the set except the picture of people standing up at the end.  I was told the set was 90 minutes and that the ovation was close to 5 minutes.  Maybe when I see the tape I will have more thoughts about it, but right now the only feeling and memory I have is that standing crowd.
In love, I have always quested for the chance to love as hard as I can.  To be all the way “me.” Weird, irreverent, too intense, a megalomaniac, and an introspective crybaby.

That crowd Saturday night let me love that hard.  It’s a rare thing, as anyone who has ever been in love or had their heart broken can attest to.  Those standing forgiving, empowering, understanding and affirming hand claps let me love as hard as I could.

Maybe that’s why they stood up, maybe that’s why I cried.

Anyway, that’s how the show went.

YOU GOT THE GOLD BUT I GOT THE VOGUE

I have spent my whole life chasing dreams and failing miserably. Some people call it faith - some people call it magic thinking or the “secret.”

My ex-wife called it “lying.”

I used to walk miles every day in Surrey listening to Toni Braxton telling me to “Breathe Again.” I would create visualizations of getting back to LA and showing my wife I wasn’t the “loser” she dumped. That dream never happened.

I used to walk miles in Burnaby listening to Babyface ask me “When will I see you again.” I’d envision being famous and getting the Maple Ridge Girl to come back to me. That dream never happened.

I used to walk for miles on Hollywood Boulevard listening to homeless people telling me to give them spare change or read their script. I envisioned getting on Letterman and telling all of those people who didn’t believe in me, “Revenge is a dish best served out of my ass.” That dream never happened.

I used to walk a few blocks on Granville listening to people be mad at the Canucks on their way to the Roxy. I’d walk by the Vogue Theatre and envision my name on the marquee.

On October 2nd

THAT DREAM HAPPENS!!!!!

It was faith, magic thinking, and lying. I did all of that but what really made this dream come true is

BLIND AMBITION

Come and let me thank you, Canada.