Failed Pilot

More Just Farr a Laugh press. In a few minutes, I’ll write a post that has nothing to do with JFAL.

Even though I’m #99, it’s the second one that people read. At first I thought that it was ‘100 favorite blogs’ and was horrified that someone reads 100 blogs.

First, my review of Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project:

I could have danced with more vintage footage (especially roast-related) and more performance footage. Plus, please dial down the “it’s SOOO politically incorrect!!!!” angle. No shit. It reminds me of when white (usually Northern) hipsters walk into a (real) rural juke joint in, say, Sugar Ditch, Mississippi, and come away from the experience wondering why their service was slow, or why they were made to feel slightly unwelcome, or why they overheard a comment about white people, or why the old guy in the corner made a rude gesture towards a female hipster, and then refer to the whole shebang as “politically incorrect.” Or when a young-ish, good looking female alt-country/roots musician gets offended when an 80-year-old Country legend grabs her ass or lets loose with the N-bomb. These are just hypotheticals. They do not resemble the Don Rickles situation as a whole, but they share one aspect with it: THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS.

My Don Rickles Story:

In 2001, I procured third row center seating for Rickle’s performance at a Tunica, MS casino. I wore my best suit, an arm sling, and a neck brace. A lapel microphone was wired from my inside jacket pocket (from a digital recorder), run through the arm sling, and taped to the inside of my wrist. Rickles stopped mid-bit, stared into my eyes for a long 2 - 3 seconds, shook his head in disgust, and kept walking. There were more, but this is the only prepared response I can remember:

“I was in a serious car accident. My wife died. I was just trying to cheer myself up.”

You can’t take on the master.