The Bridgetown Comedy Festival gets better every year. I have been honored to perform in the festival all three years of its existence.
Sure, I have a hangover, a headcold, a bruised toe and a sprained finger, but I have my memories.
I drove Jason Nash up to his one-man show at Curious Comedy. Later, I caught Veronica Heath’s show, with handsome Dwight Slade, the charming Karl Hess, and the freshly baked Steve Agee. Moving on, I got to my own Portland vs. Seattle show, hosted by my friend Dax Jordan.
Portland comedy was supposed to be doing battle with Seattle comedy, but we all love each other too much. I wandered into my friend Alysia Wood’s show, where I saw the wonderful Heather Thomson. James Adomian closed the show in his new “look”, with a fedora and big beaded necklace. Time for the first afterparty. Mostly Seattle and Portland people the first night. The dance room, dj’ed by Barfly’s Jen Lane, rocked with hip-hop and disco until four-ish.
Woke up at the crack of noon, did my sketch comedy show from 8-9:30 and ran down to Rubber Bullets, with NYC/Seattle’s Andy Haynes, LA’s Brody Stevens, Hampton Yount, and Rory Scovel as an injured widower who loses money to Joe Frice. Wandered to the Comedy Calvacade, where Brent Weinbach’s character in a Kurta bemoaned the poverty of his childhood, growing up with only one Xbox, and an extremely persistent heckler annoyed Jason Nash, and later found Kevin Hyder’s joke notebook and was kicked out of the afterparty.
My show was at the “technically outdoor” venue Bar of the Gods. My hilarious friends Randy Mendez and Steve Agee were on it, and I also saw Claire Titleman’s amazing self-help method.
Friday’s afterparty featured what was, for me, the highlight of the festival. Warming up, I danced with April Richardson to Pulp. Later on, more drinks led to a FULL BLOWN DANCE-OFF, featuring fake breakdancing by Timmy Williams and a great turn by Seattle’s own Solomon Georgio. I woke up mid-Saturday, barely beating dusk.
I hit the lounge show at Hawthorne, watching Phil Schallberger have a GREAT set for a packed house. We rubbed elbows with dashing rogue Jon Dore. He’s very handsome for a comedian, very funny for a Canadian. I accidentally sat next to a hiding or hungover Matt Besser. (listening to stories later, I think he was recovering from or getting onto mushrooms.
I got to see an AMAZING improv show, featuring Janet Varney, Scott Adsit, Oscar Nunez, and Danny Pudi, who dropped a Roald Dahl reference.
Saturday night I hosted my own show with the very funny Paul Jay, heard a meditation on desire and birdwatching by Aaron Cayton-Holland, and closed by the antics of amazing headliner Victor Varnado, who by the way absolutely makes a dance party, if you’re having one.
Saturday’s afterparty started to get crowded, and I started running into local rockers and DJ’s who heard we had free drinks.
The Willamette Week’s Jay Horton commented, “If comedy keeps throwing parties like this, it’s gonna ruin its reputation.” I saw Matt Walsh wandering around after splitting a pot brownie with Besser.
Sunday’s shows rocked on, with the Famous Mysterious Actor hosting Ron Funches, Ron Lynch, and Matt Braunger, who pleaded, “Please- don’t throw ham at me!” I really wanted to go to Sunday’s afterparty. I wanted to. But my body would not be pointed across the river. Spirit willing, body weak.
I heard every comic from LA talk about Voodoo Donuts through his beard. Every room was the prom I wanted to go to, full of people I liked and people I wanted to know. I wanted it to go on forever. However, I would have died if it had gone on another day. Thanks, Bridgetown!
In this shot, the cast and crew re-enact a scene from Predator.