Tales from the Ville: Daddy Goose

As Father's Day approaches, it's high time I pay tribute to the other significant pater familia in my life, the one, the only Daddy Goose.

Without going into a long list of my credits, I have to admit that the years I spent out at Pollardville were the most creatively prolific in my writing life with material that continue to pay off to this very day. But for all the melos, sketches and gags I wrote or re-wrote over time, there is one person I managed to short-change:

Me.

When I first ventured onto the Showboat stage in 1979, I had just come from the Ghost Town where I had been the entertainment director for much of the past season. Therefore, I was full of piss, vinegar, beans and hops and wanted to take the theater by storm after that most amazing of all years playing in the streets of the Ville's backyard. I had already co-written LA RUE'S RETURN a couple of years earlier. And Bob Gossett, who was to direct his first melodrama, a revival of DOWNFALL OF THE UPRISING or WHO DO THE VOODOO? written by Marian Larson, asked me to be his assistant and to help him punch up the script. Naturally, I wanted to do more, submitting many a gag for the vaudeville section only to be roundly shot down by olio director Phil DeAngelo. I did manage to squeeze in one piece which, coincidentally featured myself as a cowboy and his dancing bear which he accomplished by shooting at its feet. Later on, the tables were turned as the bear made the cowboy dance in the same matter. Goldie played the bear and I believe that was where our long friendship was cemented. (Kind of a metaphor, eh, wot?)

But as time passed, I wrote more and more for the greater good which turned out to be those talented individuals I worked with. If I ended up in the melo/sketch/blackout, it was usually an afterthought or happy accident. Don't get me wrong. I had some great roles, but sometimes it was by default. I was my brother, Charlie. I shoulda been looked out for me a little bit. (As I try to make a point, I make no sense. Sue me.)

Further down the road came the first total rock n' roll olios, ROCK N' VAUDEVILLE. Since GOODBYE TV, HELLO BURLESQUE's guys number, "Hot Patootie" from ROCKY HORROR SHOW, more and more vaudevilles had more contemporary numbers, including rock ' n roll, so why devote a whole show around it? We decided to have a DJ character set up in a side stage studio set and that's when I developed the character of Daddy Goose, a beatnik well past his prime. this piece was just a variation on the old FRACTURED FAIRY TALES segment from THE ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE SHOW. (Jay Ward, the creator of that show and GEORGE OF THE JUNGLE has always been and always will be a major influence) So, I wrote a new version of Cinderella called Cinderbaby. She was a Valley Girl who lived with her Step-Mommy, a riff on Flip Wilson's Geraldine character, and her two hideous stepsister-The Lee Sisters, Ugh and Home. With the help of her Fairy Godfather (and all it implies) Cinderbaby was able to go to the ball thrown by the Prince, Little Red Corvette and all. Since this was a all out assault on Mother Goose, I came up with some nursery rhymes as well. This pre-dated Andrew Dice Clay’s X-rated versions by at least of couple of years or at least my awareness of them.

Look at me! I'm a weiner!

This was the beginning of my very short-lived stand-up career. Playing Daddy G twice a week on the Pollardville stage gave me the confidence to give it a try outside my comfort zone. It all culminated in 1987 when I entered and won the one and only Stockton Comedy Competition. At the finals, I performed a truncated version of Daddy Goose. Winning that event in itself was one of the definitive moments in my life. If somebody ever plays a highlight clip reel when I die, that night will be included. Okay, so maybe there are those of you who don’t get it. Perhaps you think that this is a lame claim to fame and that winning first place in a stand-up competition in Stockton, California is the equivalent of say, being crowned Miss Picante Sauce at the Salsa Festival in West Cowpie, Texas. But you know what? This brief moment in the sun means the world to me and, in my life, I will always have this particular fame to claim.

After I won, I attempted to bring Daddy Goose into the clubs, but it didn't translate and died a thousand deaths, sometimes in one night. I began to lose faith in the Goose, doing about as far as I could with the character, so I put him up in mothballs. When Ray Rustigian booked outside variety show gigs for many of the Palace Players, he always requested I bring back the Goose. I resisted, preferring to go with newer material instead. Ray had more faith in Daddy Goose than I did. In retrospect, he might have been right, considering the audiences we played to during those shows who might have preferred the old over the new. .

When I appeared in ANGRY HOUSEWIVES at Stockton Civic Theater, board president Helen Kastner wanted to put together a series of separate variety shows on Sunday afternoons that summer. She asked if I would throw something together and so I took that Pepsi challenge. The all comedy revue entitled NOW THAT'S FUNNY! turned out better than I ever could have hoped. The cast, made up of some Ville alums and other theater friends, was a total dream and the show itself, a combination of some of my original material interspersed with some old vaudeville bits like Dr. Cure-All (featuring the one and only D. W. Landingham) as well as other kibbles and bits I gathered hither and tither, made for a damn decent show if I say so myself.

As MC, not to mention director of this one time only event, I took advantage of the situation. I performed some stand-up, cast myself in some sketches and made damn sure that Daddy Goose would make a  grand entrance. I never had this much freedom of movement before. At the Ville, I was trapped on the side stage behind the KPOL set. Other times, I had to make due with a postage stamp size platform. But on the SCT stage, I felt unleashed. This is exactly how this bit was supposed to go, The end result was a personal triumph, probably the best performance of Cinderbaby I ever gave. I think for the very first time I totally owned Daddy Goose and it showed.

When I moved to Portland, I used snippets of the Goose for various audition pieces, mostly out of laziness so I wouldn't have to learn a new monologue. But I thought that was about the size of it until I put together a collection of my comedy sketches together for a book I titled NOW THAT'S FUNNY! (Hmm, that' sounds familiar...) Naturally, I included Daddy Goose,nursery rhymes and all, never thinking I would dust off the beret and shades again.

Then the Pollardville reunion reared its head in 2007 and when I was asked if I wanted to contribute to the show, naturally I had to bring back the Goose one...more...time. It had been 15 years since the last appearance of DG and I'm talking about from beginning to end. I rehearsed like a mofo at my Oregon home,until I made the trip back to the site of the Big Chicken in the Sky. Oh boy, was I outta shape and by the end, damn near outta gas as I plowed my way through the story of Cinderbaby and all her kin. I wasn't a hundred percent happy with the result and if you look at the tape, it ran a too long 14 and a half minutes. I also looked like a bloated hungover bus boy at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville Bar and Grille.Once again, I felt handicapped by the space I was given, restricting my movements and quite frankly, I should have edited the piece. No one but me really gave two hoots in Hell if I told the whole damn story. I could have cut it short and ended with a Mick Jagger send-off which would have put a sweet exclamation point on the bit. But hindsight is 60/40 so I should quit my bitchin'. It wasn't meant to be all about me This was the last telling of this tale and I'm eternally grateful I got the chance. I did put my heart and soul into Daddy Goose's swan song in the place of his birth. It was a true homecoming, if only to say goodbye once and for all.

Daddy Goose is now retired, living in an assisted living yurt somewhere in Humboldt County, but his legend may continue. I may still do something with the character, perhaps an adaptation of Cinderbaby in some form or another. It would need an overhaul since much of the material is mired in 1980s culture. And the Fairy Godfather could use a makeover as well, not in the name of political correctness rather for the sake of evolution.

What can I say, Daddy? Not to get all Brokeback, but I just can't seem to quit you. Over the years, you've been good to me and I want to give you the respect you deserve with this overdue tribute at long last.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy Goose!

And to all of you fathers out there,

Peace, love, rock n' roll

MORE TALES FROM THE VILLE RIGHT CHER

Dedications

Writing a book dedication is like a final punctuation, a kiss goodbye to send your tome on its merry way. But more importantly, it's a big piece of your heart that you've given to certain individuals that is forever embedded in your work.

My first book, IN THE DARK, was dedicated to my wife.
To Laurie, my honey
Wanna see a movie?
She was my constant movie companion and one of the few people on this earth I can stand to sit next to in a cinema. Laurie's not gone by any stretch of the imagination. She just stopped going to movies.

The recipients of of book numero dos, RED ASPHALT, were Don Geronimo and Mike O'Meara.
To Don and Mike
Radio Gods
Thanks for the laughs when I needed them the most.
Um, what? Yes, I chose to salute a couple of guys on the radio. RED ASPHALT was a personal book about a guy who flips out while driving for a living, a job near and dear to my butt cheeks. Back in the 90s, my psyche had going through some rough terrain while on the road every stinking day. Fortunately, I had these two jamokes to listen to and laugh my way toward sanity, then writing a book to vent my frustrations at the world.. For that, they got a much deserved thank you.

In the introduction of NOW THAT'S FUNNY, my collection of comedy sketches, I was all over the map.

I hereby dedicate this collection to Rob Petrie, King Kong, Pollardville itself, that motley crew of talented performers and excellent people known as the Palace Showboat Players and to the patron saint of comedy itself, the chicken.

What a load. The chicken didn't even call.

PLEASE HOLD THUMBS, all about my adventures in South Africa, turned out to be a story about family, therefore transforming it into something more than "What I Did on My Summer Vacation".

To my family

Past, present and future

So now we're up to date with my latest, SONG OF THE CANYON KID. I've dedicated this book to my friend, Goldie Pollard.  

I had been a cowboy in the Pollardville Ghost Town as an actor, sorta stuntman and writer and director. During that time, my friend Edward Thorpe and I wrote a melodrama for the Palace Showboat Theater called LARUE'S RETURN. I had yet to appear on that particular stage myself. When I finally did, I had helped Bob Gossett write new material for my first show DOWNFALL OF THE UPRISING. Since I was pretty hungry to add even more material to the show's vaudeville section, Goldie, as one of the producers, helped to champion my cause. The next show she co-directed with Bill Humphreys, GOODBYE TV, HELLO BURLESQUE, the two of them both asked me to write some sketches. I had written the next melodrama solo, LEGEND OF THE ROGUE, and Goldie gave me the highest honor possible. Not only would I have my name on the melodrama, but I would write and direct the olios section as well. Don't think this didn't go to my head. I was Orson fucking Welles, baby!
 
The problem was...I was in so far over my head I didn't realize I was drowning until it was too late. I was too young, too ill-prepared and too arrogant to ask for help. The show was virtually taken away from me and deservedly so.

A couple of years passed and I returned to the Palace Showboat stage, thanks to both D.W. Landingham and Ray Rustigian. I was ready to give it another shot and Goldie gave it to me. I wrote and directed three vaudeville shows in a row, a revival of LA RUE'S RETURN and a brand spanking new melodrama called SONG OF THE LONE PRAIRIE.

If it wasn't for Goldie's initial encouragement and her ability to grant me a second chance, I don't know what direction my life would have taken. I loved this woman. We lost contact after I left the Stockton area in 1999, but I am so grateful that we were able to have one last reunion at the Palace Showboat when that place closed once and for all. At that event, she addressed the crowd to say:

You all came here as actors, dancers, singers, dressers, writers and you ended up as entertainers. And you know what you are today? You are all my stars and I love you all.

No one shone brighter than she did. She was our beacon, our guiding light. For this, I have dedicated SONG OF THE CANYON KID to her.

To Goldie Pollard

For giving me my first chance, then believing in me enough to give me a second

This book is all about second chances and this is my last to say once more to my friend,

I love you, Doris June. And thank you from the bottom of my heart now and forever, 

Tales from the Ville-Hi Yo, Silver!

In honor of the debut of NOW THAT’S FUNNY! The Comedy Sketches of Scott Cherney on Amazon Kindle (on sale here), I hereby present this excerpt for your edification concerning a very pivotal time at my dearly departed Home, Sweet Home-The Palace Showboat Theater at Pollardville. It all revolves around what was my best produced piece, The Lone Ranger Rides Again. 

Nostalgia’s a funny thing. It usually puts a warm golden light on our memories to conveniently make our past a lot more significant than it really was. That really doesn’t apply in this case. It’s hard not to look back at Goodbye TV, Hello Burlesque as a pivotal moment in time for everyone and everything involved with the Palace Showboat at that point. GTV, HB, the vaudeville The Lone Ranger Rides Again was written for, set the standard for just about every show that followed it. For one thing, it represented a definite changing of the guard at the theater. Many of those who had been responsible for the development of the standard Pollardville formula decided it was time to move on. That’s when the new kids on the block moved in and with them (or us, as the case may be), a new sensibility. As a result, the bar was raised for on what this theater was capable of with just a little bit of imagination and throwing off some of the shackles of the past.

Bill Humphreys, who conceived and directed this show with Goldie Pollard, brought some of his professional experience in stage and television production to the Ville and turned the olios into a full multi-media experience combining both film and video elements with live-action for the very first time on that stage. Like moths to a flame, this show, as well as the melodrama that preceded it, Seven Wives for Dracula, a better than usual script by Tim Kelly and directed by D.W. Landingham, attracted pretty much what I would call an artists’ collective of actors, writers, musicians and, well, artists. We all congregated in a harmonious convergence in what I unashamedly refer to this as our “Renaissance period”. (Whew!) Okay, maybe some of that is nostalgia speaking again, but the truth of the matter, or the proof in the pudding, was what ended up on that stage and that end result was sensational. We all went to the next level. The music was better. The choreography was better. The makeup, the costumes, the sets-painted by an actual artist, Karen Van Dine…all better than they ever were before. And the cast matched them every step of the way. On top of all that, it was the first show to not only utilize original material but also actually encouraged the creation of such material. That’s where I came in. It all stemmed from the previous production when I helped Bob Gossett punch up the melodrama The Downfall of the Uprising or Who Do the Voodoo? with a bunch of new gags. I tried to do the same with the vaudeville, but, with one exception, was shot down every time. When GTV, HB came along, I was welcome with open arms by both Bill and Goldie, the rest being history.

Goodbye TV, Hello Burlesque traced the world of entertainment back in time from the television age through radio and ending up in the burlesque era. The Lone Ranger Rides Again obviously fit into this middle section. As far as the origin of this sketch, I honestly do not remember. It’s the only one that I’m a little hazy about how it actually began. Perhaps it had been the result of just another idea jam session. I don’t know. But, a few years ago, I caught a rerun of an old Dean Martin Show on TV Land or something. On this episode, Dean and Orson Welles were recreating a radio show. Orson read the script leaving Dean with all the sound effects. Now this must have stuck in my head because I remembered seeing this sketch as a kid. In case you’re wondering, the only thing I retained was a variation of the stairs gag, so I didn’t really steal anything.

Everything clicked on this sketch and it evolved into something even more wonderful than what existed on the page. It began with a kid listening to the radio and changing the channel as a medley of radio show themes and commercials played. When it ended up on “The William Tell Overture” (AKA The Lone Ranger Theme), the audience went nuts every single time. Then the curtain opened on that great set of a radio soundstage from the 1940s and that superb cast took my words and spun their own magic for the next ten minutes. I can say without hesitation that this was the best sketch I had written and certainly the best produced.

The cast-Bob Gossett as The Lone Ranger, Ed Thorpe as Tonto, Cory Troxclair as McGuirk, Lisa Smith as Annabelle, Paul Stolberg as Zorro (who originally came out of the bathroom in the end, a gag I never liked which is why I changed it) and Bill Humphreys as the Director all contributed to its great success each and every performance. Of course, I would be remiss if I failed to mention the real star of this bit. Jim Walsh became an absolute superstar in my eyes as the Sound Effects Engineer. His timing was immaculate and his energy non-stop. When he got to the aforementioned stair gag, he ran in place, counting down with each finger. The biggest laugh of the night. This was Jimmy’s best show all around from his performance as Renfield earlier in the Dracula melodrama to singing “Hot Patootie” (from The Rocky Horror Show and the very first rock ‘n roll number at the Ville) to just about everything he contributed to this production-on and off the stage. Small wonder why we used to call Jimmy “The Hardest Working Man in Show Business”. Never mind no James Brown.

Without a doubt in my mind, Goodbye TV, Hello Burlesque remains one of the best experiences I’ve ever encountered in this business we call show. More than that, it solidified for me that Pollardville was more than just a theater, but a way of life. It became a surrogate family not only for me, but pretty much for all of us who stayed there throughout the years: One big nurturing, often dysfunctional but ultimately supportive family.

How could we not? After all, we had a place to call Home.
And that ain’t nostalgia talkin’ neither.





Now THAT’S Funny! is available on Amazon Kindle for just 99 cents. Also available in paperback and download . For more information, head on over to http://www.scottcherney.com/ . Tell ‘em I sent you.

It's All About ME.com

I am the master of my domain..
No, not in a Seinfeld sort of way.
Perhaps I should word this differently.
I am the master of my domain name.
Finally there exists on the Internet (aka Al Gore's greatest invention before The Climate Controlatron), the one and only scottcherney.com Yes, my very own website is up, running and ready for your perusal-or whatever comes to mind as check out this bloody thing that has been too damn long in the making. I know I'm late to the party, but at least I made it before websites go the way of the dodo. And while the creation of a website is a baby step for most folks, for me it's a giant leap for Cherneykind.
The title is simple: Written by Scott Cherney. In its description, it states that it is: "The works, written or otherwise of writer/actor/raconteur Scott Cherney" I know it's self-serving, but isn't that the point? It's all true. This isn't the movie CATFISH. Am I an author? Yes I am. My books back up that dubious claim to fame. Actor? Yep. Just because I haven't trod the boards ot stepped in front of a camera for awhile doesn't mean I still don't have it in me. Raconteur? Okay, maybe this is a wee bit pretentious, but what the frig, I can spin a pretty damn good yarn, so there ya have it. Would you prefer that I call myself Scribbler/Goofball/Blowhard Scott Cherney? I could just simplify it to Bullshit Artist, but sure as shootin', someone will ask "But is it really Art?" I think I showed great restraint. Of course I'm going to put myself in the best possible light. This is all about me, man. I yam what I yam.
It all began with the word and that is why I focused on my books, scripts and anything else I've jotted down in the last little while. They're all here-RED ASPHALT, PLEASE HOLD THUMBS, IN THE DARK, SONG OF THE LONE PRAIRIE, NOW THAT'S FUNNY!-with excerpts and other pertinent information I've decided to include.
Written by Scott Cherney also coincides with the second edition of my first book (yes, you read that right) IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER. It's chock full o' updated material including something IN THE DARK V.1 didn't have: an introduction. (Yeah, I know. Duh and d'oh) IN THE DARK is also available as an e-book for the very first time with a paperback to follow very soon. For the uninitiated, IN THE DARK is what I call my movie memoir, the misadventures of a film geek who grew up watching movies at the same time the movies were growing up themselves. (Whew! I've got that line to a fine science!)
While I bitch and moan incessantly about Modern Times (not the Chaplin movie but the Here and Now) and all of its ramifications, I really am grateful to be living in this day and age, especially when it affords me the opportunity to fulfill some long-sought dreams. Now I have a showcase for all my works that I can show to the world and that means, well, the world to me. See? Even a computer illiterate, technologically ignorant, mechanically inept nincompoop like me can find his own place in the sun...even if it's in the virtual world.
Go forth to Written by Scott Cherney, please. The URL is as simple as pie: http://www.scottcherney.com/
Remember, this is a work in progress.
Just like me.
Would this face lie?

One on One with Scott Cherney (Literally)-Part One

On January 26, 2008, RED ASPHALT, the very first novel written by Scott Cherney, was published and released to the world. Some might say it escaped. (Not me)

RED ASPHALT concerns a week in the life of a troubled medical courier whose life takes a nasty sharp turn into the harshest of realities. When his marriage, job and dreams simultaneously implode, this distant runner-up in the human race suddenly feels empowered for the very first time when he becomes a nightmare on four wheels.

It's not surprising that Scott finally got around to finishing his novel. After all it has been a dream of his since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. You see, I've known Scott all of my life, so it's only fitting that I be the first to interview him on the arrival of RED ASPHALT. This may also be his ONLY interview as well, but only time will tell and as yet...he ain't talkin'.

But Scott is talkin'. I sat down with the author for this exclusive interview that you will see here only at ETC.

ETC: Welcome to Etc.

SCOTT CHERNEY: Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here.

ETC: The pleasure is all mine.

SC: I know. I just said that.

ETC: Oh. Huh?

SC: Skip it.

ETC: RED ASPHALT is your first novel, but not your first book, am I correct?

SC: Right. I have a couple of other published works under my belt. The first was what I like to call my "movie memoir", IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER, which came out in 2003.

Then there was my true travel tale PLEASE HOLD THUMBS: A NOT-SO-ROUND TRIP TO SOUTH AFRICA.

And technically, RED ASPHALT is my first completed novel. There's another unfinished "masterwork" sitting in storage as we speak that I hope to finish before I croak.

ETC: Is it true that RED ASPHALT started out as a screenplay?

SC: Yeah, it did. Just about everything I come up begins as a movie. I look at everything cinematically. Everything's a movie to me. It's just the way I'm wired. I originally conceived RED ASPHALT as a film even up to the point that I wrote a first draft screenplay. Then I said to myself, "Hey! Why not write this up in book form, finish the screenplay and that way you can make two sales instead of one." So I used the first draft as an outline and proceeded to write my own novelization. But it soon became much more than that. The evolution of this material was quite amazing. Now when I return to the screenplay, there's going to be so much more to work with. I'm really happy with the result.

ETC: Speaking of movies, the title of your book sounds vaguely familiar.

SC: Yeah. It should. I stole that baby outright from an old driving training film about road safety, probably the CITIZEN KANE of the genre. RED ASPHALT was produced by the California Highway Patrol and featured a lot of gnarly real life car crash scenes-very gory and very graphic. A real splatter film-perfect for teenagers, especially after lunch. In fact, I just found out there is an entire series of RED ASPHALT movies, I think about five in all. The latest is from 2003. I'm sure they're all over You Tube. To tell you the truth, I've never seen RED ASPHALT or any of the sequels. I did see BLOOD ON THE HIGHWAY in high school though. Anyway, I call my book RED ASPHALT as sort of an homage to those movies as well as an allusion to the traffic safety classes in the story. But it's also a better title than I ever could come up with, so there it is.

ETC: What's the story of RED ASPHALT?

SC: RED ASPHALT is about a guy named Calvin Wheeler, a dreamer who is in denial of his own reality. He feels shackled to his everyday life, a seemingly normal existence that he considers a prison. It's all because he aspires to greater things. He believes that he was put on this earth for a very special reason. Unfortunately, because he has to co-exist with the rest of the world, he thinks that his potential is being squandered and this great gift of his is slipping away from his fingers the longer he has to conform to a society that he wants nothing to do with. When he finds that is his only choice, Calvin goes all the way around the bend he had been heading for quite sometime. He's a guy who's splitting apart at the seams. Unfortunately, when he pops his last stitch, he just happens to be behind the wheel at the time because he drives for a living...and as Clint Eastwood says in THE OUTLAW JOSEY WALES, "Dyin' ain't much of a livin', boy."

ETC: So Calvin has road rage.

SC: Yeah, among other things. But RED ASPHALT is not about road rage, per se. It's not a diatribe on the subject or even what you might call "a cautionary tale". Calvin isn't meant to be an Everyman figure. This is just one man's story. That's not to say there aren't more guys like him out there in the world, let alone out there on the roads. Who knows what's really going on in the heads of everyone else who's stuck in traffic with us? We can only hope that they're in their right minds and don't do something incredibly stupid out there on the freeway or city streets or even through our neighborhoods. We all have the capability to turn our vehicles, whether they're Mini-Cooper or ten-ton semis, into goddamn guided missiles out there. The vast majority of us don't because we're not nuts. But there are a lot more crazies than there used to be. That's not just because the population has increased. I think the percentage has gone up as well.

ETC: But you don't have to be crazy to have road rage.

SC: No, you don't. And it's really not difficult to see why it's become so abundant. It's an increasingly frustrating world and it can compounded behind the wheel of a car when you're stuck in traffic, dealing with shitty drivers and torn up roads that are constantly being repaired. That's a situation we have here in Portland. This is NOT a car friendly area and it's getting worse by the day. It really wouldn't be so bad if so many people didn't take driving for granted. Like Calvin says at one point, "It doesn't cost anything to pay attention." Aren't there enough distractions both in and out of the car without creating a bunch of new ones? We have the attention spans of fleas, like those nimrods who have a cell phone in one hand, a latte in the other and a rat face dog in their laps, just weaving all over the road, driving way below the speed limit because they are so wrapped up in their conversations to give a shit. How the hell is this twit steering? With her knees? Her elbows?

ETC: Maybe that's what the dog is for.

SC: You could be right. It's like the last thing on their minds is driving. It's an after thought if it's any kind of thought at all. And, from my observation and I am on the road more the average commuter, as far as cell phone offenders go, it's mostly women. This isn't to say guys don't talk on their phones too, but women seem to be more inclined to get involved in their phone calls than men. Guys, on the other hand, make up the vast majority of road ragers. Guys flip out in their vehicles because they think they can, as if cars are the last refuge for Manly Men. It's all about the illusion of power. They use their vehicles to intimidate and bully other drivers. Their competitive natures come to the forefront and the evening commute suddenly turns into a big dick swinging contest. More often than not, gasoline and testosterone turns into piss and vinegar. Again, from my personal observation, this seems to manifest itself predominantly in white males.

ETC: You talk about the Angry White Man Syndrome in your book.

SC: I do. I've noticed the influx of Angry White Men for quite some time. They're popping up all over the place. They used to be just Stupid White Men, but now they're just plain pissed because they consider themselves endangered species. They feel threatened by the changes in the world and that they'll no longer have the dominance they believe they have. They oppose diversity whether blatantly or secretly because that means they have to share the world instead of controlling it. So they hold all this tension in because they can't just lash out whenever they feel like it. Pretty soon, they're going to blow off that steam somehow, some way and it's going to be at a most inopportune time. In the book, Calvin is deathly afraid of becoming an Angry White Man and that fear is becomes one of his biggest obstacles in preventing that from happening.

ETC: "The only thing we have to fear... is fear itself."

SC:Was that supposed to be FDR?

ETC: Yeah.

SC: Sounded more like Katherine Hepburn.

TO BE CONTINUED

NEXT UP: FANTASY V.S. REALITY: THE FINAL BATTLE

RED ASPHALT NOW ON SALE EVERYWHERE, BUT ESPECIALLY HERE AND HERE

FOR MORE INFO VISIT MY WEBSITE

WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

It's Hard Out Here For a Pimp

Just like Terrence Howard in Craig Brewer’s HUSTLE AND FLOW (a fine film by the by), it is indeed
hard out here for a pimp. In my case, I gotta hustle and flow my book, which I haven’t really done on this heah blog thang. Sure I’ve mentioned book numero uno, IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER (available from Amazon.com, et al), but as of yet, I’ve kind of neglected my second child and it’s time I took care of my own. After all, I am my baby’s daddy.

Last year through the wonderful folks at Lulu.com, I published a collection of original comedy material entitled NOW THAT’S FUNNY! These pieces are an array of sketches, gags and monologues that I wrote for the Palace Showboat Theater at Pollardville in Stockton, California during my “tenure” with that wondrous establishment lo, so many years ago. The Ville, as we called it, specialized in a stage format that was not very prevalent then and even less so now, that being a two part show consisting of an old fashioned melodrama and vaudeville show. The Ville had its own unique variation on these formulas, updating them to keep more in step with the times without losing the flavor of the originals. I wrote three melos for that stage and several comedy bits for the vaudeville end. After I left the theater, all of my stuff went into storage because I never quite knew what to do with them. Vanity kept me from shredding everything and turning it into packing material . What to do? Hence…da book I now pimp.

I took the best stuff, reworked it a bit and added some anecdotal material about life at the Ville and some the best people in the world that I was fortunate to be associated with during that period. By the way, NOW THAT’S FUNNY!, the presumptuous title of the book, is the punchline to an old vaudeville bit. It also sets me up as a target if’n y’all don’t agree. You may fire when ready…after you buy a copy.

Now all the material in NOW THAT’S FUNNY! are all available on a non-royalty basis. That means if you buy the book, you have complete permission to stage them for whatever you may choose. They are perfect for any vaudeville, variety or comedy show. Just remember that they are copyrighted and those laws state you can’t put your name on my stuff. Use them, abuse them, just give me the credit where credit is due.

Contained within the pages of NOW THAT’S FUNNY are over twenty sketches, blackouts and monologues in all, including:

2-count ‘em-2 sketches starring King Kong, the Eighth Wonder of the World:
MONKEYSHINES and KING KONG AND FRIEND
Also:
CHOCK FULL O PRUNES- The latest in FAST food
CIVILWAR 2- The sequel to the great American war only this time it’s a the battle between North and South…California
OR NOT TO BE-Boxing legend Schlomo the Slugger takes on HAMLET
IF YOU KNEW SUSHI-He cooks, he sings, he tells jokes…Why, he’s a regular Samurai Davis Jr.!
and
DADDY GOOSE-the monologue that won that won the Northern California Comedy Competition featuring the hipster fairy tale CINDERBABY
and many, many more

NOW THAT’S FUNNY! is now on sale for $12.95 in print or as a downloadable e-book for under $5. Go ahead. There aren’t any pictures and you can save yourself a couple of bucks.

“Well, that all well and good, Scott. Where can I get such a fabulous book?”

Thank you for asking.
If you got to Lulu.com
OR if you click on the title of this blog
OR go to Amazon.com
OR if you don’t feel comfortable enough to buy it over the internet, you can order at your local bookstore with this info
The title again is
NOW THAT’S FUNNY! THE COMEDY SKETCHES OF SCOTT CHERNEY

For even mo' info....GO TO MY WEBSITE SCOTT CHERNEY.COM

As I write this, preparations are being made for a big Ville reunion next year, our grand finale since Pollardville is going away, the property being sold and the whole kit ‘n kaboodle will be closed for good at the end of this year. I’ll have more to say about this as the time gets closer, but for now, let me say “Adios” to a place I called my home and has never left my thoughts or my heart. I dedicate this book to this incredible playground where I spent some of the best years of my life.

So before I get all weepy and such… BUY MY BOOK, DAMN Y’ALL! AND DO IT TODAY…OR TOMORROW…OR NEXT WEEK SOMETIME…AFTER DR. PHIL…
DO IT SO I WILL NEVER HAVE TO PIMP AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Word.