Magic Box of Stories: THE JEFF LEE EDITION

Hello everyone -

As many of you know, I've spent the year taking the stage at the UCB Theater and telling true stories from my life. My mom co-stars in the show with me and mocks my adventures via the magic of video.

This Friday at 11 PM I'll be reprising the show, telling a great batch of embarrassing and fucked up stories from my life. But this is a very special show, as I'll be joined not by my mom on video, but my friend Jeff Lee live in person.

Jeff and I have been friends for over a decade. I lived with him for a big chunk of college and I can think of few human beings who have seen me while at my most depressed and crazy phase of life. His insights into these stories will probably make you laugh and make me really sad, as it will be an illuminating look at how I lived and behaved back in those days. Also, I'm going to try and get him drunk, so his comments should be completely uncensored.

I really hope you can make it. The show is this Friday, 11 PM, at the UCB Theater. You can make reservations at www.ucbtheater.com or by calling 212-366-9176.

Whoever it was...

... has contributed one other thing to Wikipedia, and it was a non-comedic contribution about a bus crash in Bulgaria. Fascinating.

To whomever...

... has taken it upon themselves to fuck with my wikipedia page, adding things such as:

"He is currently working on a text entitled Rapacious But Not Yet Smelling, based on his own childhood experiences as a newspaper delivery boy who had no sweat glands."

and

"Gethard is a graduate of Rutgers University and a big fan of darts superstar Peter Manley."

... you are hilarious and I hope you continue.

I wish I knew who it was.

Perhaps the greatest video of all time?

Sometimes you meet people in the comedy scene and just hit it off right away, but it's rare. That happened with me and my friend Joe Mande. Sometimes I'm like "I wonder why Joe and I clicked so quick."

Then I see him make something like this and I realize exactly why.

I only need one more signature tattoo in my life

I'M COMING FOR YOU, BECKY BUCKWILD.

I walked a pace behind him at the soundcheck, he was just the same as I am!

... is paraphrase of a lyric in one of my favorite songs by the Smiths. Now, I assume if you are on this blog, you know I'm a fan of Morrissey, if only because of the name of the blog. I won't get too melodramatic about it, but Morrissey is literally the artist that I hold closest to my heart. Not only is his music amazing in my eyes, but the principles he puts out in that music have influenced me greatly as both a person and a performer. Morrissey's music has at some of the worst times in my life been the last crutch that I have been able to lean on. I even stole the guy's haircut, for Christ's sake.

Anyway, last night Moz played the Jimmy Fallon show. I have some friends who work there so I called in (begged?) a favor and got tickets to the show. I was hoping to hang out backstage to meet Moz, but wound up sitting in the seats. At a certain point, I was like, "Oh well, guess today ain't the day I meet the man."

Then at the end of the show, my friend grabbed and was like "You can leave through the V-VIP exit in the hallway," and me and my buddy Nick Mougis ran out there.

Nick and I are both huge Morrissey fans. I've been friends with Nick for like nine years now, but our bond became something really special when we drove from LA to NYC together in 2004. We were talking about it yesterday and we listened to Morrissey's solo album "You Are the Quarry" at least fifteen times in its entirety during the trip. Now we have this sort of unspoken unbreakable spirit that comes from such an experience.

Anyway, I'm standing there getting all nervous, wondering if Morrissey left before I got a chance to meet him. But then I see his guitarist, Boz Boorer, walk down the hallway. Then his other band members joined Boz and this growing entourage and I realized that even though he wasn't in view yet, "Holy shit, Morrissey is right there."

After a few moments, he comes around the corner. For some odd reason, I had chosen to lean against one wall by myself while literally everyone else was against the wall across from me. So this means that Moz's whole posse gets on the other side of him to block him from dozens of people - and he's literally going to pass four inches from me. Like, he is about to bump into me in the crowded hallway.

As he passes, I quietly lean over and say "Morrissey?"

He stops and turns.

"I'm a huge fan," I continue. "Would you mind signing my arm?"

I hand him the opened Sharpie I had ready just for this opportunity.

"Of course," he says, all gentle and quiet and shy, in other words, Morrissey-ish.

He starts to draw his name on my arm, really concentrating and taking his time.

"Your songs have had a really profound effect on me," I tell him. "I can't thank you enough."

"Hard to believe," he says. I grin. (Later, Fran points out to me - Did he mean hard to believe that they've had an effect on me? Or hard to believe that I can't thank him enough? Oh, Morrissey, you fucking wordsmith. I'm amazed you are that good in person.)

"Believe it or not, it's true," I say, smiling at him. He smiles back and hands me my pen.

I stand there shaking, and Nick and his buddy Chris who works on the show are across the hall, grinning at me. Nick's taking pictures on his iphone.

"I have to get that tattooed on my body, right?" I say.

Then Chris says the best thing ever to me.

"Well, your only other option is to not get it tattooed on your body, and you're not doing that."

And that is how last night I came to get Morrissey's child-like signature permanently drawn on to my right shoulder.

The Bus Tour

I keep meaning to write something here about the Bus Tour. Either I'm still processing it, or I'm lazy. You decide. Some thoughts:

1. I can't believe we pulled that off. From the inception of the idea to the execution things moved pretty fast. That Purnell is really something else.

2. It hit a certain point where I realized that I was consistently standing in a room with 54 other people who were experiencing something completely different than what I was. I don't think that's ever happened to me before. This feeling was most pronounced while I was standing in the basement of my childhood home looking at dozens of other faces that had no connection with the place. I am amazed at how much smaller my house is than I remember it.

3. I drove down to Rutgers for the two weekends before the trip to organize things. I am still surprised at how walking around New Brunswick makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

During the tour, I was laughing when I overheard two of the guys on the trip talking about all the random garbage they saw on peoples' front lawns. After the tour, I was delighted to see someone post a picture of the house I lived in sophomore year. Their comment delighted me. It was along the lines of "I am ashamed to say that during Gethard's stories of how depressing Rutgers was I assumed he was exaggerating. This was the point when I realized he wasn't at all."

During one of my planning walks, I was amazed to stand on the steps of Brower Commons (the Rutgers dining hall) and hear this conversation between two Asian girls walking past me:

Asian Girl 1: Solemnly shakes her head.
Asian Girl 2: "I really just can't spend any more fucking time feeling like I don't even exist."

I had only been back on campus for fifteen minutes.

4. I don't know why this hit me, as I generally try to avoid schmaltziness, but I started to wonder why people wanted to be there at all. Some for the joke, some to be able to say they went. But then I got to wondering if there were people there for anything that cut deeper than that. I'm still not sure. But I specifically started to think about how many of the people coming were younger than me, and in fact the same age I was when the bulk of my stories took place. It became important in my mind for me to offer up this experience specifically for these guys, because if any of them feel like I felt at that age, I wanted them to be able to see firsthand what I experienced and that I turned out ok. I know that is incredibly melodramatic, but it's true. Don't know if that was even on anyone else's mind, but it became a motivator for me.

Mostly, I just wanted everyone to laugh and have a good time, and eat disgusting food. Mission definitely accomplished on the food front.

I am in the planning stages for the next one. I think I'll switch a few things up, but I'm aiming for summer.

Just to keep harping on it...

Holy shit there is fucking video of it.

I was just reading about the show on Morrisey-solo.com and saw someone saying they posted a video that only had one stage invader on it, "the one in the green shirt". Then I said to myself "no fucking way" and clicked on it then said "NO FUCKING WAY".



I run away like a mutant!

A Dream Fulfilled

Last night Fran and I went to see Morrissey in Montclair, New Jersey, around the block from my old apartment. We met our friends Nick Mougis and Matt Pack out there and headed to the venue. We'd been joking the whole time about how we had to get on stage (it's a tradition at Morrissey shows that people jump on stage and try to hug Moz.)

When we got to the venue, we saw that it was both small and full of lots of middle aged people, many of them housewives. This looked good, as it meant we would be able to push to the front pretty easily, which we did.

During the encore (First of the Gang to Die), Pack and I separated from the others and wound up way up front. We were chagrined to see the barrier was chest high, and the corral between it and the stage was four feet wide. I turned to Pack and said "Looks like we're gonna have to start throwing people."

He went to grab me. I said "Not me. Not yet." We grabbed the guy next to us and threw him over the barricade. Security descended on him.

Then Pack grabbed me. Mark, a kid I've known for a long time who's come to a ton of UCB shows, appeared out of nowhere and helped hoist me up. I crouched to time it, and as Morrissey turned back in my direction, I leapt and they launched me. It was the perfect throw. The crowd helped coast me up front and as my body reached the front of the stage, probably the best thing that will ever happen in my life happened.

Morrissey reached out and grabbed my hand. I held on for dear life and looked him dead in the eye and shouted "I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

Then security dragged me down and I ran away to enjoy the rest of the concert from the back.

Looks like I have to upgrade my Morrissey goal: Get him to sign my bicep so I can have his signature tattooed on to my body.

CHRIS GETHARD'S MAGIC BUS OF STORIES: HOW TO FOLLOW ALONG

Tomorrow I am going to take 54 friends, acquaintances, and strangers on a bus and we are going to drive around New Jersey visiting different sites from my life. We will hit up New Brunswick, West Orange, and a few other special places.

If you didn't snag a ticket on the bus, or you didn't want to, but you'd still like to see how things are going out there, please follow along. We will be posting updates via the following mediums:

http://www.twitter.com/gethsmagicbus (myself and my producer Justin Purnell will add to this one)

We will also run a group blog at http://magicbus.keepitfun.biz . This will be updated by all 55 people on the bus. It will also include all the twitters if you just want to follow one.

I hope that even those of us not on the bus can enjoy the magic bus!

GETH'S MAGIC BUS TWITTER

GETH'S MAGIC BOX TUMBLR