Jerusalem Yom Shishi & Erev Shabbat

Going to Jerusalem I completely indulged myself. I took a taxi. Nothing like door-to-door service to make me feel like a princess.

I’m traveling here to see my friends from Toronto. A couple that got married and two days later came to Jerusalem to study.

Arriving, something unexpected is happening. I feel a wave of emotion. Not because I'm in the "Holy Land"

It's if my soul is grounded in perfect alignment with mind and body. As if in another life I was a Jewish man. Yiddish Nefesh is the perfect expression. It means Jewish soul It is the ultimate affirmation that the path I’ve been and my as my Jewish identity has been with me my entire life.

I check into the hotel close to the old city, with only a few hours to wander around. The main attraction The Western Wall (Kotel) and simply being in the oldest urban environment I’ve ever experienced.

On my way I stop in a store. I’ve been meaning to buy a ring.

The man of Arabic background, a bit overweight, is helping me. Suddenly he asks me. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, I'm single."

"Why not??"

It's Jerusalem, not Tel Aviv, "I guess I just like it that way."

Later on in our discussion he then asks me to go for coffee. "Please, I invite you for a coffee, no business."

I respond telling that I do not have much time (which is true and I just arrived). He still keeps asking, "We go now."

"No I can't, I have a very limited time here, and I have to meet my friends in a few hours."

What is this really about? If he’d been hot, I might have gone for the coffee.

The Old City right before Erev Shabbat (Shabbat evening) is intense. The local ultra-religious are out in droves preparing. Not to mention all the tourists. Even I’m sick of them. So many tours from countries all over the world, even the odd guy dressed in what would look like a Jesuit costume from the 1500s walks by.

The market is the most incredible one I've ever seen. It is a spider-web of old very narrow streets lined with vendors as far at the can see. Soon I leave as there is nothing I want to buy, and I’m getting claustrophobic 

It is a mitzvah – duty, commandment to give to charity (tzedakah) just before Shabbat begins at sun down I give some tzedakah to a man from Chabad, a group that I know. But then ultra-orthodox men keep asking me. They use the mitzvah guilt. I’m shocked at the way they ask. It’s more like a demand. And the amount! Not a couple bucks, more like 20 to 25 dollars.

I gave twice more, but not what they were asking, 50 to 100 Shekels. My ride from the airport was 147 Shekels to put in perspective. These men are starting to feel oppressive. I start to resent them. I’m writing my journal quietly and I’m interrupted yet again.

It’s the sense of entitlement when they choose to be orthodox, have 10 kids, and then expects everyone one else to support them. Welcome to the struggles of Israel with their Haredi Jew question.

Finally I make it to the Kotal. I'm fixated to getting to the wall. Without thinking I just walk into the first entrance. A woman starts following me. I think she is asking me for money. She looks kind of grubby all dressed in grey with a grey scarf on her head. I look at her thinking, "Go away will you."

I continue, she turns into a crazy woman. Her eyes are wild and she is screaming. The image will be forever etched into my head. If you could imagine take a photo of a woman screaming just after a bomb went off, you got the picture. Suddenly I am thrust into a Time magazine "photo of the week"

"Will someone please intervene here." floats through my conscience while I’m trying to integrate all that is happening.  A "nice" English speaking woman tells me I'm entering the woman's only partition of the wall.

Fuck I feel really stupid now. However, apparently this happens more often that I thought, and I’m not the only one.

This image is from a Tel Aviv Beit Tefila, Kabbalat Shabbat on the beach

It is now time for me to get back to the hotel, shower and change for my next destination. I’m heading out to meet my friends for this musical Kabbalat Shabbat service that is very unique. Nava Tehila meets monthly and is a very cool eclectic kind of like hippy-Jews both young and old alike. There is even a nun dressed in white a brown almost looking from a medieval movie. I see a harp, several acoustic guitars, percussion, and saxophone in the inner circle of chairs.

My friend greets me as soon as I come in. “Find a seat, and we’ll join you after.”

We get started. The chanting it feels as if I’m being cleansed form the obsessions, the fears, the worries, and whatever keeps me entrapped in negativity. Slowly the large air-conditioned basement fills up with well over 100 people.

In a personal reflection moment, I think about how shy I was to enter the Jewish community, and look at me not too much later. I’m full of confidence, using Hebrew only handouts and taking it all in. It’s far cry from that day I walked into my Synagogue and talked to my Rabbi about conversion.

We then head over to my friend’s friend who kindly invited to her place for Shabbat dinner. Ruthie, in her 60s, and always looking for an adventure, I admire her. The guests were in their 20s to 60s. How refreshing.

Hours were spent chatting about everything from Rob Ford to Monty Python. Everyone is super welcoming. Here we are not strangers, just people who just need to get to know each other better. Ironically, this is the most time I’ve spent with the Toronto couple, than in Toronto.

The only problem was that there was only wine to drink. I did not think to bring a bottle of water. The host has nothing non-alcoholic and offers me water. I'm so thirsty I drink a couple small glasses in a row. Later on the penny drops, "FUCK THAT IS NOT BOTTLED WATER." 

Drinking tap water is a shitty thing to do - there's a pun in there. In the middle of the night the games began. I can only hope it's not major.

This morning the same taxi driver came and picked me up. Again I feel like a princess. What a whirlwind 24 hours.

Adventures in Storytelling, The Tel Aviv Edition

My plans for this night is to attend the StorySlam: Adventures in Food.  I figure this has to be in a restaurant or something. But, no it’s not. It is in a location where starts to feel like no-mans land as I am entering an industrial area. I am as directionally challenged as my dyslexic-like ability to spell, just to give a bit of context.

I manage to navigate my way there on foot without too many problems but still I felt so unsure of where I was going. Only once I went the wrong way and had to back track. But it still took me a long time to get there.   

The venue, as it turns out is a beer distillery called “The Dancing Camel” Approaching the door I see a sign, “Storyslam, Yes you found it, come on in.” At least I’m not the only one. Apparently they changed locations as the last month they had over 100 people. It’s the only show of this kind in English.

Just around the bar is a friendly woman with short brown hair sitting on a story, “Are you here  for the storyslam?” It turns out she has family in Toronto. When I give her my card for my (and Erin Rodgers) show Tales of…. She says, “Oh Bloor Street, great location”. Her name is Xoli, and I’m sure to fuck this one up. You know me and names.

Coming back I’m asked if I wanted to tell a story. I wasn’t expecting this. The theme is food. Do I tell a story or not. If I don’t I’ll be pissed off at myself afterward. I put my name down on a piece of paper and throw it in a bucket.

Soon all the organizers knew there was a guy from Toronto with a storytelling show. I feel special, yet pressure now. I better be fucking good after the buzz that is happening now

The host for the evening produces the show has a TV show on a local Israeli station about restaurants. He says it’s similar to what English TV does, which I’m not sure what that is. He is super nice.

Despite me getting lost I’m still really early. Outside I’m chatting with ex-pats from all over. I feel a sense of camaraderie of the ex-pats and performing community. One Persian-American woman from LA and super outgoing tells me she is friends with one of the guys on the reality show “The Shahs of Sunset.” She pulls out her phone and shows me a photo. I’m now in love with her!

A couple other people just out of the blue introduce themselves. How un-Toronto. Compare and contrast.

  The original woman I meet, and her husband own a very well known café called XoHo, based on putting letters from both their names together, now have multiple initiations from them and others who work there to come down and visit.

Prior to the show, they have a musical act playing mostly bluegrass kind of blues complete with Harmonica and violin. They are amazing, and a bit Hipster looking. Voilà, I finally found some. I knew there are here somewhere. But Hipster-Jew with a tzitzit, attached to his guitar belt (this is the fringe that is found on a prayer shawl).

Suddenly I realize, these are the guys I had been listening on YouTube performing “The Roommate Song” at a different venue. Wow, I’m amazed at how this is coming together.

Sitting on a stool I realize that there is an orthodox Jew sitting behind me complete in a black hat. “Ok this should be interesting” as I project all my pre-judgments on him.

It turns out he is Yisrael Campbell, the very one who is a successful comic, actor and has the acclaimed one-man show called “Circumsize Me” that 

.played in Toronto. More and more I’m realizing I’m participating in something really special

When it comes to Storytelling show time, I know what story I will tell. It is about the time I made pot brownies and had to go to the hospital with a   cold-induced asthma attack and ate the brownies.

When it comes to loto spots, I either never get them, or I’m last when there is no longer and audience. He picks a piece of paper and reads it, “Our first storyteller of the evening is Brian Finch.” “Fuck” is going through my head, as I’m nervous. This is the first time performing in a different country.

I tell my story, and I kill. I don’t say that often. If I sucked, I’d say so.

After the show, the all the producers tell me how much they enjoyed the story and how great that I was the first one up to start the show. Again, Wow! I was scared, and I get this wonderful warm reaction.

Now I’m invited to future musical events at this venue.

It’s official I have fallen in love with Tel Aviv.

Another month of firsts

I’ve had a lot of fun firsts over the last couple of weeks. First I got to have my first spot as first on in the show. It was a painful event, but I did get to meet some great people.

The following week I did a mini-marathon of sets. I did my first spot in Kensington Market, The Flying Beaver (not sure about asking the lesbians if they’ve ever thought about doing porn??) Also that week, I got an open mic spot on Catherine McCormick’s show at No one writes to the Colonel.

As it turns out, talking about my dearly departed condom eating dog, Joe, has turned out to be a success and the last half of my most recent set.

Last Sunday at Caplansky’s Delicatessen I performed at my first story telling show. At first I was going to talk about my Jewish conversion (It’s almost complete…. thank Christ, I can still say that for a few more days), but then decided not to.  Instead I broke out my story about getting in to stand-up, as it is a story with a lot of moving parts to it.

I started in how I thought I was “gay heckled” and I could see concerned faces as the audience seemed as if I was going to tell them about someone being homophobic guy. Instead I explained that I had worked for a certain make up company, and an audience member at that show yelled out a name of lipstick that said company produces.

I stand firm on my view that when a gay guy is performing and someone yells out the names of make up at you, then my friend you have just been gay heckled.

Comedic storytelling is great! It’s what I do. For me it’s like stand-up without the pressure. I can't wait to do more if it.

More firsts still on agenda, soon Pride will here, and I’ll be doing a set at the new Laugh at Slacks open mic for GLBT/women comics ever Wednesday nights starting at 8 pm. June 13th is the first night, and is produced by the never tiring Catherine McCormick.

July 4th, I’ll be hosting my first show at Laugh at Slacks.

Next Post: How I managed to Creep Out my Improve Class.

Sometimes it's not pretty

Last week, I headed up for an open mic. Prior I had to amazing killer sets back to back and I suppose I got over confident. Instead of taking the material that I know works well and adding a bit here and there new, I tried to go 30% old and 70% new.

What wrong approach that was. The reason the bits that kill do well is because I’ve had the opportunity in Hamilton to do a number of sets and work them out. Coming up cold at this venue with all this new stuff was just not finding its groove. The lights were shining in my eyes and I couldn’t see anyone, and the audience was very non-responsive (not just with me but almost all the comics). Nonetheless, it was the antithesis of the week prior. 

The other part is that in Toronto, the edgy stuff is what works for me. I know I have to come up with clean material. But to be myself, is to be “out there” with crazy material. Perhaps the rest will come in time. But I got to go where my heart is with the humour, and that means either dirty or dark. That’s me folks.

The fact I couldn’t see anyone, and the quiet I got all freaked out. Why aren’t they laughing crazy like the week before? I could feel my voice cranking up higher, and the exact opposite of the theory of improv (say yes to everything) I shut down saying “No!!!!” and then it was a matter of just getting through it.

On the upside the first part of the set was working, I had them laughing.  

In the meanwhile, I signed up for improv. Besides being a very fun night out, it’s great help training the mind to not be in the mode of over thinking everything, such as preparing for a set, and being in the moment and freeing the voice that holds ourselves back saying, “no …..”

They say if you get thrown off, get right back on. This week I have three sets lined up. Ironically, I was feeling frustrated as to how the hell am I going to get a set in Toronto with so many comics that I ended up three places, including The Flying Beaver.

Needless to say is that I feel anxious to pull off another good set. So let's break a leg tonight. 

From Becoming Jewish to Woody's - Two great back-to-back nights

This last week so far has been pretty awesome! Last Monday I went to check out a room, meet the host and all that good stuff. I was not expecting nor prepared to do a set when the host asked me if I wanted to go on. I really wanted to say no, but that’s not how one get’s anywhere, so I said yes and thank you.

This particular venue works differently than the others which I’ve checked . Bring two friends and you get a spot, no booking in advanced. It’s a great way to do it. I came down alone, as I wrote, I simply wanted to see some comics and network a bit.

Fortunately for me, there were a few jokes that the host and some other comics had done that I could work off of to open. Opening is always the hardest part for me. It feels like the make or break moment.

I had to pull out my standard stuff, but worked into telling the story of my first gay crowd (that I mooned, yes that's right, but it seemed like poetic justice as I say it's the place where self-esteem goes to die) at Woody’s. This was my open mic to test out my open mic new material for the next night in Hamilton.

When I was done the host shook my hand and said he had enjoyed my set. This is when my Sally Field syndrome kicks in. I walked home stoked that I threw myself into an unscripted moment and come out the other end of it quite well.

The next day I headed over to Hamilton to my friend’s room. It’s great there as there a lot of the Hamilton comics, some of them long timers who headline, and have appeared many times on Just For Laughs. They are so down to earth, and give a lot of great feedback.

My set went really well.  I worked in my conversion to Judaism. Really, it's a testament to how dedicated I am to becoming a comic, and how attracted to Jewish men I am. I figure I'll get my ducks in a row, meet a nice Jewish boy and the conversion will all be done. And my favourite performers are Jewish, so I thought that would help me out as well. So if I seem funny after June 6 (my conversion date), you'll know why. My bit is about how it's so difficult from using "Oh for Christ's sake, and thank Christ" as a converting Jew. I'm sure Jews by birth don't go around stubbing their toes only to yell out "Jesus Christ!" I'm guest guessing they don't do that. And I accidentally said, "Thank fucking Christ." Everyone laughs at me and my slip up. "It's ok, folks I have until June 6th!" - my conversion date.

I find working off of one’s own experiences and story works the best for me. The Woody’s story was a hit, and I made my official proclamation, “I’m putting a moratorium on bending over in front of crowds.” I know it will be challenge, but I'm abstaining for at least a couple months. 

Being new, I’ll admit it, external validation is great to have. Being around great comics and being new, I have a lot of negative self-talk go on. After I had done my set one comic came up to me and shook my hand saying, “So funny, I’m sorry I haven’t listened to you before, but good stuff.” I got a couple invites to other rooms etc. I felt like I had been funny enough times now that I’ve earned my stripes to say I’m a comic, albeit a very new one, but a comic nonetheless.

The fucked up thing is that I get so nervous, and repeatedly I’m told that I appear very comfortable on stage. Somehow people can’t see the inner turmoil of pre-stage angst. Before starting this, I had no idea that my years of public speaking, media and corporate training experience would help out this much. Now if I could just get my insides to match the outside. 

Being new I feel like I'm just a small pebble on the beach compared to all there is to know and grow. At least this kind of schooling is fun!

As the one host said when I did my first real first set in Toronto as a dare for the Stephen Lewis Foundation, “You’re very natural, and that’s 50% of it right there.”

So true very true.

Cat N'Fiddle Coming up.

I’m back in Hamilton for the final night at the Cat N’ Fiddle’s open mic for this season as summer approaches.

It’s been a great place to get to know other comics and work out new comic kinks, which I’m sure will be a never ending process. I have several friends out in Hamilton who are comics, one of which has a room. The comedy community is smaller and much more accessible. And, coming from Toronto, I always find it very cool when actual strangers talk to me!

In Hamilton, I pushed myself to be “out there” by talking about my having done porn and my stint as an escort. It’s an easy salacious place to grab people’s attention and stand out. I’m still constantly shocking my mother at the age of 46, so it’s safe to say I have lot’s to draw upon for comedy. My latest mom shock was disclosing that I’m becoming Jewish (rich material there).

I may be new to comedy, but I’m not new to life. Now a former AIDS advocate, I’ve been featured (along with a couple other people) in a documentary, done tons of media work and public speaking, even worked as a corporate trainer, travelled extensively. Who knew a lot of this was great training for stand-up.

After my second set at Spirits as the fundraising dare (which killed by the way, it was more than I could have ever dreamed of as I was quite terrified to do it). When I went to a different Toronto room hosted by the same person as Spirits I totally geeked out, meaning neurotic and shy. “I can’t go up and say hi, she’s talking with the comics, I can’t interrupt. I’ve only done two sets, I don’t want to be a really needy overzealous wanna be comic.  I was completely intimidated. The really shy quiet kid in me comes out at the worst of time. 

Being in Hamilton helped me overcome some of that initial, “Ahhh what am I doing here??”

Since my gay gig at Woody’s (which ended with me mooning the crowd while taking off my bathing suit to auction off…..It’s a much longer post for another time) I’m starting to feel more confident. 

I will be though declaring a moratorium on bending over in front of crowds again in Hamilton tomorrow night.

Now I have set my sights on the Toronto scene, and I feel that geeky side coming out again. 

To counter that I’m attending as many open mics I can to get to know the rooms and start networking. When I watch comics performing, I remember that I've been on plenty of stages and I can do this. 

My First TIme

This is my first post on this obnoxiously orange Blogger template. It's just the thing you want to see when you have a hangover.

I have an extensive background in public speaking, and thank god for that. However it's a muscle I haven't used in a very long time. But handy for at least getting over the first hurdle in comedy: getting on stage. That is not to say that there is a lot to learn as this journey has only begun.

It all started with an email from the communications person from the Stephen Lewis Foundation I know. She asked if I might publicize their fundraising campaign, The Dare Campaign.  You get dared to do something and on that dare money is raised.

In this case I had to come up with my own, and as it turned out quickly. An acquaintance from The Toronto Sun, I know, great journalistic stuff. He wanted to do a full page interview on the dare I was going to do. The catch is that I didn't know what I wanted to do. If I was really going to do this, I had to do it.

My choices I gave myself were either doing stand up or jumping out of a plain. First I'm scared to death of heights, and to frank, if I'm going to shit myself I'm doing to do it with my feet firmly set on terra firma. Plus it costs close to 300 bucks. I know I'm a great humanitarian for raising money, but I'm not going to spend my own to do it.

Very quickly, and all thanks to the wonderful host of Spirits Open Mic (as well as Eton Place) who within a few moments of messaging on Facebook booked me a spot of my choosing for the next month. For anyone who know's Spirits, it takes a couple months to get booked.

My stomach sank. This was real now. Just like with porn, (something I'd watch, but wonder what it's like to do, and could never see myself doing it, and then flew off to San Fran to shot a pro film) I found myself in the same position, just this time I get to keep my clothes. I think everyone is thankful for that, as a former exhibitionist, I like to stay dressed, whenever possible.

That is the backdrop. The very first night I had no idea that the venue's owner wanted more clean humour and was getting pissed off with the comics. The comics all met before the show and decided they were going to try to kill the show. I had no idea of any of this back story.

When I get up on stage, the ultimate fear happened: mind going blank. I grabbed the mic and explained I had done a lot of public speaking and never was able to swear on a mic. Then I just started laying it out from shit to cunt. It was rather cathartic after all those years of having to repress what I wanted to say. The more I went on, the more I had the crowd.

First time up, and hell why not, let's talk about doing gay porn. The funny bit is that I have to explain what kind of porn I did, it's just understood.  The punch line, "It's just like doing straight porn except half the cast faces the other way." went over quite well.

I was so nervous about that. Talking about doing gay porn to a very straight Hamilton crowd. They turned out to be very very cool and a lot of fun.

The night finished with one of the comics telling a very annoying heckling couple interrupting all night to go fuck themselves resulting in the owner running up and cutting off the mic with the declaration: THE SHOW IS OVER.

And that was my first night. I had them laughing, and I became officially addicted.