I felt cautiously optimistic until my friend pointed out – with some degree of pleasure, I thought – that no matter how scrubbed down the room was, how many masks were in evidence or social distance maintained, if such was even possible in a hotel setting, our safety was still not guaranteed. I couldn’t disagree.

Still, my husband and I planned to adhere to all precautions – and the Harbor Hotel Collection providing our accommodations promised to do the same – which they did admirably. After months of quarantine, we decided to face the virus with a defiant stance. We were going to go on living – and for us, that meant traveling. A road trip from Washington, DC seemed like a perfect compromise.

First stop – Chautauqua, New York, where comedy is king – and one special queen… (The two museums are actually in Jamestown, NY, a small town adjacent to Chautauqua).

How many places do you walk into laughing? Flashes of comedic movies, TV shows and stand-ups assault your inner comedian as you enter the National Comedy Center and you feel one with a larger-than-life Rodney Dangerfield. Then a sign comes on reminding you to wash your hands – and you stop laughing – but just for a moment. Instead of the pre-Covid wristband, you get a card that provides interactive capability during the virus and a stylus allowing you to touch screens.  And you allow yourself to start laughing again.

The National Comedy Center began as a long-ago vision of the legendary Lucille Ball, the afore-mentioned queen of comedy – a home-grown Jamestown girl, born, bred and buried – for her hometown to become a destination for the celebration of comedy. Still, it didn’t actually open until 2018. Her own much-older museum is just down the street – but more on that later.

First, I had to personalize my comedy experience by picking my favorite comedians, TV shows and films from Cary Grant to Stephen Colbert, All in the Family to Modern Family, The Marx Brothers to Bridesmaids. They lost me at podcasts but turns out my humor runs toward political satire, wry and sophisticated, and observational. My husband took issue with the sophisticated designation….

The museum emphasizes comedy as an art form and illustrates everything that goes into the craft of comedy from inception to production to execution. A sample of Dangerfield’s handwritten notes has him admonishing the audience: “What a crowd! What a crowd!” I didn’t want to know that. Joan Rivers had her own preparation notes: 17 Ways to Handle a Heckler. Okay, so no taking any chances there. Lots of iconic outfits dot the museum from Jerry Seinfeld’s Puffy Shirt to Phyllis Diller’s huge ball gown to Carol Burnett’s wacky characters’ fashion statements.

One exhibit is devoted to all things George Carlin; another to late night hosts from Steve Allen to Seth Myers; another to When Harry Met Sally with two of the most memorable movie scenes ever.

At the stand-up comedy lounge, I got to sit in to view some of my favorite comedians from my initial sense-of-humor profile. I actually looked around for a bartender to take my drink order. A different lounge presented clips from my favorite TV shows.

Passing from one exhibit to another takes you down a hallway of one-liners. At this point you just can’t stop laughing and you may never make it to the end. There’s an academic exhibit which chronicles the history of comedy from the Greeks to vaudeville to the internet. Lest you find that a tad too serious, when you sit on the adjoining bench, what do you think happens? Yes, of course. The bench farts!

There are scripts where inadvertent changes that were made during shooting remained on camera; there is the history of radio from Jack Benny to Howard Stern; and then there is the age-restricted raunchy “Blue Room” for the likes of Lenny Bruce to Wanda Sykes. Everything tells a story of how a joke goes from page to stage, the long grind from comedic inception to commercial success. And it’s all funny!

I, like millions of Americans throughout the 50s, laughed with and at Lucy and Desi Ricardo growing up. The I Love Lucy Show was must-see TV. I liked her – I didn’t love her – but her iconic show no doubt laid the foundation for situation comedies for decades to come. Having a museum of her own in her hometown seemed like a fitting testament.

The Lucy and Desi Museum down the street, while special in its own right, is static by comparison to the Comedy Center. Most of the visuals are behind glass enclosures and I kept looking for something to scan. The West Gallery is devoted to Lucy and Desi, their relationship, their family; the East Gallery, to their studio and show, with replicas of all the rooms of the Ricardo’s second apartment. Any fan would feel transported back in time and onto the TV set.

For a Lucille Ball fan, this would be a tiny bit of heaven. Since I was more socially distanced (in every sense of the word), I just was sorry to read that Lucy and Desi got divorced the day after the last show aired in 1961. After four hours steeped in laughter, I left feeling sad. That just seemed wrong, so I headed back to the Comedy Center. Problem solved.

Traveling on to Watkins Glen and the 1000 Islands as part of the Empire State Road Trip will be covered in future articles. For more information call (607) 535-3759 or check out the following sites:

Empire State Road Trip, Harbor Hotel Collection

National Comedy Center

Lucille Ball Desi Arnaz Museum

The post Chautauqua, New York: A Cornerstone of Comedy appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Mass Hysteria

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.  and Art of Sierra Madre, CA, for sharing this joke.

Video: Silly Shooting Practice

Thanks to Maling of Caloocan City, Philippines
This is so stupid it’s funny.

Video: Selfish Woman

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.
Nice British accent telling a short joke.

Tom’s Puns

Thanks to Tom of Pasadena, CA who sent these puns.

Parting Shots

Thanks to Mel of Washington, D.C.

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.

Thanks to Thanks to Mike of New York

Thanks to Naomi of N Hollywood, CA

The post Sunday Clothes appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Old Friends

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Cheryl of Arcadia, CA for sharing this joke.

Video: Dance Time

Thanks to Nani of the City of San Juan, Philippines
Clever young ventriloquist with a voice that is out of this world.

Don’s Puns

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C. who sent this pun.

Parting Shots

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C.

One more from Don

Thanks to Art of Sierra Madre, CA

Thanks to Peter Paul of South Pasadena, CA

The post Airhead Flies to Miami appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The Mischief Theatre production of The Play That Goes Wrong, written by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer, and Henry Shields, could be subtitled Laurel & Hardy meet the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges with a sprinkling of the comic antics of Max Sennett and Charlie Chaplin, who before “talkies,” entertained film-going audiences with his hilarious slapstick routines.

Incorporating various elements of physical and visual comedy, the madcap antics  begin as the audience is taking its seats.   Stagehands are checking props and set pieces in anticipation of the opening night of, The Murder at Haversham Manor, presented by The Cornley University Drama Society.  The plot centers on a murder that has taken place on the eve of the engagement of Florence Colleymoore (Jamie Ann Romero) to Charles Haversham (Yaegel T. Welch).   The lighting and sound operator, wonderfully played by Brandon J. Ellis, is trying to close a door which, despite many attempts, simply won’t stay closed.  A great example of building on a comedic action, it stays closed for a second or two and then reopens.  Another visual gag centers around a piece of wood one of the actors is trying to attach as a mantle but it keeps falling off.  The same actor is attempting to find a way to keep the door closed while at the same time holding up the mantle piece.  He accomplishes this through the use of various limbs.  The stage manager, Annie (Angela Grovey), comes to the rescue of the malfunctioning props wielding a giant role of masking tape, which she uses to secure the mantle.

More slapstick antics ensue and remember all this is taking place before the actual play begins.  Later on, when the grieving fiancée has a fainting spell, Annie steps in and reads her lines from the script.  Subsequently, because she’s enjoying “acting,” she gets into a physical confrontation with the actress playing Colleymore, who is dragged off stage through a pane-less window by the other actors.

With set pieces seemingly under control, and before the action actually begins, a speech is given to the audience by the director – not the brilliant original Broadway director Mark Bell or the National Tour Director Matt DiCarlo, but the play within the play director, characterized by talented Evan Alexander Smith, who also plays Inspector Carter.  Confused?  That’s ok.  It is confusing, but laughter abounds every step of the way. He addresses the audience thanking them for their patience and apologizes for the mix-up to those people thinking apologizes they bought tickets to a performance of Hamilton.  He gives some background on the 1920 mystery thriller and the action finally begins with the dead body of murdered Charles stretched out on the sofa.  However, it’s hard for him to stay dead and every once in a while he moves a different part of his body.

Inspector Carter arrives and tries to hang up his coat, but there is no hook and his coat falls to the floor, which he ignores.  This is just one of the myriad sight gags that will keep you laughing.  Another comedic element is the split “bad timing” on some of the dialogue where the reaction comes before the actual line.  For example, but not necessarily in the play, someone says, “God bless you” before the sneeze.  An actual example is when bad-tasting whiskey is poured and the actors spit it out with the line “That’s the best whiskey I’ve ever had.” These miss-timed or contradictory lines permeate the entire play resulting in the audience trying to catch its collective breath as these moments appear at an accelerated rate.  At one point, the inspector is late on his entrance so the rest of the cast freezes in place until he finally appears and delivers his line.  The audience even got into the act.  One of the characters is looking for something and someone yells, “Look under the chair!”

In the genre of farce or slapstick, the brilliantly designed “non-functional” set by Nigel Hook is absolutely spot on as just when you thought nothing else could malfunction, something does.  Another comical moment is when the inspector, along with Cecil Haversham, (Ned Noyes) brother of the deceased Charles, attempt to remove the body from the parlor sofa.   As the not really dead body is laid on top of a stretcher, it collapses leaving a gaping hole where the canvas should be but, ignoring that mishap, they carry out an empty stretcher.  The actor playing Charles (Yaegel T. Welch) knows he shouldn’t still be on stage and slowly, ever so slowly, crawls off and despite being “dead,” turns up unexpectedly from time to time throughout the play where he is reminded by another cast member that he’s supposed to be dead.  I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Perkins the butler, who constantly screws up his lines and misses cues.  This delightful character is wonderfully played by Scott Cote.   With his almost operatic, beautiful bass booming voice, the most imposing Peyton Crim plays Florence’s brother Thomas Colleymoore.  He is a master of visual comedy and perched high above the stage, uses just about every part of his body from head to toe to keep the set pieces from falling to the floor below.  Despite one technical snafu after another, all of which are ignored by the actors, Inspector Carter finally solves the crime.  This is not a spoiler, but think Charles’ brother Cecil and the heart broken fiancée, Florence.  I hope this is not TMI.

Contributing to the awesome technical elements of this production are Ric Mountjoy’s excellent lighting design, Roberto Surace’s costumes, Andrew Johnson’s sound design and Rob Falconer’s pre-set original “goofy” or “silly” music, which set the tone on what silliness lay ahead.

“The Play That Went Wrong”

Ahmanson Theatre
135 N. Grand Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90012

Run: Tuesday – Friday:  8:00 pm
Saturday:    2:00 pm & 8:00 pm
Sunday:       1:00 pm & 6:30 pm

Tickets: $30 – $135
(ticket prices are subject to change)

Closing: Sunday, August 11, 2019 – 1:00 pm

Reservations:  (213) 972-4400 or www.CenterTheatreGroup.org
Groups: (213) 972-7231.
Deaf community: CenterTheatreGroup.org/ACCESS

The post The Hilarious “The Play That Goes Wrong” Entertains at the Ahmanson Theatre appeared first on Traveling Archive.

I’ve had it with auto mechanics. What is it with these guys? Every single one I know has a nagging wife, who forces the husbands to seek refuge in their cave garages. There they are kings of their little domains where only their customers appreciate and understand them.

The last mechanic I went to caused my engine to fry.  That car still sits in my garage waiting for my fairy godmother to appear.

Recently, my other car was making strange sounds every time my car was in motion. I know a thing or two about cars and it was rather obvious to me that it was probably the brakes. I’ve been to a few established shops and they always charge a small fortune to support the air conditioned waiting room ambiance. I’m okay with sweating like a pig. A friend of mine said she knew of Vin, a Laotian weekend mechanic, who was good and charged little — emphasis on “charged little.” So I took the bait.

Vin was small in stature but big in confidence and pride on his garage/auto shop complete with a lathe machine and a grinding machine.

So I played the game all mechanics and customers who meet for the first time play — we sized each other up. A little small talk a little hint about how poor we were — me to lower the price, he to raise his. I admit that I was impressed that he knew exactly what to do. He even ground my brake disc down to smooth the surface. About an hour later, he was done and I had new front brakes. We went for a test drive and I said I still heard the same sound as before. He couldn’t hear anything and assured me that it was nothing and that it would go away. Reluctantly, I paid him $160. For the parts, the grinding and the quick service, I thought it was fair.

On my way home the sound got louder and louder. I called him and told him about the problem. He said to come back next weekend. The whole week I avoided using the car so as not to make the situation any worse. What an inconvenience!

Saturday came and I went back early. We took a test drive. It was the same sound as the last time but miraculously he could hear it clearly this time. So I’m thinking he must have gone to an ear doctor. He insisted it was coming from under the hood. But I insisted that didn’t make sense because the noise only started when we were in motion. He played this little game of upselling until he realized he was dealing with a “professional.” He opened the brake system of the rear tires. Sure enough, that was where the problem was. His demeanor changed because he was proven wrong. No one does that to the king. He had to order the parts so I had to return the next day.  I really didn’t want to return but I felt sorry for the guy because he already ordered the parts.

The little dork was playing on his smart phone when I drove back. After the initial handshake he went back to his digital game and continued for about 20 minutes. I couldn’t believe I, the customer, was waiting for this little gamer to finish his titillating thumb exercise. I realized I had stepped into his kingdom where even the spiders dare not crawl. All chit chat stopped. I should have walked out .

He didn’t have to resurface the disk like my front tires so in less than 30 minutes, he was done. The charge? “The same — $160!” A lesser man would have shoved his smart phone down his royal throat but, well … his wife had not arranged for a convenient assassination … yet.

The whole week I’ve thinking about this little criminal and how I wanted to ram his castle with my car. But I remembered the scriptural verse — ” vengeance is mine says the Lord.”

Dear Lord, forgive my self-righteousness. I know you will make things right. But would it be too much to ask that your start the vengeance? Like right NOW?!?!

“There is no revenge as complete as forgiveness.”
—   Josh Billings

TGIF people!

The Short Story of 4 Mexicans on a Boat

Shared by Chuck of Whittier, CA

Best of Dave Allen
Sent by Art of Sierra Madre, CA

Here are some clips of this funny Brit.

WATCH VIDEO

People Drone
Sent by Don of Kelowna, B.C.

This might be the start of a new mode of transportation.

WATCH VIDEO

A Doll Just Like Me
Sent by Debbie and Bob of Moreno Valley, CA

This video got me teary eyed. Courtney Bennett’s family went out of their way to give Emma a gift she instantly bonded with. Emma has a prosthetic leg. Look her reaction.

WATCH VIDEO

Don’s Puns

From Don’s collection of puns

Parting Shot

Thanks to Tom of Pasadena, CA who shared this photo

The post 4 Mexicans on a Boat appeared first on Traveling Archive.