Friday, December 23, 2011

Folk singers and muddy windshields

Last week was definitely busy! On Thursday, I saw one of my favorite singers in the world, Melissa Ferrick, perform at the Ark in Ann Arbor. She is the best live performer I have ever seen! The show was absolutely out of this world, and I wrote a review for it over at Zoiks Online. So, um, yeah, that hyperlink is your cue to read it.

On Friday, I worked at Cali's Bar in Brookfield, Wisconsin. It was a cute, intimate room. And the best part? It was attached to the Best Western Motel in town. I've said it once, and I'll say it again: Kate Brindle LOVES comedy rooms that are attached to hotels. Read: Kate Brindle LOVES stumbling home without having to worry about DUI's.

Actually, Friday night was pretty tame because I had to get up early in the morning to head to Duluth, Minnesota. In fact, at most shows, I get excited about free shots. Not this one. At this one, I was most excited by the granola at the free continental breakfast. Am I getting old or what?

On Saturday, I headed to Duluth and performed two shows at Dubh Linn Pub. Everyone was tall and blonde in Minnesota; it was like I had returned to my homeland. Both shows were sold out, and the crowds were fantastic! I had so much fun at the show. Plus, I got the added bonus of catching up with my good friend, Tim, who works at Dubh Linn. I also had the treat of working with Isaac Witty. I had never worked with him before, and I was so impressed. He's such a fantastic writer, and I definitely left the show feeling inspired.



Because I'm a master at routing (read: master at failing to look at an atlas), I had a show the following day that was 13 hours away. So, I woke up at the crack of dawn, grabbed a free coffee from the hotel (ah, the little things in life that make me happy) and headed out.

I had to drive across the top of Michigan's upper peninsula and then all the way down I-75 to get to my destination outside of Detroit. Because I was in the upper Midwest, and it snows like nobody's business here, my car was constantly being pelted with a slushy, muddy mix of yuck.

Every time I attempted to clean my windshield with wiper fluid (or, as it's known by its proper name: "squirty stuff"), my ol' Honda girl denied me. So I figured she was out of fluid. Seeing as there's not much civilization in the UP, there weren't exactly a lot of places around where I could purchase wiper solution. So instead, I pulled over every five minutes, doused my windshield with water and tried to wipe it with a napkin.

After two hours of this, I finally found a gas station where I could purchase more wiper fluid. After cursing loudly since it was so cold and my hood got stuck, I managed to lift the hood and pour the squirty stuff into the squirty canister (also a proper name). I remember thinking that the canister must be huge as I was pouring TONS of it in there and it still wasn't filling up.

About this time, my feet started getting wet. You see, it seems my squirty canister had sprung a leak, and ALL of the fluid was draining directly onto my feet.

As you can imagine, at this point, more cursing ensued.

So, for the next nine hours, I drove with my windshield looking like this:



Because I was terrified that I would hit someone or something, and because driving a car that looks like it's been through a monster truck course is not my idea of fun, it was a mixture of swearing and praying inside my car (with the occasional break to belt out Christmas music) the entire ride home.

The drive was completely worth it though because I got to be a part of comedian Mark Knope's Toys for Tots show. Mark has produced the show for three years, and this year, he invited me to do it. It went really well, and we collected several box loads of toys for kids. Here's hoping he holds a sex toy party for single women in their thirties next year. Yours truly is hoping to be the benefactor.

A group shot after the show:



It was so great to see all the other comics. Not only was everyone super funny, but it was great to catch up with old friends.

And moi on stage (probably mid-poop joke).

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