Tim Robbins, the Birthday Party, and Me
A Stardust Memory
Last week was a fairly momentous one for me. It ended with the culmination of years of work – finally getting my Bachelor of Arts and Sciences. A great name for a degree – the two fields most notorious for their great employment opportunities. “Bachelor of the Arts” sounds like the way they would indicate a man was gay in the 1950s and ‘60s. “Poor Liberace, never found a woman to settle down with, but he’s a confirmed ‘Bachelor of the Arts’.”
It started, however, with my 30th anniversary of beginning standup comedy, a momentous occasion by any standard. I’d intended to do something to mark it, and my plans shrank from “shows on both coasts” to “maybe a show in LA” to “a Substack post about it” to “posting some pictures on Instagram.”
That’s fine. I’m busy. I’ll do something for my 31st anniversary instead. But for right now, I would like to share one of my favorite memories from doing standup comedy.
The 50th birthday party show for a Quaker life coach in his living room
I think he found my blog by literally Googling “standup comedian”, and hired me for $125 to come to his apartment near Union Square. I lived in Queens, so while he apologized it couldn’t be more, it was a great deal for me – getting paid that much to do 15 minutes and be home in bed by midnight is always the best deal as far as I’m concerned.
The place was packed and the audience was lovely. I followed his son’s rock band, which included the son of the actor Tim Robbins, who I was warned might be there. He was. The group was great for a group of teenage boys and really who cares, the night was a celebration. There was a 15-minute break while the band broke down.
Here are two important facts to help you understand what came next:
1. Tim Robbins, being a great and successful actor, found a seat in a chair in a spotlight behind the stage, where he could be seen by all. This is part of a skill set all great and successful actors possess – knowing when a camera is pointed at them, and knowing exactly how to be in the public view in every room they enter.
2. Nobody but me, the host, and his wife, knew that there was going to be a standup comedian going on after the band. As far as everyone was concerned, the band was the evening’s entertainment.
So after the break, while the crowd is drinking and talking, our host jumps onstage and announces me, the comedian. Everybody stops and pays attention, where they are standing or sitting. The actor, Tim Robbins, the most famous person in that room, is now trapped directly behind me, in a chair, under a spotlight.
Meaning that he and I are both now trapped in a situation where everybody knows the guy who is not onstage performing and watching him, while they are also very respectfully watching the guy who is onstage trying to entertain them.
Before I continue, let me say this: I am a full-on Tim Robbins fan. I saw The Shawshank Redemption in the theater and liked it so much that I saw it again the next day. I watched Jacob’s Ladder on VHS with my dad, and it blew my mind so wide open that when I was visiting LA to do some shows before I moved here, I canceled a gig I’d been very much looking forward to so that I could go see it at one of this city’s revival houses.
I own the Criterion 4k of Bull Durham. I still occasionally quote the movie Bob Roberts in conversation with my mom, and when I went to the 2000 Ralph Nader election rally at Madison Square Garden, and Tim Robbins came out as Bob Roberts, I cheered.
And so here I am onstage, sharing focus with Tim Robbins. A part of me said, “Don’t mention it, just do your set and go.” Because it was a great crowd. I love a house party show, because everyone is just drunk enough to be mellow but nobody’s drunk enough to heckle in a serious way. Everyone likes each other there. Everyone is on the same wavelength. It’s a recipe for a kill set every time.
Tim Robbins, the most famous person in that room, is now trapped directly behind me, in a chair, under a spotlight.
And I was doing so well that I felt emboldened to tease Tim Robbins just a bit. My concern was that it would go badly, because this guy was a friend to a lot of people in the room, but my instinct was actually right. Something was weird in the room, and I acknowledged it.
I couldn’t see Tim Robbins. But there was a guy up front, right in my eyeline, and every time I made a remark about him, the guy would glance over, see something positive, and start laughing. So I knew That Robbins was either enjoying it, or making a show of enjoying it understanding that he was the real star of my show.
I finished my set, and the show was over and the party was in full swing. I stood in the kitchen, and thought about approaching Tim Robbins, just to let him know I was a fan and I hoped there were no hard feelings. But he was being mobbed – it looked like he was being congratulated for my set.
Sometimes you’re a performer at a party and you’re encouraged to hang out and meet people. Other times you get the energy that it would be preferred if you took your money and left. This was one of those situations. It didn’t matter to me. Because my motto in standup comedy is always, “Any time I get paid, it’s a great show.”
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