I Spy Philip Seymour Hoffman
I see as of last night, lots of people are coming here to learn about some of my pals via "Last Comic Standing" searches. Although they as of yet haven't put anyone on their official site and I know a bit about what's to come, I was surprised to find I immediately felt an allegiance to NBC to not reveal their hand. So I won't. Plus, come to think of it, NBC has given me some nice little work and they pay gawd damn residuals.
Do reality shows pay residuals? Like they don't even pay, do they? Probably not on both counts and who the screw replays a reality show? Once you know the outcome it's much less interesting, right? So there's the best reason to leave you people guessing. If you want to know what happens, wait it out and eventually there's bound to be a cable network that only shows reality show re-runs. For now feel the dramatic arc, don't forget to breathe.
I liked what I saw. Still "The Search for the Funniest Person in America" is a truckload of oversell. How about the -- hello! -- esteemed judges? Like even a Quinn set at the Cellar where he's working out new stuff by reading off a sheet of paper, is awesome. Then I've seen him less than a week later, doing the same stuff sans paper polished to a high shine. It's amazing. Anyway, I digress no more...
If you missed last night's 2 hour premiere of Last Comic Standing on NBC, complete with the wonderful Baldo, Pepitone, Kerwin, Vos, and Kahaney and their NY antics it will be replayed Saturday at 8PM E/P on Comedy Central.
Um, cut the promo, what's with Philip Seymour Hoffman?
Oh yeah. Since I leave you in the dark about LCS, I can provide steamy PSH dish -- a SPD exclusive!
Last night I spied Philip Seymour Hoffman. When it comes to picking out celebrities I'm usually as clueless as Mr. Magoo at an orgy, but I recognized him sitting with two friends on the verdant Astroturf at the stunning new bit of Hudson River Park.
I actually never would have noticed him if he hadn't been wearing his LA style, "I'm a celebrity please don't recognize me" cap, that makes celebrities so much more conspicuous. Call it, "Madonna's Toupee"? No, that just sucks. There should be a Sniglet for these caps. Where's Rich Hall when we need him? Oh yeah, he's mainly in England successfully working a whole new exciting comedic persona.
Anywho, as I was just cooing o'er the new plantings and handicapped accessible picnic tables; I spotted PSH when he further pulled down his no-clever-name-as-of-yet cap. He pulled the cap down more when my sweaty ass* got within 20 feet. If you pull the pulling the cap down further trick, and you haven't slept with the person who is approaching, you are either:
1. A surly teenage girl in high-priced workout wear.
2. Someone in a discount FBI witness protection program.
3. A celebrity.
So here's to Philip Seymour Hoffman. The sighting would've been worth more if I hadn't spotted him en cap a few years ago at a goodly local hang.
In other celebrity news, the other night as we ate meat salads, my man spotted Julia Louis-Dreyfus walking down 7th avenue. I didn't recognize her because she wasn't wearing a "don't notice me" cap. If it was her she's mega short, with quite healthy looking hair.
Though normally my burning question would be how she avoided frizz, I was dying to ask JLD what's on the mind of every comedian: Why on earth is your former show mate hawking KFC?
But even if she had been at the next table also downing a meat salad, I never would've bothered her. If I don't respect a celebrity, I leave them alone. And if I do respect a celebrity, I run away twice as fast.****
* My ass is not usually sweaty, but I had actually been jogging. My ass at rest can be merely moist, but usually only on a humid day.**
** Perhaps the whole reason for this entry is to let the world know I have recently partaken in a massive bout of aerobic activity.***
***In the previous sentence, massive = "Hey, I wore my jog bra and bopped down to the educational stack of oyster shells and again hefted myself in a jogging type movement all the way back."
****Here I convenienty forget the time I introduced myself to Mel Brooks when we were both waiting outside of Joe Allen's or actually asked Milton Berle to autograph his 1974 Haskell Frankel book backstage after his set on Comic Relief. I was shaking both times, knew how utterly lame it was to be annoying them, but couldn't help myself. It's bizarre even for me to put them together, but it should be said they were both amazingly kind to this shaking four bit comedian nerd. And if you've read this far, my guess is that you are a SFBCN too. Welcome.