I went and did another 88improv show in Omaha this past weekend with good friends Tim and Sarah Schoenfeld. It was for the Cargill Christmas Party, and I had a pretty stinking good time.
The food was great, the people laughed, and I had a lot of fun playing improv games. The team of 88improv is just about the best team you could hope to watch, and it's hard for me not to laugh the entire time I'm up there with them.
In an effort to try and liven up the old blog again, I'll relay an old story from my days at Northwestern College in Orange City, IA. I didn't attend Northwestern, but my wife Andrea did, so I was there for several years.
I first met the guys from 88improv while at Northwestern, and we liked to get together once in a while and have fun. Well, one Friday night we're all sitting around looking for something to do, and I ask the guys if they want some golf balls. I'd been biking every morning around the Orange City golf course, and I noticed that there were often thousands of golf balls just laying around on the practice range. They apparently didn't believe in picking them up very often.
So we all jump on some "borrowed" bicycles (which we returned!) and headed off to the golf course. It was late enough, and dark enough, that no one was there, so we went to work. I took off my hockey jersey and tied off the sleeves and the neck to form a make-shift sack of sorts. Then we stuffed the thing with hundreds of golf balls.
When we got home, we really didn't know what to do with all the golf balls. First we spread them out on the floor and took turns rolling around on them. It was a pretty amazing feeling to shoot across the floor as they rolled underneath. I think we let them all fall down some stairs a few times. Then we got an idea.
Andrea and I were living in a house owned by theater professors Jeff and Karen Barker. We were in an apartment attached to the house, and the rest of the home was occupied by several other theater students.
We grabbed the big bag of golf balls and headed down to the basement room of Amy Christiansen. She had one of those little dorm fridges, so we tipped it backwards and proceeded to fill it all the way to the door with the golf balls. Then we put it back into place and made ourselves scarce.
I don't remember if I was around or not when Amy finally opened her fridge, but I'm sure it was hysterical.
DISCLAIMER
Now, I don't condone the theft of golf balls from golf course practice ranges. I know what we did was wrong, and I'm very sorry about it now. I'm not sure what happened to the big bag of golf balls, but I'm sure we returned them all to where we found them . . . I'm pretty sure anyway.
Till next time,
Jason
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Thursday, December 07, 2006
88 Improv
Sorry for the late blog. Just catching up to this past weekend.
I attempted to go to Grand Rapids, MI this past weekend to perform some poetry for a church Christmas party, but due to the extreme weather hitting Illinois, I didn't make it. I was travelling with ministry partner Mark Elgersma, and about twenty minutes into Illinois, we notices that NO ONE was coming towards us in the other lane.
"That can't be good," Mark said.
"No, it can't," I responded.
And it wasn't. When we came around a big bend in the road, we found that both lanes of traffic were backed up for miles because of a jacknifed semi or two. We finally found an exit and then just turned around to come home. Apparently, O'Hare airport was shut down for the day due to the blizzard, so we should probably have never left in the first place. Dumb me.
I did make it to Omaha on Saturday to perform some improv with good friends Tim and Sarah Schoenfeld with 88improv. They'd double booked some shows over the weekend, and asked if I'd come down and be an extra body for them. I had a ton of fun. The show was downtown in some hotel for a Christmas party being held by a bunch of computer techies. It ended up being a really good show and Tim and Sarah are always hilarious.
This weekend I head down to Omaha again for another show on Saturday night. And, as far as I can think, that's my last show of any type for the rest of the year. The next thing on my docket is going to Canada in January . . . great timing, eh?
A few changes coming up - the first of which is a name change for the ministry I'm in with Mark and Troy. It's changing from "39-27 Ministries" to "Happy the Dog Ministries". The website on the side of the page hasn't been updated yet, but that's because the new web page isn't ready.
. . .
A few people have complained that I need some more "jokes" on my website so it's not so boring, and I'm afraid I didn't come through this time. Let's see . . . our bedroom ceiling is leaking and our septic tank needs an expensive repair. Wait, that's not funny to me. But maybe you can laugh at me.
What else? Oh, yeah. The dripping ceiling hit my video ipod and ruined it. Also funny if you like laughing at me instead of with me. The car may also need new tires as well.
Enough of all that tomfoolery though. Here's a Christmas poem:
Last Minute Shopper
Cousin Doug looked so forlorned,
As he came that Christmas day,
All his presents unadorned,
In the normal Christmas way.
Pretty paper was not used,
Nor were bows or Christmas tags,
We were all a bit confused,
As he gave out plastic bags.
“Merry Christmas!” he cried out,
“May these holidays bring cheer!”
But I think we all had doubt,
That he really seemed sincere.
Opening my gift from Doug,
As I wondered what it held,
I pulled out a coffee mug,
And some peanuts that’d been shelled.
Dad was next to open his,
He got some motor oil,
And a new can of cheese wiz,
Both wrapped up in tin foil.
He said, “Thanks, that’s really neat,”
And my mom was next to go,
She got air soles for her feet,
And two tickets from lotto.
As my brother opened next,
He pulled out some loaves of bread,
And he seemed a bit perplexed,
Cause, “Ah, hah!” was all he said.
We thought Grandma’s was the best,
Or at least the most bizarre,
Doug gave her a leather vest,
With the logo of NASCAR.
“I have something I should say,”
Doug spoke with hesitation,
“I bought all your gifts today,
“They came from the gas station.”
“What? I’m shocked, how can that be?”
Grandma said as if aghast,
“My new vest fits perfectly!”
And the awkward moment passed.
And a marriage poem. . .
Married Life
My brother asked awhile back,
“Is your married life still on track?
You’ve been together for five years,
Do you have any regrets or fears?”
I said, “Oh, yeah, it’s really great!
There’s always good food on my plate,
There’s always shampoo in the show’r,
And outside there are pretty flow’rs.”
“The bed is almost always made,
The bills are almost always paid,
Cobwebs are very rarely seen,
And my laundry is always clean.”
He said, “It sounds like paradise,
And what you’ve said makes me think twice,
About the single life I’ve got,
And whether I should tie the knot.
So maybe I should buy a ring,
And find a girl to wear that thing,
The married life just might suit me,
Since your life is so problem free.
I must have paused a little bit,
Because he asked me, “What is it?”
You seem like something’s on your mind,
Like maybe things aren’t always fine.”
I laughed and said, “Forget it, man!
My life is great from where I stand,
There was just this one minor time,
When everything wasn’t sublime.
It’s nothing, don’t pay it a thought,
Cause a complainer I am not,”
But he said he just had to know,
And so I said, “Well here we go . . .”
We’re in the living room one day,
And Andrea looks up to say,
You know I think I’d like this space,
If the couch and book shelf traded place.
So I huffed and puffed for an hour,
When I was done her face looked sour,
And then she had the nerve to say,
“It looked better the other way.”
And then there was the other night,
When we played poker till daylight,
And even though I’d left a note,
I guess my absence got her goat.
“I was all alone!” she hollered.
I said, “I won fifty dollars!”
She said, “Well I’m still mad at you!”
And spent the fifty on new shoes.
And then the times I hate the most,
Are times when she can be quite gross,
She trims her nails in bed at night,
And leaves used Q-Tips in plain sight.
She eats with this loud slurping sound,
She’ll eat food she dropped on the ground,
And though I swore I’d never tell,
Man, she can make that bathroom smell!
He nodded as he took it in,
“So you would say you’re happy then?
With everything about your wife,
And all the changes to your life?”
And I assured him that I was,
But I don’t think he bought it cause,
Even though he heard my story,
He’s still single and near forty.
Till next time,
Jason
I attempted to go to Grand Rapids, MI this past weekend to perform some poetry for a church Christmas party, but due to the extreme weather hitting Illinois, I didn't make it. I was travelling with ministry partner Mark Elgersma, and about twenty minutes into Illinois, we notices that NO ONE was coming towards us in the other lane.
"That can't be good," Mark said.
"No, it can't," I responded.
And it wasn't. When we came around a big bend in the road, we found that both lanes of traffic were backed up for miles because of a jacknifed semi or two. We finally found an exit and then just turned around to come home. Apparently, O'Hare airport was shut down for the day due to the blizzard, so we should probably have never left in the first place. Dumb me.
I did make it to Omaha on Saturday to perform some improv with good friends Tim and Sarah Schoenfeld with 88improv. They'd double booked some shows over the weekend, and asked if I'd come down and be an extra body for them. I had a ton of fun. The show was downtown in some hotel for a Christmas party being held by a bunch of computer techies. It ended up being a really good show and Tim and Sarah are always hilarious.
This weekend I head down to Omaha again for another show on Saturday night. And, as far as I can think, that's my last show of any type for the rest of the year. The next thing on my docket is going to Canada in January . . . great timing, eh?
A few changes coming up - the first of which is a name change for the ministry I'm in with Mark and Troy. It's changing from "39-27 Ministries" to "Happy the Dog Ministries". The website on the side of the page hasn't been updated yet, but that's because the new web page isn't ready.
. . .
A few people have complained that I need some more "jokes" on my website so it's not so boring, and I'm afraid I didn't come through this time. Let's see . . . our bedroom ceiling is leaking and our septic tank needs an expensive repair. Wait, that's not funny to me. But maybe you can laugh at me.
What else? Oh, yeah. The dripping ceiling hit my video ipod and ruined it. Also funny if you like laughing at me instead of with me. The car may also need new tires as well.
Enough of all that tomfoolery though. Here's a Christmas poem:
Last Minute Shopper
Cousin Doug looked so forlorned,
As he came that Christmas day,
All his presents unadorned,
In the normal Christmas way.
Pretty paper was not used,
Nor were bows or Christmas tags,
We were all a bit confused,
As he gave out plastic bags.
“Merry Christmas!” he cried out,
“May these holidays bring cheer!”
But I think we all had doubt,
That he really seemed sincere.
Opening my gift from Doug,
As I wondered what it held,
I pulled out a coffee mug,
And some peanuts that’d been shelled.
Dad was next to open his,
He got some motor oil,
And a new can of cheese wiz,
Both wrapped up in tin foil.
He said, “Thanks, that’s really neat,”
And my mom was next to go,
She got air soles for her feet,
And two tickets from lotto.
As my brother opened next,
He pulled out some loaves of bread,
And he seemed a bit perplexed,
Cause, “Ah, hah!” was all he said.
We thought Grandma’s was the best,
Or at least the most bizarre,
Doug gave her a leather vest,
With the logo of NASCAR.
“I have something I should say,”
Doug spoke with hesitation,
“I bought all your gifts today,
“They came from the gas station.”
“What? I’m shocked, how can that be?”
Grandma said as if aghast,
“My new vest fits perfectly!”
And the awkward moment passed.
And a marriage poem. . .
Married Life
My brother asked awhile back,
“Is your married life still on track?
You’ve been together for five years,
Do you have any regrets or fears?”
I said, “Oh, yeah, it’s really great!
There’s always good food on my plate,
There’s always shampoo in the show’r,
And outside there are pretty flow’rs.”
“The bed is almost always made,
The bills are almost always paid,
Cobwebs are very rarely seen,
And my laundry is always clean.”
He said, “It sounds like paradise,
And what you’ve said makes me think twice,
About the single life I’ve got,
And whether I should tie the knot.
So maybe I should buy a ring,
And find a girl to wear that thing,
The married life just might suit me,
Since your life is so problem free.
I must have paused a little bit,
Because he asked me, “What is it?”
You seem like something’s on your mind,
Like maybe things aren’t always fine.”
I laughed and said, “Forget it, man!
My life is great from where I stand,
There was just this one minor time,
When everything wasn’t sublime.
It’s nothing, don’t pay it a thought,
Cause a complainer I am not,”
But he said he just had to know,
And so I said, “Well here we go . . .”
We’re in the living room one day,
And Andrea looks up to say,
You know I think I’d like this space,
If the couch and book shelf traded place.
So I huffed and puffed for an hour,
When I was done her face looked sour,
And then she had the nerve to say,
“It looked better the other way.”
And then there was the other night,
When we played poker till daylight,
And even though I’d left a note,
I guess my absence got her goat.
“I was all alone!” she hollered.
I said, “I won fifty dollars!”
She said, “Well I’m still mad at you!”
And spent the fifty on new shoes.
And then the times I hate the most,
Are times when she can be quite gross,
She trims her nails in bed at night,
And leaves used Q-Tips in plain sight.
She eats with this loud slurping sound,
She’ll eat food she dropped on the ground,
And though I swore I’d never tell,
Man, she can make that bathroom smell!
He nodded as he took it in,
“So you would say you’re happy then?
With everything about your wife,
And all the changes to your life?”
And I assured him that I was,
But I don’t think he bought it cause,
Even though he heard my story,
He’s still single and near forty.
Till next time,
Jason
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