Comedian Shannon Thompson

For the past 7 years I have been working the road as a comedian and I have performed in over 30 states.  My method of travel to most shows has been driving, with a few trips a year by plane and one nightmare by Greyhound.  I have logged countless miles on 4 cars in the 7 years.  So when every I book something I always crunch the numbers to see which method of travel is the cheapest way.  For the first time in 7 years taking the Amtrak was the cheapest and I was excited, because I have never traveled by train.  I had these thoughts and ideas on how this train trip would be and most of them were wrong.  Here is what I did experience.

My shows were Fri-Sat at The Spokane Comedy Club in Spokane, WA.  To travel to Spokane is 29 hours by train, which means I had to board the train at 11 PM on Wed night.  If you ever get the chance to take the train I would suggest departing in the evening if possible.  You can knock out 6 hours by sleeping when you first get on.  I also suggested having a few drinks before getting on the train if you can.  Trains are not like planes, there are a lot of bathrooms and you can move freely from the time you get on to the time you get off.  I had 2 beers at home before I got on the train, plus I brought a flask of Crown Royal with me.  Needless to say I was sleeping by the time the train reached Fargo.

When I boarded the train it wasn’t very crowded which allowed me to stretch out in both seats (I rode coach) and actually get a good night of sleep.  I slept through the night and woke up around 8 Am the next morning.  They were serving breakfast in the dining car and had heard from a friend that the breakfast on board was pretty good.  When you arrive in the dining car they seat you at a table with a complete strangers, not sure why exactly but my guess is that its so you can strike up a conversation while dining.  I am pretty anti-social in the mornings until I have reached my 2 cups of coffee so this wasn’t the best idea for me, but hey I can play along.  They sat me next to a guy that was traveling to someplace in Montana, I forget where.  He wasn’t much for conversation, which suited me fine.  I ate my breakfast, which wasn’t bad, but wasn’t worth what I paid ($10.00 after tip).

The next few hours were spent reading, playing solitaire and looking out the window at the scenery of North Dakota.  So far the trip was pretty nice…and then we pulled into Williston, ND where the train was boarded by a ton of oil field workers taking off for a long weekend.  The train went from roomy to cramped in one stop.  I was  able to maintain my two seat spread until the first stop in Montana when I had to give up one of my seats to a heavily tattooed CNA (certified nurses assistant).  We didn’t speak for the first 2 hours of the train ride and then boredom kicked in and a conversation was sparked.  He was going to Spokane for a metal concert, which meant I wasn’t getting my second seat back.  This also meant I wouldn’t be getting much sleep the rest of the trip, because I can’t sleep sitting up.

After talking to the CNA for about an hour I decided that I needed a beer from the lounge car which was the car directly behind me.  Convenient I thought.  I approached counter and said “what kind of beer do you have?”  She replied, “we are all out of alcohol.”  Nooooooooooooo!  This can’t be happening.  I still had half a flask of Crown Royal but with the way the kid next to me was talking my ear off that wasn’t gonna last me too much longer.  The oil field worker that was in line behind me I am pretty sure let out a little sob, and then looked for the nearest exit to jump off the train.  I had 14 more hours on that train and sobriety wasn’t an option.

I sulked my way back to my seat and thought how does a train run out of booze?  From what I later heard was that on the Chicago to Minneapolis leg of the trip there were employees from Captain Morgan on board and they pretty much bought out everything.  Fucking spiced rum pushers.  Drink the spiced rum on board and leave the rest to those of us with a penis and a long train ride.

I returned to my seat to find the talkative CNA was still there.  So I sat down, reached in my bag and pulled out my flask.  No hiding it, no concealing it, just whipped it right out.  The CNA obviously saw me do it and asked me what I had in there.  Crown I replied thinking he was gonna ask for some.  He reached into his back and pulled out a liter of Crown Royal and said let me know if you run out.  Sweet lord there is light at the end of this tunnel.  I thought to myself chat all you want, I’ll drink more.

Shortly after my life long friendship was struck up over a liter of Crown Royal.  The train made a scheduled stop in Shelby, MT.  It was only suppose to be a 5 minute stop but we were way ahead of schedule so it turned into a 30 minute stop.  The attendant in my car said feel free to stretch your legs, and there is a bar right across the street.  Just make sure you are back in time to board the train.  When I got off I made a bee line for the bar, which turns out 3/4 of the train did as well.  Word must have gotten out about the booze shortage and no one was taking any chances with sobriety.  Good thing we had 30 minutes, we were gonna need them.

The bartender didn’t know what hit him.  One minute he was serving Carl, the local cowboy hatted mustache man and the next his bar was filled with Amtrak riders.  To say he was overwhelmed was an understatement.  Everyone was ordering 2-3 drinks at a time, plus trying to buy off sale.  The bartender stopped ringing the sales up, but rather just took the money and threw it on the counter.  He then said, “if anyone in here is under 21 and I serve you, I will then shoot you.”  I am sure he meant every word he said, but no one cared.  He could have had a gun in one had and a beer and the other and no one would have noticed the gun.  We were all focused on the task at hand.

The rest of the train ride was pretty uneventful…ok I don’t really remember all that much of it.

My Car.

I do know there was more drinking in the lounge car.  More talking with oil field workers.  And more wanting to exit the train.

Overall I would say that riding the Amtrak was an experience.  One that should be had by everyone.  It gave me a perspective of how life was before everyone owned a car.  Plus there is something exciting about striking up a conversation with a perfect stranger and that something is when the conversation ends.  Jeez people are annoying.

Since the world is ending in 2012 I am on a quest to try new things, and make new memories.  Yesterday I did volunteer work for the first time.  I wanted to see what kind of person volunteers and could I be one of those people.  In short, I can but I probably won’t be.

Kim and I took the kids to Feed My Starving Children.  A non-profit org that helps feed children in third word countries in Africa, Asia and South America.  Its an org that has been around a while and does good things.

To be honest, I went into the experience with hopes of writing new jokes just as much as I did the desire to help someone.  I don’t think of myself as a selfish or selfless person.  I am just me.  So the idea of giving back while writing new material seemed ok to me.  A win-win situation so to speak.

This org is based in religion and most people there were the God fearing Christians that the midwest is known for.  So I felt a bit out of place.  Religion is something that should be between you and your God.  Whoever he is.  At least that is my personal feeling about it.

Once we got past the religious stuff things went smoothly for me.  I was given the task of shoveling rice into bins.  It seemed like an easy job…until I saw the size of the rice bags.  The largest bags of rice I have ever seen.  It looked like a prop out of the movie Platoon.  I kept thinking to myself this village is feeding an entire NVA regiment, we best burn it to the ground.

Everything was moving along smoothly until an old guy, who you could tell volunteers regularly, asked me to not fill the bins so full.  A normal person would have so oh sure no problem.  For me it burned my ass a little.  I wanted to call the guy a pussy, throw down my shovel and walk out.  But with Kim’s kids there I refrained.  I don’t like being told what to do by anyone, and sure as shit by someone that isn’t paying me for the labor I am providing.  Do I sound like a child, I know I am.

The next 45 minutes passed without anything else of note happening.  At the end, I was glad I did it.  Because it did make me feel good for a brief period of time and I did write some new material, which may or may not be funny.

To celebrate our achievements we did what Americans do best.  We went to Zantigo and gorged ourselves on cheap Mexican food.  America, Fuck Yeah!

Chaos, confusion and fun.  That pretty much sums up my family holiday parties.  2011 was no different with one exception, I hosted the party.

I assumed my family would be a little resistant to coming over to St Paul for Christmas Eve.  After all, they all live in Minneapolis or one of the Minneapolis suburbs.  There was a little resistance, but for the most part everyone showed up and enjoyed themselves.

The fun part was watching Kim’s family intermix with my family.  There was an odor of uncomfortable feeling lingering in the air.  Not everyone noticed, but I did and I enjoyed it.  Kim’s family is a tight knit group much like my own and they tend to not be overly accepting of outsiders so to watch them watch how my family celebrates was awesome.  I have one relative that is notorious for telling bad jokes to anyone and everyone that will listen.  Kim’s Dad was the recipient of most of those jokes, which was a relief to most of my family since its usually one of us.

Kim’s family had about enough of watching my family drink, laugh and tell stories and went home around 10PM.  I may have even heard one of them say “lets go, these people are weird” although I can’t be sure as I had ingested a lot of Christmas spirits by that time..

The festivities ran into the night until 230 am when Santa Claus came down the basement and said “hey, finish up.  I got presents and shit for these kids.”  I argued with Santa briefly, but then realized that she…I mean he was right.  Thus Christmas Eve 2011 came to an end.

In an effort to try and get myself into the Christmas spirit I decided to share my favorite Christmas moments from my life.  It will be a mixed bag of good memories, disturbing moments and funny stories.  Christmas is never boring in my family.  Enjoy.

Mom Had Too Much Egg Nog…and Vodka -

My Mom loves Christmas.  Oh man does she really love Christmas.    She takes it upon herself to set the tone for each Christmas Eve.  She prepares herself for this task by first making her awesome chicken wings.  Secondly she begins drinking.  Whatever her choice of cocktail is for the evening be sure that there won’t be enough.  Luckily the more she drinks the more festive she becomes.  The more festive she becomes the more festive everyone else becomes.  It is a domino effect really. It is hard not to enjoy yourself while this is going on.  Even as a kid when all we wanted to do was go home and open presents we had to respect that Mom was enjoying herself…until 3 in the morning.

The matriarch of our family has always done this.  It was a tradition passed down from my Grandmother.  Christmas eve was never a success in our family unless my Grandmother got buzzed up and had her annual cigarette.  Once you saw Grandma smoking you knew all was right with the world.

I wouldn’t change this tradition for anything in the world.  It is one of the few times when my Mom really gets to let loose and enjoy the season and her family.  I am really excited for it this year as it will be taking place at my house.  I have stocked up on White Zin (my Mom’s current choice) and I am ready to eat some chicken wings.

Merry Motherfucking Christmas – My Mom (after 5 black russians).

Make the most of your holiday.

The Serious Comedy Site reviewed my cd.  Give it a read.

http://www.theseriouscomedysite.com/showreview.php?r_id=2172

I have spent the last 7 days with a killer head cold.  The kind that leaves your sink green and gooey.  Gross, I know.  Head colds, much like comedy are all about timing.  This one had great timing…or piss poor depending on who you are asking.

I first saw the signs of a cold on Wed and took steps to eliminate it ASAP as I had shows this week Thur-Sat.  By Thursday night I was feeling pretty good, and I thought sure I can have a drink or two.  Major mistake.  I woke up Friday feeling worse than I did on Wed.  That is booze for you.  Sometimes it will clear that cold right up and other times it turns that cold into Godzilla on steroids.

In comedy there is no sick days, so I spent all day Friday laying around and popping Advil.  By the time I was ready to leave for my show I felt ok.  It didn’t matter how I felt, I have to do the show because there are bills to pay.  This time I didn’t make the same mistake as Thursday.  I didn’t drink on stage or after at all.  Lo and behold, I had a damn good show for a guy with a brick of mucus in his head.  I have always subscribed to the school of thought that booze made me more loose on stage.  Not a lot of booze, but I always brought a beer on stage.  I think I am done doing that.  I felt that by just drinking water up there that my delivery was controlled and spot on.  Saturday night I was also booze free with the same results.  My girlfriend even mentioned something about it.

I never really thought of booze as a performance crutch for me, maybe it was.  It helped calm my nerves, but 9 years into I don’t really have that nervousness any more.  There is an anticipation, but it is a good anticipation.  An excitement to get on stage and do your thing and bring it to an audience.

So I guess that head cold brought on a moment of clarity for me.  Does this mean I am done drinking.  No!  It just means I am done drinking on stage.  It is a job after all, and after 9 years in this business and no TV credits and no accolades of any kind I figure what the fuck it can’t hurt to try something different.

Tis the season for the holiday party.  I have booked a few, but I still have room to add more to my calendar.  If you have a company holiday party and need a comedian get in touch with me.

Halloween.  Huh, I don’t see what all the hoopla is about.  Dragging your children to complete strangers house to beg for candy or else you will trick them.  No wonder weirdos put shit in candy.  No one likes to be strong armed by a snot nosed kid.  However, I do see why some people like it.  It gives us adults the chance to dress up and act like bizarre, scary or ghoulish beings.  So I could see where that could be fun.

I attended two Halloween parties this year, I didn’t dress up for either.  I have dressed up in the past, and if the mood strikes me I will do so again.  I just didn’t feel like putting much effort into it this year.  There is a weird perspective on being one of the few n0t dressed up at a costume party. I like the idea of street clothes while everyone else is in drag.  It give the party a different feel.  People in costume seem to let loose a little more than those not in costume.

Kim (my girlfriend to those of you non avid readers of my blog) took me to probably the best and worst Halloween/costume party of my life.

The party was located of Grand Ave in St Paul and was being hosted by an acquaintance from her job.  She didn’t know the guy very well, but informed me that he was a bit of an eccentric.  That was an understatement.  Her friend was dressed up as General Gahdafi, the now defunct dictator.  Now, in my mind if I were to guess his costume I would have said Michael Jackson circa 1986.  He had a wig on which looked a bit Jerry curlish, and he was wearing what appeared to be a purple General’s uniform.  It was far more pop diva than devious dictator.  He was a nice enough guy and hospitable to say the least.

The real star of the party were the rest of the cast of characters in attendance.  One older dude that was tossing back red wine and telling stories of being in the Air Force during Nam was entertaining to say the least.  Plus a woman who had  turned 60 that day (this information was repeated several times) and I exchanged words about Garrison Keeler and his writing/performing ( I am not a fan and after a few drinks can really spout off about Garrison Keeler amongst other things).  It was all in good fun, I hope.  Or maybe I just crushed the biggest Garrison Keeler fan in the 5 state area.  Doubtful, but I can dream.

All and all they were nice people and the conversation was interesting.  I kept thinking to myself how much fun that party would have been if I was on mushrooms.  The best part of the party though was how old they all were.  No one at that party was under 60 yrs old and they were carrying on and having a good time like they were in their 20′s…at least until 11 PM when he promptly kicked everyone out because hey, its 11 PM and Michael Jackson/Momar Ghadafi/possibly Garrison Keeler himself needed his beauty sleep.

Taco Tuesday is every where.  You can’t walk down a side walk in Minneapolis on a Tuesday without tacos being shoved in your face.  I like tacos as much as the next guy, but geez do we all have to jump on the band wagon.  Diversify a little would you.  I don’t need 15 different places offering me tacos on Tuesday.

Here are 7 different suggestions I have for daily special that will help break up the taco Tuesday madness.

Monday – Melon Mondays – The possibilities for strip clubs alone are endless.

Tuesday – Tofu Tuesdays – This works because we can trap all the vegetarians and vegans in one location and start the place on fire.  Then we could eat their overly cooked, but very lean carcasses.

Wednesday – Wiener Schnitzel Wednesday – This works on so many levels.  Mainly because every Wed would be like Octoberfest.  You can’t have wiener schnitzel without beer.

Thursday – Tossed Salad Thursday – Use your imagination…

Friday – Flaming Hot Cheetoes Fridays – Because when you wake up on Saturday and you have orange fingers and a sore butthole you have a legitimate excuse this time.

Saturday – Sushi Saturday – Because you have eaten like shit all week long, time to put something semi healthy in you.

Sunday – Skittles Sunday – Because that is what Jesus would want you to eat on a Sunday.  Now taste the rainbow.