I wonder what it must be like to be the president. And I don’t just mean President Obama, but I have a feeling they’ve all had similar experiences.

What must it be like to have clear vision and ideals that you’re trying to get across?

In my performing career I dealt with rooms of drunks and four year olds, so that’s probably the same as it is with Congress. I dealt with name calling as a kid with glasses and was chubby, so it’s probably not far off from the media. But I grew up in (at the time) the whitest suburb in the nation so thinly veiled racial stereotypes in 2013 when the man has already served four years; well I just want to give him a cookie.

I can only picture myself in grade school, learning about the history of the United States and seeing the portraits of all the men who have led this country. It’s inspiring. And as you age and develop your own point of view, I think you hold onto that ideal that you might be able to do great things for what really is a great country.

But man, once you hit that office and face all the BS and day to day, well I just would be under the desk or curled up on that rug with my thumb in my mouth by lunch. Everybody criticized George Bush Junior for taking all the time off, but maybe that’s the only way that you can make it-go ride your horsey.

I don’t pay attention much to politics. I look at the headlines and I watch the Daily Show. Because I need the humor with it. I am a smart guy and if I paid too much attention it would just drive me nuts. There’s not enough yoga poses created to relieve that stress.

But I think about something I heard Dennis Miller say once, and I’m paraphrasing, “hey I didn’t vote for the guy but he’s got the job and I’m going to support him.” I don’t know which president was working at the time, but I think it’s valid no matter who. He’s elected, he’s got the job, let him do it. Does anyone follow a janitor around all day telling them they missed a spot?

Maybe Hillary could be next. Maybe she’s smart enough to be able to play them, and cry when she needs to. Not that she’d need to, but it would get all those old farts to shut up. Meantime, man, give the guy a break. Look how gray he’s become.


How To Vote

Every election I think that I should learn about all the facts, all the candidates, all that they stand for; so that I can make intelligent decisions in the voting booth. And then something good shows up in my Hulu queue.

I think the problem is that I wait until too close to the election. And at that point, the ridiculousness of the campaigns, with negative tactics and silly quotes, have made me want to puke. Or as my dad says, move to Norway. Is it really going to matter if I vote? If I don’t, will the country really change? I am going to vote, I do feel the responsibility, but I really just know who I’m voting for as President. The rest is just too much to learn and I’ve got work to do.

Here in California, they have a lot of propositions, many of them very interesting, and it seems like your vote really can count. Because they are determined by the number of votes and not the fact that the people elect the electorates to the electoral college and then they party like crazy because that’s what you do in college. I think that’s how it works; I learned in seventh grade and I was drooling in my head over pretty girls in class.

The trouble with the propositions is that they call them “props.” Being a magician since I was ten years old, the word prop refers to the box or bag that makes something disappear. So every time I see a commercial for a “prop” I think about the box that used to make my bunny appear. Since he had to sit in the secret compartment for forty minutes until the end of the show, I was always worried that I’d open the box and the rabbit wouldn’t be alive. The kids would scream and cry and I would be banned from the magic circuit by PETA and I’d become a mime, because the devastation would be too much for me and I would never want to speak again. I’d have to move to France because that’s the only place that really likes mimes and I’d end up smoking cigarettes and eating too many really cheesy dishes and then I’d be a fat mime and non one wants to see a fat mime so I’d just be the only white-face homeless person.

Where was I? Oh yeah voting. So maybe I should vote. I know who I want to vote for for President but I think I’ll do the rest like a multiple choice test that you haven’t studied for: Democrat. Republican. Republican. Republican. Democrat. Democrat. etc.

I’m just kidding. I don’t know if your vote really counts or if government can really change no matter who gets elected; it seems like a big machine that can’t really be re-wired. But I do believe that the real change that can happen in the world does have to come from each man and woman looking in the mirror and so maybe if we all take this election a little more serious that will inspire us to work for what we can each do as individuals. Hey I’m a writer and a performer. I’m a dreamer.

And God said…


A short film about God.

Fade in:


God: Hello.  Hello.  Is any one out there?

God snaps his fingers and there is light.

God: Ah, better. But still nothing.

Cut to:


God: Need some color. Blues good, I like blue.

God waves his hand and creates the sky and sea.

God: Good I could use a swim. and some color.

God jumps in the ocean.

God: Ok, where do I lie down?

And God creates land.

Cut to:


God: Man I gotta get out of the sun.

Cut to:


God creates the stars, moons and Happy Hour.

God: Man I need some action.

Cut to:


God created every living creature of the seas and every winged bird, blessing them to multiply and fill the waters and the sky with life.

God: Now that’s what I’m talking about. Hey guys, guys, guys! Oh right they can’t talk or let me pet them.

Cut to:


God created the animals to fill the earth. On day six, God also created man and woman  in his own image to commune with him. He blessed them and gave them every creature and the whole earth to rule over, care for, and cultivate.

Cut to:


God is reclining in a lounge chair.

God: Who da man?

Cut to:


God sits in a large office chair surveying a dozen monitors. On one three punk girls are being jailed for protesting. On another trouble in the Middle East is being broadcast while two more play violence in Korea and Africa. The other eight show rhetoric of the United States Presidential race.

God puts his head between his hands.

God: Oh crap why didn’t I stop on Thursday.