"I'd Rather Have My Life"

This past Wednesday night I went to Joker's Comedy Club to see a "celebrity" comedian. That comedian was Pauly Shore. You might recognize him from such films as Encino Man, Son in Law, In the Army Now, Jury Duty, and Biodome. You won't recognize him from anything else. Aside from some work on MTV in the early 90s, Pauly's five movies were his only flirtation with fame. His trademarks: acting stoned, waving his arms around, saying the word weasel in a high-pitched stretched out tone of voice, and calling people, "buddy."

I'm sure most of you who read this blog know who Pauly Shore is. I won't go into any more detail on his  movies or his personality. I went to see him on Wednesday night with two friends from work. We figured the show would go one of two ways: we would see a reinvented Pauly Shore show some maturity and growth while he tried to work on a new act/gimmick/routine OR we would witness a complete train wreck.

Crash.

The show started with Pauly stumbling to the stage, smashed out of his mind. He couldn't quite stand up straight. His eyes were half closed. People screamed in admiration as Pauly put his arms in the air and basked in the screams of people who recognized him. He then spent the next ten minutes asking us if we were all friends. Then he took a bit of a darker turn and talked about how, "I made five movies and then what the hell happened to me? I'm stuck here in Waterloo, IA (he was in Cedar Falls) in the freezing cold."

I'm not sure why he found it a good idea to insult his audience. I'm also not sure why he found it a good idea to come to the stage with seemingly no act prepared other than the slurred words of a fallen fraternity brother. He lamented on not being able to find work in Hollywood. He complained about not being married. He kept talking about stuff that is a little too disgusting to be repeated in this blog. He didn't seem to know where he was and kept rambling until a blond waitress went in front of the stage and wanted to take his picture. He then called her on the stage and started to awkwardly pet her hair and talked about her in ways that probably made her proud to be a woman trying to earn money in a bar that already objectifies her.

He wasn't entirely terrible. Once he started to sober up on stage and once his act turned towards actual storytelling instead of shouting out past accolades, he earned some legitimate laughs. He continued to talk about how he wished he was still loved, but it stopped being as desperate as the night continued.

Three of the four people in this picture are content and happy.

The next day at work I recapped the event with one of the guys I went with. We talked about how it was interesting to see a former celebrity, way past his glory days, wishing his life had turned out differently. We then wondered what would be better, having a few year period of fame, being on top of the world, or having a nice, sustained life with a wife that loves you and friends that actually want to be with you? Pauly clearly still yearns for the fame. He tasted the top once and knows he'll probably never get there again. He seemed lonely, sad. It doesn't appear that simply filling the void with a "normal life" is working for Pauly. After we talked about our lives and compared them to Pauly's, the guy I talked to said, "I'd rather have my life." I agreed.