Chapter 34 Gold Driller

Chapter 34

Gold Driller

Joshua never cared for dentists. He didn’t care if they were oral surgeons like his ex-girlfriend’s father despite his keg of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale on tap at his house, because birthing the only Irish lassie in Westwood who couldn’t handle her beer or booze made it a wash. Plus, Joshua resented the standard smug stable, pseudo brainy, neat, never too taxing 9 to 5, assistant organized existence of dentists. They never made a cold call in their life. They never had parents who shit on their dreams from start to finish. They never had to endure passive aggressive insults from their wife’s blah breathed friends at wedding with lines such as, “So you’re hosting a podcast. At least, you have a creative outlet to express yourself.” At the same time no dentist had to bite their lip for the sake of radical civility at their wife’s best friend wedding in upstate New York, as the same girl gives you grief for drinking a seltzer at the bar in splendid isolation away from his kids for a change, only to hear, “Feel free to join the party any time.” Boy did Joshua grow to hate resistor liberal, fucking fatties from New Jersey. He’d father face fuck a trailer girl with no teeth from the backwoods of West Virginia. At least, she’d could instruct him on the difference between powdery cocaine to sniff versus Crystal Meth.

There was also a pseudo ex friend from high school, who was apart of his pink crew who became a Dentist in DC. Joshua was happy for him, but Phil had a streak of funny in him, winning wittiest over Joshua in high school, senior year compared to Joshua’s win for grooviest, an award invented in his honor, but losing out to Phil still pissed him off. But really pissed Joshua off, besides Phil never being responsible for making Joshua laugh out loud on any consistent basis ever, was him not taking any creative chances with his life become another fucking dentist in his life, after attending college at Washington University with Joanna and Ari, from his senior class, whose carbon copies quotes of What A Strange Trip’s It’s Been, on their respective senior year book pages, failed to project much NPR group think originality either. The same dentist, once inferring Joshua be more a behind the scenes guy, after bumping into him on Metro North after telling him about his 2-year pursuit into stand-up comedy. Some of his meat head, football playing buds from high school, always thought he overreacted to this assertion, of Joshua being a more behind the scenes type of guy. This fake news deep dentist could go fuck himself long time in Joshua’s eyes. You score a call back for Paul Mooney sketchy comedy show, showcase the balls to approach Richard Pryor’s best friend and only joke writer, who never went out of his way, to suck off whitey ever and get back to Joshua on your ball free, zero imagination, gunky teeth cleaning existence on what actual star power you’re capable of exuding to see emanate inside and out through others who got it, moron. Its not’s that Joshua was jealous of the hefty, paycheck dentists received or normalized respect their profession engendered. He just hated members of his tribe who were Dentists, who acted like your bud, who promised to read your books and review them on Amazon, who never did. Comedians as a whole hate two faced hypocrisy like so called non-violent liberals insisting ANTIFA wasn’t a terrorist organization, deeming them an instrument of good, despite them throwing bags of piss at cops, concrete milkshakes at gay journalists who have a bi-line for the National Review or set fire to US military recruitment offices in Berkley, because big bad Ben Shapiro is in town, to give another boring, grating speech on how to own liberals in a debate, despite him being the least threatening Jew in America next to Chelsea’s Clinton’s neutered hub. Joshua was fed up with east coast, racist calling, elitist conjuring bullshit. Caring was emoting in his honor and if you made an effort to devalue his potential with gain with, you’re writing the Great American Jew Novel with so, you’re were off the list, meaning off the list of people, he gave 2 shits with impressing at this stage of his life 3 unplanned kids later, raising his kids all by himself, as grandparents on both side, continued to watch CNN for only fiancé news. Yeah, and Joshua only watched Real Time with Bill Maher for his bible study group.

Joshua loved to read the Weird But True books to his kids at night, especially to his 9 year old daughter Matilda, who took a special interest them also, despite her constantly busting her dada’s balls for reading more books of fiction because the Godfather by Mario Puzzo didn’t count. Last night, Joshua was reading to Matilda the Weird But True fact about how human start shrinking after 40 but Joshua was no 43 going in 44 and felt like he continued to grow in comedic stature and actual height in real life. Every time, he’d see his old buds for a game of stick ball, despite them being products of the comfy confines of Westchester Country versus the more hardcore, brick laden surroundings of the boogie down Bronx, they’d comment, “Joshua you’re enormous. Then, Joshua would air out a football and they’d started hailing their old bud as someone who could’ve been the second coming of Vinnie Testeverde. But Joshua’s yoga improved posture and core exercise regiment involving a daily use of kettle bells and arm planks on his yoga mat in his downstairs garage work out sanctuary, daily morning prayer space only played a surface level contribution to his enhanced physical and spiritual growth, enabling him to grow closer to God every day, yeah, yeah. The other side to Joshua’s hypergrowth during his time in the wilderness here in Croton Falls, NY hosting his podcast and writing his joke heavy books from home in their comedy grant house on the most northern point of Westchester Country, God’s country in his eyes, enveloped by one pristine, water spritzing reservoir or glistening lake after another, was the searing growing pains associated with acknowledging he had outgrown the need or want of adulation from those he once considered his closest alleys, friends, or past believers in him, namely his wife. He didn’t want to hear about the questionable news sources he read from anymore. He didn’t want to her so, couldn’t have done this and that, but I was just joke when I said I hated him. He didn’t want to hear Americans were stupid anymore. He didn’t want to hear negative, downer, hysteria, hate driven drivel on social media anymore. He didn’t want to ease his kid’s developing anxiety anymore, because Mama equated a substandard tooth brushing job, to kids dying of eventual, premature plague covered heart failure. He didn’t want to hear his wife actually explain what amber alert was to kids in full fucking detail. He didn’t want his kids to feel they were in constant competition with their mama’s fucking Instagram anymore. He was done acting like he card to be charming around his mother-in-law whenever he was graced with her presence again, just because she send her grandchildren another belated birthday card 2 months after the fact, while only using more stamps of the Virgin Mary in the middle of fucking summer. Joshua outgrew the need to give 2 shits about understanding the nuances of English worshiping football, because watching it still bored him to death. Joshua was sick of hearing his English born and raised, father in law on how George Washington was nothing but a lucky general while George Harrison was underappreciated, wordsmith genius, despite possessing the riveting personality of a Mitt Romney’s power red, private equity tie collection. Joshua was tired of pretending his wife was uncomfortable with him teaching Solomon’s Song of Songs for his own version of weekend Hebrew School, because of her own non-believer status. Joshua was tired of hearing the line, I didn’t even know I was pregnant 5 months later, for those joyless, humorless, women in die hard, support of 3rd term abortion. Joshua was tired of putting PETA, NPR, ESPN, EPA and Nancy Denture Breath Pelosi, on any so-called elevated pedestal of any kind. Joshua was also tired of drilling for comedy gold with all his funny man Jewish fighting might only to have Republicans who live to own liberals, deride his edgy, in your face, bombastic showmen style as mere crazy, over the rainbow, certainly gone swimming. Joshua was tired of pretending his dear New York City wasn’t turning into a piss sprayed, weed stinking, glamor stripped shithole fast. Joshua had outgrown the limited, provincial, so called enlightened New Yorkers adopted or native born of his past, who zero respect for heart felt patriotism, our troops, cops or masterful ball busting and high-level salesmanship done good. Joshua was tired of pretending his mama didn’t hate him for serving lady laugh despite no clear pay day in sight. Joshua was tired of acting like he didn’t want to mount a sexy, chesty, older, Jewish babe or not, with ravenous delight, who cared enough to emote in his honor, intent on draining him dry in the most primal, non-fighting about the same bullshit again sense possible. This slut in a straight jacket, needed to break free from his rusty cage in pursuit of toner, sexier, more loving arms fast. But Joshua was a family man and couldn’t wreck his marriage because his sweaty sex period with his wife was over. Plus, the idea of any of male figure raising his kids killed him fast. Still, it didn’t mean Joshua couldn’t get his hardcore flirt on, flex with his magnetic might around those fetching, older, Jewish or not loving babes, who could be the dreamy fill in Jewish Godmother MILF for his kid while making his wife get jealous and more appreciative of just his children being so wonderful due to his handy work so far. But as Joshua always pounded into his kids craniums, money equals freedom and it was time to get this Do It All Hero Food Truck on the road to Kansas City for the World Series of Barbeque championship, to test market their star Kosher smoked brisket, plant based cheese wiz hero. But first Joshua needed to partner with a star Chabad hipster in Crown Heights 1st.

Chapter 33 The Jewish Super Angel

 Chapter 33

 

The Jewish Super Angel

 

Growing up conservative Jewish in Edgemont, NY, Joshua was never entirely comfortable around Angel ornaments of any kind. For example, when his wife’s best friend got his daughter Matilda fairy wings for Christmas one year, insisting she try them on immediately, lead to Joshua freaking out instantaneously, stating, “Take the fairy wings off my daughter now. She looks like an overdose at the Limelight waiting to happen.”  The Limelight was an abandoned church turned into a clubby, rolling paradise throughout the late early 80’s, mid 90’s, making Macaulay Culkin look like a rapidly aging, embalmed, cadaver in fairy wings in the movie Party Animal, draining him of any old school, age of innocence charm left.

 

You would think Joshua’s mother from Louisville, Kentucky converting to Judaism would make him a tad less tense around angels on Christmas Trees, without feeling the need to deride some Christmas trees as, “too overtly churchy.” It didn’t help knowing his father would constantly shoot down his mom’s requests to get a Christmas tree every year during the holiday season, because they already had Christmas Stockings full of clementines and they put Christmas gifts from their relatives down south on the piano, nobody ever played.  Randy Newman piano playing, Jewish pride was devoid in this Kornbluth household on Glenwood Rd.  Every year, Joshua would push on his mom’s behalf, sticking up to his dad for a change back then saying, “Dad, get mom a tree already. She only abandoned her relationship with her lord and savior Jesus Christ to marry into your putzy DNA. It’s the least you can do, don’t you think? Dad says, “Joshua, Jews don’t buy Christmas Trees, unless they convert into a Tree House and flip it for a profit.”

Finally, Joshua’s dad relented one year, but only allowed the placement of a dwarfish scrubby bush within the cob webbed laden corner of the darkened, inside side porch. Still, Joshua marrying a gentile, did his best to get more comfortable in Church, even taken his 3 kids to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral during the holiday season, to ask God for a favorable review from the NY Post after he got the book editor there interested enough to give his debut book, Controlling My Kids With A Comedy, A Love Story, a read.  Joshua never heard back from the NY Post editor yet Hail Mary’s only work for Doug Flutie. Also, Joshua didn’t perceive a glowing review from a book editor at the NY Post, as an act of God in need of a miracle, because the all mighty was already channeled through the book, flush with A plus jokes and poetic prose, enough to give King David who first became famous as a big time singer songwriter musician, sustained stiffage long time.  But in Church, Joshua made it clear to his kids, “Just address prayers to God and not Jesus, and your still Kosher in the Old Testament’s book. Bill Maher could give a shit either way. “

 

Joshua had starting brushing up on angel literature, learning Joshua was Moses’s number one assistant, which is more daunting than the last one working for Harvey Weinstein trying to secure a meeting with a new hot actress on his old casting couch at the Four Seasons. Joshua decided to give the Hebrew name Jeremiah for his son Arthur Morrison Kornbluth, because he wrote the Book of Lamentations. And Joshua was always a huge Hair Metal power ballad guy, whose songs similar to the Book of Lamentations were always sorrowful but full out poetic longing and fleshed out feeling. Later, Joshua gave his son Samuel the Hebrew name Isaac, Yitzhak in Hebrew literally,  which Joshua loved because even the Koran gave Issac props, granting him immunity from ever being charged with intentional Islamophobia. And if Joshua were to rank the best prophets on Ranker, he’d put Isaac in the top 5 after Moses, and Abraham and King David, knowing he was no minor side character like the Tim Meadows of prophets, because he was the grandfather behind the 12 tribes of Israel. Nostradamus wouldn’t make Joshua’s list of top prophets on Ranker because he converted to Catholicism, so he wouldn’t be lumped together with all those dirty, crumb hoarding, Christian blood eating, ratty looking  Jews, for being the main culprits behind proliferating the fucking Plague, how convenient.

 

Now, Joshua was buzzing with heady anticipation knowing he destroyed during his audition for the family friendly Porsche SUV campaign, as he sipped his Macchiato at a swanky, modern, high tin ceiling covered coffee shop in the West Village; which could belong in Park Slope, Brooklyn if it ever attracted stylish, zero frump, 8 plus trim and above.  Joshua addresses the Barista who made the Macchiato at the coffee bar after he savors another sip, “Phenomenal Macchiato, it’s the most hydrating, non-burnt Macchiato I ever had in my life outside of Melbourne, Australia. I just feel like a moron for having to fly 5 million miles across the globe at 35 years to finally try a Macchiato for the 1st time in my life during my honeymoon in Australia. After dropping 2 Ambien and 2 mini servings of Jack before good night Irene on Quantas, farting up fumes of clam chowder from our layover in San Fran prior. The Macchiato is a circumcised Cappuccino, with half the foamage in my book. I wanted to marry my wife in Australia in Mother’s Beach in Victoria, where she grew up for a bit, yet my mom calls me on the phone one day and says, “Australia is a long flight from New York and your father doesn’t love you that much.” And I said, “Mom, just tell dad to drop another Ambien to sleep on the plane, which won’t be a radical departure from him doing the same at home after work on the couch for another 6 hours stretch at a time.   Finally, I reached a compromise with my wife, I said, “If we have a boy, instead of hiring a Rabbi for the circumcision, we’d hire Crocodile Dundee, just so we could hear a roomful of Jews, say, “Now that’s a knife. You can chop it all off with that thing.” The grey Canali draped Jewish Super Angel, sporting a black power CAA power tie, finishes laughing, “Shouldn’t you be performing at the Cellar or at Caroline’s on Broadway? Your delivery is even better than the A plus material itself.”

“Joshua perks up immediately, turns his body toward the Jewish Super Angel and says, “Thank you very much. I appreciate the praise long time. I’m actually banned from the Comedy Cellar for going over my allotted time by 5 hours after getting the one minute warning sign to wrap it up, only 2 minutes into my killer set showcasing killer Heather Mills material, only after I invited  my own well-paying private militia. Taunting management, with that actual militia line, didn’t make management there hate me any less either. I did audition for the New York Comedy Festival and for a reality show titled America’s Next Great Roaster at Caroline’s, after an older comic gave me the idea to audition; who used to attend an open mike I hosted in the downstairs of a belly dancing, Moroccan restaurant along bumble fuck, most derelict slab of real estate remaining in Manhattan, on the corner of 99 cent pizza store on 40th and 10th. My roast subject was Justin Timberlake. I said,”Justin Timberlake is like George Michael, he sings, dances and sucks.” I also sampled some Park Slope stroller mom material. I said, “Do kids in Park Slope make your mama so stupid jokes about Stroller moms in Park Slope like your mama’s so dumb she can’t complete the crossword puzzle in the Monday New York Times? That joke is so elitist, Hillary just got moist for the 1st time in years. “The Jewish Super Angel finishes laughing and says, “Yeah, I hate that evil wench also. Remember, when it took her 5 times to get her MetroCard to work? Joshua says, “I do. With the all camera crews hovering around her, Hillary says to herself before swipe number 5, super predators, I mean black people are watching. You can do it.  Nice Windsor not, add that to my never ending learn how to do list.”  The Jewish Super Angel says, “You mean Seinfeld hasn’t done an entire laugh free, Driving in Cars episode on the subject with George Lopez yet?”  Joshua says, “I just read about Jerry selling one of his porches at a charity function in the Hamptons. I just hope half those proceeds went to Larry’s kids.” The Jewish Super Angel says, “What brings you to the West Village? Joshua says, “I just finished an audition to become the new family spokesperson for the new line Porsche Cayenne SUV’s. I could use the startup money for my Kosher food truck business, selling the Do It All Dad Hero, the first ever Kosher Cheesesteak truck, made with Kosher smoked Brisket and a plant-based cheese wiz. I got a Kosher cheese wiz master working on the recipe for the wiz right now, who graduated John Hopkins before I could complete my untimed SAT. The Jewish Super Angel says, “Take my card, consider me your Jewish Super Angel. I invest in startups for a living. But what I really invest in is people. Ashton Kutcher stole that line from me for the record.” Joshua says, “I’ll be in touch in then. Played Ashton Kutcher in a game of pick up ball at Fairfax High School once. He looked way prettier than Demi Moore when I saw her in person outside the Century City movie theater. She had a droopy, elongated, stretchy neck and the figure of undeveloped, 12 year-old boy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 32 Another Blind Date Audition

Chapter 32

Another Blind Date Audition 

 

Joshua hated big tech companies like Facebook because they made baby boomer grandparents the laziest grandparent generation of all time. Lifting a finger is liking a picture.  His out of state in-laws in Delaware adopting a rescue dog named Heidi, 3 grandchildren later didn’t make him hate Facebook any less, knowing his 3 kids would have to compete for attention with the ugly runt Heidi the terrible now. Also, Joshua being fully aware of his in-laws never being a huge fan of his people, despite the fake news claim, they had Jewish friends, bullshit. Oh yeah and the dad liked Mel Brooks films, so that excuses his hack, Jewish cheap jokes despite him spending more on Heidi’s doggy daycare than he ever did for 3 grandchildren. Never to let any funny man observation go to waste, Joshua made more comedic art from his life and delivered this joke gem on his Do It All Dad Year Podcast episode, Grandparent Bad Manners,  “Kids are asleep, and I tell my wife on the couch, “So The Good Men Project is going to republish 15 of my blogs. Wife replies, “What are they paying you for it?  I said, “Less than your parents give us, so nothing.”

Joshua hated Skype also because his retired parents in Scottsdale, Arizona couldn’t even dress up for the occasion to do a Skype call with their grandchild Matilda, before they had 2 additional grandchildren to dress up for, although one Skype call was enough.  During the Skype call, his dad was sporting the same pair of ashy tennis slacks from 86. His mothers’ hair was all tussled, looking like she’d been up late to catch those money shot tax reveals on Uni Brow Maddow. Joshua couldn’t complain too much about Twitter because he used it as his open mike for 3 years hard, becoming the joke writing animal machine he is today. Which made it easier for him to stomach becoming a shadowbanned comedian on the site, meaning the hate speech police would actively hide his jokes from being seen more than putz face Palmer Report, because he’d made fun of Lebron’s persecution complex and Obama’s overrated legacy of good accomplishments like rebranding ISIS, ISIL so they’d sound more startup friendly in the NY Times.

Apple pissed Joshua off because making fun of radical ISLAM didn’t win him any curator fans up in Cupertino, either.  On his Do It All Dad Year Podcast he didn’t hold back one bit, launching into another far from edgeless routine, “Enough with ISIS being such a good recruiters. All they do is target other lonely virgins on What’s App, who wish their phone blew up.  And why is radical Islam so into piercing Virgins? Doesn’t radical Islam have enough blood on their hands already? Last, if you fire 700 rockets into Israel’s backyard, don’t expect an Edible gift basket in return, with a thank you note full of happy face pineapples written in Farsi.  162 episodes into his Do It All Dad Year Podcast, Joshua expected to have his podcast listed under new and notable already, despite his 3-year podcast no longer being so new anymore. But stats don’t lie and 7500 plus downloads for Joshua screamed, you better recognize bitch, that’s more icky, we all look alike Brits who can fill Royal Albert Hall. Are you mental Apple or what? Don’t get confused,. Joshua didn’t care about following the great Bill Hicks footsteps and becoming a big swinging, sucked off dick in London town. His only illustrious goal, was to become  a semi-long lasting big deal entertainer writer host success within the Island of Manhattan, the city of his birth, “my city”,  as Walt Whitman called the beautiful, jagged, concrete jungle in his day. Especially knowing, Joshua would enrage his 9-year-old daughter again, whenever his allotted TV hang out time with his family was relegated to another Harry Potter film, he didn’t want to see again, always leading Joshua to shout out, “It’s too many English accents in one film for my taste, sorry.”

As Joshua signed his name on the audition sheet for the new Porsche Cayenne SUV, it was impossible to not think of the various annoying exchanges he had with Executive Creative Directors in his city in the past, like George whatever his name at Ogilvy and Mather, for agreeing to an informational meeting, after Joshua emailed him an inspired interview with his daughter’s stuffed unicorn. But this informational meeting with an Executive Creative Director big shot never happened, because he refused to reschedule and Joshua couldn’t make the stand alone, ordained meeting because Joshua had no local friends, grandparents or babysitting resources at the time and that was that.  Then, there was the comedy commercial director who worked for lesser name ad agencies, who did listen to his debut comedy CD, Resist This, only to hear back, “I don’t see a market for this but I think you knew that already.” Sure, Joshua only killed himself for 15 plus years, socially alienating himself to family and ex friends at large, as he holed himself up in his various writing and podcast hosting offices, in his attempt to write blogs, books, pilots and spec TV scripts 3 kids later to achieve a mastery of craft and earn the right to get paid as a creative professional and be more than another cold calling, schmuck in a headset agency recruiter again, to just piss off his father.  Who derided his stabs at making it as a stand up comedian as cute, despite never attending or requesting to see him perform in a show ever, got it.  Ok, maybe that was part of it.

Still, comedians hate it when others try to censor their off the cuff personality or be told to calm down or to have their guts and soul spilled onto  page after page as mere, offspring brain drippings.  Also, Joshua never bought into the argument, parents who to don’t encourage their children’s show biz ambitions, are just trying to mentally prepare them for inevitable failure, when the ability to score treasured, sought after laughs, was so important to Joshua, making him feel extra unique, confident, assertive, fearless, and a highly functional as his laugh hitting streak was reaching Pete Rose proportions with Ty Cobb fucking batting averages.  God has only so many God given gifts to spare, and the gift of comedic song, was what he gave Joshua, which made him feel less like an all over the place Jew like the one who still wasn’t very good at smoking weed, 2 decades later, still rolling more tight,, drool laden hit joints than Slaterson from Dazed and Confused did in the 5th grade Home EC.

 

As Joshua checked out his competition waiting for their audition for the new family friendly, Porsche SUV campaign he also thought of time he scored a commercial agent in LA, took a commercial acting class as instructed, only to ask out the 2 hottest girls in his glass by far, one was a tall, chesty, tan Greek heiress, classy guidet type and the other of shorter, far prettier faced, pure blondie doll, who looked like a 10 with no makeup on guaranteed, only to learn they were both married. It never occurred to a late twenty something Joshua to look for fucking wedding rings on ladies in his commercial acting class at the teacher’s home in fucking Toluca Lake for that matter.

And how could Joshua forget the Jew fro happy, Disco Dan, he was in the same audition waiting room with before his super funny addition landing him a role on Blind Date? Joshua’s older guaranteed laugh getter to start of a set was, “So far my claim to fame was my appearance on Blind Date. All I got out of it was a free meal and herpes. For our 1st activity, which they never aired, my date, who was a -5 by upstate New York standards, from Buffalo actually, gave the producers permission to shoot her mountain of muff get waxed for the occasion. She had been growing it out for the big wax for some time, because it looked like a pile of Brillo pads, stacked on top a busted slinky. Later, to wrap up the date back at her place, after drinking some piss warm, 2 buck Chuck Charles Shaw, my date asks me if I want to kiss her and I say with zero hesitation, “Why not? I’ve already seen your pussy.”

No, Joshua would not pussy out today, he would go for the jugular just like he did 15 years on Blind Date to entertain his then closer friends back east from Edgemont High School, who kept his Blind Date episode on TIVO for years and years later. But this time he’d have to force himself to stick to the overpaid copywriter so so script because imposing his own crazy man cowboy spin with such big time stakes in the air, 3 unplanned kids was over. The comedy gold mobile he craved as a validation for all his hard work and unrelenting self-belief was palpable, he could taste the high-end leather interior. It would be a giant fuck you for anyone who ever doubted his train was bound for comedic glory.  Joshua gives himself a last minute pep talk before his name is called, “Suck your ego in asshole and show a semblance of mechanical, plotted out organizational, preparedness exactness for once in your life and the Krauts at Porsche SUV will it eat with a spoon. If they ask, you polish your own boots, not some random Guatemalan at Grand Central, who you tip a 5 spot, regardless of what shine job, they produce. Last, if you do engage in small talk, mention your fondness for Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 and Charles Bukowski poems about woman in high heels knocking on his door and you’ll be finally made in the shade.”

 

Chapter 31 She Lip Syncs Grace

Chapter 31

She Lip Syncs Grace

She was the funniest, sweetest, most stylish, bighearted sister Joshua never had.  And with 2 younger brothers to entertain and care for, he’d be screwed without her. Matilda most resembled her daddy, inspiring Joshua to call her his funnier, infinitely sweeter twin, whose DNA was all over her face. When Matilda got her yellow belt in Kung Fu, her 2 younger, adoring brothers bombarded her from both sides, enveloping Big Beat within a circle of love, no amount of bitterness, jealousy or envy could infiltrate. Most siblings in life, fought constantly, always belittled, bullied, never got each other birthday gifts, who only showed compassion or the tiniest flicker of understanding if it advanced their own lying, self-interest advancing agenda. No, Joshua was hellbent on teaching his 3 unplanned kids the importance of always being picker uppers, instead of passive aggressive, bitchy, blatantly disrespectful, degenerate, thoughtless, indifferent discourager belittlers, or else his family of 5 would become another distant, fake news close, favorite treating family like the rest. No, Joshua, refused to allow this depressing, easily avoidable reality to unfurl on his watch or else he’d die a Do It All Dad bust, a deplorable fraud, a fake news good guy educator of the most meh, hacky order.

Joshua put together a Ted Talk, titled, Joy Is Not Bombing At Parneting, which is growing closer to your children through humor, versus your children growing father apart to the point, where they don’t want to seek out your company once they can afford to move out the house on their own. The last time Joshua had taken his 3 kids to the big city to check out this Gingerbread House creation in Gramercy Park during the month of December, also pointing  out all the sleek, art deco architecture, which made this beautiful corner of Manhattan so sleek, old world beautiful, soulful stylish in Joshua’s eyes. Along the way, his son Arthur at 5 years old spotted an overpass, connecting bridge between 2 buildings by the Credit Suisse corporate headquarters building in New York City, prompting his pitch perfect boy to declare with the most prideful oomph imaginable, “When I get older, I want to live there in the building across from you daddy.” So, Joshua wasn’t feeling like a colossal bust of a dad, suffering from anxiety over bombing at parenting just yet.

Matilda Rose Kornbluth was born off the historic Hudson River at Phelps Memorial with a set a full hair, thank God. Joshua gives thanks and praises to God on his Do It All Dad Year Podcast for not making his precious daughter Matilda, a bald one out of the womb, stating, “Truth is, bald babies are gross. They always have an indentation on their never-ending bald spot, looking like they got dropped on an anvil one too many times. Either that, or Nurse Jackie dropped the bald kid because she was all out of methadone and couldn’t control her shakes. When Joshua and Anna used to live in Astoria Queens, nearby the Queensbridge projects, Joshua heard a gunshot in broad daylight, the 2nd day she was home in their apartment, which gave them all the motivation to get the hell of the sloppy 3rd borough already, regardless if Michelle Obama deemed the move a racist one or not.

When she was 1 years old, Joshua was living in Delaware with his wife, their newborn daughter sweet Matilda and his in-laws temporarily, waiting on the Warner Brothers fellowship program, to accept him into their prized TV writing fellowship already, based on the sheer strength of his super punchy, highly imaginative East Bound and Down script, Cooperstown or Bust, inspired by the impending birth of his Daughter Singing Rose Matilda at time, which made Joshua think at the time getting into the writing program was his birthright and meant to be. It wasn’t. Still, the story of Kenny Powers trying to push his woman April into having an abortion because he a dream of his future daughter becoming the most dominant, Lesbian lusting, heat throwing softball pitcher of all time. Who would overshadow his legacy, making him the old man, bitchy, starless in comparison, version of Bobby Bonds, from the Bonds family. Regardless if Bobby bedded Josephine Baker after Willie Mays snagged her 1st or not. Back then, Joshua had some back up plans, such as putting together a creative copywriting portfolio, including a picture of Kenny Powers from East Bound and Down with an American flag, worn like a cape, making wild man, pushing an imaginary’s woman’s head down toward his super soaker blaster section with his hands, including the caption above, which read, “All Men Can’t Be Created Equal.” Big sisters aren’t created either, because on Goodreads.com, the quotes on sisterhood are less gripping than Tina Fey’s takes on motherhood and how smirking is a bigger strain than usual.

The other ad Joshua coined, which was rudimentary word play, but impossible to forget, included Matilda playing with the I-Pad, as the caption above read, “Tap Into Your Potential.” Joshua also undertook a colossal historical fiction project, creating 50 Brewery Origin Stories for 50 US States, creating a backstory for each star brewer and star brew creation, later morphing into 13 Original Brewery Tales for The 13 Original Colonies. So, even though Joshua was living with his in-laws on a temporary basis, before they moved back to his parents’ house, after only 1 month max. Because the mom couldn’t handle sharing any control over her kitchen, while calling her son in law “pathetic” in the process. Joshua still wasn’t out for the count or drained creatively, just yet. Soon after, Anna, Joshua and Female Flash, Matilda, moved into his grandma’s old apartment in Scarsdale Village, which was a fable like time. Granted, Joshua was still an out  of work new business development rep, agency journey man recruiter, with only a 3rd place Recommended Writer win for his 30 Rock spec script, the Kings of Comedy accolade win under his creatively jacked belt. But his wife nurse wife Anna was working in Manhattan on the Upper East now, at a highly respectable hospital, allowing Joshua write his Heavy Metal High pilot trilogy, before finally scoring his TV writing break with VH1 Classic in Manhattan, writing all of the mostly glam and thrash metal video intro homages host reads for WWE great Chris Jericho, giving this wannabe do it all dad a perm a grin from ear to ear, stretching, ten miles wide. Whipping around his 3-year-old daughter around their one-bedroom apartment to Lita Ford’s Kiss Me Deadly video was a Heavy Metal High, Joshua would cherish in his love imprinted heart forever. It didn’t matter, his mother in law refused to watch any of the countdown when she visited once, to plug in a toy Christmas Tree, because Jesus loves us, even Jews who don’t believe the original super Jew preacher, was the Messiah, and “she didn’t care for that type of music.” Nor did Joshua’s super Catholicism pushing mother in law care to emote about anyone but her own daughter’s accomplishments, to defend her own parenting whenever Joshua would expand upon another star chapter addition to his daughter’s kick ass life in the making. During a recent dinner in their Shabbat celebrating, every Friday night, Jewish home, his Jewish daughter lip synced  a grace as her Ukrainian catholic pushing grandmother pressured her into participating, as usual. Soon after Joshua announces at the dinner table, “Hey, Grandma, did you know Matilda’s 2nd grade teacher confessed to wanting to clone her for future generational students if possible? I know cloning wasn’t mainstream technology back in the day but did your daughter ever receive a similar compliment of such awesome, pride swelling magnitude you’d like to share?

During a trip to Scottsdale, Arizona, Joshua is having a brew with wife Anna and her old nurse pal, who she became friends with working in the same hospital in Manhattan, commented, “Matilda, is your Jewish mother, guardian protector Joshua.” Understand, Heather is a hardcore take no shit Italian gal from Long Island, who was now transplanted in Arizona with her husband and 3 kids. But also really got into crystals, palm readings, becoming a developing subject matter expert on mystical vibrational connections along the way.  Plus, Joshua being familiar with this chakra type speak based on his experience of almost going broke, spending a mini-fortune on a psychic on Beverly Blvd. on the outskirts of West Hollywood, who said he was destined for big time writer success at much earlier age. But something terrible went wrong with the universe and Joshua needed to purify his self-esteem battered, mo money needing chakras fast. Still, it was impossible for Joshua to not absorb the absolute truthiness of his 1st unplanned born, Matilda Shoshana Kornbluth, being his destined, Jewish mother nurturer, encourager bashert of the highest order. Matilda knew her daddy wasn’t a lazy brain who half assed fatherhood. Matilda knew Daddy was the one most concerned about getting a day job outside from home, fearing mama would bore the kids to death.

Now, Matilda would shoot down jobs her Do It All Dada was entertaining like an all knowing, female super-agent for ICM Sue Mengers, whose close friend Bette Midler played on Broadway. She’d say, “Daddy, I don’t know like this job, you creating content for a VR company. Virtual Reality is boring Daddy. You just sit there and stare at your hands all day. It’s a total time suck and waste of your precious talent daddy.” And daddy, why are you creating a demo reel for the QVC? All they do is hock schmatta Jewelry on that show Dada. If you’re going to be a commercial spokesperson and less crazy Eddy, you need to represent a more luxurious product daddy, like the Porsche SUV. And just to prove my point, I already sent one of our old commercial reels for your old creative tech staffing firm, Stand Up Staffer, Been Talent Hooking since Y2k. Well, I sent the demo reel Blond Ambition commercial for Stand Up Staffer, where I wear a blond wig and say, “But I thought only ugly girls go to coding boot camp.” Anyway, I had a power tea meeting over Skype with Ester and got her to email the demo to the Creative Director for Porsche SUV in NY. Your audition is tomorrow at 3, someplace in Gramercy on Broadway. I’ll email you all the details. I know mama is working tonight and will be sleeping tomorrow during the audition,. So all you have do is take baby Samuel to Esther’s office, on Madison, which is only a 2-minute walk from the audition site. Apparently, Ester’s executive search firm Silicon Alley,  has an in-house day care center, that teaches coding for toddlers. So, Baby Samuel will be able to tap into his inner nerd,  or to learn if it even exists in no time.” Daddy says, “You’re the best big sister ever.” Matilda says, “You forget to mention talent agent Dada. Now start rehearsing your lines daddy. I just emailed them to you to doitalldadyear@outlook.com  Remember less crazy eddy, and more commercial friendly this time Dada. Open mike time is over. They’re looking for a handsome family fan face. Whose not going to start making jokes about Lebron James getting the idea to sport cast from Michelle Obama after she threatened to break her arm in Obama’s ass, if he ever offered Beyoncé Paul Newman’s Lemonade over her homemade Kombucha again, got it.”

Chapter 30 Second City Envy

Chapter 30

Second City Envy

A native New Yorker like Joshua, who only grew up only 30 minutes north of Manhattan in the suburb of Edgemont, NY, should never have been jealous of the Second City in Chicago but he was. The Second City in his eyes, was a tougher city, given birth to Isiah Thomas, a huge theater town staging David Mamet plays up the wazoo, the Improv training ground for Belushi, Farley, John Candy and the Midwest muse for screenwriter director great John Hughes in addition being the breeding ground for electric blues, slide guitar greats who all inspired Jimi Hendrix to jack his guitar like there’s no tomorrow such as Muddy Waters, Albert King and Buddy, I made a guitar down south growing up as a share cropper’s son out of fucking, busted porch door Guyyy. Also, let’s not forget Joshua was a hardcore Knicks fan, so every winter growing up, he was left with no choice but to look up to MJ and Scottie Pippen in enraged awe as they lit up the Garden like the tree at Rockefeller Center every year, despite New York bred annilaters from Jamaica Queens such as Anthony, deltoids strong Mason, manhandling them in post whenever they took the ball to the hoop strong with all his, I can wrestle 20 NYPD cops down hard to the ground, without breaking a sweat while resisting arrest might.

The late great Bernie Mac hailed from sweet home Chicago, who Joshua admired for his hardcore suck up your ego jobs, like driving a Wonder Bread Truck throughout the south side of Chicago when he was an aspirational stand up comic, who hadn’t won the Miller High Lite Amateur Comic competition just yet. In particular, Joshua loved how Bernie Mac didn’t limit his joke slinging to just the mere open mike stage, turning the bus or subway in Chicago into his own performance space the way Dice would launch into his act before movies started playing in Westwood by UCLA, proving the “world is your stage” like Shakespeare said back in the day. Joshua adopted a similar approach since becoming an unplanned stay at home comedian, using his Do It All Dad Year Podcast, as a platform to perform his topical jokes on how Michelle Obama claims it was racist to flee the South Side of Chicago, acting as if the South Side of Chicago, always the city’s most violent part, was only 1 crepe food truck from Gentrification. Joshua would add, “Gentrification, you know liberal talk for less black people. The other day, I’m driving on the Deegan past the new Yankee Stadium and I point to my daughter, “Look Matilda, the new Yankee stadium, the house that gentrification built.” Joshua would also never shy away from sampling jokes at the local post office, where Joshua picked up his mail, aiming his comedic blasts on the Mayor of New York City, Mayor De-Blasio saying, “Did you know Mayor De-Blasio’s wife used to be a hardcore Park Slope Lesbo yet were supposed to believe Garlic Breath converted her? Also, the Mayor eats pizza with a fork and knife. So, you can really see Big Bird burying his beak into wife’s slippery snatch with such sloppy abandon? It sounds like a plausible theory to digest. Now, thanks to Mayor Putz Face, you can be fined 250 thousand dollars for using dehumanizing language on an illegal alien such as, “No speak English.” Whose translating these insults for Juan exactly? Now, an illegal alien in New York City gets a NY license to vote and a hate speech translator to bankrupt Apu at a Bodega in Flushing. And enough with banning ICE. Because homeland security was so weapons of mass destruction years. Last, on the anniversary of Amy Winehouse’s death, has Minnesota congressional rep Baby Face Omar referred to the anniversary has something happened to a beehive, horn hiding, Benjamin Lover who exploited the great Palestinian song book for all it was worth. Can I get a holla for a big time raising the roof, because I’m just getting started and you can only hope to contain him Challah?

Joshua also took Improv acting courses at Second City when he lived in LA, and got to inhale Harrison Ford’s assistant practically whole at a bar dark lit, bar in Korea town before David Chang got to drop f bombs for a living on the Food Network, coming off as super deep, enlightened cool in the process. Easily, Joshua’s most sexually arousing Karaoke bar performance was at a local Karaoke joint down the street in Korea Town, was when he performed the song Soul Man by Sam and Dave, getting the random girls in the audience quite sticky steamy in process, to the point where they were gyrating and shaking to his best Wilson Picket Man and a Half “It’s the other half, that knocks woman out. That’s why I’m a man and a half”, impression. Prior Joshua was used to sticking with his developing Baba O’Reiley rendition, including various jump heavy but still barely leaving the ground windmill guitar strumming kicks. But the Who’s most kick ass, recognizable, teenage wasteland homage song, didn’t rouse any of the ladies at the townie valley bar the Barrell, to get their sexual dance freak on, in attempt to win over his attention before either. In retrospect, Joshua realized he had what they call in show business, “stage presence.” But back then, Joshua was just doing Karaoke to get more comfortable performing in front of strangers to make bombing in front of various open mike audiences throughout Studio City, Santa Monica, West Hollywood and Venice Beach a tad worrisome laced daunting. In short, Joshua was forcing himself to become a less cerebral, worrisome, Jewy, neurotic bitch, really. At the same time, Joshua getting into Karaoke, performing songs, he loved like Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi or Roadhouse Blues by the Doors was a reflection of his inner rock star, in a desperate dash to break on through to other side because like Richard Belzer, known more his poker faced, dry as cotton mouth witticisms, on Law and Order Special Victims Unit, when he said, “All comedians, are frustrated rock stars.”

Joshua also attended Lake Forrest College for 2 years on the north shore of Illinois because he just wanted to get out of New York and try something new, but it really came down to him hooking up with some upper classman during his trip to the college, which influenced his decision the most. Joshua had an older, platonic friend, Shannon who had a place in downtown, Chicago, and he enjoyed getting his puff on with his other hippie buds down there plenty, yet what he really longed for was Chicago city life in bars and clubs such as Walter Payton’s, which closed at 1:30, which sucks out loud for any native New Yorker. For all the talk about how progressive LA is, the last call is even earlier at a hard 1. Plus, all the girls in Chicago, look like prettiest faces from Indiana, which is fine, but failed to give Joshua sustained stiffage during his time in the Midwest either. The energy of Chicago wasn’t on par with his dear Manhattan, not even close. It was impossible to not feel like an outsider when Joshua when to college for 2 years in the midwest, knowing it was the 1st time he developed a heightened awareness to Jews being a miniscule minority in this country at large, while most preferred to keep it that way. And boy could those Midwest girls drink. He used to party with these girls from Illinois who would haul a case a Bush light on each shoulder before hitting the bottle of Beam in honor of Kid Rock as the clock truck midnight to more Cheap Trick on the old school dorm CD player. and Joshua was no lightweight, accustomed to closing down bars at 4 in the morning back in Manhattan with his old school high school crew, never running out of breath as they maintained a steady steam of busting balls throughout. Still, did Joshua love Kayne West? Yes, but did he love Kayne more than the soulful, cinematic powered, lyricism of Notorious Big? Not even close. Did Joshua love Harold Ramis films like Ghost Busters and Ground Hog’s Day? Yes, but he’d watch most Woody Allen films before he learned he kept polaroids of Soon Yee in his top sock drawer, because the Time life photo of her wasn’t enough. Did Joshua revere bands who hailed from Chicago like the Smashing Pumpkins and Pearl Jam? Yes, but he revered bands such as shout it out loud Kiss, from Queens and the boogie Bronx even more. Bernie Mac was great in Joshua’s eyes, but he was no Chris Rock, Eddie, Dice, or Kennan Ivory Wayans for that matter. Overall, Joshua loved his New York heroes more because they exuded superior style, gravitas and larger than life charisma, only the Island of Manhattan engenders the most. The prettiest, sexist, most diverse collection of ladies populated the streets of SOHO, the West Village and parts of the Lower East Side in NOHO in his eyes. The only city he ever wanted to live in was Manhattan, not Chicago. Still, Manhattan could feel like a very lonely place at the bottom and Joshua wasn’t a big shot macher just yet. Still, Chicago represented the American heartland, which was important to Joshua, especially knowing that those working artists who strived and thrived in the Second City, compared to their more uppity, elitist New Yorker yenta breaths were tougher than the rest.

Chapter 29 The Path of Most Resistance

 

 

Chapter 29

The Path Of Most Resistance

 

Joshua never underwent Psychoanalysis.  Still, it didn’t take some fake news deep shrink who majored in Psychology at Tufts, to realize Joshua pursued the comedic pursuit of making strangers laugh for a living because being shipped off to sleep away camp in Kent, CT 3 months a year every summer, without any burning desire to attend, never gave him the impression of being the center of his parents universe.  It’s not as if Joshua was such a perpetual drag on his parent’s time after they came home from work. He’d hear them talk about their workdays over dinner and then retreat to his room to play with his blocks, bang his GI Joe toys together way past the appropriate age to do so, as he used to Gung Ho to turn Cobra Commander into his personal gimpy, bitch in his own innocuous, pubescent form of Pulp Fiction. When Joshua got a bit older, he’d organize his Basketball card collection, consisting of almost every rookie who played for the original USA Dream Team, MJ an the Bird, MJ combo rookie card excluded, because together they cost more than ounce of Maui Wowie. That’s so good, you take only one hit of delicious, crystal flecked green, watch the entirety of Pink Floyd Wall Sophomore Year in college and think you comprehended all the symbolic nuances from start finish, back when Roger Waters was more pro wall but no so much in Israel’s case to prevent more blatantly unnecessary death. Later, after Joshua in Junior High, he’d decorate the walls of his bedroom with an unoccupied top bunk, with cut out pictures of all his Hair Metal Gods from Circus Magazine, which included non-pretty boy faces such as the Freddy Kruger of shredding Mick Mars from Motely Crew. But sometime in the early 1990’s, Joshua’s parents decided to repaint his lost in fantasy island room. The Italian painter took one look at Joshua’s wailing wall of metal and says, “There’s a lot of dolled up men on your wall.” In Joshua’s Heavy Metal High pilot trilogy, which he pitched to the EVP of VH1 Classic in Manhattan, his character replies to the Italian painter with, “I’m sorry are blush covered cheeked Bret Michaels from Poison not manly enough for you Dominick I Ain’t No Fag Scholanti.”

Joshua would never forgive himself for letting his father bully him into inviting his friend Ari to see Motley Crew in the 6th grade at the Nassau Coliseum, during their revitalized, hit heavy Dr. Feelgood tour, with Warrant as the opening act, after promising his closer friend Coop, with his far deeper ties at the time.  Coop didn’t talk to Joshua for a solid 5 years afterwards and they hung out plenty in Elementary School, going to movies at Movieland in Yonkers all the time because Coop was an only child, whose parents were both Lawyers, at the same law firm, the father owned, so the could afford a pair of smoking hot, au pairs from Switzerland who tasted good inside and out guaranteed.  Coop was a mensch. Before he became a top realtor in Manhattan, he was the Nino Brown of weed dealing at Hartford University and would let Joshua’s younger brother, sell major weight for him back home and let him off the hook no problem if he was ever light 500 here, 800 bones there. Plus, when Joshua had his stand-up comedy bringer show at the New York Comedy Club, Coop’s presence among his high school class of 99 caused the biggest stir. Coop also delivered the most touching, emotive praise after Joshua’s friend Ari, who was still a mensch in his own right, simply stating in a stupefied, teetering on awe inspired state, “Awesome.” Coop approached Joshua outside the New York Comedy Club and said, “Great show, very funny stuff bro” with all knowing stony Buda assurance. Joshua replied, “Thanks Coop, but I’m still so broke my Hebrew name is under Judicial review.” Coop refused to give into Joshua’s feeble attempt at self-deprecation, which never captured his true funny man essence entirely and says, “Stick with it, you’re funny.”

Understand, this is more emotive encouragement Joshua ever received from his own flesh and blood, being his younger brother and 2 parents. But as they says, the 1st hilarious Bat Men Lego movie, you get to chose your friends, not your family and Coop’s push for Joshua to continue down the pursuit of getting Lady Laugh off long time was a noble pursuit worth fighting for with all this funny Jew bone, God blessed might.  Joshua developed a later in life, cast iron dense strong friendship with adopted valley brother Jay from Southern California, who knew the real him inside and out and gave him an even more rousing, inspirational, Mick type pep push from Rocky when he said, “Never lose your edge JK.”

 

Now, Joshua was 43 turning on 44, still pursuing the path of most resistance. His parents wouldn’t acknowledge his debut comedy record nor would his younger brother. Joshua’s wife claims to overhear portions of his Do It All Dad Year Podcast from downstairs because he’s such a loudmouthed, crazy man Jew, but 150 episodes in, had never listened to one from start to finish.   When Joshua had moved back from LA after living out there for 6 years, in West Hollywood, Hermosa Beach and Sherman Oaks in the valley, another old school high bud saw him do an open mike set at some shit hole bar east of Madison Square Garden in Midtown east, total no man’s land and he said with stupefied bewilderment, “You’d be ok with dying alone. You’re really in no rush to be in a relationship again ever.” The reality is, ever since Joshua fell in love with making Lady Laugh, laugh, he never felt alone again.  God didn’t give Joshua 3 unplanned kids to have panic attack over it. If Joshua was out with his 3 kids by themselves, which was often, a stranger would say, “You got three.” And he’d say, “All 3 were unplanned. Obviously, I never planned the art of the pump fake.” Then, Joshua would hear the same random stranger comment on how pretty his lucky number 3 Samuel is and he’d reply in a relaxed manner because he was accustomed to the unsolicited praise so often by now, “He’s a very pretty he. I envision a future where he’ll be fronting a Poison cover band no problem” These lines would generate streams of laughter every time. Joshua wasn’t ready to relinquish his God given edge just yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 29 The Path of Most Resistance

 

 

Chapter 29

The Path Of Most Resistance

 

Joshua never underwent Psychoanalysis.  Still, it didn’t take some fake news deep shrink who majored in Psychology at Tufts, to realize Joshua pursued the comedic pursuit of making strangers laugh for a living because being shipped off to sleep away camp in Kent, CT 3 months a year every summer, without any burning desire to attend, never gave him the impression of being the center of his parents universe.  It’s not as if Joshua was such a perpetual drag on his parent’s time after they came home from work. He’d hear them talk about their workdays over dinner and then retreat to his room to play with his blocks, bang his GI Joe toys together way past the appropriate age to do so, as he used to Gung Ho to turn Cobra Commander into his personal gimpy, bitch in his own innocuous, pubescent form of Pulp Fiction. When Joshua got a bit older, he’d organize his Basketball card collection, consisting of almost every rookie who played for the original USA Dream Team, MJ an the Bird, MJ combo rookie card excluded, because together they cost more than ounce of Maui Wowie. That’s so good, you take only one hit of delicious, crystal flecked green, watch the entirety of Pink Floyd Wall Sophomore Year in college and think you comprehended all the symbolic nuances from start finish, back when Roger Waters was more pro wall but no so much in Israel’s case to prevent more blatantly unnecessary death. Later, after Joshua in Junior High, he’d decorate the walls of his bedroom with an unoccupied top bunk, with cut out pictures of all his Hair Metal Gods from Circus Magazine, which included non-pretty boy faces such as the Freddy Kruger of shredding Mick Mars from Motely Crew. But sometime in the early 1990’s, Joshua’s parents decided to repaint his lost in fantasy island room. The Italian painter took one look at Joshua’s wailing wall of metal and says, “There’s a lot of dolled up men on your wall.” In Joshua’s Heavy Metal High pilot trilogy, which he pitched to the EVP of VH1 Classic in Manhattan, his character replies to the Italian painter with, “I’m sorry are blush covered cheeked Bret Michaels from Poison not manly enough for you Dominick I Ain’t No Fag Scholanti.”

Joshua would never forgive himself for letting his father bully him into inviting his friend Ari to see Motley Crew in the 6th grade at the Nassau Coliseum, during their revitalized, hit heavy Dr. Feelgood tour, with Warrant as the opening act, after promising his closer friend Coop, with his far deeper ties at the time.  Coop didn’t talk to Joshua for a solid 5 years afterwards and they hung out plenty in Elementary School, going to movies at Movieland in Yonkers all the time because Coop was an only child, whose parents were both Lawyers, at the same law firm, the father owned, so the could afford a pair of smoking hot, au pairs from Switzerland who tasted good inside and out guaranteed.  Coop was a mensch. Before he became a top realtor in Manhattan, he was the Nino Brown of weed dealing at Hartford University and would let Joshua’s younger brother, sell major weight for him back home and let him off the hook no problem if he was ever light 500 here, 800 bones there. Plus, when Joshua had his stand-up comedy bringer show at the New York Comedy Club, Coop’s presence among his high school class of 99 caused the biggest stir. Coop also delivered the most touching, emotive praise after Joshua’s friend Ari, who was still a mensch in his own right, simply stating in a stupefied, teetering on awe inspired state, “Awesome.” Coop approached Joshua outside the New York Comedy Club and said, “Great show, very funny stuff bro” with all knowing stony Buda assurance. Joshua replied, “Thanks Coop, but I’m still so broke my Hebrew name is under Judicial review.” Coop refused to give into Joshua’s feeble attempt at self-deprecation, which never captured his true funny man essence entirely and says, “Stick with it, you’re funny.”

Understand, this is more emotive encouragement Joshua ever received from his own flesh and blood, being his younger brother and 2 parents. But as they says, the 1st hilarious Bat Men Lego movie, you get to chose your friends, not your family and Coop’s push for Joshua to continue down the pursuit of getting Lady Laugh off long time was a noble pursuit worth fighting for with all this funny Jew bone, God blessed might.  Joshua developed a later in life, cast iron dense strong friendship with adopted valley brother Jay from Southern California, who knew the real him inside and out and gave him an even more rousing, inspirational, Mick type pep push from Rocky when he said, “Never lose your edge JK.”

 

Now, Joshua was 43 turning on 44, still pursuing the path of most resistance. His parents wouldn’t acknowledge his debut comedy record nor would his younger brother. Joshua’s wife claims to overhear portions of his Do It All Dad Year Podcast from downstairs because he’s such a loudmouthed, crazy man Jew, but 150 episodes in, had never listened to one from start to finish.   When Joshua had moved back from LA after living out there for 6 years, in West Hollywood, Hermosa Beach and Sherman Oaks in the valley, another old school high bud saw him do an open mike set at some shit hole bar east of Madison Square Garden in Midtown east, total no man’s land and he said with stupefied bewilderment, “You’d be ok with dying alone. You’re really in no rush to be in a relationship again ever.” The reality is, ever since Joshua fell in love with making Lady Laugh, laugh, he never felt alone again.  God didn’t give Joshua 3 unplanned kids to have panic attack over it. If Joshua was out with his 3 kids by themselves, which was often, a stranger would say, “You got three.” And he’d say, “All 3 were unplanned. Obviously, I never planned the art of the pump fake.” Then, Joshua would hear the same random stranger comment on how pretty his lucky number 3 Samuel is and he’d reply in a relaxed manner because he was accustomed to the unsolicited praise so often by now, “He’s a very pretty he. I envision a future where he’ll be fronting a Poison cover band no problem” These lines would generate streams of laughter every time. Joshua wasn’t ready to relinquish his God given edge just yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 28 You Can’t Fake Chemistry

Chapter 28

You Can’t Fake Chemistry

Joshua never cared for Scientists too much. When he dozed 2 minutes into the Making Of The Dark Universe at the Museum of Natural History, his daughter Matilda whacked him in the rib with her forearm hard with menacing disgust, prompting her Do It All Dad to yell in his defense, “God only made Neil deGrasse Tyson interesting in 2 minute bursts at a time, all right.” Albert Einstein helped make the Atom bomb, which put an official end to World War 2. The “Big One” also resulted in make out moments galore along the Canyon of Heroes on Broadway, honoring America’s greatest generation and our last large scale, big deal military victory against a formidable foreign power, cranked up on Crystal Meth, pre-fake news and the era of HBO becoming must see TV for more resistor hued, Nazi revisionist, fictional TV series fare because she lost despite getting the debate questions in advance. So Joshua didn’t hate scientists all together.

Atheist know it all twats like Stephen Hawking, didn’t make Joshua warm up to bean breath British physicists either. But Obama gave Stephen Hawking the Presidential Medal Of Freedom despite the award being the highest American civilian honor possible. So Joshua must possess a very low opinion of star fuckers from Kenya, I guess. But what really turned off Joshua from scientists besides the computer ones who worked for IBM to develop technology, which made it easier for the Nazi’s to identity his European Jewish ancestors before they were shipped off to death camps, was the dweeb brewer of Six Point Brewery in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Who during the tour of his brewery, touted himself as the improv chemist genius of hoppy amalgam fermentation. But back to IBM for a second. Joshua lived in Croton Falls, NY with his wife Anna and 3 kids, who would’ve been thrown into the gas chambers in Auschwitz, so knowing IBM had a major R&D facility in nearby Somers, NY, he was quick to point out IBM’s Nazi profiteering past, at the local brew bar upstairs at Italian grocery store DeCicco’s, if he overheard some IT folk talk about programming or coding of any kind and impose his material on them, regardless if they were engaged in a dialogue prior or not. Joshua says, “Hey guys, this is my impression of a Computer Scientist at IBM testing the artificial intelligence of Watson the Super Computer, who won at Jeopardy. Hey Watson, are you aware of being named after the scientist Dr. Watson, who developed technology for the Nazis, who made it easier for the Kraut breaths to identify Jews being shipped off on trains to slaughter? Watson compute replies, “No shit Sherlock.” But if you didn’t know that, you probably didn’t know Hitler had a framed picture of Henry Ford on his desk, despite the Model T, being a poor man’s Mercedes Benz, Hitler’s preferred drive by car of choice.”

Climate Scientists alarmists trying to give his 3 children eco anxiety didn’t inspire Joshua to embrace the scientific community at large either. On Joshua’s debut comedy record, Resist This, he did a bit about imagining a debate on climate change between Trump and Greta Thunburg, which any NPR devotee believer would have a psychotic meltdown over, his wife included, in a NY Minute. In the bit Trump says, “Fracking reduces our carbon emissions Greta.” Greta says, “So Neil Young is full of shit now? Trump replies, “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So, that much you share in common babe.”

Again, Joshua was waiting to meet with the Rabbi’s highly touted, master brewer brother Schmendel but this time it was at the DBGB Kitchen & Bar, on the corner of Bowery and Houston, which is easily confused with the CBGB bar of yesteryear, when model turned singer songwriter, ambient rocker Debbie Harry pleaded on stage, to her latest hunk on a stick, “Call me”, pre-smart phones and Steve Jobs inventing nothing but casual Friday. One time, Joshua’s kids discovered a gift from Mama for Dada, including a pile of cue cards with typed written notes and heart and froggy stickers placed on them throughout, including loving homages in his honor such as, “I love the depth of your soul.” I love the way I can’t imagine a day without you in my life.” “I love how you kiss blondie.” After Joshua’s 9-year-old daughter discovered this card in particular, she asks her dear Dada, “Who’s Blondie Dada?” Dada replies, “Easier on the eyes than the Ramones, next question.”

Schmendel makes eye contact with Joshua at the bar, sporting the Hassidic beard, a Kippah and a rocking Faconnable bomber, black leather jacket. “Joshua get’s up from his bar seat, “Schmendel, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Schmendel says, “Thank God, another too tall Jew exists besides me.” Joshua says, “Growing up my Jewish father from the Bronx would always kvetch, “Joshua, why can’t you have taller friends?” And I’m thinking, because all of them Jewish or Japanese American. Plus, you didn’t ship me off for 3 whole months every summer to a big man basketball camp in Zaire.” Schmendel says, “What beer are you drinking? “Joshua says, “I like to try local beers, because I’m obsessed with freshness, so I went with some IPA from Queens. But can we stop calling Queens hot? Compared to Manhattan and Brooklyn, Queens is the sloppy 3rd Kardashian sister. You know the extra greasy one, whose actually OJ’s daughter. Who’s easy to pound at 3 in the morning like a lamb gyro in Astoria. And I don’t buy the fact Bruce Jenner when married to Kris Jenner was asexual. But I’m positive, Bruce stayed harder longer, after he convinced his wife Kris Jenner to cut her hair short, so she’d look more like a dolled-up Ralph Macchio. And if I see Transgender Father’s Day trend on Twitter one more time, I’m breaking my Chic-Fil-A strike for good. Either you’re involved father or you’re not Nipple Tits. Getting shafted shouldn’t be such a shock to your system anymore either.” Schmendel finishes laughing, “You don’t have many friends do you?”, Schmendel says. Joshua laughs, “The majority of my old ones are gone, that’s correct Schmendel. Apparently, certain fake news friends who only like you when they can feel smug superior, east coast elitist in comparison.” Schmendel says, “Join the club. You can’t be a self-loving, Trump supporting, funny many Jew in New York these days, without being looked down upon like some blissfully ignorant, uninformed degenerate, deplorable of Jew of the lowest order.” Joshua says, “So your parents hate you more than ever to? Join the club. So, I need a mock cheese wiz for my Do It All Dad Hero Kosher Cheesesteak Truck. Can you help me? I know you’re a master brewer, but I figured your background in organic chem, food sciences and microbiology at John Hopkins University, could figure out a killer recipe in no time. I’ve been stalking on you LinkedIn in case you’re wondering. It’s my old school IT recruitment agency background shining through.” I can still help you come up with a killer viral campaign for your great, American Jewish Pale Ale in exchange.” Schmendel says, “Joshua take it easy. You had me at mock cheese wiz for my Do It All Dad Hero kosher Cheesesteak Truck. I’m a father of 7 myself.” Joshua says, “And I thought I was stuck up shits creek without a paddle.” Joshua orders an IPA for his Jewish brother in arms and raises his glass for a toast, “To meant to be chemistry, L’Chaim.”

Chapter 28 You Can’t Fake Chemistry

Chapter 28

You Can’t Fake Chemistry

Joshua never cared for Scientists too much. When he dozed 2 minutes into the Making Of The Dark Universe at the Museum of Natural History, his daughter Matilda whacked him in the rib with her forearm hard with menacing disgust, prompting her Do It All Dad to yell in his defense, “God only made Neil deGrasse Tyson interesting in 2 minute bursts all right.” Albert Einstein helped make the Atom bomb, which put an official end to World War 2. The “Big One” also resulted in make out moments galore along the Canyon of Heroes on Broadway, honoring, America’s greatest generation and our last large scale, big deal military victory against a formidable foreign power, cranked up on Crystal Meth, pre-fake news and the era of HBO becoming must see TV for more resistor hued, Nazi revisionist, fictional TV series fare because she lost despite getting the debate questions in advance, so Joshua didn’t hate scientists all together.

Atheist know it all, twats like Stephen Hawking, didn’t make Joshua warm up to bean breath British physicists either. But Obama gave Stephen Hawking the Presidential Medal Of Freedom despite the award being the highest American civilian honor possible, so Joshua must possess a very low opinion of star fuckers from Kenya, I guess. But what really turned off Joshua from scientists besides the computer ones, who worked for IBM to develop technology making it easier for Nazi’s to identity European Jewish ancestors as they were shipped off to death camps, AOC compared to AC chill, border detention centers, was the dweeb brewer of Six Point Brewery in Red Hook, Brooklyn, who during the tour of his brewery, touted himself as the improv chemist genius of hoppy amalgam fermentation. But back to IBM for a second, Joshua lived in Croton Falls, NY with his wife anna and 3 kids, who would’ve been thrown in the gas chambers in Auschwitz, which AOC refused to take a tour of back in day, so knowing IBM had a major R&D facility in nearby Somers, NY, he was quick to point out IBM’s Nazi profiteering past, at the local brew bar upstairs at Italian grocery store DeCicco’s, if he overheard some IT folk talk about programming or coding of any kind and impose his material on them, regardless if they were engaged in a dialogue prior or not, “Hey guys, this is my impression of a computer scientist at IBM testing the artificial intelligence of Watson the Super Computer, who won at Jeopardy. Hey, Watson, are you aware of being named after the scientist Dr. Watson, who developed technology for the Nazis, who made easier to identify European Jewry before they were shipped off on trains to slaughter. Watson compute replies, “No shit Sherlock.” But if you didn’t know that, you probably didn’t know Hitler had a framed picture of Henry Ford on his desk, despite the Model T, being a poor man’s Mercedes Benz, Hitler’s preferred drive by car of choice.” Climate Scientists alarmists trying to give his 3 children eco anxiety didn’t inspire him to embrace the scientific community at large either. On Joshua’s debut comedy record, Resist This, he did a bit about imagining a debate on climate change between Trump and Greta Thunburg, which any NPR devotee believer would have a psychotic meltdown over, his wife included, in a NY Minute. Trump says, “Fracking reduces our carbon emissions Greta.” Greta says, “So Neil Young is full of shit now? Trump replies, “Neil Young doesn’t take showers to reduce his carbon footprint. So, that much you share in common babe.”

Again, Joshua was waiting to meet with the Rabbi’s highly touted, master brewer brother Schmendel but this time it was at the DBGB Kitchen & Bar on the corner of Bowery and Houston, which is easily confused with the CBGB bar of yesteryear, when model turned singer song writer, ambient rocker Debbie Harry pleaded on stage, to her latest hunk on a stick, “call me”, pre-smart phones and Steve Jobs inventing nothing but casual Friday. One time, Joshua’s kids discovered a gift from mama for dada, including a pile of cue cards with typed written notes and heart and froggy stickers placed on them throughout including loving homages in his honor such as, “I love the depth of your soul.” I love the way I can’t imagine a day without you in my life.” “I love how you kiss blondie.” After Joshua’s 9-year-old daughter discovered this card in particular, she asks her dear Dada, “Who’s Blondie Dada?” Dada replies, “Easier on the eyes than the Ramones, next question.”

Schmendel makes eye contact with Joshua at the bar, sporting the Hassidic beard, a Kippah and a rocking Faconnable bomber, black leather jacket. “Joshua get’s up from his bar seat, “Schmendel, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Schmendel says, “Thank God, another too tall Jew exists besides me.” Joshua says, “Growing up my Jewish father from the Bronx would always kvetch, “Joshua, why can’t you have taller friends? And I’m thinking, because all of them Jewish or Japanese American. Plus, you didn’t ship me off for 3 whole months every summer to a big man basketball camp in Zaire.” Schmendel says, “What beer are you drinking? “Joshua says, “I like to try local beers, because I’m obsessed with freshness, so I went with some IPA from Queens. But can we stop calling Queens hot. Compared to Manhattan and Brooklyn, Queens is the sloppy 3rd Kardashian sister. You know the extra greasy one, whose actually OJ’s daughter, who’s easy to pound at 3 in the morning like a lamb gyro in Astoria. And I don’t buy the fact Bruce Jenner when married to Kris Jenner was asexual. But I’m positive, Bruce stayed harder longer, after he convinced his wife Kris Jenner to cut her hair short, so she’d look more like a dolled-up Ralph Macchio. And if I see Transgender father’s day trend on Father’s Day one more time, I’m breaking my Chic Filet strike for good. Either you’re involved father or you’re not Nipple Tits. Getting shafted shouldn’t be such a shock to your system anymore either.” Schmendel finishes laughing, “You don’t have many friends do you?”, Schmendel says. Joshua laughs, “The majority of old ones are gone, that’s correct Schmendel. Apparently, certain fake news friends who only like you when they can feel smug superior, east coast elitist in comparison.” Schmendel says, “Join the club. You can’t be a self-loving, Trump supporting, funny many Jew in New York these days, without being looked down upon like some blissfully ignorant, uninformed degenerate, deplorable of Jew of the lowest order.” Joshua says, “So your parents hate you more than ever? Join the club. So, I need a mock cheese wiz for my Do It All Dad Hero Kosher cheese steak truck. Can you help me? I know you’re a master brewer, but I figured your background in organic chem, food sciences and microbiology at John Hopkins University, could figure out a killer recipe in no time. I’ve been stalking on you LinkedIn in case you’re wondering. It’s my old school IT recruitment agency background shining through.” I can still help you come up with a killer viral campaign for your great, American Jewish Pale Ale in exchange.” Schmendel says, “Joshua take it easy. You had me at mock cheese wiz for my Do It All Dad Hero kosher Cheesesteak truck. I’m a father of 7 myself.” Joshua says, “And I thought I was stuck up shits creek without a paddle.” Joshua orders an IPA for his Jewish brother in arms and raises his glass for a toast, “To meant to be chemistry, L’Chaim.”

Chapter 26 The Non-Religious Hipster

Chapter 26

The Non-Religious Hipster

The only time Joshua ever got into real trouble with his parents was during a family trip to Montreal, when he insisted on sending his younger brother back to the hotel in a cab, so he could pass out on top of a Canadian girl’s mountain of muff, unable to get it up for some boom, boom because of all the strip club day drinking prior, before those high octane Canadian Labatt Blues came back to knock him on his ass, after maintaining the same rock steady, pounding pace at the dance club soon after. Joshua had attended Ithaca College in upstate NY, otherwise known as Cornell’s retarded next door neighbor, located only a 4 hour drive from the Canadian border. So, he spent many weekend getaways in Montreal with his college buds to wreck more brain cells and feel more retarded than usual, tearing through an eighth of outdoor Tompkins Country weed every other 3 days wasn’t helping. If Joshua could do it all over again, he’d bribe the DJ at the strip club in Montreal with a 50 spot, so he could play the 20 minute version of the Allman’s Brother’s Whipping Post from the their famed Filmore East show, so he could maximize his erect, arousal, one lap dance per song moment for all it was worth like any good, shrewd, predatory Jewish New Yorker, not bright enough to pass the Series 7 to become a Investment Banker would. Joshua was never obsessed with getting lap dances from strippers, but clear memories of blowing off his homework in the 9th grade to watch the Cherry Pie video on MTV, the VHS Kiss doc Exposed with lead singer and songwriter Paul Stanley philosophizing on the art of being a playmate bedding rock star on a bed flush with nothing but perfect busty tens. In addition to endless repeat showings of the equally titillating, Motley Crue doc, Uncensored, including plenty of clips from the their slickest, most arousing, rock star affirming video, Girls, Girls, Girls, which takes place in the actual strip club on the Sunset Strip, where Joshua used to live down the street among the more homoerotic, rent controlled land of boys town in West Hollywood. So Joshua never got discouraged from pursuing the glittery, stripper’s embrace, before he got married, if he had the money burn, one bit.

But Montreal wasn’t all about the icy, cracked out looking, vixen, strippers for Joshua. Because he loved his out of nowhere, fluffy, thick, succulent, locally sourced, in retrospect, Canadian ham loaded Omelette at some random greasy spoon diner 10 times more. This omelette in particular gave Joshua more long lasting joy than any fleeting, blue balls destined lap dance, assuming he was wearing jeans and not sweat pants. Joshua also learned during a trip to Montreal hungover the next morning again, how the French Canadian’s just don’t serve you a regular egg and cheese sandwich there. Instead, they’ll throw in some tasty baby spinach greens, on top a mayo slathered Croissant, if you weren’t eating pork again, which Joshua wasn’t because some psychic in LA prior told him his Chakras were more clogged than his freshman one hitter. The same psychic who Joshua paid in what felt like the entirety of his inherited Pfizer stock from his Jewish Grandmother on his dad’s side, insisted Joshua abstain from pork and beer for a 30 day purification period. Joshua wasn’t complaining about the final results, looking slim and trim doing something more constructive with his time than binge, like DMX before he got into character at the recording studio that day, to rap, “I m slipping, falling and can’t get up.” At the same time, Joshua will never forget about how he relished his In and Out Burgers in LA, animal style, which is twice the cheese, twice the patties, on top of their specialty, never burnt or syrupy sweet, fried onions nestled between their buttered, specialty sauce slathered buns. Actually, Joshua had an old high school bud, another groomsmen at his wedding who visited him in LA during a work week, so he just drove Joshua to and from work, while smoking plenty of primo icky, sticky, California loving weed, from his contact in the valley, when he wasn’t revisiting In and Out, on back to back to back days, winning the tubby bitch, trifecta, New York style. Also, Joshua will never forget how delectable scrumptious his behemoth of a triple cheesed burger was from Fuddruckers in Palo Alto to celebrate the completion of his 1st purification feast, as he inhaled one yummy bloody bite after another.

When living in stroller mom central in Park Slope, with his girlfriend now wife, Anna, he couldn’t resist the idolized worship of thick cut, Applewood country, smoked crisp Bacon served at all the various, overpriced, never sexy enough for his standards brunch spots, sprinkled throughout the Brooklyn enclave, referred to famed novelist turned boxing Journalist Norman Mailer, “as the most secure place” for a Jew to live on our planet earth. Still, Joshua growing up in a Kosher household always felt a tad uncomfortable frying up any piggy in their apartment. Which still didn’t stop him from throwing a 12 inch Kielbasa on the grill in their garden outback, from the drab, bare bones, stuck in 1940, utterly colorless and humorless Ukrainian meat shop on 4th avenue, only a 2 avenue stroll down the hill one bit either. And when Joshua went on the Kornbluth European vacation in college with his parents and younger brother to Italy, which included stops along the Amalfi Coast in Italy, right off the mighty Mediterranean coast, he wasn’t kvetching about breaking God’s commanded law to not eat pork, as he suckled down one more mound of svelte, Prosciutto di Parma with more fresh, crackling sesame loaded, Italian bread with bits of semi-hard, mind blowing fresh, put hair on your chest provolone either.

But now Joshua was 43 going on 44, eating kosher and getting closer to God every day, yeah, yeah. So giving 2 shits about projecting any cool man foodie, over the hill Park Slope hipster cred among other piggling sucking, bearded hobbits, to conceal their drooping neck fat, in their best Paul Bunion gear, held out less appeal for him than liking and encouraging more pics of Lena’s Dunham’s frumpy, let it all hang look on Instagram. These were the type of thoughts swirling in Joshua’s head, as he took in the dinning scene at Mile End in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, waiting to meet with the Rabbi’s much touted brew master genius Schmendel any minute. Losing patience with Schmendel, Joshua decides to start ordering at the counter but has some questions first. “Hi, the smoked meat Montreal Pastrami sandwich on Jewish rye is Kosher, right? The lady behind the counter with decked out tattoos hanging on for dear life off her droopy, too cool for school flabby arms says with immediate repulsive, disgust, “No, we don’t serve Dr. Browns cream soda or offer complimentary Kosher spear dill pickles either.” Joshua barks back with menacing, pissed off, slightly disproportionate in return fury, “But you’re a Sunday Morning Bacon Jew, who believes only wolfing down more locally soured bacon on top of your fucking fries and poutine, makes you the more progressive, evolved, Jew. Who watched the Daily Show with religious devotion throughout your time at McGill, so you’re too sophisticated to ever identify yourself as a mere religious, old school, easily duped, observant, proud Jew, got it, FLAPS.” The cashier burns a death stare through Joshua’s swelling noggin and screams, “Get the fuck out of our store. You’re banned permanently, no smoked Canadian meat for you.” Joshua begins to leave and fires back one last time with, “I was already leaving. Good luck finding a reformed Jewish cemetery plot big enough to wheel barrel your fat ass into the ground, FRUMPS. Fucking Canadian Hipster Jews are so, off the list.”