Son of the Ghost of Firesign, Part Three

So...we mingle with the library folks, clap politely as donors are thanked, then David and Phil spy the wine bar, and they're off. Holy crap, I know nothing about these guys personally -- are they gonna get royally tanked before our program ?!? (No, they don't.) Later as we head out the exit, we're talking about all the local dot.com millionaires who've managed to make way too much money off e-commerce and e-banking and e-business, and I chime in bitterly "Yeah, what a bunch of e-holes!" Phil laughs so hard he practically falls over. "Did you just make that up?" (expressing the time-honored fear of the comic that's he's stolen, unconsciously or not, someone else's material). I assure him that yes, I just thought of it. (Surreal moment #2.)




Ten minutes to showtime. David & Phil are off to the side of the stage, still fine-tuning what they'll perform. Other than Program Guy, myself and Judith, the place is completely empty (there may have been a rogue waiter or two still cleaning up from dinner). Turns out that WLA has a "comedy" program of their own: librarians read their 'learned papers' on 'humorous' topics. Everyone who should be at our program is there instead. Program Guy and I both are prostrate on the stage, asking God to kill us now.

God spares us, people eventually trickle in. Oblivious to the skimpy crowd, D&P are sweet, hilarious and genuinely thought-provoking. Phil uses my joke and points me out to the crowd, afterwards fans line up to have albums signed, Program Guy and I are in a PTSD shell-shocked state, eventually we get to thank David and Phil, and Phil signs my program "You are NOT an e-hole!"



Postscript: the next morning, riding the elevator down with David & Judith and assorted library people (Phil lives close enough that he left after the program), someone turns to me and says "E-holes, huh?" Yes, that evening was all about me.

Phil Austin and David Ossman were professional, gentleman, poets and deeply funny people. I am so glad that I got a chance to be there that night.

PPS: Thank you to my lovely and talented wife Deoborah, who offered editorial assistance for this latest 3-part blog. Thanks, doll, you're the best!