opinionaTED
Ted's latest blogs/material
Hear Me Roar
April 25, 2009
I was walking through Washington, DC this morning and heard the pounding of drums as I approached Dupont Circle. The rhythmic pull drew me in from blocks away. As I entered the park I saw an all-womens drum line. People were gathering around as they played.
The women were fierce. There were probably close to forty women, ranging from their twenties to about their sixties and they exuded such energy, power and joy as they played. There was a primal thrust to their drumming as they swayed together and pounded their instruments, occasionally letting out a yell.
Their expressions varied, some beamed as they played and others were serious and focused, transfixed by the rhythm and the energy surrounding them. Each possessed their own style within the whole; some performed with a flourish and others were more contained and reserved. I stood, watched and listened, taking in the sights and sounds all around me. The crowd gathered around, some dancing, some swaying slightly, others standing still, watching intently.
After a few minutes I filled with emotion as I watched these women banging their drums, swaying en masse and shouting to the heavens. I experienced it as an offering of praise and gratitude to women; their beauty, their power, their strength. I thought of my mother and my sisters. I thought of life and childbirth and how it all emanates from a woman. I also thought about my own soulmate and offered that up to the heavens along with the hopes, dreams and passions of everyone else gathered in the park on a beautiful spring day, swaying to the sound of the drums.
These Dream Things Are Real, Man
April 20, 2009
“These dream things are real, man.”
George Carlin
Fifteen years ago I decided to become a standup comedian. I had just received my master’s degree in elementary education, which I was proud of but I knew in my heart that there was more I wanted to achieve and experience.
I set about pursuing a career in comedy by night while teaching music by day. I did both jobs for five years, gradually climbing the ladder in comedy to the point where I was starting to eke out a living. Finally, after that fifth year teaching I decided it was time to listen to my instincts and pursue comedy full time, letting go of the safety net of my day job.
Following my instincts is the single most important factor in shaping the life that has unfolded for me. The whispers inside that say “Yes, you can do this” and “Follow this direction” are sacred whispers, I believe, guiding you toward the path you were meant to take. I am grateful to my parents for instilling a faith in myself and in those instincts because it has given me the life I dreamed of and more.
My recent return from Egypt and Kuwait has me reflecting on this wonderful life that I have been fortunate to experience. As with any success, it has been a combination of hard work, luck and patience. Again, following my instincts has opened the doors to a life of beautiful people, places and experiences which have enriched me beyond measure.
I was thinking of some of those people, places and experiences:
- I have opened up for Chuck Berry, Smokey Robinson, Joan Rivers, Joy Behar, Dennis Miller, Jon Stewart, Louis CK. I have worked with countless talented comedians; beautiful, artistic, creative souls who have enriched my life.
- I have performed in more than half of the fifty states and internationally in Amman, London, Manchester, Cairo, Alexandria, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Montreal and Toronto.
As George Carlin said, “These dream things are real, man.” I know they are because I have seen it with my own eyes. At times it has been a struggle and I have had doubts and disappointments, nights where I felt defeated and wondered if I had what it takes. But I always continued on, knowing that the whispers inside were real and true. They were saying “You can do this, Teddy. It is in you.”
I am grateful for this indescribable life of wonder, opportunity, challenge and reward. The people I have shared the journey with and the experiences I have gathered have made me the person I am. The whispers within say “There is more on the way” and I know it is true. I will continue to work hard, follow my instincts and give thanks for every precious moment of this beautiful journey.
These dream things are real, man.
The Wonder Of It All
April 18, 2009
Today we traveled to see the Egyptian pyramids, the only remaining ancient wonder of the world from the original seven. Our group was traveling from Cairo to Alexandria for our next show and, on the way, we stopped to visit the pyramids.
It was breathtaking to be standing next to ancient history. Of course, many of the locals try to scam you by selling you souvenirs, basically throwing them at you and insisting you take something.
One thing we did partake of was a camel ride. Myself, Ahmed Ahmed and Angelo Tsarouchas each decided to take advantage of the rare opportunity to ride a camel next to an ancient pyramid. Angelo was first and watching it unfold was one of the more memorable experiences of my life, much less the trip.
Angelo is a big guy, as he says “between 325 and 350″. The skinny whip of an Egyptian man prodded Angelo to climb aboard the camel, so he did, thinking he would just sit on the camel for a picture. Angelo had on a native headwrap, as well, adding to the fun. Once Ang was aboard, the camel yet out a yelp like I’ve never heard from any animal as he straightened to a fully upright position.
I should mention that Angelo is one of the most fun, silly, good time guys I’ve ever met so he immediately started laughing; half nervous and half excited. The camel started trotting and Angelo started howling with laughter. He looked like a big kid having the time of his life. He couldn’t believe that he was riding a camel and he continued to laugh the whole time, his whole face lit up.
Myself and Ahmed climbed aboard our camels and followed behind Angelo. Here we were, three comedians; one from New York, one from L.A. and one from Canada, riding camels in Egypt by the pyramids.
Once we got to the top the shakedown began as the local guys who own the camels began asking for money. We each gave them 100 pounds, which amounts to about $30. The Egyptians who were with us were aghast, saying we had been robbed, but to us it was completely worth it, something you couldn’t put a price tag on for those memories.
We went on to Alexandria after that and, due to very heavy traffic, arrived at the venue at 5:55 for a 6pm show. The crowd was filing in when we rushed in towards our dressing rooms. We felt like a rock band, moving en masse with all our equipment and the people working for the tour accompanying us. I felt a strange satisfaction and pride in the fact that we, as comedians, can arrive and flip the switch almost instantaneously.
We all washed up and changed, still pulsing with excitement from our trip to the pyramids, and proceeded to give the wonderful people of Alexandria an incredible show. This was the first live standup show in Alexandria and the crowd couldn’t have been more appreciative and excited.
It was an amazing cap to an amazing week. A week that started in Kuwait, a beautiful land of gracious and hospitable people; they presented each of us with a rare set of Kuwati commemorative coins from the Kuwait government as well as a special commemorative dinar celebrating the second anniversary of Kuwait’s liberation.
Cairo was energetic, hectic, busy, crowded, alive and dizzying. It was like New York on crack. Drivers are truly insane and don’t seem to abide by any rules of the road. Pedestrians walk wherever and whenever they please, even out into speeding, oncoming traffic. And nobody seems to get irritated, either. If a person walks out into traffic the car barely slows down and almost hits them but nobody reacts, it’s all just part of the ebb and flow of Cairo.
But the people are joyous, demonstrative, gracious and incredibly welcoming. Like the Kuwaitis, they treated us like dignitaries the entire trip.
Alexandria was right on the Mediterranean and much less cacaphonous than Cairo; less populated and less whirlwind. Though we only spent an evening there I found the people to be warm, gracious and wonderfully appreciative.
In all of our meet and greets after shows the people were so thankful for our trip to perform in their homelands. The people expressed such sincere gratitude to all of us and asked that we please come back again soon.
Because live standup comedy is in its infancy in this region of the world the crowds are not nearly as nonchalant or cavalier about seeing a show. They are thrilled to be there; attentive, excited and appreciative, start to finish. And I don’t think we had one interruption to a performance the whole week, other than perhaps a baby crying.
In two hours I take a cab to the airport. I am ready to fly back home after a beautiful journey, one that has educated me, buoyed me and nourished me. I am grateful for the incredible experiences I have shared with my fellow comedians and the many wonderful people of Kuwait and Egypt who went so far out of their way to say, in word and deed, “Welcome!” I thank you, one and all.
Larger Than Life
April 16, 2009
Today we had some press set up at the Virgin Mega Store in Cairo. Virgin is one of the sponsors and also where people can buy tickets to our shows, so the promoters set up a meet and greet for us to sign autographs there.
I don’t know how it came up but on the way there, Taylor- a camera guy shooting a documentary, AngeloTsarouchas- one of the other comics, and I were talking boy bands. We mentioned Backstreet Boys vs. Nsync, New Kids On the Block and their newer incarnation as N.K.O.T.B. and, of course, New Edition. I, myself, am still partial to New Edition and all the others were watered down versions of them, in my opinion.
When our van arrived at the mall we were greeted by a cadre of squat, buff security guys in black suits. They ushered us into the mall and up to the Virgin Megastore. Mind you, Ahmed Ahmed and Maz Jobrani, the two other comics on the bill, are big stars in this region of the world and may need security when entering a mall in Cairo. Angelo and I, however, were in no danger of being recognized much less attacked. Not that I didn’t appreciate our crack security but I couldn’t help but laugh as I entered the mall surrounded by these guys straight out of the Matrix. It dawned on me that this is what it must have been like for those boy bands back then, being ushered from one press event to the next, surrounded by security.
We went upstairs to the executive offices of Virgin and did some television interviews with what seemed like their version of Access Hollywood. Then we went downstairs to the store area and, as expected, not many people noticed us or approached us. The Virgin employees were actually the only ones who asked us to pose for pictures. Again, I don’t suspect they knew me or Angelo but their attitude seemed to be “I don’t know who these guys are but it’s better than a typical day around here. I haven’t done jack shit all day and it’s already 4:30. Two more hours and I’m outta here!”
It was pretty funny because, as the day wore on, the security guys must have realized “What the hell are we protecting these guys for?” and they must have left. We entered like rock stars but by the end of the day there we were basically just walking around the store like any other customer. Even the employees seemed to be like “You guys are still here?”
But the shows are tomorrow night at a 2,500 seat venue and apparently they are both close to sold out. Standup comedy is very new so apparently people are clamoring to buy tickets and experience it live. It’s cool to be part of something that is still new and exciting for everyone, but as the Backstreet Boys can tell you, sometimes it can warp your perception of reality. Hopefully, like them, I’ll be able to stay focused, humble and keep my feet on the ground.
All you people can’t you see, can’t you see
How your love’s affecting our reality
Every time we’re down
You can make it right
And that makes you larger than life
I Fought the Law
April 14, 2009
Tonight I went to a private party at someone’s apartment with the other comedians. The consumption of alcohol is forbidden in Kuwait. You can get arrested for selling or drinking alcohol of any kind. But we are hardcore, we know the right people so we could not be stopped. By 9pm I had a Jim Beam and Coke in my hand. By midnight I was still nursing that same Jim Beam and Coke, along with a bottle of water to ease it along.
But that’s not the point; the point is that I had any alcohol at all. I was breaking the law! Do you understand that? Do you understand what kind of chances I was taking?
You’re probably wondering “Were you scared? Did it occur to you you might be arrested?”
“No” and “Who cares?” would be the answers, respectively. When I am looking to party I will not be denied, not by Kuwaiti law, not by my parents and not by anyone else.
People were playing darts, too, which I’m pretty sure is not allowed, either. But this is the life I lead, the life I have chosen or perhaps it chose me. Either way, there’s no turning back now.
My car to the airport arrives in less than two hours but I just ordered room service because I am staying up. That’s right, all nighter. No sleep til Cairo! A cheese omelette is on its way with a fresh glass of mango juice and a cup of coffee. You’re right, none of that is illegal but a brotha has to take a little down time to just chill.
American University of Kuwait
April 13, 2009
Tonight we performed two shows at the American University of Kuwait. I am on the bill with the very funny Maz Jobrani, Ahmed Ahmed and Angelo Tsarouchas. We were all a bit concerned beforehand because we were told that the President of the University as well as the Dean of Students would be in the crowd, which meant no cursing, no sex and no religion jokes.
The following conversation actually took place between the comedians and one of the promoters backstage;
“Can we say ‘shit’?”
“No ‘shit’”.
“C’mon, everybody shits! Why can’t we just say it?”
“No ‘shit’.”
“What about ‘bitch’? Can we say ‘bitch’?”
“I guess you can say ‘bitch’.”
“But definitely no ‘fucks’, right?”
“Nooooo. No ‘fucks’.”
Language isn’t really much of an issue with me but I have topics that some people can find offensive. “Jesus would work the balls” was out immediately, as was my abortion joke. But we were only doing twenty minutes, so it’s not a problem to get through that.
I went out to a crowd of about three hundred Kuwaitis and they were a great crowd. They got everything. I did my Obama stuff, my Bush stuff, my woman president stuff and they loved it. I even did some stuff on Chris Brown and Rihanna and they got that.
As one girl said to me at the meet and greet after the show, “Thank you so much for coming to Kuwait. It means so much to us. People think we don’t exist or that we’re disconnected from the rest of the world but we’re just like everyone else.”
And I said “Do you want me to sign your ticket or not?”
No, it was a great experience and reaffirms the lessons that I took away from Amman, Jordan last November. People are people and so many of my assumptions about the Middle East and its people are false and based on ignorance. It’s really a lack of effort on my part to learn anything about other countries or look beyond the parade of stereotypical images that the news or media in general puts in our faces. I grew up on movies where the bad guys were Arab. Other than Sayid on “Lost” I can’t think of too many regular, fully dimensional characters of Middle Eastern descent on television or film.
It will take time to overcome stereotypes, as it has with other groups. But the election of Barack Hussein Obama embodies a definite shift in perceptions. Sometimes it’s almost laughable to think back to 2001 and then flash forward to the election of Barack Hussein Obama as our forty-fourth President.
Maz and I were talking about how comedy can act as a bridge, too, changing perceptions and broadening peoples’ understanding of one another. I am grateful for the education I am getting and the people I am meeting from around the world. It only reminds me that I have a lot to learn and a long way to go. And it’s great to be able to make people of all races, religions and creeds laugh, even if we can’t say “shit”.
Easter in Kuwait
April 12, 2009
I arrived safely in Kuwait after a stopover in Cairo for a few hours. I am spending my Easter Sunday relatively close to Jesus’ old ‘hood. I’m keepin’ it real this Easter.
It was quite an interesting trip. In customs they made me open my suitcase to examine my box of CDs and DVDs. It’s a little weird to try to explain the cover photo of my CD/DVD to a Kuwaiti customs agent. If you haven’t seen the cover or heard my prison rape joke, the photo definitely just looks like male porn. A big inmate is holding me from behind, both of us in orange prison jumpsuits, with the title “As Much As You Want” emblazoned above us for comedic effect, which I’m certain was lost on the agents.
“It’s comedy”, I assured them. “I would rape him back. Haha! Comedy!”
“Comedy?” one of them asked.
“Yes… jokes? I’m a comedian. I tell jokes, make people laugh.”
He examined the cover photo, not laughing, and asked “Comedy?”
“Yeah”, I answered, sheepishly.
Thankfully they let me go, I stuffed my merch back into my suitcase and I was on my way.
I walked out of baggage claim, scanning the crowd for someone holding a sign with my name. Alas, I didn’t see anyone. I saw one that said “Donna Concrete” but no “Ted Alexandro”. After about fifteen minutes I texted my contact to see what was up. After another forty minutes I was prepared to try to pass myself off as Donna Concrete.
I was told that someone would be there to pick me up. I knew
nothing beyond that, which looking back was not the best arrangement. I’ve had that happen before, though. When you travel as much as I do, snafus come up frequently and you learn to roll with it and not overreact. That said, it’s a strange feeling being in an airport, feeling conspicuously foreign and not knowing where your ride is or where you’re going. A Carribou Coffee provided an unexpectedly familiar place to kill some time.
Finally my ride, Hassan, arrived, apologized for the mix up and graciously loaded me into his S.U.V. His english was limited so when I made small talk about the weather being hot he turned up the A.C., which was unnecessary because the temperature was fine in the car. But you can’t really say “Turn it back down” after you’ve said the word “hot” to someone who misunderstood and was simply trying to accomodate you.
We drove in silence for a few minutes until he turned on the radio. To my surprise, Biggie Smalls unmistakeable voice came over the speakers “B-i-g, P-o-p-p-a!” I had to laugh as Brooklyn’s own serenaded me in Kuwait.
As we drove I looked up and spotted the moon, big and bright and about three quarters full. Just a few days ago I stood on Ditmars Boulevard in Astoria gazing at the moon through the telescope of a local dude who sets up a few nights a week and lets passersby check out the moon. He simply asks, in a very Queens accent, “Wanna check out da moon?” He’s real knowledgable and spews facts about the solar system, for no other reason than he loves space and astronomy.
Anyway, this Easter Sunday, as I sat in the front seat of an S.U.V. in Kuwait listening to Biggie with a guy named Hassan and looking up at the moon, I thought of that guy on Ditmars Boulevard and of how small the world can seem sometimes.
Ted Alexandro Is In the Tank with Jon Fisch
March 20, 2009
In the Tank with Jon Fisch is the hottest podcast in the five boroughs. I am this week’s guest. Listen here: http://tinyurl.com/tedinthetank
Find One Hundred Ways
March 16, 2009
My maternal grandmother, Roo Roo, turned one hundred years old yesterday. Her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and friends gathered at the nursing home where she lives to celebrate her centennial.
Roo Roo, always one to rise to the occasion, looked resplendent in lilac as she walked into the dining hall flanked by two of her grandchildren. More often than not Roo uses a wheelchair to get around now, but for her grand entrance on her one hundreth birthday, she insisted on walking into the room.
The entire day was a celebration of Roo Roo and the love that she has brought into the world. She is truly beloved and rightly so, she has loved so many, so well for so long.
My mother has assumed much of the responsibilty for Roo’s care in recent years, making sure to visit her regularly and let her know that she is loved. As Roo’s mental health has waned a bit it has been draining for my mother at times, but she has continued to dedicate herself to her mother’s care with a beautiful spirit of generosity and joy, never complaining.
During the celebration yesterday there was a moment that impacted me deeply. The party was deejayed by a Phil Spector looking guy with cowboy boots and a matching belt; a real character. He had a karaoke machine and sang everything from Hank Williams to Neil Diamond. He was basically background music for the affair and, other than the children, nobody was really dancing.
At one point Phil started singing and my parents got up to dance a lindy. Nobody else was on the floor but them; they were in their own little world, relishing one anothers’ company. I remember they had taken dance classes together years ago and now they were getting their money’s worth for every one of those lessons.
My mom’s face was exuberant, smiling ear to ear, and my dad looked cool and determined, remembering the steps and excitedly keeping it together. Their dance was a celebration of their love and their marriage of forty-three years. It was also a lesson for me that love is a decision. Just like my mother’s decision to visit Roo every week, getting out there on the dance floor as Phil Spector sang was a decision, a conscious effort to embrace the moment, cherish one another and cut loose with an exuberance that says “Yes!” to one another and to life.
Celebrating my Roo Roo’s one hundreth birthday was a day I will always remember. Doing so with the ones I love, who have demonstrated real love through good and bad times, reminds me of life’s preciousness and the opportunity that each moment presents to say “Yes! I love you!”
‘Deed I do.
Dad, Peter Ueberroth & John Mitchell
January 28, 2009
Dad, Peter Ueberroth & John Mitchell
My Dad is a retired schoolteacher and for as long as I can remember his summer job has been caddying at an exclusive golf course on Long Island. Over the years he has caddied for everyone from Bill Clinton to Bill Murray to David Dinkins.
One summer while I was still in college my Dad caddied for Peter Ueberroth who, at the time, was the commissioner of Major League Baseball. My Dad, in the course of talking to him, mentioned that our family are huge Mets fans. Ueberroth generously offered my Dad his private commissioner’s suite for a game at Shea!
Feeling like we had won the lottery, we excitedly rounded up a group of about fifteen people; family and friends. I remember the little old lady who lived a couple doors down from us, Delores, came too. She was a huge Mets fan and would sit out on her stoop smoking cigarettes and listening to the Mets games on transistor radio.
The commissioner’s suite was amazing. I remember big televisions, big leather chairs, an open bar and a never ending supply of hot dogs and hamburgers. It was nothing at all like sitting down with the riff-raff in the regular seats.
I don’t remember who the Mets were playing or even if they won but I remember feeling like royalty sitting up there and watching the game from a completely different vantage point than what I was used to. The baseball purist in me preferred the regular “open air” seats but for a one time experience, this was amazing.
When the game ended we took an elevator down to exit the building. An usher took us toward the door and I realized we would be exiting from the same door the players exited from. Fans would wait outside the doors, hoping to get players to sign an autograph. Suddenly, and I’m not sure why, an idea hit me. I saw the fans lined up outside the door and I told my brother, Dave, and my sister, Trish, to address me as “John Mitchell”.
John Mitchell was a rookie pitcher who the Mets had just called up from the minor leagues. He was around my age at the time, about twenty-one, and nobody really knew who he was or what he looked like. So when we walked out toward the fans my sister and brother asked for my autograph, which I politely signed as “John Mitchell”. They then informed the other fans “That’s John Mitchell!” and the word spread pretty fast because within seconds I had about fifteen or twenty fans surrounding me asking for my autograph.
I signed hats, yearbooks, shirts. One woman even took off her sneaker and I signed that. In the midst of this wave of humanity surrounding me I looked up at my family and friends off to the side stifling laughter as I dutifully signed John Mitchell’s autograph for one fan after another.
It was a rush to be putting one over on people, wondering whether I would be busted at any moment. What made it even funnier was the fact that, standing about twenty feet away from me was a real Mets player, a relief pitcher named Jeff Innis, and he only had about four autograph seekers while I had a mob.
Realizing that the jig might soon be up my Dad came over and nervously said “Um, John… we should go. The car is waiting.”
I signed a couple more items, apologizing and explaining that “The car is waiting”. Luckily, the fact that we had to walk a half a mile to my Dad’s Dodge Dart, which was parked under a bridge to avoid paying for parking, seemed to go unnoticed by the throngs of fans for whom I had just signed. No Major League Baseball player, even a rookie, would have to park a half a mile from the stadium or drive an off-yellow Dodge Dart.
That was my night in the commissioner’s suite at Shea Stadium, which is right now in the process of being demolished with the opening of brand new Citi Field set for this spring. I will miss Shea and the many cherished memories from a lifetime spent attending games, but none moreso than the night my Dad took us to the commissioner’s suite and I left as John Mitchell.