MY DAD THE TERRORIST
Posted on 09/05/2008 at 03:51 PM

MY DAD THE TERRORIST

I got off lucky being half Iranian and half Norwegian. People don't know my Ethnic background. My father on the other hand with a first name Houshang will be identified as "One of those" for the rest of his life. "One of those" being the crazy radical Iranian/Middle Easterner. Here's a man who haggles at thrift stores, has been giving free exams and checkups for people for years (he's a doctor), he feeds all the neighborhood cats with everyone laughing when he yells out the back door "here pussy." This is the face of terror?

A 77 year old man whose excitement in life is going to Atlantic City on the bus rather than a car so he gets a free ride, going to cheap auctions to buy junk to give to people. A man who buys used old baseball hats and then puts his name on them incase someone tries to steal it. A man who for the last 38 years has raised 6 kids who've never seen the inside of a prison. Here's a man whose own country imprisoned, tortured and or killed friends and family members solely based on their religious beliefs. To see a man come so far in this country in the last 40 something years just to see him labeled as one of "the bad guys" says something of the progress in this country and world. It's sad to me that to this day I still feel uncomfortable by the reactions I get from people all over this country when they hear my familys background.

As an American (especially being a largely immigrant country) I should never be ashamed of answering where my parents are from, but unfortunately I've let peoples blatant racism keep me from always being honest. It's a constant reminder of how insecure and how much I bow down to people pleasing. Hopefully things will change soon or else I'll be coming to the door when my father calls for the cats.

Tim Homayoon

www.thatcomedyguy.com

www.myspace.com/timhomayoon

IMPORTANT COMEDY LESSON I LEARNED YEARS AGO
Posted on 07/30/2008 at 12:00 AM

Years ago I was taught an important comedy lesson. I was performing at some random bar open mic type of a show where the regulars at the bar were not there to see the show and would heckle nonstop. Some heckles were violent threats. Back then I used to memorize 100's of heckle comebacks. This one show the comic before me lasted a minute or so and walked off telling me it's not worth it to do it to myself. I went onstage and battled the hecklers. It became heated and severly agonizing. I was taking their insults personally and would hurl it right back at them. Finally I caved in and said "Fuck It" and walked off before my time was up (only time in my career.) To make matters worse at the other side of the room hidden in a booth eating I hear "Hey Tim. I saw you up there and had no idea you do comedy." It was my aunt who then insisted on telling family members of my miserable night.

A funny comic by the name of Joe Starr came over to me and said come back the next week and have fun no matter what. Don't let it get to you. I came back the following week and sure enough the same assholes were heckling everybody. I went up and rather than defend myself against the hecklers I lowered my ego and allowed whatever insults to be hurled at me. Not only did I allow the insults but I agreed with them. As a comic it was one of those breakthroughs. A freeing moment. It made me realize that taking myself too seriously was bad for me. It kept me too tight onstage focusing only on my material. An audience can feel when a comic is not having fun even if they are getting laughs. Thinking back I accepted the insults on that show and then told my jokes in a casual rather than forced way. This shut the hecklers up mainly because I made it hard to break me down. Hecklers typically are challenging you and want to be the center of attention so when you deflect their insults and swap them away like they were just an annoying mosquito they tend to feel insignificant and quiet down. I ended the show on a high note being the complete opposite of the week before. Most of all I realized why I became a comedian in the first place and that was to have fun.

Sincerely yours,

Tim Homayoon

www.thatcomedyguy.com

www.myspace.com/timhomayoon

PREJUDICE AGAINST ALL 'MINORITY' COMICS (WOMEN, BLACK, SHORT ETC)
Posted on 07/27/2007 at 12:48 PM

There's no doubt there is prejudice towards female comics and all minority groups in comedy. How many times have we heard from both men and women "I don't find female comics funny at all." "We can't have 2 women on the same show." Same goes for each ethnic group. My girlfriend is also a comedian so I see it first hand because a lot of bookers are too wimpy to say it to my girlfriend's face so that say it me. People's ignorance comes through more when they are talking to someone not of the group they are saying discriminating statements about. (Telling men how unfunny women are, racist black jokes to a white guy etc)

I did a college show at an all women's college which was tied in to a tour I was doing with my girlfriend. I asked the college if it would be alright to allow my girlfriend to go up for a couple of minutes to warm up the crowd. I was told "we don't want a female comic on our stage." This coming from an all female college. They said they had a problem with a female comic about 3 years before (they book comics on a monthly basis) who made fun of them by calling their area hillbillies and telling them she grew up around the mafia (Guess who). I said "My girlfriend's a professional and she's funny. Give her a few minutes and if it's not going well I'll get her offstage." Sure enough she killed so much that after our show the whole crowd went over to her. The people incharge even went as far as saying "We'd like to have you back as part of an all women show." To me they said "Oh Yeah you were funny also."

I have dealt with my own form of prejudice through ageism. I started stand-up at age 16 and wasn't allowed in numerous clubs. People used to make comments and basically heckle me as I was walking to the stage. Who the hell gets heckled before getting onstage? I was an easy target because I was young and wimpy. I toughened up by performing in tough rooms like the Apollo Theatre where when they sense fear they eat you alive. Learning to tell a crowd of 1,500 booing hecklers to go fuck themselves as dangerous as it is, was the perfect way to never be bothered by some douchebag whitetrash drunk thinking he's funny heckling you.

I'm in my early 30's now and still am told I look young so you can imagine how young (+ weighed 120 pounds) I looked. Even as I progressed into becoming a headliner I hear "You look too young for my crowds." Nevermind that I struggled for nearly a decade and a half to build a solid act.

My advice to 'ALL' comics is to just continue to strengthen your act. No one can deny a strong comic. If you are having trouble getting stagetime then create your own. Learn all the business aspects of comedy (booking, marketing, etc) All it takes is a pen and paper to write down material. Hell when a funny idea hits me I say it in my voice recorder on my phone when I don't have a pen. You have to think positive and just know that only your depressive nature will not allow you to grow as a comic. It's a shitty rascist sexist world out there so fuck'em if they can't take a joke from a funny woman (or black guy etc)

Sincerely yours,

Tim Homayoon

www.thatcomedyguy.com

www.myspace.com/timhomayoon

BEING HECKLED AT A 9/11 BENEFIT
Posted on 05/21/2007 at 01:34 PM

Sometimes I have gone on 'Automatic' when being heckled. For instance during a 9/11 benefit the week after it happened, I was performing with all types of acts infront of several dozen firemen at a Church across from where the Twin Towers stood. Actors (Eddie Falco from Sopranos etc) would do monologues, Broadway stars would sing songs and myself and comedian Andrew Donnelly would tell jokes. Basically all the actors and singers would go up infront of the firemen and tell them how grateful they were for their bravity and what heroes they were as tears rolled down their faces as they read their letters instead of singing songs etc.

These firemen were in dirty uniforms since them came directly from Ground Zero. By the time I got up to the podium where the priest usually stands there wasn't a dry eye in the house. I went right into my act to dead silence except for the sniffling of the cryers. Less than a minute into my set I heard firemen talking which turned into heckling. "This guy sucks." "He looks more like Pee Wee Herman." The firemen starting laughing at the hecklers. This is when I went on automatic and kept plugging away. I figured why not take one for the team and let them laugh at my expense. "Is this a comedian?" Taking one for the team can only go so far. Firemen and police have a bad reputation as being unruly audience members. I can feel my boiling point being reached. "Your much funnier than this guy." Finally I figure it's time I say something back. I gather the courage and say some 'probably stock heckler line' that gets drowned out in the ear screeching dispatching radio messages. For the next thirty seconds all you heard was loud dispatches to the firemen to report back as they got their things and left.

Deep down I felt relieved that it was over. Walking back to the performers with their shocked looks of no more audience was no easy task. Some small part in the back of my head thought that I just walked a crowd of heroes in their own benefit.

Tim Homayoon www.thatcomedyguy.com www.myspace.com/timhomayoon

ANOREXIC ELVIS circa 1993 (COSTUME CHARACTER NIGHTMARE #1)
Posted on 12/03/2005 at 06:14 AM

Back in high school and college when I started doing Stand-Up Comedy and acting I needed to make some money to support my career. One of those mistakes was working as costume characters. I was called upon and offered the role of Santa Claus. You read that right...they wanted me to be Santa. I was 115 pounds (all muscle of course) at the time. I turned down the Santa gig so then I was offered their next available gig....Elvis.

I was to be hired as an Elvis Impersonater in Shea Stadium for the New York Mets for their Elvis Night...the anniversary of his death...or birth..who knows. I was told I would simply have to walk around and take a few pictures and that would be it. Simple enough. Oh yeah I would be paid $150. Problem is Elvis rental costumes literally cost that much for a one day rental. Screw that..."Give me the $25 costume. The Halloween edition."

My assumption was that being it was Elvis Night...there would be several Elvises not just one Elvi (Yes I typed Elvi to show singularity). So I get to Shea Stadium in my beat up 1979 Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser Station Wagon. I was escorted to the dressing room where I changed into my costume. Upon opening the door in full costume...it was if I had snot hanging from my nose. Ever had a drunk relative say something so offensive that the whole table just stares down in a painful silence? It was too late to turn around.

My first assignment was to interview people in the stands about what their favorite Elvis song was. The result was to be replayed back on the big screen. I couldn't believe the answers "Mrs. Robinson!" Good answer asshole. Here's this 115 lb Elvis in a piece of shit Elvis Halloween costume walking around with a camera man filming me getting stalked. Nothing like hearing 20,000 New York City douche bag fathers desperate for their moment of glory with their son on the big screen in centerfield. "Fucking over here Elvis asshole."

My next assignment is to walk around with the Met's mascot Mr. Met. Mr. Met was a huge baseball with eyes. It weighed 40 pounds and was so big that the kid inside the costume could barely bend his knees. He had 2 poles inside the costume that controlled the eyes and mouth. I was told to circle Mr. Met non-stop. I assumed so everyone from all angles could get pictures but no...this was NY...I was his bodyguard. I had to circle Mr. Met to protect him from middle aged men running up to 'Cow Tip' Mr. Met with their punches. They have now changed the size of the ball to only cover the head of the person wearing it.

While picking up Mr. Met off the dirty floor I was now told to run onto the Met's dugout after the next out and dance. So much for just being hired to take a few pictures. All of a sudden 20,000 people hear "Ladies and Gentlemen we have a special guest tonight on the New York Mets Dugout. It's none other than Elvis." This is when I realized I should have stayed in school. I get onto the Mets dugout and dance like I'm having seizures. I was not an Elvis fan at the time so I had no idea what his dance moves were like. I was greeted with half of the crowd yelling "We love you Elvis." And, the other half yelling "You Suck!" "He looks like a lesbian." To top that off I was later played the tape of the Mets sportscasters heckling me. "I hope they didn't pay him money because I'd want a refund." "That's not Elvis...that's Prince." "This is the new Elvis...Anorexic Elvis" All this and it was only the third inning.

For the fourth inning they wanted me to wait in the stands with the audience to wait until the last out. Nothing more humiliating than sitting next to a 6 year old boy telling his mother. "Mom...Elvis is sitting next to us." ("Elvis is dead dear.") "No look. He's right next to us."

When the last out arrives I am announced on the visitors dugout...The Montreal Expos. I'm on the dugout trying to lip sync and dance to the songs when all of a sudden I am hit so hard with handfuls of sunflower seeds and ice that I am nearly knocked off of the dugout. I turn around to find out who threw it and all I see is 10 of the Expos players laughing their asses off. Their pitcher Carlos Perez was the instigator so I turned around to give him the finger but I was on the big screen so I had to change it to a kiss.

For the seventh inning I am supposed to go out with Mr. Met at homeplate and sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame. Simple enough you'd think. Only problem was Mr. Met had his head off in the locker room and his assistants weren't there to help him put it back on. He was literally in tears because they were going to announce us at home plate. The head was so wide and heavy that I couldn't lift it onto the kid's body. Luckily we were able to roll it against the wall and get it on.

Nobody warns you that a little gust of wind turns into a tornado at the home plate gate. As soon as we come out to sing...Mr. Met's plastic guitar and one side burn is flying around in circles. We finished up and went back into the tunnel. Upon opening the door I was amazed to see about 50 kids waiting patiently to get my autograph. How do you explain to a kid that a 1993 Elvis autograph is worth nothing. Not only is it not worth anything, it actually devalues the rest of the autographs. They have no clue. I felt so bad that some of the balls these kids were giving me were passed down generation to generation. My autograph would ruin their whole ball. Imagine seeing a ball Nolan Ryan, Tom Seaver, Dwight Gooden ....Elvis. Too bad. I wanted to practice being a celebrity so Elvis it was.

To sum it up, believe it or not I was given a good review and was rehired as Anorexic Elvis for a woman's 40th Birthday party. That party ended up being worse than the Elvis Night but I'll get into those details another time. I guess I should have stuck with being Santa.

Tim Homayoon www.THATCOMEDYGUY.com