I know the question on the tip of nobody’s tongue: “Where the fuck has Adam Hammer been?”
Twenty twelve was a rough year for me. In April my dad went to jail for what the state calls “Lewd and Lascivious Acts With A Minor Aged 14-16”, what my friends call “some sick ass pedophile shit” and what I call “good old fashioned creepy old man dick wigglin’.”
This threw me into a spiral which pushed my marriage and career to the brink of collapse, BUT managed to greatly improve my alcohol tolerance. It helps to find the positive.
After five months of my dad keeping his dirty shames a secret from his family, never telling us what actually happened and letting us find out by combing through his Facebook messages between him and strange men of all ages, he died. In jail.
Turns out you don’t get the best cancer treatment in jail. I guess I’ll have to rethink my retirement plans.
Remember that year you found out your cancer-ridden, super-Christian dad had a secret gay life, and that in an effort to mentor teens that were questioning their own sexuality he may have crossed the line into some To Catch A Predator-type stuff? And then remember how you got super angry not only at the situation but at the fact that the man who taught you about truth and consequences was living a lie his entire life? And then you struggled with the fact that if your dad hadn’t been such a pussy and just lived life as an openly gay man that, you wouldn’t even exist? And then you were such a depressed, drunk asshole all the time that you pushed your wife away emotionally? And then remember every time you thought about the situation your blood would boil and any little thing would set you off and so you broke your hand because punching holes in your walls was a better option than punching your wife?
I know, I know. Tale as old as time. We all go through that at some point. It just usually happens in our formative years when it’s easier to rebound. Not when you’re 30 and you think you have a pretty firm grasp on what your reality is.
Well, as you can imagine, during all that time I was punching things and questioning everything I ever knew, I forgot to keep booking myself gigs. Doh! I went from doing 5-12 shows a week before my dad died, to doing a show or two a month. So I sort of fell off everyone’s radar. And when you live in a city of 9 million people where 12 million of those people are comedians vying for the same 23 spots a week, it helps your comedy calendar to stay on the radar.
So I’ve decided to start my own show to get back on the radar. I do it every Monday night at The Virgil at 4519 Santa Monica Bl in Los Angeles. It’s called Feedback. It starts at 10pm. And it’s free.
It’s a one hour talk show I co-host with Razzle Dangerously and it gets really weird, and really dark, and really fucking funny thanks to our writing partners Jon Huck and Patrick Keane. If you liked how I pushed the boundaries before, you’ll love what we’re doing now that I have no fucks left to give. And we’ll even have you home by midnight!
Our fourth show is this Monday 10/14 after Hot Tub and it would be nice to have some people there. Otherwise this show will go the way of my dad very soon.
This week we have:
Adam Ray (The Heat, Comedy Central)
Zach Sherwin (aka McMrNapkins)
Ed Greer (funny)
Special guest: Jon Huck – The Hollywood Outsider
And a thrilling round of Baseball Trivia with Patrick Keane
Feel free to share this post and invite 300 of your closest friends. I need all the help I can get. I’m a shitty promoter. And don’t forget to follow me on Twitter and add me on Facebook.
Enjoy our promo video: