Buckle up

It was a beautiful ride from Austin to Tucson. Throughout the 13-hour drive, the landscape continually transformed. What began with green trees became red rock and finally desert. The transformation even extended to our van. Every winged insect in the Southwest kamikaze’d us, transforming our windshield from a protective plate of glass into an abstract impressionist canvas.

If we had still been in still Austin, corduroy-clad hipsters would’ve considered it a masterpiece of modern art. We can just hear their pretentious interpretations now.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

You can tell how crazy a state is by looking at its billboards. Texas and Arizona were neck-and-neck. The first signs that struck us were construction zone signs warning not to hit the workers. Not because you’d end a human life, but because it would cost you $10,000 dollars.

We just loved that it was a financial deterrent -- not a moral issue for murdering someone with your car. The next sign that caught our attention cautioned motorists not to pick up hitchhikers, as they could be escaped prisoners. Thanks for the warning - we’d never have been able to identify prisoners without it.

Here’s a crazy thought: maybe they could just not let inmates escape. How lazy do the guards have to be? It’s not like there's anywhere for prisoners to hide. There’s only one road and it stretches into eternity. In any direction, you’ve got 100 miles of visibility. They must spot escapees from the watchtower and sigh “Well, we put signs up”.

The last noteworthy sign alerted motorists to wind, and it was a roadside warning we could actually heed. Our van is the least aerodynamic vehicle in existence and tall vehicles get blown over all the time.

The sign was memorable due to its theoretical nature. It didn’t say “Caution: High Wind Zone” or “Warning: Severe Wind Gusts”. It read “High Winds May Exist”. We liked that the sign maker treated the existence of wind with the conviction of an agnostic. It’s nice that their philosophy degree was finally put to use.

Hot hot heat

Weather wise, we got to Arizona just in time -- right before the summer heat  really kicked in. You probably know Arizona is hot, but what you may not know is it’s a ‘dry heat’. We know this, because it’s the only thing people in Arizona talk about. You could meet someone and ask “What are some good hikes out here?” and they’d reply “Haha yeah, it really is a dry heat”.

At our first show, I decided to open my set with “Do you guys like dry heat out here?” and the audience exploded. They loved it. I followed up with “That was a joke, I know you love it - it’s all you fuckin’ talk about” and the room deflated. They were hurt. It was like they opened up about a deep, dark secret and I spat in their face. In the end I won them back, but only with concentrated effort.

The next night I was planning to fuck with the crowd by saying “Man, it’s humid as hell out here!”, but after witnessing the anguish caused by the last joke, I feared the audience might have a seizure.

The show was a lot of fun. It was a two parter - the first half was regular old comedy, the second half cat-themed comedy (once a month they hold shows that have a specific comedic theme, and this time it happened to be cats).

We saw another cool thing at the show that was a testament to the therapeutic value of comedy. One of the comedians had been involved in a terrible a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury. It impaired his speech and made it difficult to get around. Despite the challenges, he got on stage, talked about it, and was hilarious. He made light of the situation and found a positive way to deal with it. It was inspiring to see this guy making the best of a bad situation.

Overall there was a great comedy scene in Tucson. Good shows and friendly, welcoming people. Highly recommended for any traveling comics!

The next day we had a show in Phoenix.