I love Moshe Kasher. He is a very funny comedian; irreverent, arrogant, yet self-deprecating as well.
Two years ago Andrew decided he was going to try stand-up comedy. He was, of course, very funny and very good at it; but, he didn’t like doing it that much. Also, while I support him and want him to be happy, it was not great trying to deal with his INSANITY for a week before a performance. That year, Andrew got himself into the Bridgetown Comedy Festival and I became a volunteer so that I could see the shows for free.
Before one of his sets, we went to see some other comedians perform. As an improvisor – and a very funny woman – I resent people thinking women are not funny. One of the shows Andrew and I went to was hosted by a female comic and let me just tell you, she is the reason people think women are not funny. Apparently, she thought telling the crowd, “comedy is funny” over and over again, to try to get them to laugh, was the same as performing comedy. When we left the show, I told Andrew that I didn’t understand why comedians didn’t have friends who tell them after a set, “Hey, I see what you were trying to do there with that bit. But, I think next time, instead of the punchline you used, you should take up waiting tables instead.”
Overall, we had fun. Andrew did really well. In the end, however, it is not really what he wants to do.
Because of my volunteer status, I got in to see some free shows. My friend Bill told me about Moshe Kasher and we went to see him perform. I instantly fell in love. Bill said it was the third set he’d seen Moshe do and that each one was different (some comics performed the same set for each of their allotted performances) and brilliant.
Later that night I had to actually perform volunteer duties and sit at a table selling t-shirts.
Moshe Kasher came up to the table.
I was star-struck, but managed to say hi and introduce myself.
With a name like Hadas it is the easiest thing in the world to create a Jew-connection. He said something to me in Hebrew, I responded. He seemed kind of shy. Then someone came by and collected him, or something. The memory is vague.
Later that night I Facebook friended him.
He friended me back.
Every once in a while I comment on something he says in Facebook.
I am trying not to be a stalker.
About a month ago I told Andrew that I wanted to go on a date. So he took me to Live Wire. It is a radio show on public radio that is recorded in Portland. Think Garrison Keillor only less prairie and more hipsters. It turned out that Moshe Kasher was on Live Wire that night promoting his new book (which you should all totally buy). Live Wire records two shows in front of the same audience, with an intermission between each.
At intermission I wanted to go say hi to my BFF Moshe. But, he apparently had another gig that night and hightailed it out of the theater.
So, I was going to write on his Facebook wall:
“Hey great seeing you at the Live Wire show tonight.”
But that felt stalkerish.
So, I was going to Facebook message him:
“Hey, we met in Portland a while back and I just think you are super funny and I saw you tonight at Live Wire and I really enjoyed it…”
I almost filled out a restraining order against myself at that one.
The thing is – how do you, as a fan, not sound sycophantic and not sound like a stalker but still manage to let the person know you are a fan, and that you enjoy what they do, and that they would totally want to be your new bestie if they met you because you have the same taste in humor and hipster eyewear?
I guess, probably write a blog about them.
That’s not weird or cyberstalk-ish.