Having lost my job last November and facing other losses if something good doesn’t happen soon, I’ve been looking for ways to ease my stress level. About five weeks ago I went to the emergency room with chest pains. The good news is my heart and lungs appear to be fine. The bad news is I still feel a lot of stress and my blood pressure is borderline — it runs anywhere from 140/90 to 130/85 or so.

While on vacation last week (paid for by my in-laws, which, trust me, defines “Faustian bargain”), I took a Tai Chi class. It was great, and it reminded me of the benefits of meditation.

I had taken a meditation class back in the ’80s and loved it. The class was held in an old church in Lexington, Mass. I remember two specific things:

1) We had to take off our shoes and put then in a coatroom adjacent to the room where we were meditating. After the first class I discovered that some unenlightened fuck had stolen money from my wallet, which I had placed in one shoe. Later I learned the other shoe had been molested by a priest.

2) After the second class, a young woman there was really hitting on me hard, which, being a relative rarity in my life, was both flattering and not quite believable. It was like I almost had to assure her I wasn’t the Dalai Lama. I didn’t take advantage of the situation because I’m a fool I had a girlfriend at the time.

I meditated on my own for a few weeks after the class ended, but sadly allowed the practice to fade from my life as I got caught up in the kinds of things that elevate one’s blood pressure to borderline levels. Plus, having an incredibly restless mind — in other words, the perfect candidate to benefit from meditation — I found it nearly impossible to sit still on my own and focus. My mistake and my loss.

Fast forward to yesterday. Over the weekend I had discovered a holistic health center in Saratoga Springs, N.Y., that offers free meditation classes twice a month at the local library. Perfect! An opportunity to get back on the path to inner peace and ease the incredible tension I feel.

Naturally I was running a little late for the 12:30 p.m. starting time and found my stress level rising as I fought midday downtown traffic. I got to the library right at 12:29, but couldn’t find a parking space — except for the very last one! A cosmic sign! I grabbed the blue sofa pillow I had brought to sit on, ran in and asked where the meditation class was being held.

Directed downstairs, I hustled to the room just in time. But there was nobody there. Maybe I was in the wrong room, I thought. No, it says right here, “Mindful Mediation — 12:30 p.m.” (Yes, it said “mediation,” not “meditation.”)

I waited for about 10 minutes, figuring professional meditators might have a looser concept of time than I do. But in the end, there was no meditation. I was crushed; at this point I would have settled for the mediation.

A woman in the library told me the same thing had happened two weeks ago. The holistic center had reserved the room, and then no one showed up.

I left, downcast but determined to return again, and comforted by the knowledge that, at least this time, no one stole my money. Just a little of my spirit.

"I got some for you too"

Believe it or not, we may not have seen Mel Gibson’s career prospects hit bottom yet, despite the release of a secretly recorded audio tape in which the perpetually apoplectic actor threatens to kill Russian girlfriend Oksana Grigorieva. (Details and the actual recording at RadarOnline.)

Already under investigation for domestic violence, Gibson now has a deserved reputation as an anti-Semitic, racist, sexist, drunken, violent asshole, with sparkly blue eyes. His problem, of course, is that his repellent behavior and incoherent rampages are documented by both Oksana’s tapes and police reports. Could this Hollywood meltdown possibly get any worse?

Of course it could! Here are five ways Mel Gibson’s reputation in Hollywood and throughout the world could plummet even more.

5. Confesses to killing Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, then setting up O.J.

4. Starts dating Dakota Fanning

3. Launches necrophilia website — Gibson’s Ghoulish Delights

2. During one-hour live special broadcast on ESPN, announces he’s signing with the Taliban

1. The Passion of the Christ, Part II

(More Celebrities)

Charlie Murphy’s Most Disturbing ‘True Hollywood Stories’

Early Memories of Dave Chappelle

‘Hey, Where’s Dirty Ol’ Bitch?’

(More Humor)

EPA: Day of Prayer Fails to Halt Gulf Spill

5 Other Jobs That Are Just Like Being President of the United States

General McChrystal’s Top 10 Excuses for Dissing Obama Team in Rolling Stone

If the Gettysburg Address Were Run Through Cursebird

In calling for a Day of Prayer, the GOP governors and national party leaders had hoped to pre-empt a rumored attempt by President Obama to subject God to a “Chicago-style shakedown,” which, if successful, would have given the Democrats momentum heading into fall’s midterm elections.

Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour disputed claims that the Day of Prayer had failed, arguing that as a federal agency, the EPA was under the control of Obama, the known anti-Christ, and thus could not be trusted to report objective data.

Barbour said an environmental team from The 700 Club will soon file its own report from the Gulf.

(More Humor and Politics)

5 Other Jobs That Are Just Like Being President of the United States

General McChrystal’s Top Ten Excuses for Dissing Obama Team in Rolling Stone

If the Gettysburg Address Were Run Through Cursebird

On Wednesday’s Fox and Friends show, host Gretchen Carlson, discussing whether President Obama should fire General Stanley McChrystal for his negative comments in Rolling Stone about the White House team, likened her job to that of the president:

“This is what being President of the United States is all about. It’s these tough, huge, monumental decisions. It’s not about how you run a campaign, it’s not about whether or not you’re popular, it’s not about whether you’re a celebrity or good-looking or tall or short. It’s in a time of crisis, making these executive decisions. It’s just like our job…what’s the role of an anchor during huge breaking news? You remember growing up? You’d tune to the television, and that one moment during the year, they would have to carry a story all along, It’s the same thing as being the President of the United States!”

While it’s easy to mock Carlson (which I did on Today in Stupid), upon further reflection I totally see her point. She’s on the firing line every day, and not just during a crisis. Each time Carlson walks into the Fox studio, she faces monumental decisions. What dress to wear, what kind of eyeliner, which Tea Party talking points to push. It’s endless pressure!

But it’s not just Carlson. When you think about it, many other jobs in this country are just as hard as the president’s and require the same cool-headed decision-making. Here’s a small sample:

Job: Rodeo clown

Sample Executive Decisions: Happy or sad face? Joy buzzer or squirting lapel flower?

Job: Stand-up comic

Sample Executive Decisions: Two drinks or three before set? F-bombs or work clean? (Fuck it, f-bombs.)

Job: Health insurance claims executive

Sample Executive Decisions: Deny treatment coverage to cancer patient before or after lunch? Lexus or BMW?

Job: Porn star

Sample Executive Decisions: Black or red dildo? Dimpled or smooth?

Job: Sarah Palin

Sample Executive Decisions: Spout ignorance or nonsense? Trash Levi or “lamestream” media? Black or red dildo?

So, really, when you think of it, we’re all like the president!

10. Figured with Lady Gaga on cover of Rolling Stone, no one would even notice what he said on inside pages.

9. Sandbagged by weaselly media aide Duncan Boothby.

8. Was “taking a bullet” for Commander in Chief by creating new controversy that would make public forget about Gulf oil spill.

7. Anyone who thinks this is a big deal wants the terrorists to win.

6. Succumbed to reporter Michael Hastings’ “Chicago-style shakedown.”

5. Was fed his lines by former President Bush.

4. Saw opportunity to curry favor with Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, who he eventually hopes to shag. Is that so wrong?

3. Assumed that under modern journalism rules, everything was automatically off the record.

2. Did I mention that anyone who thinks this is a big deal wants the terrorists to win?

1. It was the booze talking.

Charlie is the older brother of comedian and actor Eddie Murphy. When Eddie’s career began skyrocketing in the ’80s, Charlie was there, working as part of Eddie’s entourage. In “True Hollywood Stories,” Charlie recounts his experiences playing basketball with Prince, rolling (and fighting) with Rick James and, in this segment, his run-in with a paralyzed former New England Patriots receiver during a dinner in Chicago. The truly fucked-up shit begins around the 6:15 mark.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-tpzA4wt_o

Oh, and if the ignorant comment by a racist asshole who calls himself kotapaka is still near the top of the page, feel free to vote it down. Somebody should stomp on his fucking mouth.

So either 1) Wikipedia has his birthdate wrong, 2) Dave was 17 but said he was 19, 3) Whoever told me Chappelle was 19 either was wrong or high (or both), or 4) I was wrong or high (or both). All are equal possibilities.

I mentioned in the earlier post that the Comedy Cafe’s regular open-mic host, The Fat Doctor, always introduced Chappelle as someone who was “going to be a star.” And you could see why, especially knowing how young Dave was. It’s not like Chappelle was blowing the other open-micers off the stage, it’s just that he clearly was a cut above them. Dave had more polish than anybody there — no hesitation in his delivery, no forgetting jokes, no monotone, good eye contact with the crowd, a complete lack of discernible nervousness or fear.

Having said that, Chappelle still wasn’t great by any stretch. He was just the best of an open-mic crowd. Dave wasn’t nearly as good as any number of comics you’d see back then on “Evening at the Improv,” the Budd Friedman stand-up comedy show that ran for years on A&E. But how could he be? They were seasoned, professional comedians. Chappelle was a work-in-progress, someone who had training (he had gone to — or maybe still attended — a performing-arts high school in D.C.) but lacked the years-long experience of trying out jokes, honing them, discarding the weak ones — in other words, building an act.

In the video below, Chappelle uses a joke that was in his set back in early 1991. Actually, it was more than in his set, it was one of his big laugh-getters. He might even have closed with it at the time (at least at the open-mic nights). It doesn’t come until the 0:58 mark of the video. It’s his “Batman” bit.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsowYYv8suI

Word for word, Chappelle’s “Batman” joke in this video — which probably is from a performance in the 1994-1998 range — is virtually identical to the way I had seen him do it several times in 1991, especially how he delivers the punchline. What’s different in the video is his much stronger facial and body gestures, his use of space and vocal tone in the set-up — in other words, he now is performing the joke, not just telling it. Which comes from familiarity with the material, stage time and confidence. And if there’s one thing you sense from watching Dave Chappelle perform, it’s his confidence and apparent sense of ease.

I emphasize apparent because when you watch Chappelle in the clips below being interviewed by James Tilton for a segment of Inside the Actors Studio, he appears awkward and uncomfortable (though humble and honest). Dave talks about his early days in stand-up, bombing at New York’s Apollo open-mic night (and how it liberated him), and his fondness for weed.

There are some good clips from Chappelle’s show that I’ll feature from time to time in The Bonedaddy Kingdom because, well, they’re funny.

It was one of the best days of my life, not because of the adrenaline-fueled euphoria you initially feel when you lose a job you loath, but because it gave me an excuse to start drinking in the morning. I’m kidding: I don’t need an excuse. (Double kidding!)

No, what made it great was how I responded: I stuck to the game plan I had inside my head for when that day might come. I expended almost no energy on anger, thoughts of litigation or fantasies of waterboarding. That I was looking at online porn when the CEO called surely helped cushion the blow. Whatever the reason, I kept my thoughts positive and forward-looking.

It helped immensely that I curbed the natural impulse to seek support, to tell others. Those conversations often increase your stress level because people react with such palpable concern and projected dread, they inadvertently signal to you that you’re absolutely fucked. Better to reach that conclusion yourself on Day 2. That way you own it.

The thing is, I’m not fucked. I have enough severance to last awhile. Certainly long enough to get some business plans off the ground. I prefer to focus my efforts on building my own things, as opposed to launching a futile search for employment in an economy where jobs continue to vanish and workers no longer have even the illusion of security. The new economy requires a different mindset, a bold formula for success based on self-reliance and entrepreneurialism. I believe the primary elements of this formula include:

Multiple revenue streams
Individual businesses
Leveraging social networks
Funny guy needs income

I call it the MILF System, and with it I intend to flourish in the new economy. I strongly encourage all of you to MILF it. You’ll be glad you did.

“I wrote ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ and ‘Casey.’”

“Who’s Casey? A girl in your class?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like her?”

(Pause) “Yes.”

“Do you think she’s cute?”

“I knew you would ask me that.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with thinking a girl’s cute. And if you ever have any questions about girls, you can ask Daddy, because I can tell you a lot. Do you have any questions about girls?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Dad, what do girls like: soda or diet Sprite?”

I’ll have to get back to him on that one.

The dad and I both laughed. His boy, who looked maybe 2 1/2, was talking about me because I was wearing a hat. The little guy was staring up at me, smiling.

“I’m not a cowboy,” I said.

“Then why are you wearing a cowboy hat?” he replied.

Not a cowboy hat

The thing is, it really isn’t a cowboy hat; more of a modified porkpie. But it’s not like the kid has ever been to a haberdashery, so any explanation would have been over his head. Plus he was such a delightful young lad!

“I just like my hat,” I explained.

“Oh,” he said.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“No,” said the little fucking brat.