Tonight I met Paul F. Tompkins

Tonight I met Paul F. Tompkins, after listening to his podcast, and many other podcasts where he guest appears, for about two years.

Two years ago, I had no idea who he was. I was just starting to listen to podcasts as a way of getting through the grinding days. You know. Life. I was working on one of the few impressions I had in my toolkit at the time, making wife laugh by going into cake boss mode and complaining that there was no way I could get everything done she asked me to do.

Then I heard Paul F Tompkins' Cake Boss on a podcast, and it was brilliant, much more than I could have ever dreamed of. Here was a gem of a person.

The more I heard him on various podcasts: Doug Loves Movies, Comedy Bang Bang (then Comedy Death Ray), WTF, and many others, the more I came to appreciate this genuine, pleasant person with a cadre of characters and an arsenal of awesome. He started his own podcast as well, the Pod F Tomkast, which is consistently wonderful. All this was a thing to look forward to when trying to stay sane throughout our crappy year. If there's anyone who can understand a crappy year, it's a stand-up comedian, I think. A lot of them have been through some tough times, and hopeless desperation.

Last year, he came to the cities to be in WITS, a show hosted by MPR's John Moe. By then, wife and I were deep in the job hunt, and I would have given anything to be there by then. However, things didn't work out. This year, when I heard that WITS would once again have him, I was excited, but also very poor, unemployed, and couldn't justify it.

My wonderful wife took matters into her own hands. "We're going." She said. She got the tickets for WITS, and then it happened to be the thing to celebrate my first week in my new writing job. It was a wonderful night, and when Paul announced his show on Saturday, wife turned to me and said, "Did you know about it?"

Me: Yes, but I didn't think we could.

Her: You got a job. We're doing this if it means nothing for the next week.

Me: OK.

So tonight, I saw Paul F Tompkins for the first time doing stand-up. It was delightful. Lots of focus on his relationship with his wife, which as a newlywed, I loved. Then he announced that he would be selling DVDs and such after the show.

For a third time, like Peter with Jesus, except in a good way instead of a deny-ey way, in fact the only commonality is the three so it's not really that good a comparison, Wife turned to me and said "Go." 

Here's what went through my head while waiting in the line down the aisle to meet Paul F Tompkins.

"OK, what are you going to say? Is there anything charming in your bucket? Will I need to go to the bathroom before I get to the front of this line? What if I fart? OK, keep it cool. I can be like 'j'accuse! You made my cake boss impression obsolete!" No that's way too creepy. 'I know why you dress up so nice, it's so you are always the best looking dude in a picture.' No, jerky. 'Hey, I'm the one guy who listens to your podcast as you addressed me in the latest addition.' No, it's all so stupid. You know what, why don't you just be yourself?"

So here's what did happen.

Me: Hello

Paul: Hello!

Me: It’s a pleasure to meet you. I'd like to buy your DVD.

Paul: Thank you. Sure.

Me: My wife also wants to take a picture.

Paul: Absolutely.

Me: (sitting down). I love your podcast.

Paul: Thank you.

Me: You know, your podcast follows me on Twitter, and I don't know why.

Paul: Well, the podcast loves those who love it.

Me: Well, thank you so much. And have a wonderful night.

Paul: You too. Thank you.

And that's about it. He was lovely and polite and I hope I was the same. I was shaking as we left the theater. Wife made me thank her 10 times on the way home. She loves her some credit. Unlike Peter. Peter couldn't get the credit of knowing the J-man fast enough away from him. 

To end it, a picture with my head cropped out. This blog is anonymous after all. But it does have an unintentional side effect of making Paul look surprised and pleased to be sitting next to a creepy headless ghost. Ghostcatcher?