NY Hustle - Nov 23rd - 2007

NY Hustle

Friday, 23rd November

I stepped out of the 42nd street subway station into a cold February day. People walked hand in hand. I trudged through Times Square with my head down. I didn’t want anybody to see me. Not for the next hour anyway. It had been over a year since we started the comedy room in the back of Joe Franklin’s Restaurant. Me and my ‘comedy friends.’ It was a simple concept. We ran a comedy room (essentially a microphone stand in front of a bunch of chairs) in the back of a restaurant located a block from Times Square. No more scraping for 1 am spots around town. We could book ourselves as many times as we wanted and practice our craft -- for a price. “Here you go, Shetty.” Jake stuffed a handful of colored flyers into my mitten. “Where is everybody?” I asked. “Just us barking tonight and Melissa working the door. Everybody else is out of town.” I hated barking. ‘Barking’ is going out into the streets and recruiting strangers for our comedy show. On most nights, we had 6 comics to help pack the room. 5 on the street, 1 to stay at the door and collect money. Because we were understaffed, tonight would be harder. We barked once a night, twice on Friday/Saturday (weekend late shows). We were there throughout the year: summer, winter, fall, winter, spring, winter. It was such a part of my life that when I think of NY, that’s all I remember. The corner of 45th and Broadway. The lingering stench of the garbage cans. The neon ‘Lindy’s” sign glowing beside me. The freezing wind. In four years, I had blended into the scenery, no different than a street lamp. Jake and I headed out the front door. Like two soldiers stepping onto the Vietnam battlefield, we went our separate ways. “See you in an hour.” “Comedy show!” I yelled from my corner. A lady stopped. “Who’s on it?” “Me!” She rolled her eyes and continued walking. The cold started eating away at my fingers. A half hour went by. 30 minutes of ‘No thanks’ ‘We have reservations,’ and ‘Sure, I’ll come back later.” I gave a flyer to a passing man. A minute later, the paper came back to me, tumbling with the wind along the sidewalk. “Forget this. I’m done.” I started walking back to the subway. I turned the street corner, stopping dead in my tracks. What I saw has stayed with me everyday since. It was a 25 year old man. His weathered face, tired eyes, no smile. In his left hand was a stack of colored flyers. I stepped closer to the glass doors. What the hell has happened to me? My phone started ringing. “Hello?” Jake’s voice yelled at the other end. “I just got two people in!” I need some help here!” I turned around and went back with a new sense of determination. “Comedy show!” An old man side-stepped past me. I quickly ran passed him and asked again. “It’s really good! Think it over!” He grumbled and took my flyer. That’s how it was. People still didn’t want my flyers, but it wasn’t going to stop me from trying. “HERE! TAKE THIS FLYER!” “I SAID NO!” “WELL THEN, BURN THIS FOR HEAT!” 300 flyers in my hand thinned out. 200… 100… 50… and finally nothing. I met Jake at the entrance. “Good job, Shetty.” We peered into the comedy room. I couldn’t believe it. Every chair was full. It was always interesting for me to see a stranger on the street and then to see him inside with his coat off. “You want to go first or second?” Jake asked. “It doesn’t matter.” I replied. It really didn’t. Looking back, the shows in itself meant nothing, but what I did to perform meant everything. ~Tarun

Russell Peters - Sept 18th - 2007

Russell Peters

Tuesday, 18th September

So I was checking my inbox the other day and I got this e-mail. “Tarun, do you hang out with Russell Peters? Are you guys doing a show together soon?” Well, there is no show, but I’ve gotten a few e-mails like this so I thought the following story was relevant: When I was doing comedy in NY, I randomly came across this comic named Russell Peters. I knew he was some guy in Canada, but that’s about it. So I was pretty surprised a few years later when his video was being forwarded to me on the internet. My mom called me up ‘have you seen this guy Russell Peters?’ Now, I’m pretty set in my own ways. I learned early on that show business is a race against yourself. If you think otherwise then you’re an idiot and you should quit now. Still, I was annoyed that people kept mentioning this guy to me because we’re both Indian. “Russell Peters, Russell Peters” Even my boss at work asked ‘Tarun, you do stand-up comedy, can you get me an interview with Russell Peters?” ENOUGH! I also used to take boxing classes with my friend Adam. There was a big fight on HBO and Adam calls me up. ‘Hey man, I met a comic at the Laugh Factory and he invited me to watch the fight at this house. I mentioned you and he said to bring anybody I want, wanna go?" "Yeah, what's his name?" "Russell Peters.” SOOOOO…. a few days later I’m in Hollywood at the edge of Russell’s driveway. I was just standing there looking at his house thinking, ‘this is not a good idea.’ I say this because although my two very best friends are stand-up comics, I find a lot of comedians irritating, especially those that are always ‘on’ which sometimes seems like everybody. I've also been doing comedy for 10 years and my closest friends have been in the trenches with me. I didn't want to meet anybody new. I turned around to go home when the 12 pack of Coronas slipped through the grocery bag I was carrying and crashed to the cement. "NICE JOB, MAN!” I turn around and there was Russell pulling up in his car with a big smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and started picking up the glass. Without going into too much detail, Russell gave me a tour of his house, showed me his DJ equipment and even made me a hamburger. I learned that the guy has been doing comedy some 17 + years. He has paid so many showbiz dues that somebody owes him money. He didn’t even know me but went more than out of his way to accommodate a total stranger. An hour later we were on his living room couch and he’s like ‘mind if I call a few friends?” Twenty minutes later I’m watching the fight and am sitting between Adam Corolla and David Allan Grier. (I know i don't have to mention this, but to me, it's the coolest part of the story. Adam told me that he used to be a carpenter and a boxing trainer!) It just goes to show, you can’t base anybody off what they seem like on TV or any pre-judged notions. I’ve only seen Russell a few times after that, and he's always extremely nice. (except for the time I tried to take him down upstairs at the Laugh Factory and he put me in a jiu-jitsu hold) other than that – he’s cool. If you haven’t heard of him, I recommend you check out his webpage at russellpeters.com or buy his comedy DVD ‘Outsourced’ which is probably available on his webpage. And if you still don't like him, go over to his house. He makes a great hamburger. Thanks Russell! --tarun

Stupid Gigs - Aug 22nd - 2007

Stupid Gigs

Wednesday, 22nd August

This journal entry is about a stupid gig I did about 6 years ago. I’m just telling you right now so you know. There’s no moral or message or any inspiration of hope. It’s just another gig, one of many, that I probably shouldn’t have done. If you’re still with me then you’re welcome to read on… So one day my friend Adam Hunter calls me up. I’ve known him for a long time, and at the time we were still passing out flyers together on the NY streets for stage time. ‘Tarun, wanna open for me?’ ‘Where?’ ‘Just show up at Chelsea Piers tomorrow at 11pm.’ ‘Done’ I liked opening for my friends. It was easy money and I only had to do about 20 minutes of material. (Which was all I really had at the time) Kind of like just warming up the audience and getting out of there. Perfect for an up and coming comedian. I show up the next night and Adam is standing by the docks. “Where’s the show?” “There!” He points to a half-sized cruise ship floating next to us. It sat peacefully, floating in the water, a stark contrast to the absolute doom that awaited us. “Excuse me?” Adam had big smile ‘It’s a high school prom show!” Oh God, did I hate these shows. They used to have them at New York Comedy Club at 2 am in the morning. The club would basically cart in about 80 high school kids who just finished their prom for a magical nightcap of stand-up comedy. What a dream! I didn’t care. It was 50 bucks. Being a comic is like being a prostitute with a microphone. “Let’s go!” We board the boat with the kids. At the time, both of us looked young enough to be in high school. However, like most of the high school prom shows I’ve performed for, this was an inner city school. Kids are speaking Spanish, wearing doo-rags with tuxedos, America’s future! We push off and the ship chugs around the harbor. Adam and I hang out outside by the lounge chairs. The ship sucked. It was dingy, the paint was peeling and it smelled of rotten fish. ‘Having fun?’ Adam asks. ‘The best.’ About forty-minutes into the voyage the DJ, a big fat guy who’s sweated through his shirt, approaches. ‘Which one of you is first? “Me. Tarun Shetty.” He shoves a wireless microphone into my hand and we follow him inside to a small dance hall. The first thing I noticed was how small the room was. All the kids were compacted into this tiny room, making it unbelievably hot. Rap music blared from two giant amps while a hanging strobe light shined red blue and green colors onto the wooden floor. Still, the kids were having fun. A night away from their parents and the pressures of school -- a taste of freedom. Suddenly, the music stops. The DJ’s Voice sounds from the speakers. “Everybody get off the floor!” A tiny spotlight from the DJ booth illuminates me. The kids look confused. The DJ gave me no intro whatsoever. For all they know, I’m the captain of the ship. I momentarily freeze like a deer in the headlights before launching into my act. “So I’m from New Hampshire, Anybody here from New Hampshire?” Silence. I do another 3 minutes before people start voicing their displeasure. “PUT ON THE MUSIC!” “BOOOOOO!” People are shouting, yelling profanities. Obviously, this wasn’t comedy. I was just some guy interrupting a prom. I do 5 more minutes and introduce Adam. I don’t really remember how Adam did. Maybe I blocked it out of my memory or I left the room in search of a lifeboat. Either way, this had to be one of my top 5 worst gigs. Adam and I made it back to the shore that night. I think we hid somewhere on the boat, in complete denial, bragging to each other that we were both incredibly funny and the crowd loved us. Although a monetary victory, I would later use the money several years later to pay a therapist and help cure the irreparable damage showbusiness has had on my mental psyche. It was just another gig. That’s all. This one just happened to be really, really stupid. Tarun

KO Kid - June 16th - 2007

KO KID

Saturday, 16th June

I have a lot of rage. I know I don’t seem like it, but I do. I keep it bottled away, which I’ve learned isn’t a good thing. So last year, I was driving somewhere in Hollywood and passed by a faded sign that read ‘Wildcard Boxing Gym.’ You couldn’t even see the gym from the road, you had to turn into the lot and drive in. I’ll always remember the first time I saw it. It didn’t even look like a gym. It was on the second floor of a decrepit two story building above a Chinese Laundromat. The paint was peeling, the window blinds closed. From inside I could hear the sounds of clenched fists hitting a speed bag. I walked in and everyone seemed to just stop what they were doing and stare. All the fighters were ragged and had this menacing look. I reached into my pocket and made sure my wallet was secure. I had discovered a secret boxing lair. In the land of beauty, fame and dreams was a place of blood, sweat and reality. The walls were lined with mirrors and cutout pictures of well-chiseled boxers. An old boxing ring was in the center of the room while large heavy bags hung from the ceilings. This was the real deal. I started working out that day and have continued to make a trip to Wildcard twice a week. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to learn and respect the art of boxing and work off a lot of stress. I’m not a bad, but certainly far from great or being considered a ‘prospect.’ I’ve been in the ring enough times with my trainer, Jason, to learn that I always drop my hands, and I get exhausted after a few rounds. Jason is a former pro fighter. He is smaller than me, but won the New York Golden Gloves boxing award. He is a cool guy who never made the Olympic team, but one day hopes to be an actor like everyone else in this town. I get along with almost everyone who works out there. The key word is ‘almost.’ The first time I saw ‘Baby Drago’ was a chance encounter. I was headed to my car and he was shadow boxing outside on the street. He was a white kid with a crew cut who always wore a gold warm-up jacket. He looks like a smaller version of the bad guy from Rocky 4 so I nicknamed him ‘Baby Drago.’ He is also very skilled with his hands and seemed to have been boxing a lot longer than me. Sometimes when I worked out, I’d catch him watching. I thought he was measuring me up. We had the same proportions. Height, weight, arm reach. Which means, if we were real fighters, we’d be in the ring together. One day I was wrapping hands (you wrap your hands with tape before you put on boxing gloves) and I heard a voice directly above me. “Let’s fight, three rounds.” I looked up, sure enough, there he was looking down. “Lets fight!” He repeated. He had a baritone voice, and I was a bit taken back that he really did sound like a movie bad guy without the foreign accent. “No thanks. I don’t spar.” Which was the truth. The only time I go into the ring was with a trainer who is there to teach me. “Come on, just for fun!” Wow-wee! Me getting punched in the face sounded like a great time!! “NO THANKS!” A few weeks later, I was hitting the heavy bag and ‘Baby Drago’ comes up to me again. “Come on, lets go one round!” I looked at him incredulously and then continued with my workout without saying anything. “p****.” He turned and walked away. One afternoon, I had just walked in the front entrance and sure enough, there was my new-found boxing friend using a jump rope. He saw me and quickly climbed into the ring. “Hey! Taroon!” I was a bit surprised that he even knew my name because I rarely talk to him. “Hey! Lets go!” Now he was dancing around the ring, bouncing off the ropes and had this big stupid smile on his face. At the time, I was at the gym with my friend Adam. I was in a really bad mood and was there because I really needed to hit something. “s**** this.” I said. “I don’t care what happens. “ It wasn’t till I got halfway to the ring that I realized that this was a big mistake. As playful as he looked, I knew that once I stepped inside he would try to knock me out. Normally you wear padded headgear, (which neither of us were wearing) so this was just a street fight with gloves in a boxing ring. I could hear my heart beat though my shirt. Everybody was watching so I couldn’t back out. Like a captured sailor walking the plank, I climbed the stairs to the ring and was about to face doomsday. “Hey!” I turned around and there was Jason, putting on his gloves. “I’ll go a few rounds! I need a workout!” I let out a sigh of relief and went back to the floor. Baby Drago’s eyes widened as Jason climbed through the ropes. I knew what he was thinking. Professional fighters are on another level. They work their entire lives to learn how to take a shot and most importantly, hit back. They fought. It lasted about 30 seconds. I could tell Jason wasn’t even trying and was holding his punches. Still, those Golden Glove hands moved lightning fast, throwing swift punch combinations. Baby Drago backed into the corner and waved off the onslaught. Jason climbed back outside and hit me in the shoulder. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Next time you can fight.” He smiled and resumed working the speed bag in the corner. “Yeah, next time.” I happily resumed my workout in peace. I learned an important lesson that day. It’s good to have friends, and even better if those friends can kick a**. Tarun

Interview with Mangalorean - May 3rd - 2007

Interview with Mangalorean.com

Thursday, 3rd May

I did an interview with Mangalorean.com. Check it out!  By: Team Mangalorean, USA Washington DC, March 26: Some people believe there are only two types of comediennes in this world. The one's who make you laugh by their actions and the one's who make you laugh by talking. So, which one are you? Are you the kind of person whose lips don't even twitch when you see two guys slamming pies in each others faces? Or are you the one who sits a wee bit forward in his seat and really listens when a witty person takes to the mike? If you are, well then, our own Mangalorean, Tarun Shetty is the man for you. Simply put, Tarun is a stand up comedienne who takes to his audience like a duck takes to water and what's more he doesn't just quack to make you laugh. Using wit and humor to entertain the world is Tarun's profession and he enjoys doing it too. Puts his heart and soul into it to be more precise. A product of NYU's School of Arts, Tarun has worked his way up the New York Comedy Club Circuit. He has worked for the Boston Comedy Club for two years and made his first television appearance on the Nickelodeon Show 'Laugh Out Loud' also in New York. In 2001, at the Harvard University Demon Comedy Fest, Tarun premiered a Short Film at the New York International Film Festival. In 2004, Tarun headed west and signed on as a correspondent for the Bollywood program, 'Showbiz India Extreme.' At present he is producer and host of the segment 'Generation Desi,' and travels across California in the course of his work. In addition, he continues to audition for film and television and tours the country to visit fans whenever he can. Tarun thinks it's no piece of cake to do stand up comedy. It's tough to make people laugh and those who think its easy need to try it out sometime. We think you just gotta have what it takes to be a stand up comedienne and Tarun certainly has it. Making people laugh is a talent. And in today's world it could even be a blessing. With Tarun however, laughter is simply the best medicine and he prescribes huge doses of it to his audiences. Tarun was born on 15th of August. Another Midnight's child? Must mean something surely. We asked Tarun and he had something profound to say about that. Tarun was also not averse to sharing some special thoughts with Team Mangalorean. When did the interest in Comedy start?  I fell down a flight of stairs when I was 8 and instead of helping, everybody laughed at me. I had a self-revelation, 'Next time this happens, I'm getting paid.' No, there wasn't an exact incident. I do remember being obsessed with American comedy stars in grade school. Then in study hall, instead of schoolwork, I'd be writing comedy sketches. I later sent all those ideas to real TV shows and wondered why nobody wanted to hire a 12 year old. Ever done a standup comedy act on Mangaloreans?  Not that I recall. The date of your birth coincides with Indian Independence Day. Being born and brought up in the US how 'Indian' are you? I was born and brought up in the United States but we made long three-month trips to India once every two years. I'm very Americanized, but my parents who are Mangaloreans, have exposed me to Indian culture here in America and did a good job instilling the proper values in me. If you had to choose between being a writer and a comedienne what would you choose?  I'd be a comic, but being a writer is essential to being a good comedian. If I wasn't able to write my own material for my stand-up, TV, movies, I would be useless to society. I never try to label myself anything specific. I'm a comic who also functions as an actor, producer, writer, stand-up. They all go together. At times, I have a very specific vision of what I want to make, and I need to do all these things to make it happen. If I can be truthful to myself, I'll be happy. Do you think there is a dearth of humor in this world?  There is plenty of humor in this world. Some people and places have more of it than others, you just have to be aware when it happens around you. What's your take on Bollywood? Any interest in joining the film industry sometime in the future?  I like Bollywood. I think it's great that Indians have a niche in the entertainment industry and I'm happy that it's starting to attract attention and interest from Hollywood. As for me joining Bollywood, probably not. I like to dance, and I think Govinda is a genius but my ultimate goal is to be successful in the United States. There have been a recent spate of stand up comedy shows and competitions on Indian Television. Is that a good thing? I'm not really for stand-up competitions, but I think it's very cool that Indians are taking a chance on stage and audiences are tuning in. I actually saw the stand-up show last time I was in Bangalore. Those judges look tough, but I'm all for creative expression. How often do you travel to India?  I went last summer. Not sure when I'll go again. What's the ONE big difference between being young in the USA and being young in India? Although I was young in India, I never grew up there in terms of going to school, having friends or facing problems and challenges that Indian kids have to deal with. As for being young in America, sure, there were moments, like on the basketball court, birthday parties, classroom, whatever. I'd remember that I was the only Indian kid and everybody else was white. But everybody where I lived was so friendly and accepting, I really forgot about it and had a pretty normal childhood. Tell us more about Showbiz India and your work with them.  'Showbiz India' is a South Asian show airing here in the United States. It focuses primarily on Indian entertainment which includes, events, music videos and Bollywood celebrities. I was hired by Showbiz India about two years ago to produce a segment called 'Generation Desi' for a new show called 'Showbiz India Extreme.' Essentially, the segment was just me, a host and the director, Atif Mirza, covering college Desi parties in California and interviewing very drunk Indians who probably shouldn't have been on camera. I'm not sure how it happened, but somebody got sick and I ended up hosting a lot of the segments. Somewhere along the way, I think both myself and the director, Atif Mirza, realized that we had no creative restrictions so we started shooting whatever we wanted. Around the same time, we started creating original content for the internet under our own banner, RaisingDesi Productions. We were getting lots of hits, and positive responses from around the world on my website tarunshetty.com and raisingdesi.com. All this pretty much led to where we are now, making our first movie. We still work on the television show. "Showbiz India Extreme' just got picked up by Zee TV in March so it will be broadcast pretty much everywhere. I'm scheduled for some correspondent work but I'm not sure how much I'll be on because I'm so wrapped up with other projects. 'Showbiz India' gave me the opportunity to meet a lot of great creative minds in Hollywood, develop my comedy and reach a lot of people who otherwise would have probably never heard of me. Team Mangalorean thanks Tarun for his time in answering our questions and wishes him the very best in his future endeavours!

Showbiz is for the Dogs - March 18th - 2007

Showbiz is for the Dogs

Sunday, 18th March

When I was trying to get into showbizness I was pretty much just a lowly college student. My family didn’t know anybody in the industry, and I wasn’t connected in any way. I was also debating whether I wanted to be a TV writer. You can imagine my excitement when I found out that I was selected to be the writers’ intern on the television sitcom ‘Spin City.’ At the time, Spin City was a hit television show on ABC and was, in fact, the only sitcom to tape in New York. I was very lucky. It starred Michael J. Fox, from one of my favorite movies “Back to The Future,” Heather Locklear and a bunch of other really funny actors. I had a few college internships so I knew what to expect. I did everything from grocery shopping for the writers, making copies of scripts and taking lunch orders. In return, the writers were super cool to me. They let me sit in on meetings and would include me in foosball games and whatever else was going on in the office. There was no way I was going to mess this up. That is until one day, I was on set and I met one of the actors, Richard Kind. He played the goofball guy on the show and didn’t seem a lot different in real life. He’s been in a bunch of stuff, and I guess you can Google him if need be. Anyway, I was on set one day and he had his dog with him -- Gratzi. It was a small dog, kind of like a terrier or something. I guess the dog was in-between the puppy and adult phase. Even though it was on a leash, it was pretty hyper and ran little circles around Richard. “Hey!” Richard called out to me. “You work with the writers right?” he asked. “Yes” “You like dogs?” In truth, I am very indifferent to dogs. I like smart dogs that are intelligent, but I can’t stand dogs that run around mindlessly. “Uh, sure.” “Here!” he put Gratzi’s leash into my hands. “How bout you take Gratzi out for a stroll.” “Ummmm.” I think Gratzi could feel the change of guard because as soon as the leash was in my hands, he took off with full force almost ripping my arm off. “Bye!” Richard waved. So off we went. Gratzi and I, by ourselves in New York. Now ‘Spin City’ taped in Chelsea Piers, which was an open area by the water. There were some docks so I thought that it would be a fine place to walk the dog. I started running up and down the pier with him. Richard also gave me a tennis ball. We had this game where I throw the ball, it would bounce off Gratzi’ head and then he would chase it down. Pretty stupid game if you ask me. After about a half hour of this, Gratzi laid down under a bench and closed his eyes. Finally! I looked at my hand which was now turning blue. I had wrapped the leash so tight that it was cutting off all blood circulation to my arm. I thought this was a good opportunity to untangle myself. I had just slipped the leash off my hand for a split second when Gratzi caught sight of another dog in the distance and took off. I could feel the leash escape from my hands and watched helplessly as Gratzi dragged it across the pavement. “Gratzi!” Gone. I spent the next hour walking up and down Chelsea Piers yelling out his name. “Gratzi! Gratzi! Gratzi!” Some Italian people by a bench looked at me awkwardly. ‘Gratzi’ means ‘thank-you’ in Italian. I guess I would find it strange if I saw a kid yelling to himself, “thank-you!” “thank-you!” “thank-you!” I did this for another hour. It was getting dark, and I had three missed calls on my cell phone from my supervisor who was probably wondering where the hell I was. I thought I was going to cry. Actually, I wasn’t but I was certainly trying. I took an acting class and thought if I could get myself to cry, then maybe Richard would feel bad and not strangle me. I headed back to Pier 12 building (it kind of resembled a large airport hangar) where ‘Spin City’ taped. As I walked to the set I could hear a faint bark from inside. I opened the door and there was Gratzi playing with one of the production assistants. I ran to them, waving my arms enthusiastically. “Where’d you find him?” “Outside. Hanging out. Are you supposed to be watching him?” Take note, there were 24 piers, which means 24 warehouses. For Gratzi to go back to the one where ‘Spin City’ taped was just incredible. I guess Gratzi wasn’t as dumb as he looked. She put the leash into my hand and I walked to Richard’s dressing room. He opened the door and gave Gratzi a big hug. “That was certainly a long walk!” “Wait don’t go anywhere. I want to give you something!” I thought he was going to give me 20 bucks for my troubles but instead he gave me a script to bring back upstairs to the writers. “Thanks.” That was the first of many memorable experiences at ‘Spin City.’ I would go on to walk Richard Kind’s dog a bunch of other times throughout the year. To be honest, I don’t think he even knew my name aside from ‘the kid that walks my dog’ but he always managed to find me and seemed somewhat grateful. One day soon, when I fulfill all my dreams, I’m going to hire Richard Kind. And you can certainly bet that he’ll be walking my dog. Woof-woof. ~tarun

6 Dollars - Feb 3rd - 2007

6 Dollars

Saturday, 3rd February

The road. It’s where comedians get good. I forget who, but some famous comic said there’s no way around it. Performing from club to club. Living out of a suitcase. Endless one night stands with the club waitress and drunk audience members. Then again, I don’t really know much about it. I’m just repeating what I heard from my friends. I’ve always wanted to be on TV which meant staying in town for auditions. I’ve done a lot of colleges and casinos here and there but I usually catch a flight home the next day. Except once… HAZY flashback sequence. It was around mid February. I was passing out flyers for stage time and freezing my a** off in NY. Three months earlier, I randomly submitted a tape to a booker and was getting the call now. “Hi, this is Jerry. We received your tape. Can you host at our Wisecrackers club this weekend in Scranton, Pennslyvania? ” Host? By now I had been doing comedy for about four years or something in New York. I had never heard of Scranton, Pennsylvania, plus I didn’t have a car. Of course, I just applied my non-sensical logic which has guided me through all important life decisions. “OK!” Three days later I was squeezed next to someone on a Greyhound bus to Scranton, Pennsylvania. It was about four hours away, and I was traveling with a busload of people. With each stop, the bus crowd slowly thinned out until I was sitting by myself. “Scranton, Pennsylvania.” the bus driver grumbled. I think he was annoyed that he had to drive all this way just for me. I took a cab to my motel, (I wasn’t old enough to rent a car, not that it mattered because I don’t think there was anything to rent.) “Are you lost?” The cab driver asked. “No, I’m a comic. I’m going to Wisecrackers comedy club!” I proudly stated. “That’s my favorite place!” “Obviously.” I thought. I had never been there but it was probably one of America’s top comedy clubs if they booked me, Tarun Shetty, 23 year old comedy sensation. We pulled into a motel with one car in the parking lot. I didn’t care. I was getting 75 big ones to do comedy. I marched into the lobby, with my chest out, head high, feeling great. “Who are you?” the desk clerk asked. “I’m Tarun Shetty – the comedian.” She looked at a list on the wall. “Oh, your room is right there.” She pointed to a door like five feet down the hall. “Can I get some room service?” I asked. “We don’t have a kitchen but we have a microwave and a vending machine.” She pointed to a big brown thing plugged into the wall. The on and off humming made it seem like it was dying a slow death in the corner. “How about the comedy club. Can I get a ride tonight?” She started laughing. “This is the comedy club!” She pointed to a set of double doors literally right next to my hotel door. Sure enough, inside was the motel showroom and I saw a xeroxed black and white picture of me hanging crooked on the wall. I went back to my room. There's a lot of things to do before showtime, especially in Scranton. Like sleep, write jokes, watch TV, sleep, read, call home, sleep, take a shower, more sleep. It seemed like I had just closed my eyes for the 15th time when I heard a loud knocking on my door. “10 minutes till showtime!” I threw on my crumpled ‘comedy shirt’ from my bag, stuffed some Skittles into my mouth and trudged five feet into the next room. There were about 30 people seated and two older men standing in near the bar. A lady approached me, waving her hands frantically. ‘Are you Tyroon? Ok, listen up. We have a packed show! (I guess 30 people was the whole town) I need you to do a tight 10 minutes up front and 4 and a half between each act. The red light is on the back wall. When you see it, wrap up, get off stage and don’t forget to mention the cheese stick specials.” I had no idea what she just said. “Sounds good!” I replied. I went to the bar, thinking shots of rum would clear my new headache. I ran into the other two comics trying to flirt with the bartender. One guy was really fat, the other had on all black and wore a black trenchcoat. I assumed his onstage comedy persona was some sort of serial killer or something. “Hey, guys. I’m the host. Can I get your credits?” They looked at me as if I embodied everything that was wrong with stand-up comedy. “Say whatever.” The fat man muttered and walked off. Trenchcoat guy starting listing off credits. “MTV, A&E, Conan O’Brien…” “You were on Conan O’Brien?” I interrupted. I was a big fan of the show. I even had an autographed Conan O’Brien picture hanging in my room in college. “Um, yeah.” he replied. “When?” “Er, last year.” “Who were the other guests?” It was an innocent question hoping he would later tell me all about it and bond an old veteran comic with an up and coming star. It never occurred to me that maybe he was LYING about his credits and I was pretty much calling him on it in front of a girl he was trying to nail. “Just say it, all right!” He slammed his drink down and stormed away. That night was an awkward night of comedy and probably shaped the next few years of my life. The audience was nice, but I don’t think they had ever seen a South Asian guy, especially one doing comedy. I remember opening up with, “Hey guys, I’m not a comic, I work at the gas station across the street and they asked me to do some time.” I heard a guy in the front row go, “I’ve never seen him at the gas station.” I was also reprimanded later for going over my time and threatened that I would never work the Wisecracker comedy circuit again. “Promise?” I asked. They ended up cancelling the second show because nobody showed up. When I finally got back to NY, after all expenses, I made six dollars! I was rich!!! I’m pretty sure comedy on the road is a lot more fun that this. In fact, I know it is. But I did have a revelation that night. If I was going to be funny for a career, I had to find a medium that reached as many people as possible, and not a microphone in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Even in NY. Had to get out of there, take my shot. Take risks, no regrets. 6 dollars is great, but it'll take at least 10 for me to sellout my dreams.

Country Music Television - Nov 28th - 2006

Country Music Television

Tuesday, 28th November

Every comic wants to be on television. Unlike regular day jobs, we don't have any job promotions or awards so sometimes people measure our self worth by how many television credits we have. Doing a set on the Tonight Show or Letterman is the ideal but most comics will pretty much do anything that comes his/her way. There is a perception that television makes you official. It's like being on television means you are finally accepted by the masses, but in reality, a television appearance comes down to a talent booker's opinion or simply who you know. Some of my early TV credits include bad children's programming. I was on a Nickelodeon pilot as well as a short-lived CBS show called "Wild Wild Web" – a program that blended teaching kids how to use computers with stand-up comedy. (I think the description says it all) When I was living in NY a new type of programming trend was just starting to take off – television commentary You know what I'm talking about. It's pretty much the only thing that plays on VH1 and the other B-cable channels nowadays. These shows basically play music videos or relive parts of the 80's while a bunch of no name comedians and actors make fun of whatever is on screen. I got to be one of those lucky comics, well sort of. It all started one day in New York. I got a call from a new manager I was working with in Los Angeles. "Tarun you're going to be on TV!" "Really? When? What channel?" I replied. "Country Music Television! You're going to commentate on the videos." Let me just emphasize that my manager was in Los Angeles and had never even seen me in person. Also, I didn't even have to audition for the show, which goes back to the old showbiz rule, half this business is not even based on talent or merit. "Great!" The problem was that I didn't know anything about country music. In fact, I didn't even know there was such a thing called a Country Music Television Channel. For those of you who are like the millions of other Americans who watch commentary shows, I'll give you the backstory of how these shows work. Usually a producer from the show will contact you a day or two before the taping and send you a bunch of topics and fun facts to write jokes for. In my case, the show was called "40 Greatest Done Me Wrong Songs" and they were counting down, you guessed it, country music songs! The segment producer called me up. "This is so and so. Do you like country music?" "No, not really." "Have you ever heard country music?" "I think so." "Perfect, I'll send you a DVD of some videos we'll be playing and some notes. Come up with some material, and be at the studio next Friday at 1pm." A few days later I received the music DVD along with a large packet of useless country music trivia. Every night I would go over the information and write down any funny thoughts that came to my head. The whole thing was retarded. I did some research on CMT and found out that the channel is pretty popular in the South. I wondered what people would think when they saw me, a 23 year old comedian nobody's ever heard of, thrashing their favorite country song. It was a tough job but somebody had to do it. Friday came, and I went to the studio at the Viacom building in Times Square. By "studio," it was basically just a small room with a camera set up against a blue screen. Some lady put makeup on my face while I placed a few notecards I made the night before on the floor next to me. The next 25 minutes went by pretty fast. Somebody off camera asked me questions, and I went rapid fire through my jokes. I can pretty much go on automatic when it comes to comedy. Boom-boom, camera man laughs, boom-boom-boom. Thank you very much you've been a great audience! I thanked everyone in the room and made a quick exit. A few weeks later, I tuned into the program with my family and we counted down the videos. It was my career defining moment. Out of about fifty jokes, I think I was used about three times, usually right after the comedian, Carrot Top. It was a brief appearance but that day, like my peers, I finally had a TV credit which meant nothing in the grand scheme of life. A credit that reaffirms my belief that stand-up comedy is to the entertainment industry as candlepin bowling is to professional sports. A credit that serves as a lesson for everyone reading this. If you work hard, believe in yourself, and catch a little bit of luck, just maybe... you too can be a country music telelvision star. --Tarun ps. I went home this Thanksgiving and was going through some old stuff. I found a clip from the actual show! It really is ridiculous. If you want to see it, just click on the following link. Ciao http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42HIlJgrtWI

Formal Apology - Oct 23rd - 2006

Formal Apology to YJP Convention

Monday, 23rd October

Dear YJP Convention, I’m taking this months journal entry to formally apologize for the Oct 14th performance at the Hyatt Regency. I know that I don’t have to apologize because I was in fact, extremely funny, but I also realize that about 48% of the audience wanted to kill me. I figure that I owe a couple apologies to a few people and would like to make amends. Apology #1 First I want to apologize to the person who booked me. I heard you may not have been happy with the performance. A friend who I brought to the show conveyed to me that you looked ‘distraught’ when I called this the ‘worst singles convention I have ever seen.’ Here’s an optimistic way of looking at this. Singles conventions are pretty bad with lots of hopeless people. However, everyone at WJP looked very attractive and full of life. So by me calling it ‘the worst singles convention’ I was actually saying how great everything is and was paying a complement to your gala! Pretty cool! You are welcome! :) Apology #2 Sorry to guy in the gray shirt sitting in the front row. I know I talked to you many times over the course of my show. Half way through my set I jumped off stage and ran around the room doing my act. I went to shake your hand, and instead of reciprocating you looked at me like you were going to stab me with your fork. Well, I want to let you know that you have won 1000 tickets to all my comedy shows. That’s right! You get to watch me 1000 more times! Congratulations! Apology #3 I would like to apologize for telling a bunch of ‘non-truths’ during the course of the night. First, I was not paid ‘6 million dollars’ as stated in my act. The correct figure is 3 million dollars, which I have donated to setting up college scholarships for Native Americans. Also, you were not the ‘greatest audience I had ever performed to.’ Although I did enjoy my time with you, collectively, as an audience, I would probably rate you #986 out of about 5000 shows, which is still pretty good. Anyways, I hope we settled our differences. I love Jain people and have the highest respect for your community. I look forward to performing at next years YJP Convention and hope to see you all there. Your friend, Tarun

Star Search - Sept 24th 2006

Star Search — This Show Sucks

Sunday, 24th September

We are still raising money for a movie. If you want to know more and would like to help. Please go to raisingdesi.com. Check out this month’s entry below…  I lay huddled against a brick building on 52nd street. It was November and it had to be at least 20 degrees. I was wearing every piece of clothing I could find. Layers of t-shirts, thermal underwear, hat, gloves. I don’t mind cold weather, but New York wind is unmerciful. It always finds you and slashes through everything you are wearing. I couldn’t feel my hands. Through gloved fingers I pressed play on my frozen CD player. I had Tom Petty’s ‘Running down a dream’ (my motivational CD) playing for about ten minutes before the batteries died. I looked at my watch, 3:30 am. It was going to be a long night. How did I end up here? Flashback – two weeks earlier. When you start out as a New York performer you’re going to do a lot of crazy stuff. There’s a disease in NY where people think you have to suffer for your art and it’s contagious. I remember I was just finishing up performing at some bad comedy room when a friend ran up to me. “Did you hear the good news?!” “What?” “They’re bringing back Star Search!” “You mean that horrible show from the 80’s?” “Yeah, with Arsenio Hall!” He was beaming . He looked at me like this was the greatest day of his life. “And?” He took out this crumpled e-mail from his back pocket. “See? ‘dancers, models, and COMEDIANS!’ They’re having an open call this Thursday. You’ve got to do it with me!” I rolled my eyes. I knew what ‘open call’ meant. Every jackass performer and his mom would be standing in line. I did a couple open calls starting out because I didn’t no any better, and it usually involved hours of waiting, and then doing 30 seconds of stand-up for a guy who had just heard about a thousand acts before you. Usually open calls are created to help publicize and hype whatever event it was. While in line, there is always a guy with a camera who walks around recording footage they can use for their upcoming TV promo. I put my foot down. “No way. I hate open calls and I hated the original Star Search. This show is going to tank.” “PULEEEESE! It’ll be fun! We’ll do it together!” I felt bad for my friend. He was pretty much a loser and quite frankly his comedy sucks. But I did like him as a friend, and I always look out for my friends. Always. “Give me the details.” The game plan was this. The building was at 52nd and 8th. Doors open at 9am. I figured, if we show up at 12 am the night before we have a shot at getting seen at a legitimate time. I put on every piece of warm clothing I could find. I also tucked away a folded collared shirt and pants into my bag. Something I could change into before performing. If I prepare mentally, I can take a lot of punishment. I was ready. I showed up at the location that my friend and I agreed on. It was a lot colder than normal. Like any November night, it was dreary and dark, and there were a bunch of homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were not homeless but actually a New Jersey boy band who actually brought sleeping bags and were asleep in line! I was 16th. Not great considering how early this was, but not bad either. My friend was nowhere to be seen. Awesome… I spent the next 9 hours bonding with the “Jersey Town Boyz” and a middle aged Chinese lady who played the xylophone. The Chinese lady spoke horrible English, and I wondered if she made it on, would the show put subtitles when she talked to Aresenio Hall? “WHAT YOU DO?! WHAT YOU DO?!” she screamed. Well since she asked so politely… “I’m a magician. A combination of optical illusions and laser lightshows.” She turned her back, unimpressed. I was on the ground, against the wall with my hat over my eyes. A part of me wanted to fall asleep, but I saw a movie somewhere that hypothermia makes you fall asleep and then kills you. I think it's every artist’s worst nightmare to have a tombstone reading “Here lies Tarun, died while auditioning for the new Star Search.” I tried to stay as alert as possible. Looking back, I think it's many scenarios like these that make performers who they are, for better or worse. Having started out somewhat young, I realize that this business makes you go through a lot of stuff. It took me a long time to really understand. Most artists (I used to be one of them) have nothing else, aside from a crappy Starbucks job and their miserable studio in Brooklyn, 2 hours from the city. If their career sucks, then their self-worth is reduced to nothingness. Sometimes I still see it. Though LA people are a lot better at hiding pain, it's common in NY. Miserable comics walking around comedy clubs like zombies. It’s so ironic that their job is to make others laugh yet they are unsatisfied with life. Then I see others. Comics that are genuinely smiling, just happy to be doing what they’re doing. What is it that makes some go down that dark path while others have such a great attitude? Truthfully, I have no idea. This has nothing to do with a spiritual awakening or any of that nonsense. I just know that if I’m going to be NORMAL and not go completely insane in this career path, I’ve got to set my own gauge for happiness. I checked my watch. 9:01 am. The doors were open and they were starting to take people. It was a brutal night and seeing the sunlight brought hope that in a few hours I’d soon be back home asleep in my own bed. I looked behind me. The line now stretched down the street and around the block. Also walking towards me was my ‘friend,’ embracing a Starbucks coffee. “Sorry, man. Fell asleep. Can I get cuts?” About ten people around me shot him piercing glares. If he had taken a step into that line, I’m sure the Chinese lady behind me would have beat him unconscious with her xylophone. And to be honest, if that happened, I probably wouldn’t have done anything. “Maybe it’s best I go to the back of the line.” “Probably” I replied. I did get a callback that day, but I never made it onto Star Search. It’s ok. At the end of the day, I gave it my best, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Raising Desi - The Movie Aug 13th

Raising Desi - The Movie

Sunday, 13th August

August entry! Thanks for coming back. So much has happened the past few months, and I appreciate that you are on this webpage even if you are mistaking me for Bollywood star, Sunil Shetty. A lot of people e-mail, asking for more videos. Well, the reason it's been so long was because we wrote a movie. Yep, get ready. It’s going to be good. (For brand new videos and movie information: please check outRaisingDesi.com) The movie is entitled ‘Raising Desi.’ It’s a comedy South Asian American film, starring myself and soon to be casted actors. It took a lot of effort to write but I'm 100% confident that this is the best thing we've ever written. So good that after today, I hereby have changed my name to M Night Shetty just to confuse the Hollywood community. Most importantly, we want to make this movie right, on our own terms. I mention this because we started to raise money, and I need your help. If you, or for that matter, know anyone who may be interested in film financing: your brother, son-in law, mailman, ex-lover, please have them contact me directly: raisingdesi@gmail.com Film production is expensive (*movie fact: the kid in the Harry Potter movies is an animatronics robot and cost 47 billion dollars to build) Plus, we plan on paying everyone back before we take any profit. This movie is dedicated to all the people across the country that have supported my career as well as everyone who hates my guts. best, Tarun

Real Journal Entries From Hell May 27th 2006

Real Journal Entries From Hell

Saturday, 27th May

This month's journal entry is dedicated to Shawn Shetty. Get well soon :) --Tarun  So I have been performing almost 9 years this June! Thank-you very much. As some of you may or may not know, I am a writer at heart. I love to write and it’s probably the one thing I can do somewhat ok. Also, I have a kept an online journal over the past 9 years and have documented about 85% of the shows. Surprise! I’m insane! That’s a lot of writing! I thought maybe one day I would randomly print out pages and send them to the NY Times like some kind of crazy manifesto. Seriously, I don’t know why I started keeping tabs. It just happened, and I never stopped. It’s interesting to see how much I’ve changed as a person. For example, on May 12, 98’ I started an entry with “I hate showbiz” while just last month on April 23, 06 I started with “ I loatheshowbiz…” I’m like a totally different person. I’ve posted some entries from interesting times in my life. See you next month. June 23, 97 - Boston, MA “…so the host finally brings me up with this lame intro “have you guys seen Letterman, well he watches it too!” He did the same thing last week. What a hack. If everybody is this unfunny than I should be on television by Tuesday. I did 3 minutes. My friends said I was hilarious but a lady in the front row stood up and said “NEXT!” so I am pretty sure they are lying to me. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life…” June 30th, 00' - New York, NY ... I saw Dave Chappelle again tonight. He remembered that I opened for him back in Boston. He is a really nice guy! I've never seen anyone so natural on stage. I think he’s going to be super famous one day. He told me that his writing partner Neal Brennan also used to work the door so maybe there’s hope for me. He told me ‘just don’t care and things start to happen.’ Well, starting today, I don’t care. September 14, 01 – New York, NY Just got escorted out of Uptown Comedy Club. It’s an urban club in Queens, which means pretty much all black people. I don’t know why I agreed to this. I get up and everybody starts chanting. “Go home Osama” and “You Suck.” They wouldn’t even give me a chance. I was so angry. So I just said the first thing off the top of my head “You don’t think I was affected by this. On Sept 11th, I woke up late for work. I put on the TV and saw the plane go into the building. I was like “Man, they did it without me! What am I supposed to do with all these boxcutters?” This guy threw a glass full of ice and hit me from the back of the room. Another lady nailed me with an ashtray. Not only did I incite a riot but also I had to leave through the back door. The host also told me I should ‘come back next week.’ Great. August 11th 05 - Hollywood, CA Saturday night. Woo-hoo! Just performed at an Indian engagement party at the Makala Indian Restaurant. This is what my career has come to, whoring myself out to my ethnic class. I had to have at least done 45 minutes. It was a lot of fun. I built my act in New York in front of American tourists so I had a bit of trouble at times. I don’t even care! I don’t think half the audience has even seen a comedy show before so I could have gone on stage with sock puppets and said it was stand-up comedy…And I still got paid! HAHAHAHAHA! May 23, 06 Hollywood CA Weds again. Did stand-up comedy twice this week. Haven’t been motivated to write but I took time off cause I was prepping all week for an audition to play a gay terrorist on Showtime. Hmmm, that definitely does not read well… I question, is this is life? Why am I always chasing something? High school, college, present. I did, however, feel really proud of myself after I left the casting office. That’s never happened. I am the worst auditioner and usually want to jump out a window. I think maybe that’s the key to happiness. To have objectives rather than specific goals. To be a role model, to break down stereotypes and barriers for other South Asians. Or maybe just have really, really low expectations. Either way, I can't miss.

Tarun Shetty - The Dark Side - April 28th

Tarun Shetty - The Dark Side

Friday, 28th April

Ok, before you read any further I want to say, I don’t have an alcohol problem. I never have, never will. It’s a rare sight to see me wasted and the following took place over a span of like three months. I do, however, admit that at one point in my career I used alcohol as a crutch on stage. It all began a long time ago in a galaxy far far away… FADE IN: When I was in New York, I used to play a club in Times Square. We’d have these huge tourist crowds in the summer time. They were by far the best audiences because they were from all over the country and were always ready to have a great time. Those shows were moments where I really enjoyed comedy cause there was no outside pressure of showbiz whatsoever. One Saturday night in particular, the room was especially packed and somebody bought me a shot and a jack and coke before I performed. I never drank in college so I was buzzed pretty quick and went on to have the set of my life. The next few weeks, I always had a few drinks before performing and always a drink in hand on stage. All the years learning about timing and concentration went out the window. Even when I made a mistake or stumbled over a word, I didn’t even care, and audiences loved it! I was finally the cool guy on stage, and I found a magical shortcut to being funny. WARNING #1 A couple weeks later I was auditioning for the owner of the Comic Strip, Three minutes till showtime, and I’m at the bar rifling through my wallet for spare dollars. “Where’s the bartender! Can I get a drink?” I needed it right then and there. Worst of all, I requested a Baileys which is like the girliest drink you can get. It was pathetic. A month later, I was on a plane to LA. I had just signed with a new manager. My dream was coming to life. The company had never seen me live, they signed me off a tape, which is pretty rare in Hollywood, and I was booked to do the biggest show of my life. It was a showcase for every industry types in Hollywood at the Laugh Factory on Sunset Boulevard. The Tonight Show people were there, Fox, whatever… it was an impressive list and the club was totally sold out. I also had just spent the last 7 or so years doing stuff like working the door at a comedy club and passing out flyers on street corners for stage time. I’ve never been to jail but it was like being up for parole and starting a new life. I never came close to having any opportunity to showcase myself so this was a big deal for me. Anthony Clark, the star of a CBS sitcom was on right before me. He was doing well, with like no effort. I sat unimpressed from the balcony, watching below, drinking my jack and coke. I’m not sure how many I had but it was a few. I was so out of it, I remember telling a complete stranger next to me ‘They’re just laughing because he’s famous.” She looked back like I was nuts. I didn’t care. I was bursting with confidence and everyone was about to witness the great comedy stylings of Tarun Shetty I’ll try to recall this as best I can, though it's hard to remember. The host introduced me and I sauntered to the stage. My head was so big, if I smoked I probably would have taken a cigarette out and lit it. I took the mike out of the stand and almost hit myself in the head. Great, 30 seconds in and I'm re-creating some sort of slapstick Charlie Chaplin routine. My first joke completely missed. Second one, miss. I wasn't even saying the jokes right. I’m usually pretty alert on stage, and am good at getting myself out of jams. But tonight I couldn't focus and had no chance at getting this crowd going. I plowed through. Not a complete disaster, but it was far from the 6 minutes I envisioned. I didn’t even stay for the rest of the show. I was so embarrassed I went back to my friend’s place and caught a flight the next day back to NY. (I came back though!) I realized a lot of things that night. One, I am a total lightweight and have the alcohol tolerance of a 90lb girl. Second, when people come to see me, I want them to see me in the purest form, where I am alcohol free and on my A-game. No specific experience will ever determine the rest of my life. I’ve had many more opportunities and will have more to come to prove myself. I’m still the cool guy on stage. Only now when I wake up the next morning I don’t have a headache and can remember everything from the night before. That’s gotta be worth something. I'll raise my glass to that. tarun

Fan/Hatemail... Mostly Hate - March 29th - 2006

FAN/HATEMAIL.... MOSTLY HATE

Wednesday, 29th March

Here's a bunch of e-mails people have written to me over the past three months. If you want to see your letter on my webpage with a reply from yours truly, please send all mail to tarun@blackcircle.net Dear Tarun, Saw you at Brewco tonight. Thanks for the laughs. Mike Dear Mike, Thanks for the totally banal and unoriginal fan mail. --El Shetty  Dear Tarun, I saw you perform at the midnight show at the Comedy District last Friday night. I was a big fan of your show on Showbiz India extreme and for all the hype I heard about your stand-up. I was not impressed. You did not try, your hair was a mess, you slurred your words and seemed like you were drunk. As one of the few South Asians comedians, I think you represent us in the entertainment community, and it is a shame that a fine talent such as yourself gave the audience such a subpar performance. I hope you realize that I am a comedy fan in general and think you have lots of potential to be great. Plan on seeing you at the Improv on the 13th. Take care, Ajay Dear Ajay, You’re right, you’re right, you’re right. My hair ‘was a mess’ on Friday. Let me explain. I got like 6 hours of sleep the night before, I looked in the mirror in the morning and was completely shocked when I saw my hair. (I’ve been trying to grow it out for the past year, and it’s been hard to manage) Immediately, I tried to comb it down, but it wouldn’t stay. I don’t know why. Maybe I slept on it wrong. Anyway, I have this baseball cap. It’s like camouflage, and I wear it sometimes because it makes me feel cool. I wore it for most of the day and it did a good job hiding my hair. But then at the end of the day when I took off my cap, my hair was even more messy! You can imagine the sense of panic and fear I experienced. I had a show in twenty minutes, and hate wearing baseball caps on stage because I’m always fidgeting with it. So, as you saw on Friday, I went up with messy hair. It was a decision I’ll probably regret for the rest of my life. I sincerely apologize to you and your family. T Rock  Tarun, You are sooo funny! Are you single? Check out my myspace profile at xxxxxxxxxxxx. Don’t worry, I am not a stalker. --Sameera Sameera, I am single!!! And we’re both on myspace! I guess this is destiny!!! Tarun aka Future Lover  Dear Tarun, We tried to get you here at the University of Utah, but your booking manager, Peter, is a complete p**** and made the event completely unaffordable. We are an ISA (Indian Student Association) and don’t have any money in our budget. We’d love to get you down here. Can you cut us a deal? --Ekta Ekta, This is a general response to all college kids. If I had a billion dollars I would tour the country and perform for free. There’s nothing more important to me than promoting the arts at ISA’s and encouraging young people to follow their dreams. Peter told me about your situation, and I decided that after travel fees, hotel, management fees, I simply couldn’t afford to do this show. Nothing personal. I love you. T$  Dear Tarun Shetty, YOUSUCKYOUSUCKYOUSUCKYOUSUCK Anonymous Dear Anonymous, GREATTHANKSFORSHARING.PLEASEUSETHESPACEBARKEYFORFUTUREE-MAILSALSO I THINKYOURCAPSLOCKBUTTONISONTARUNSHETTY Dear Tarun, Hey man, we loved your show yesterday (Riverside). Is all that stuff true? How do I get into stand-up? Is it ok to use other people’s jokes? Please keep me updated when your CD comes out and add me to your mailing list. See you, Alex. Alex, Thank-you very much. Um, I’m not planning to record a CD anytime soon, but now that you mentioned it, maybe I will. You are officially added to my mailing list. 78% of my material is true. If you want to do stand-up, you should probably see a therapist and get your head examined. After that, if you still want to do stand-up, I suggest writing material, going to an open mike, signing up and performing. And yes, you should steal as many jokes as possible and pretend like it’s yours. Other comics will probably get mad and physically hurt you, but you should always strive to be totally unoriginal. This will keep you off lame TV shows and keep away annoying opportunities that will make you a real comic. Thank you very much for your support. T-dog

Asthma Attack - Feb 27th - 2006

Asthma Attack!

Monday, 27th February

It wasn’t a good month. I was getting over a relationship, I was frustrated with Hollywood, and I wasn’t eating. When I get stressed, I work out -- hard. I began running more, boxing classes, lifting weights. Anything I could do to keep my mind occupied. Everything seemed normal until I started getting these dizzy spells and felt a bit winded. No problem. I’m an asthmatic. These things happen. I’ll just relax a bit, and it’ll go away. After all, I am a self-operating machine. Nothing can hurt me. Around 2:00 am on a Thursday, something was wrong. I was dizzy. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like my chest was being crushed by a grand piano. However, me going through one of my many mood swings, I thought ‘I’m just going to close my eyes and die in my sleep. Finally.’ The thing that sucks about asthma is that it messes up your breathing so much that you can’t even take in enough oxygen so you can die normally. 15 minutes later, I’m on my bedroom floor trying to pull myself up. ‘I’m not gonna go out like this.' The UCLA hospital is great. I have only been in a hospital twice. Once when I had an operation and was too drugged up to remember. The second time I was in high school when my dad tried to convince me to go into medicine. I watched him perform a cataract operation. I felt awkward being there, standing beside him. “Can you see what I’m doing?” he asked. “Yeah, dad. Neat.” In actuality, it was boring, but I got to keep a cool surgical mask, which I wore on Halloween. The ER was a lot different than the TV show ER. For starters, nobody was there. No homeless people, nobody bleeding. Maybe this was an off night. I pretty much walked right in and the nurse looked almost happy to take my blood pressure and finally do something. “Problem?” “Can’t breathe” I squeaked. Her eyes lit up. “Let’s get to work!” After my pre-examination, I sat in a tiny, barren room waiting for my doctor. The dizziness was gone but my breathing echoed across the hall. I figure having asthma is what fish feel like when they’re taken out of water. They don’t die instantaneously but just suffocate to death. I felt bad. I remember how many times I went trout fishing with my brothers, pulling them out and watching them die. I imagine I am like Hitler to fish. Snap back into reality. The doctor stuffed a nebulizer into my mouth, forcing oxygen into my body. I could feel it working, the air passages in my lungs opening up. The simple act of breathing is a wonderful. I hope all of you non-asthmatic readers realize that you are God's chosen children. “All set,” the doctor said. I popped off the examination table and filled out some paperwork. “You’re Tarun, I saw you at a comedy show. Are you performing anytime soon?” I gave him my card. It’s a new card with my photo on it. I don’t know why, but I’m still embarrassed when I give it out. Hey, look at me! I’d almost rather give a card with somebody else’s photo on it. There’s a cute girl in my building who lives across the hall. That would be a great business card. “Nice card.” “Um, thanks.“ The next day I sat at Starbucks sipping coffee. I was exhausted from being up the night before, but pretty much forgot about everything that was bugging me. Life is short. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. Of course, having asthma isn’t one of them, but everything else is pretty good. A girl jogging on the street entered. She took out a tiny blue inhaler and shot a spurt of Ventolin into her mouth. A lot of people wish they didn’t have asthma, but in some weird way, it’s who we are. We can do everything just as well as you can - just not breathe very well, and long distance running, and rock climbing, and fencing and martial arts and speed skating and swimming fast… well maybe not everything. I sat back in my chair and finished my coffee. It’s great to be alive. --tarun

A New Beginning - Jan 3rd - 2006

A New Beginning

Tuesday, 3rd January

Welcome 2006! I hope everyone has made a New Years resolution and will go on to have a great upcoming year. The big change is that the show I've spent the last year on has come to an end. There are rumors that we might go to another network, but until that happens I want to thank all the viewers who watched Showbiz India Extreme on AZN. It's been amazing to have random people approach me and get e-mails from girls who want to marry me. To create and be on a national TV segment has been one of the high points of my career and the experience has been awesome. With that said... this past week I was contacted to perform at a New Years Eve party. For most people, New Years means a time to get together with family and friends, for comics it means selling your soul and making $$$$. Every season I'll get random offers to perform at company christmas/new year parties. I've done a lot of weird gigs in the past. I remember one time an indian family hired me to perform in their basement somewhere in New Jersey. It was one of those desi parties where everyone was over 40, and I had to perform using a karaoke machine. Another time I performed on a cruise ship for a high school prom at 4:00 in the morning. Nobody even knew I was doing stand-up until I was about 15 minutes into my set. A few years ago, I said enough is enough. I refuse to have any involvement in lame comedy shows. So this this past week, I was invited to perform at a New Years party. I ask, what type of crowd? He says, 300 mexicans. Not my ideal audience. Where? In the basement of a restaurant in Los Feliz. Not ideal working conditions. How much money? He gives me a figure that's like a week's salary at the television show I used to work at. SIGN ME UP! Cut to: I'm at a bar at 8:20 doing shots with the bartender sizing up the room. Like forty tables in a highly done up basement. Along the walls are half-lit x-mas lights from the week before. In the middle of the room is a dance floor with two amps. Everyone is mexican except for one table that has an older group consisiting entirely of Indians. (aka the owners of the company) I'm having an existential moment. I'm supposed to make a group of strangers, most of which having nothing in common with me, laugh for 40 minutes. Why did I agree to this? The bouncer comes up to me. "Are you ready?" "Let's rock" The dj stops the music and pulls out a wireless microphone. 'Ok, I hope everyone is having a great time, and we a special guest! (Who can it be... George Lopez?) "TYROON SMETTY!" Techno music plays, I walk out. The crowd is definitely confused. A man yells out. Who are you!? I'm Tyroon Smetty! Don't you recognize me!? Your boss hired me to perform while you get smashed off free liquor. I start banging out the act I've been working on this past year. Some sets are easy, the audience is with you. This one is tough. They all having amazingly low attention spans. If I lose them for 5 seconds then I lose them for the rest of the night. I don't give up. Never. Just keep hammering them with jokes. If I go down, fine, but I go down swinging. People are shouting stuff out during my premises "I used to live in NY..." "Go Jets!" "Great. Thank-you so much for thoughtful insight." 46 minutes later, I slip off stage to a half applause. Thank-God this is over. The bartender passes me a drink. "I bet you weren't expecting this!" Indeed I was. After all I am a comic. This is what I do and I've had this same show like 100 x's before. Still, there's a part of me that had fun. The rush I have right before I perform is still there. If it's not there, I should quit and find another career. I sip my rum and coke and relax in the corner where nobody can see me. Happy New Years.

Gobble, gobble, gobble. - Nov 26th - 2005

Gobble, gobble, gobble

Saturday, 26th November

Happy Thanksgiving! Right now, it's 10 o'clock in the morning here in Hollywood. I am in my boxers and sweatshirt. I just ate a bowl of Kix and a slice of cheddar cheese. I rented the movie 'Stripes,' and I'm going to eat chinese food with some friends tonight. I am a very, very lucky person. This month I want to give thanks to all the great things in my life. 1. Everyone on my mailing list - Thanks to my fan base who has given me a career. Even though I still get mail from people who think I'm directly related to Indian movie star, Sunil Shetty. (not true!) I'll take anything I can get. 2. New York - Thank-you for completely breaking me as a human being. Without NY, I would have never come to Los Angeles, become more bitter and self-loathing and then finally experience some success. 3. Peanut Butter Sandwiches - Thank-you for helping me survive, 2001-2003. Also, Tarun Shetty fact #456. Tarun's first post-college job was making peanut butter sandwiches in Greenwich Village for $7.00 an hour. So without peanut butter I would have never bought my first Ferrari. 4. A&E Television - Thank-you for giving me time to plan. My first job in corporate television. I would get all my work done by 11 am and then plan my life the rest of the day. To this day, I still never really understood what I was supposed to do. 5. Stand-up Comedy- I hate stand-up comedy 64% of the time but love it 37% of the time. Thank-you for the opportunity to overcharge colleges and date girls that would normally never talk to me. 6. New Hampshire - the best place on earth. If you think I'm saying that cause I'm from here... well, you're right. 7. LA Girls - I've been asked so many x's 'what kind of car do you drive?' Thank-you LA girl for making me appreciate the private education and upbringing God has blessed me with. 8. Bollywood Television - Thank-you for giving me an outlet. Although I didn't know who Shahrukh Khan was (Indian movie star) til about 6 months ago, and I can't sit through a Hindi dance number without wanting to jump out a window, I'm glad such a thing exists. 9. Bruce Lee - Have you seen Fists of Fury? The man is a phenom and his ability to kick a** reminds me of myself. 10. Internet - Before the internet, everytime I'd send out a newsletter I'd have to get all your mailing addresses and write out individual letters. This thing has saved me soooo much time. Oh yeah, other things I want to thank: family, friends and peace on earth. see you next month! --tarun

Daily Thoughts - Oct 31st - 2005

Daily Thoughts

Monday, 31st October

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Ok. First off. I almost titled this month's piece 'LAME JOURNAL ENTRY' because I'm writing this under the gun and am due at a comedy club in 34 minutes. My 'thoughts' (which is code for poor grammar and no substance) will have to do. Ready... set... read! TARUN'S FREE ASSOCIATION I remember when I used to write online once every two weeks. It seemed like I had nothing better to do. Now, every thought is directed toward some weekly deadline. That's what Hollywood does to you. I am producing and hosting a show 6 days a week, performing stand-up 4 nights a week. Traveling free weekends across the country to perform at colleges. I’m very tired. But what is life if you go through it and not give it your best shot? I don’t know why people have the need to mention Russell Peters to me. "Do you know Russell Peters?" I get asked this question like 5X a week. He's a great comic but you should probably contact him directly if you want to get in touch with him. Yesterday someone asked me if I know Russell Peters and I told him he was my father. I literally broke up with my girlfriend yesterday. And really, I don’t even know why. I could be the most self-destructive person on earth and I feel bad for any girl who starts a relationship with me. So ladies, if you’re out there my cell phone is 917-345-2434. I was watching a desi comedy show, and I wonder why do desi comics rely on Indian accents so much in their acts? I now do an impression of my dad with a German accent, just to separate me from the pack. I have a 3X5 picture of Charlie Chaplin hanging on my mirror. I've finally accepted that I'm no Chaplin. Not even close. However, I am Tarun Shetty, which I hope is worth something. I casted a kid in one of my videos a few months ago. I met his roommate. I sat down, gave him advice on stand-up comedy and television. Next thing I know, my executive producer calls me into her office and gives me an e-mail. The kid actually wrote her a letter saying he could do better at my job and they should fire me! I almost had our receptionist call him for an interview. “Thanks for coming in. So how did you hear about us?” 11:13. I am going to be late for my spot. I'm not getting paid tonight so does this mean I owe them money? It still feels good to vent even if you don't know me… I'm still here.

Dream Girl - July 26th - 2005

Dream Girl

Tuesday, 26th July

Hey Tarun here. So it’s been a while since the last entry. Apologies. It’s been a hectic two months. Been performing like crazy. Have been offered so much work, and I apologize to everyone who I’ve turned down. It’s hard for me to leave the city sometimes. I see all these summer hookups going on, and I guess it’s appropriate to tell the first time I ever asked out a girl. I know to some people this is trivial, but it’s my journal and if you don’t like it then please go to cnn.com and read about current events. So anyways, the first time I asked out a girl. Which is about four years prior to the actual experience. I was taking a summer course at Boston University. I was on some sort of kick that I’d read a newspaper everyday and head to the main periodical section of the library. There was an Indian girl working behind the counter. You had to give her your id if you wanted to scan out books. Take note, aside from family, I had never really been exposed to other South Asians. I was raised in NH and there really wasn’t anyone else. So maybe it’s like when you put a tiger raised by lions and then you put him with another tiger. His first instinct is that he wants to jump the other tiger after years of sexual repression. Ok. Let’s continue. The point is, from that day on, I read the Boston Globe... a lot. Everyday I would sit there, level B2, read the first two pages and think ‘ok. Go introduce yourself and ask her out.’ When you have no experience you really have no foundation so it’s all a matter of learning hands on. About two weeks into it I finally had the courage to approach her. “Hi, what’s your name?” ‘Jasmine.’ ‘That’s a nice name, like Aladdin?’ She rolled her eyes. Back to the newspaper. I couldn’t believe how I already screwed that up. I called my older brother. “What do girls like?” “Confidence. You got to have confidence.” Right! That’s it! Confidence! I showed up everyday for the next two weeks. Most of the time I just analyzed my own body language trying to figure out how to look sexy while reading a newspaper. (t-shirt + glasses = sexy) I read each article, CONFIDENTLY. Three weeks later I made another approach. “Hi! Do you like food?” I meant to ask her if she wanted to go to dinner and instead I asked her if she liked food. I couldn’t backtrack. Women like confidence. Yeah, I asked you if you like food. That’s the way I roll. “ I guess so.” “What kind of food do you like?” “Um, Taco Bell.” “Me too.” By now, she thought I was completely insane. I talked to her two times and both times I didn’t even ask her out but instead made fun of her name and talked about Taco Bell. This time when I went back to my newspaper there was a random guy sitting there who had just watched the entire incident. “You should have just asked her out for coffee.” Whatever. I am a super cool dude and you are a 37-year old librarian. I went home that night with something to think about. “Coffee.” Isn’t that a bit cliché? Three days later I walked into the library on a mission. Coffee or bust. I made my approach. “Hi, my name is Tarun.” “Yes, I remember.” “Would you like to get coffee?” “Um, ok.’ “Let me get your number.” “No, let me get YOUR number!” Success! I did it. That single incident made it the greatest day of my life. Of course, I was also introduced to a successful girl trick. Writing down the guys number and never calling. Regardless, my life is rejection. Showbiz, performing live, girls, and everything else. It’s only made me stronger. And if your name is Jasmine and you worked in the periodical section at Boston University like 7 years ago. Get over me. It’s time.