Thanks to Mark Ruppert, it’s much easier to live our deserved Warholian lifestyle. That is, up until now, the predicted 15 minutes of fame due each citizen was in large part dependent upon the conspiracy of a limited number of media outlets to stoke the star-making machinery. The gold standard of fame is measured in couch time on Jay’s and Dave’s shows—which means that a couple of gatekeepers in New York and Los Angeles call the shots. And they don’t book me.
So Ruppert took matters into his own hands and created The Eleven O’Clock Show, a television talk show that isn’t on television. Instead, the “program” “airs” at 11 p.m. Saturdays at the Warehouse Theater on 7th Street, across from the convention center ditch.
The format is so ingrained in the public’s psyche that the audience easily slips into its role—applauding at the mention of any city. And host Ruppert plays it straight, putting on a sharp suit, gamely opening with a comedy monologue, and amiably bantering with bandleader—and entire band—Charlie Barnett, of Chaise Lounge.
For reasons still unclear, I was booked to appear on the season finale (Ruppert says the show will resume in September), filling the traditional “author” slot, last. The other guests sharing the couch were Cherry Red Productions’s Ian Allen and Rick Fiori, discussing their current show, Zombie Attack! Musical act Martini Red played two sets of charmingly mellow standards on mandolin, upright bass, and suitcase. WIT, the Washington Improv Theater, improv-ed some Broadway burlesques, and the 11 O’Clock Show Players performed a political comedy sketch.
All in all, a very full show, well-produced. And I was brilliant. But I’ve been practicing. Every day of my life. In my mind.
Now I’ve got a local fix. —Dave Nuttycombe
Information on upcoming shows may be found at http://www.elevenoclockshow.com/.