The winner is in the middle. It’s Ryan Dalton standing behind the “won’t fit in the overhead compartment”-sized trophy. On his right (our left) is Landry, who came in second in the balloting. On his left (our right) is Dave Williamson, who came in third. And that is, quite possibly, the worst picture ever taken of Williamson. (We know it’s not our Fuji FinePix S2950, because other pics, taken over our shoulder with other cameras produced the same result. Ambient lighting? Temporary demonic possession?)

Hey! Look who stopped by! It’s Shang! (Didn’t he usta be Shang Forbes? He dropped the surname when it was no longer useful.) From left to right: Landry, Shang, Corey Manning. Two one-named comics with one two-named comic! What IS Landry doing? (Looks to us like he’s trying to scissor off Shang’s nipple… or taser it. “Don’t taser my boob, bro!”)

All right, then. In the previous post, we alluded to the three-day gap in our WSOC coverage and we promised an explanation. On Monday night, after the dust from the Wildcard shows had settled, The Halves of the Staff dined on steak & eggs over at Mr. Lucky’s in the Hard Rock Hotel. Midway through the meal, The Male Half complained of a headache. We thought nothing of this, as we were dining with Brad Reeder, and, great God almighty, if Brad Reeder doesn’t give one a headache, then who does? (Note to Brad: Let’s put that 2012 date in INK, shall we?) Anyway, about three hours later, The Male Half awoke, sweating, moaning, teeth chattering and complaining about the cold. (It’s in Vegas… the temp is maybe as low as 79 degrees… not a good sign.)

Fast forward a few more hours and TMHOTS is DOWN. A nasty head cold or a “bug” or call it what you like. Dreams of participating in the WSOC golf outing and poker tournament are instantly shattered. Both Halves immediately fret that participation in the WSOC Midnight Bowling outing is out of the question as well. And the seminar that they were scheduled to conduct on Friday at 11 AM is in jeopardy.

TFMHOTS was booked all week at Brad Garrett’s Comedy Club making it devilishly difficult for her to be over at the Alexis Park for much of the week’s festivities. And on Tuesday, she was dealt a temporary career blow that dampened her spirits and made it near impossible for her to hang out with a bunch of comedians who had something resembling hope. Which is why the beginning of their seminar (which they eventually conducted when The Male Half rallied) kicked off with The Female Half saying, “This week, I hate comedy…”

But this isn’t about us. Correction: this isn’t all about us.

It’s about the 101 comics (and a couple dozen more) who traveled to the desert to participate in the second annual World Series of Comedy– those aforementioned folks in the paragraph above… the ones with all that… hope. Hold on… we have a list around here somewhere… Ah… here it is (Scroll past it for the rest of this posting):

Erik Monical
Shadowheart
TEKG
Micah Bleich
Chris Holmberg
Mike Baldwin
Feraz Ozel
Patrick Melton
Bubba Bradley
Tom Van Horn
Ed Hill
Marcus Ryan
Phil Johnson
Chris Valenti
Mike Kennedy

Debbie Praver
Patrick Jaye
Ben Hague
Jamie Ward
Brian Beaudoin
Adam Gropman
Mike Bobbitt
Retha Jones
Andrew Sleighter
Bronston Jones
Derrick J. Stroman
Todd Larson
Scott Porteous
Marc Mulvey
Reg

Mike Thompson
David Conolly
Mark Gonzalez
Michael Harrison
Enrique Smooth
Cody Kopp
Will Lopez
Lizette Mizelle
Ray Harrington
Herricane
John Conroy
Jonna Jarnagin
Jason Harris
Justin McClure
Carly McMenoman

Vic Alejandro
Andy Forrester
Tom E. Morello
Chris Clarke
Jonathan Pfendler
Ryan Dalton
Mike Haun

Brad Tassell
Alien Warrior Comedian
Kabir Singh
Leah Mansfield
Byron Bertram
Tom Sharpe
Ace Guillen

Ralphie Roberts
Steve Scholtz
John Moses
Dave Williamson
Nicholas Anthony
Eric Grady
Saleem

Sean Grant
Nate Weatherup
Marc Takemiya
Jason Dudey
Leif Cedar
Short Bus
Alli Breen

Marcus Harvey
Lars Callieou
Erik Allen
Mia Jackson
Tom Sims
Chris Maddock
Corey Manning

John Little
Joe Fernandez
Sam Norton
Landry
Jason Love
Chris Hegedus
Torian Hughes

Curt Fletcher
Matt Markman
Bethany Therese
Eric Shantz
Denise Ramsden
Zoltan
Kevin Patterson

Franklin Marshall III
Clayton Fletcher
Viet Huynh
Sean Kent
Brandon Vestal
Austin Anderson
Andy Erikson

Of course, there’s a lot of hope, because, at the heart of this whole six-day affair, was a contest. And, at the end of that was a winner. One winner. Which means there were 100… uh… “non-winners,” to put it charitably. So, of course, by necessity, there was a lot of dashed hopes. Night number one produced 37 instant “non-winners” in the space of about six hours (see photo of the Wildcard lineup below), as only eight of the 45 wildcard comics survived to perform in the next round.

So, it then becomes a matter of how to deal with that setback in your remaining hours/days in the desert. For some, it’s simple: They fly/drive home the next day and put the whole experience in their rearview mirror. Others hold their head up and dive into the various activities– structured and unstructured, sanctioned and unsanctioned– and make the most of it.

Eric Shantz arrived Monday but wasn’t scheduled to perform until the 7 PM Friday show. He dealt with all that down time by turning his Alexis Park room into a “hospitality suite”– offering beer and a place to commune, commiserate or strategize (depending on your WSOC status at the time). Shantz also cleverly turned the desk in the corner into a “media table” (just like they have at the big-time festivals!) where comics could place a stack of their biz cards or other promo material for others to collect. These parties, we’re told, were lasting until five in the morning. Only occasionally garnering dirty looks from other hotel guests and sporadic visits from hotel security.

We heard tales of bad behavior. We shall refrain from identifying those who engaged in said behavior to spare them any embarrassment… although, after hearing the stories, we doubt they are capable of such feelings as embarrassment or shame. We must point out that, if, out of maybe 200 or more comics, bookers and assorted others in attendance over six days, it’s possible to count the number of incidents or bad actors using only one hand, then this pack of folks did pretty well.

The overall mood was festive. Admittedly, we missed a giant, gaping chunk at the heart of it because of circumstances beyond our control. But, judging by the feedback we got, nearly everyone was satisfied with their experience. Very little disgruntlement, from what we could tell. (And, believe us when we tell you: If anyone attending a conflagration like this one feels hurt or left out or boned– they let EVERYONE know. Negative word travels fast, borne on a river of alcohol and bile. And happy participants constantly check their own mood and temperament to make sure they they, too, are actually happy and not merely doing a good job of convincing themselves that they are. There will always be minor complaints. But organizers– good organizers– always go out of their way to put out any fires, nip any discontent in the bud, quell any minor hassles before they become major headaches. Especially if the complaining is offered in a constructive manner.

Photo credit: Joe Eberle

We eventually conducted our seminar. Perhaps “seminar” is too weighty of a word. It was more like a “chat.” A chat with the authors of “The Comedy Bible: The Complete Resource for Aspiring Comedians.” We originally planned a dash or two of multi-media and a more structured presentation. That all fell apart, though. We rallied, however, and delivered an hourlong melange of confession, griping, advice, Q & A and encouragement, with more than a few hearty laughs. (In fact, a startling number of laughs for 11 AM!) Feedback was wildly positive and the Halves gladly stuck around afterward for the inevitable 45-minute “spillover”– those one-on-one or two- or three-on-one mini-seminars that continue long after the stage lights go out. One attendee said, and we paraphrase, “I learned a lot, but I’m not sure what I learned.” High praise, indeed! We wanted to avoid any pedantry. We sought to entertain, enlighten and provide some perspective for the folks who were, in some cases, traveling one or two thousand miles to upgrade their status in– or at least change their relationship to– the comedy business.  Oh… and plug our book.

Our book comes out in six days.  Our copy, our only copy… and, for all we know, the only copy in existence… was pawed by a good percentage of the attendees. Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that we were carrying it with us at all times and we were thrusting into the hands of anyone who faced in our direction. (Not unlike a proud parent who “dazzles” unsuspecting airplane aisle-mates with baby pictures.) Feedback on the book is wildly positive. And we got a lot of inquiries about an autographed copy. We are pondering this and we will announce shortly just how that might come about and how much it might cost. Stay tuned.

Will there be another? Hope so. There’s a “See you next year!” message on the WSOC Facebook page. It takes a mountain of effort to plan an event like the WSOC. And because we moved here in February and hung out a lot (performing and otherwise) at Joe Lowers’ club, we had a front-row seat for a lot of that preparation and planning. It gave us plenty of insight into just how much detail Lowers (and wife Jenny) need to pay attention to. And how many things can go wrong. And how much nerve it takes to convince yourself and others that it’s possible. We imagine that, last night at about 2 AM, it seemed worth all the sweat and the tears. This morning, however, with about 358 days until a possible “next one,” there’s probably some nagging doubt. Of course, tomorrow, with 357 days to go, any doubt will probably vanish. Stay tuned.