AUDUBON, NJ– We’re back in the office after a typically gruelling drive down I-87. We departed crazy early in order to avoid the jam-up at the border crossing. Didn’t work. We still had a 90-minute wait. Shoulda gone through Vermont.

Also found out that Canada doesn’t refund the GST any more. (Or the Harmonized Sales Tax, for that matter, but that doesn’t apply here.) We looked forward to hitting the Duty Free store and getting back the tax on our lodging, then blowing it on a huge bottle of Bombay Sapphire… or maybe some Knob Creek or something similar. Then we saw the sign:

As of April 1, 2007, non-resident consumers who purchase goods in Canada and remove them from the country cannot receive a VRP rebate for the GST/HST they paid on goods if the tax became payable after March 31, 2007.

Total bummer, eh? According to the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Finance, “the visitor rebate program was taken up by only 3% of visitors.” Others dispute this. What isn’t disputed is that the revocation of the rebate will probably hurt the $60 billion Canadian tourism biz.

That and the fact that the exchange rate is good for Canadians but not advantageous for us Americans. It’s the lowest we can ever recall in our two decades of heading north. We seem to recall $1.32 on our first trip to Montreal to play the Nest in the late 80s. This past weekend, it was $1.05. Which means that when we forked over eight bucks CD for a Blue, we were pretty much paying eight bucks US for a Blue!

The Male Half with Mike DeStefano (Wise Guys) Photo credit: Todd Jackson

The sun made an appearance on Saturday. Thursday and Friday were wet and miserable, but Saturday was one of those days that enable Montrealers to push those suicidal thoughts out of their heads when they’re suffering through March. Shocking blue sky, puffy clouds, slight breeze.

We posted our third report early Saturday afternoon, then headed down to the sparsely attended Artist vs. Industry hoop game. The Industry kicked ass, winning by nine points. It was the second win in a row for them. Too bad there wasn’t a larger crowd on hand to witness the spectacle. Perhaps the RBK Ball Hockey Cup game is drawing sporting enthusiasts away from it. This is Canada, after all.

Last Comic Standing’s Ty Barnett (l) and Don Friesen at the Hyatt

We swang through the Delta… er… the Hyatt later on, then decided to wade through the street portion of the Festival, on the Boulevard de Maisonneuve. The streets were packed with families and kids and twins and midgets and those big heads that are popular at Carnevale (this year’s theme was Carnevale). And there were, parked along the boulevard, large floats depicting famous comedians– Charlie Chaplin, Laurel & Hardy, Mr. Bean, Mike Myers and Jacques Tati. We were also half-heartedly searching for the secret Comedy Network party. Nobody seemed to know about it. We heard rumors that they only extended invites to Canadians. We heard it sucked, too. And, no, that is not a case of sour grapes.

The Male Half with Tom Papa at the Hyatt. (Note The Male Half’s glowing Shrek-like ogre ears!)

For the first time since our arrival on Wednesday, we felt that crushing fatigue that comes over nearly all Fest attendees at one time or another (“Festigue,” perhaps?), so we slipped into a light coma at six, resolving to arise in two hours time and decide which show to take in that evening.

We obtained tickets to Family Guy Live. How would they fill 90 to 120 minutes?? What exactly goes on at one of these (Fill in the blank) Live presentations?

We strolled on over to the Place des Arts, the hulking, modern jumble of buildings and sculptures and plaza that occupies a city block or two directly across from the Hyatt. The show was to take place in the Salle de Wilfrid-Pelletier, the largest multi-purpose concert hall in Canada. It seats nearly 3,000 people.

And, as the showtime neared, we approached the building and noticed clumps of two and three and four people walking, darting, around the circular, glass-enclosed mezzanine level of the building– searching. Searching for… the entrance! Here, at street level, we wandered just outside the building, clearly able to observe the folks who had somehow figured out how to gain entrance. We switched directions, we communicated our frustration to the other unfortunates who were equally stumped by the mystery portal that would– some day– enable us to… get inside.

Whichever lunkhead had designed and built this modern marvel in 1963 probably thought he was being clever. However, he neglected to make clear just how us common folk might actually enter the edifice. (The Male Half was “architecturally livid.”) And no one milling about outside seemed to know how to get in, either! We solved the mystery eventually– one must go underground to get in, through a rather dank, unappealing tunnel. Here you have a splendid hall, dedicated to the presentation of the great works, and the poor shmucks who wish to see those great works must march down a futuristic shaft in the ground, like the Morlocks in “Time Machine.”

Montreals comic Asaf Gerchak (l) and Peter J. Radomski (Bubbling With Laughter) at the Hyatt

Eventually, we took our seats inside. It is quite impressive– it is akin to being inside of a large spaceship (with much better acoustics). And, fittingly, the motif seemed Star Wars-y– many of the fixtures seemed to be assembled from the spare parts of Stormtroopers.

By the time we scrambled into our seats in Section Q, series creator Seth MacFarlane was well into the introductions. As each cast member was brought out to thunderous applause, he/she took a director’s chair behind a microphone. What followed was a table read of an episode called “Airport ’07.”

After the table read, some cast members took turns singing songs (to musical accompaniment) in the voices of the characters from the show. Including a duet between Peter Griffin and Lois (Alex Boorstein) called “You Don’t Eat My Pussy,” sung to the tune of “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.” After that, they took questions from the audience.

It is worth noting that this was the 10 PM show. And it also worth noting that earlier in the evening, there was a 7 PM show. And it is worth further noting that the cast was, quite openly and with much fanfare, drinking onstage during the entire performance. Seth Green, who voices Chris, was pulling directly from a large bottle of red wine, from what we could tell. The crowd loved every minute of it. They exploded the first time MacFarlane did Stewie. The fans went ape over most of what MacFarlane did/said. Perhaps their second fave was Mike Henry, who voices Cleveland and the perverted Herbert.

Afterward, the Hyatt was packed, of course. Final night drinking is a tradition for many. On this particular Saturday evening, among the revelers were Lewis Black, Louis CK, Susie Essman, Kathleen Madigan, Jessica Kirson, Greg Fitzsimmons, Bill Burr, Jimmy Carr and many, many more. (And if the abovementioned weren’t there Saturday, we can be forgiven for imagining that they were, as they had been there all week!)

Of the gala hosts, we spotted only Howie Mandel. Once. And that was during the day, for a photo shoot. The other hosts– George Lopez, John Pinette, William Shatner– avoided the throngs. At least while we were in the house.

Buzz? Jo Koy, Joey Kola and Bill Burr. They all either were the recipient of heavy ink in the Gazette or wild word of mouth or both.

Any common themes or threads? We saw four teams. Fancy that. Are comedy teams making a comeback? It is hard to do, and, on a personal level, it’s hard to keep a team together. God’s Pottery, Stuckey & Murray and The Doo Wops use music. Team Submarine do not. We were entertained by all four. (The Male Half had a discussion with Team Submarine on the history of comedy teams while waiting for Thursday night’s installment of the Green Room. He told them that he had read in the excellent book, “No Applause, Just Throw Money,” that quite often comedy teams split apart because the straight man would essentially drink himself to death. Good luck to all of you, gentlemen!)

Other trends or threads? We were assaulted at nearly every turn by presentations that were, in part or in whole, telling us what to do/what not to do, what’s funny/what’s not funny, who’s funny/who’s not. What is that all about? Why all this urgency to beat us (comedians nearly all) over the head with this pedantry? And where, we ask, is the entertainment value? After the last four days, we’re thoroughly convinced that comedians are never less funny than when they’re making fun of other comedians. If you’re going to deconstruct comedy, you had better make it funny… or go the serious route and make it damned interesting. Much of it falls awkwardly between funny and interesting, landing somewhere between petty and pathetic. For the most part, this kind of stuff falls flat.

And, some of those same folks who were crying hack at every turn were quite possibly guilty of it themselves on more than a handful of occasions, at least according to what we saw, and according to what we heard secondhand.

Case in point: How is travelling to another country (in this case, Canada) and making lame “Bush is stupid” jokes any different than going to Cleveland or Phoenix and inserting the name of the local gay bar into an opening joke for a cheap laugh? It’s not, really. It’s Hack 2.0 And, it seems, a startling number of comics did it. To paraphrase Seinfeld– We’re not offended as Americans, we’re offended as comedians. And in every case, the “joke,” such as it was, contained nothing more than the words “Bush” followed by “dumb” (or its equivalent) modified by “fuck” (or its equivalent). To put it another way, there was no artfullness, not even an attempt to be subtle or clever. Even Seth MacFarlane, the creator of one of the more clever and cutting television shows in existence, could only come up with “the president is a flop-eared fuckface.” (And in his own voice.) Not exactly the height of sharp wit. It doesn’t even rise to the level of Will Rogers (and believe us, Rogers was pretty lame– go back and read some of his stuff.) Here’s the really weird part: With the exception of MacFarlane’s hamhanded slam, precious few of the attempts at getting a cheap laugh by bashing Bush got so much as a weak, oftimes uncomfortable, laugh. Perhaps even folks who might be predisposed to laugh at a W gag might be sensing that it’s played out.

Finally: We were thrilled to meet several of our “fans!” By “fans,” we mean regular readers of SHECKYmagazine who seemed to be thrilled to meet us. Indeed, some even seemed, for lack of a better word, “starstruck.” As we always say, there is no need to be intimidated. It’s just us! We do not bite. We are eminently approachable. If you see us at a function, come up and say, Hey!

Tune into the blog of Sean McCarthy (formerly of the Boston Herald, now of the New York Daily News) and tune into Dead Frog by Todd Jackson for other perspectives.