Before I head off to South Africa, I’m squeezing in a week of shows in Northern California. Which is kind of the opposite of South Africa, I guess.

Here’s where I’ll be:

• January 24, Danville, CA – Wild Vine Hideaway (8 pm)
• January 25, Gilroy, CA – 9 Lives Club (7:30 pm)
• January 26, Morgan Hill, CA – The Playhouse (7:30 pm)
• January 27, Monterey, CA – Planet Gemini (9:15 pm)
• January 28, Monterey, CA – Planet Gemini (9:15 pm)

Bring some friends out and let’s have a good time!

I am all for civil rights and equality. But chances are you’re getting enough of that talk today. So here’s a little non-preachy, but still MLK-related, tale on his day.

After a show the other week, an audience member came up to talk after the show. Seemed like a nice enough guy, if a bit redneckesque. As we were speaking, his friends were egging him on, “Hey, tell him who you’re related to!” Upon further prodding, the guy doesn’t produce the information, so his buddy chimes in, “His uncle is James Earl Jones!”

Forgive me for being so morbid. Most people do vanity Googling, but I enjoy dysfunctional vanity Googling. You can call it DVG, for short. I will combine my name and an additional search parameter of a grisly nature. Paul+Ogata+tumor is a good one; I totally forgot about that homeless guy and his $20. Yesterday, I Googled Paul+Ogata+obituary only to find out that yes, a guy named Paul Ogata in Los Angeles just died a week ago. On the plus side, I made the LA Times! Sort of.

Anyway, on the death tip, just this morning I found out (not through any DVG) that a New Jersey politician died last night right in the statehouse restroom after hours of whatever it is politicians do. I guess as far as bad things happening to you on the job, that’s right up at the top of the list for any profession.

It made me think of the bad things that can happen to a comedian on the job. Sure, there’s the dying on stage. Either literally or figuratively. But outside of that, then what? Well, this: