Local Government

I always thought Ann Perkins was the worst character on Parks and Rec. She was unlucky-in-love, vanilla, and she left the show before it ended. But, in a way, the premise of the show was built around her. It just so happens that one day she decides to go to the city to complain about something, and thus was brought into the world of local government where the world of the show revolves around, which gains her friends and family and a renewed vigor that with hard work, things can improve. I had the opposite experience.

2019

I was avoiding work and scrolling around on my phone. I came across a video of a carriage horse that collapsed in the middle of a street due to exhaustion. It was one of the saddest videos I have ever seen and it brought me right back to the childhood trauma we all experienced watching Artax sink into the ground in The Never Ending Story. God damn, that was the worst. So was this.

I flashed back to a trip to Memphis I took with my friends a few years earlier when we saw a startled carriage horse run THROUGH THE WINDSHEILD of a CAR. In the MIDDLE OF TRAFFIC. It was still stuck in it when our uber pulled away. I was horrified.

I dug deeper into videos, petitions, advocacy groups and other resources. While carrying a carriage is not horse torture, standing long hours in terrible conditions, being hit by cars, lack of shade and water and being worked to the point of exhaustion is. Why the hell are we still doing carriage rides in cities? We have scooters, Ubers, buses, a street car, we have fucking boat tours where they give you a duck whistle, we have drunken peddle wagons. All these things are already in the streets ready to show you all your city has to offer. Why are we exploiting these animals for our entertainment? Ride them in the country on a shady trail and grass.

Within the hour, I had seen monstrous photos of how these horses are kept. Instead of proper shoe care, they spray distracting glitter on their hooves. Instead of room to roam, they are kept in a small city backyard full of mud.

Having turned from sad to angry, I looked up my local city council meeting and it happened to be that very day. So, I cut out work early (not like I was actually getting anything done) and showed up. They open the meeting with public comment, giving each speaker 2 minutes to address the council members. The first two speakers… how do I say this… didn’t really say anything? They had some concerns, I think, but they weren’t specific. They were mainly just shitting on the city and the council but not offering any solutions. Without moving their eyes, the council was rolling them with their body language. I didn’t know what I would say, but when it came to be my turn, I almost cried. I talked about how this industry was failing the horses. I gave statistics and cried my sources. I indicated that it was my first ever meeting, so I asked what could be done?

When I was finished talking and gained consciousness again, one of the council members answered me. He said that this was an issue he also felt strongly about and that we should meet to see what could be done. I left happy and hopeful.

Over the next week, I emailed my availability to meet. It was ignored. I called and wrote more emails. I was told one of the best things I could do was to get support for this, so 30+ of my friends emailed city council and detailed why the carriage horses should be banned from city streets. The emails still were not returned. A month later, the council member who was in support asked for my availability again. I emailed it, and never heard back. So I got pissed off and shot the whole city council an email, basically calling them out. In simple terms, I said:

This is why people don’t believe in the abilities of our local government and do not even try to get involved. Disappointed you can’t even reply to an email.

Most of their offices did respond to this one. They said they will read the rest and get back to me. Months went by, and there were several local city council scandals. PJ Sittenfeld was indicted on charges of honest services wire fraud, bribery and extortion. Other council members were on some sort of non compliant group chat, talking shit about the other members. I get it, they had a lot of stuff going on, and by that I mean they were busy being corrupt. And I know carriage horses are not a priority in terms of all the stuff going on with a city. I know that! It all just reminded me of the mayor from Nightmare Before Christmas. He has two faces, and the one pointed to you is a smile saying, “I care about you and this city.” And the other face is some other bullshit.

2021

I get a DM last week saying that there would be a special committee meeting held that day, and that the original helpful council member would be putting the horse carriage ban vote on the table at the meeting the next day. So upon their request, I came and spoke again. I represented the average concerned citizen in the city and I even had 30-40 people write emails again in support of the ban.

They also had a law professor who specialized in animal cruelty cases and a person who represented local downtown businesses who both spoke in support of the ban. They mentioned the damage the carriage horse industry was doing to the local business, the city infrastructure, and the health of the horses.

The council member had also gone as far as reach out to rescue organization who ensured these animals would not be killed and that they would take care of them. It was all coming together beautifully.

That night they announced the vote and were flooded with support from the community. People were commenting “finally” and “about time” on the instagram account of the news outlet.

The next day, I zoomed into the meeting to watch the vote.

The vote did not pass. 4 people were in favor of the ban, 5 were not.

I’ll see you all in January when there is a new council and a re-vote. Im not an Ann Perkins. I’m a Leslie Knope.

Invisible Charm Bracelets

I love birthday dinners. I love the ritual of getting dressed up, picking out a cute gift and a card, and knowing I will probably get to have cake at the end of the night. But I think the thing I like most about these gatherings is that inevitably I will get to meet the one special friend who I’ve heard so much about. Recently, the dinner was for Shelby and that friend was Katie.
Katie and I started our conversation talking about jumpsuits and Alanis Morsette. Within the hour, we passed through the topics of astrology, religion, tattoos, past jobs and past lives, and we had moved deep into a conversation about friendship breakups. I ordered another drink and prepared to commiserate with her. I love my girlfriends with a ferocity that I sometimes don’t understand. I even have several jokes in my act about how I would take a bullet for them, how I raise them up and how codependent I can be. So when a friendship ends, it’s often heartbreaking to me. Katie said it’s worse than a romantic breakup, and I agreed.
Most of my friendship breakups had been a slow burn. The friend and I would find ourselves in different points in our lives and slowly stopped making effort to prioritize the relationship. And that was okay. We would love each other from a distance and still cheer for one another’s success. I had very few fights that lead to a friendship breakup. But in the end, those breakups were okay too. We could both move on knowing where the other one stood.
The worst breakups I had were my girlfriends who would act like they were fine, like nothing was wrong at all, but were purposely removing themselves from my life. Much like the way you sneak out of a party without saying goodbye to the host, they knew that they were leaving, but they didn’t want me to know that they were leaving. I would see them with their coat on standing by the door and they would insist they weren’t going anywhere— they were just cold and wanted to warm up by the door. It’s fine. We are fine.
Katie and I agreed this was the shittiest feeling, because we were left not knowing what we had done to make them want to go. I remember even asking these friends, what did I do? Why are you mad? What can I do to make this better again? But they gave me nothing. They became a ghost. There was no closure.
For the longest time I held such bitterness about this. I ruminated and fixated on how people could leave me. Talking about it with Katie, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. This birthday was an open casket.
We turned our attention to Shelby and decided for her birthday, we would tell her all the things we loved about her. I was relieved when Katie went first, because when it came my time all I could do was cry. I had to tell my friend what she meant to me, because she meant so much, but all I could summon up from my diaphragm were some blubbering murmurs between sobs. Now that I’ve had more time to think about it, here is what I want to say about my friendships:

When I die, I will be wearing an invisible charm bracelet. It will be an angelic single strand of spun gold with shiny enamel gloss charms. Each charm will be a talisman that would represent a friend I’ve held space for in my heart. A hummingbird. A hat. A duck. A soccer ball. A panda. And then there will be the other ones. A book. A plate of pasta. An airplane. A paintbrush. I have to include those too. I honor what you brought into my life, the friendship we had, and how it shaped my life into what it was. Even if it ended, even if we don’t talk, you are on my invisible charm bracelet and I carry you with me.

Bits

One of the hardest things about writing is deciding what you want to write about. It’s ironic that I was having such a hard time deciding on a topic and then she suggested I write about how hard it is to write.

Outside of the one-liners you see on the sides of Laffy Taffy, writing a joke usually take a long time. First, you have to have some sort of trauma. Without the trauma, you don’t develop the need to spread joy through joke writing, or deflection, or whatever it is you call being funny. That usually takes years to recognize and develop. But it’s a pretty big step. For the sake of time, let’s say you have that.


Joke writing typically starts with a single thought. It can be something observational about yourself like, “why do I give myself a bedtime” or “does anyone else run up the stairs after they turn the lights off?” or it can be something observational about others, like, “you never see anyone with an office job that also owns beaded curtains”. These things aren’t funny yet, just examples. Alternatively, you can also completely make something up that you didn’t observe at all. For example, “I was at the park and someone in a car asked me if I wanted to buy a hotdog.” This is what we call a premise. What would I do if an unlicensed vendor, perhaps just a random stranger who had a cooked hotdog in their car, asked me if I wanted to buy one?

With all of these ideas/thoughts, my next step would be to find different wants to approach my point. I would want to explore what is both relatable and absurd about the idea.
Absurd: compare it to an ice cream truck or a food cart and describe the differences.
Absurd: describe what a street drug called “hot dog” would look like and what it would do to you.

After you get your premise, you will create short jokes about the premise. These are called, “lines”. You put a lot of lines together to create a “bit”. If your bits flow together and intermingle, you call this a “chunk”. A comedy set is made up of a lot of bits, or a few chunks if you’re doing a lot of comedy.

The last step of writing a joke is telling it to other people to get a reaction. The favorable reaction would be a laugh. If you’re a man, a gasp sometimes is okay, because you are allowed the opportunity to expand. If the joke doesn’t work right away, the best comedians will give it a few times and try to rework it until it does. The worst comedians will yell at the audience for not laughing.

Being a comedian does require a lot of work, but, if you work really, really, REALLY hard, it usually never pays off and your legacy will be that “hotdog in the park” joke that haunts you forever.

Backyard Comedy!

September 24th at 7pm

The cicadas are dead. It’s time to resurrect backyard comedy. This month we bring you comedy central’s Geoff Tate, local legend Phil Pointer, the graveyard darling Kelly Collette and many more.

To reserve a ticket, Venmo $13 (whoa! Spooky number) to @KellyCollette and include your email address. You’ll get an email a day prior to the show with the location. Please do not murder me.

BYOB and a chair! Chairs will be provided first come first serve.

Tickets capped at 30 people. In the event of rain, all tickets will be refunded.

My Name

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Kelly is a very preppy name in the United States. While I don’t feel like a preppy person, I think my name projects a certain assumption onto me when people first meet me. I guess you only take the associations you know about a name already and can’t help but I wonder if all Oprah’s are the same.
When I think about famous pop culture Kelly’s, I think Kelly Kapowski, Kelly Bundy and Kelly Kapoor. All of these Kelly’s are very surface level characters that use their sexuality and charm to get by. I don’t know if they made Kapowski smart, but they made Bundy dumb and they made Kapoor shallow. When googling other famous Kelly’s I got “Kelly Blue Book” and decided just to stop.

Outside of the US, the name is most popular in Ireland. The meaning of Kelly is "brave warrior".It is also of English origin, where its meaning is "bright headed". 

I don’t have the wrong name— I’m just in the wrong place for it. From now on if people assume I’m ditzy because of my name, I will assure them “I’m not I’m bright headed!” which will 100% make them feel like they made the right call.

Enlightenment

My Yogi Tea bag comes with this message on the end of it: Appreciate yourself and honor your soul.

I take the bag of Stress Relief tea and place it in a mug of hot water, and I carry it to my desk to begin the process of writing. Appreciate yourself and honor your soul, the visible string reminds me. Moments before my tea break, I had just rearranged all of my furniture in a manic state of self care, and I had done thirty minutes of yoga on FaceTime with a friend. We talked our way through Shivasana. Now tea, right?Will that allow me to disconnect? Time to appreciate myself. Let the bag’s advice be your guide.

I light a candle that I bought from a metaphysical store. It’s called Full Moon and has notes of Palo Santo. The candle is filled with tiny amethyst crystals. I enjoy the smell and sound of the crackling wick. My fingers find my keyboard. Damn. I should clean off my desk. There is some sort of smudge on its clear glass top. What is that? Just a fingerprint, maybe. Where is that organic basil scented surface cleaner I just bought?

I go in search of the Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day Multi-Surface Everyday Cleaner with-aromatherapeutic-properties-to-create-a-clean-and-happy-home so that I can just clean this one spot of my desk and finally be able to sit down and honor myself god damnit. I find the spray in my bathroom, which is littered with gym clothes. That reminds me to pile all of my clothes into a neat corner. But-I might as well carry it downstairs to the laundry room while I am thinking about it, right? It’s right here, I can do it real quick before I relax and find inner harmony or whatever. Before I begin the load, I check the washer for the phone that is in my back pocket that I am convinced is somehow in the washing machine. I riffle though longer than I should until I finally spank my own ass, find my phone, and walk upstairs to honor myself.

Back in my office I find that my tea mug has been flipped over by a ghost. There is no other explaination for it to be on the ground and forming a puddle. The irony of a mug with a “third eye” painted on it and it being knocked over is not lost on me. I can also clean this with the spray…….. which I just realize I never brought upstairs. Bloody hell, you dumb…. no. No. No. No. Appreciate yourself and honor your soul. Blame things on ghosts.

I go fetch another mug of hot water and open an new Yogi Tea Stress Relief tea bag. I read the new quote like its a fortune cookie. Grace is kindness, compassion and caring. On my way up the stairs, I grab the cleaning spray. The laundry will be forgotten about and never will be heard from again.

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Living My Fest Life is back

Living My Fest Life podcast discovers and uncovers festivals, fairs, events and experiences. Some you may know, others you’ve never even heard of.

The most recent episodes cover: UFO Festival is Rosewell, NM, Kissing Festival in Bali, The Rattlesnake Roundup of Sweetwater, Texas, and the world renown Comic-Con.

Now that festivals are coming back, please subscribe to Living My Fest Life on Apple, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts!

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Enquirer Article


This pandemic has been no laughing matter for local comedians

Maria AguilarCincinnati Enquirer


Cincinnati native Kelly Collette made the jump into becoming a full-time comedian in January 2020, over a decade after doing it as a side hustle. Three months later, COVID-19 struck and comedy venues across the country closed their doors. And just like that, Collette’s once fully booked calendar was completely clear. 

The clubs that were once bustling hubs of humor and human interaction suddenly became possible superspreaders. So Collette and her peers, alongside seemingly the rest of the world, transitioned into the virtual world.

After March 2020, Collette participated in a number of virtual open mics, trivia nights and comedy shows. The unconventional way of bringing entertainment to audiences added an extra dimension to her list of possible jokes.

“It was great 'cause if you got stuck on something that wasn’t working, you would look into someone’s room and you just kind of can do some crowd work right there in front of them about the house or what’s going on in the background,” Collette said. 

But not all of Collette’s online gigs were fun and games. More than once, she was hired by corporations to perform in front of crowds of indifferent businesspeople. While the shows came with a nice paycheck, the experience was far from rewarding.

“Those people were basically just working … and just looking up from their computer every now and then to make eye contact, not really giving any laughter or feedback, so those were rough,” Collette said. 

Cincy-based comedian Andrew Rudick would also come to discover the shortcomings of the Zoom comedy scene. Rudick initially considered virtual shows the logical alternative but found the atmosphere of a live crowd impossible to recreate in an online setting. Muted mics left him with no way to gauge the audience’s reaction to his sets. 

“You really need the laughter, so no matter how you’re doing, it feels like you’re doing terribly because everybody by instinct turns off their microphone,” Rudick said. 

Making it work

Gabe Kea moved from St. Louis to Cincinnati 11 years ago for the city's well-known comedy scene. When the pandemic hit, Kea set up a brick wall backdrop in his garage (the classic stand-up background) and did Zoom shows and Instagram livestreams from there. 

One of the things he is most grateful for is his steady part-time job at a local restaurant at a time when most bars, clubs and venues closed.

“Having a job saved me big-time during the pandemic,” Kea said. “It’s the truth, the instability of the comedy business, that’s one of the behind-the-scenes things. No one’s posting about how they can’t pay their bills from comedy, everybody posts on social media when they can.” 

Warmer weather brings with it the chance to safely connect with others outdoors, and Kea returned to in-person comedy with a bang. He opened for Dave Chappelle at an intimate, socially distanced outdoor show in Yellow Springs last June. 

“I hadn’t performed in three, four months, and now I’m performing in front of one of the best comedians in the country,” Kea said. “That was the most nervous I’ve been before a show.” 

Collette also took advantage of the summer sunshine and created the Backyard Comedy Series. 

“A lot of people were uncomfortable going indoors and I of course wanted to keep the shows going but do something that was much safer, so I started doing shows in my backyard,” Collette said. “It got pretty popular, people really liked them.”

Collette put together a full comedy lineup (with an opening act, a feature and a headliner), sold $12 tickets and limited attendance to 25 people. Guests were required to wear masks and could bring their own blankets, lawn chairs and booze. The shows were such a success, they came back for the 2021 spring-summer season.

What's next?

As the COVID-19 vaccine rollout continues and pandemic-related guidelines are lifted, local comedians are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Rudick has gone from performing every night pre-pandemic, to every other weekend at the start of lockdown, to finally seeing a busier schedule in the past few weeks. 

Comedians are once again hitting the road to perform in cities across the country. Through the months of March and April, Kea booked shows in Oklahoma City, Indianapolis, Dayton, Cincinnati and El Paso, Texas. 

This is going to be like the roaring '20s or something! Everybody’s looking to book now that it’s opening back up,” Kea said. 

All three comedians agree on this: the live entertainment industry is likely to see a boom in business in the coming months. 

“I feel like we were locked up for some time, that now everybody’s like 'just get me out of the house, let’s do something!' " Collette said. 

“I honestly think it’s going to be better than ever … there’s a certain enthusiasm that wasn’t there before,” Rudick said. 

During trying times, a comedy show can be the perfect pick-me-up. Now that we are finally starting to head back outside, make the time to support your local comedians – buy a ticket, go to a show and laugh until you cry. 


Painting

When I was in second grade my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her I wanted to be an artist. I didn’t specify what kind of art I wanted to create, but I told her I wanted to wear a beret and I wanted to travel to France. Using context clues and stereotyping, she figured I meant I wanted to be a painter.

There are other childhood memories I have about art. I asked for an art set every year for Christmas. Once when I got a booster shot in kindergarten, I cried so hard I scared my mom into a panic. She told me if I stopped crying I could have anything I wanted. Anything. I told her I just wanted a coloring book. Looking back, I should have went with one million dollars or a pony, whichever she could find before dinner.

I would dabble in painting in high school and I took one art appreciation class in college, but I never considered myself talented. I just knew I enjoyed it. I felt like real talent was reserved for people who could paint ships and horses. When I graduated college, I focused on standup and writing. But having been stuck in 2020 and the hell that it was, I needed to do something else. I bought some brushes, some canvas, some paint. I didn’t have a vision or goal, I just had some emotions. All of the paintings started out blotchy and blobby and not making sense, but I allowed them to dry and layer by layer they turned into pieces I was proud of. I had comedians joke they could tell I was “going through some shit” as I posted each layer. I can laugh at that, because half the time I was looking at them and thinking, I don’t know what I’m doing. These look terrible. I don’t know what I am doing. But I sat with them. I sat with myself. I would literally just sit in the room with them, not doing anything. And in doing that, I started to do something I haven’t done in a long time. I trusted my intuition. The pieces changed. I started to love them.

I am writing this for myself to reflect on when I need it. Some things are messy in the moment and all you can see is how they do not make sense. Sit with it. Sit with yourself. Trust your ability to change them into something you are proud of. All it takes is time and courage.

Anyway…

check out my art here. Drop me a line under “contact” if you’d like me to do a piece for you.

Backyard Comedy Series is back for 2021!

Introducing the backyard comedy show! In times of Covid-19, a creative and safe alternative to a club.

When:
May 1st at 7pm!

Guidelines: Tickets are limited to 30 people. Masks are mandatory and to be worn in the backyard when walking around. BYOB alcohol but drinks and snacks will be available. Bathroom is limited to emergencies only please!

Comics: to be announced !

tickets: Venmo $12 to @KellyCollette with “backyard comedy/MAY” and YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS please.

The day before the show you will get the address to the event. We have some chairs available, as well as blankets, but bring whatever you want. Except your kids please. In the event of rain we will be giving refunds. Thank you for supporting live comedy and wearing your masks!

My new article in Bust Magazine

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You’re a cheetah, did you know that?” someone said to me. “You have to read Untamed by Glennon Doyle.”

Released almost a year ago in March 2020, I had seen the vibrant book cover toted around by many women at airports, at brunches, and on Instagram; I saw Elizabeth Gilbert’s stamp of approval on the back. But it took me almost a full year to read the book that has sold over 1 million copies and was #1 on the New York Timesbest-seller list. Now that I have read it, I can see what the all the hype was about. However, I have some mixed feelings.

Like many women, I was sucked in by Doyle’s raw vulnerability and beautiful writing. I relished being compared to a cheetah. I was awakened to my sabotaging people-pleasing. I had several aha moments reading about how woman often will “crowdsource” opinions instead of listening to themselves, or what Glennon calls their own “knowing.” I do that, too! I do all of these things! Why don’t I trust my own opinions? I’m glad I trust someone else to tell me what I should trust.

Throughout the book, Glennon unpacks her journey of falling in love with Abby Wambach on her book tour while promoting Love Warrior, a memoir about choosing love and redemption after her husband’s infidelity. I am happy for her, in many ways, mainly because she is living in her truth and her knowing. However, it’s this part of the story that got me thinking. 

Every experience we have gives us the opportunity to reflect and say, “It was right for the moment, but isn’t right for the future.” Doyle wrote a book about choosing to work on her marriage and how she picked herself up to come together again, and now, I’m reading a book about her journey away from that choice. Which leads me to the biggest takeaway of the book: Even the author, who offers over 300 pages of perfect advice, doesn’t always have all of the answers.

I listened to Glennon Doyle teach me not to listen to her—not to listen to anyone, for that matter. While self-help books and memoirs are very helpful, only I can tap into myself and actually know what path is best for me in my own life. The book was a double-headed snake of the obvious “here is some great advice” and the less obvious “Iook at the times when I was wrong.” It’s the first time a book both told me and showed me an important lesson: do you.