– by Benny Bosh
One of our favorite comedy clubs has just closed its doors. Here’s a eulogy by the man that started it all, Benny Boshnack
Okay. Sorry, that was from Goodfellas.
I haven’t read everybody’s Eulogy. I read Shawn’s, and a lot of it was about me, so naturally I gushed and loved it. I read Christa’s. I have a feeling a lot of these things have a similar feel to them so I’m gonna try to make this stand out and unique and tell you THE TRUTH GODDAMMIT, THE TRUTH!
I started Grandma’s Basement back in the fall of 2008, THE TYRELL CORPORATION advanced Robot evolution into the NEXUS phase – a being virtually identical to a human – known as a Comedian…
but I keep thinking of all the things I don’t want to do while writing it. I don’t want it to sound sappy. I don’t want metaphors(I think they’re metaphors), I don’t want to romanticize.
To us those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks and took the subway to work and worried about bills, were dead.
They were suckers, they had no balls…sorry. Anyways, it’s true. Gary and Tom may’ve worked hard, but I never once felt like I did. We would book shows last minute, I’m sure over half the shows had little to no audience, we were all put in there to skim the joint dry….that’s Casino, the count room. We never stole anything…honestly. And honestly, yeah, the room saw success not because of hard work, enough people just caught on after a while. We basically said, awright, we’re gonna have these shows here Wednesday through Sunday, and if people wanna show up that’s fine. Ya know, that’s how I felt about it. Seriously. Again, that’s not necessarily how Tom and Gary feel. In fact, I’m sure they feel the opposite way. But for me, it really was about being around friends.
Fuck your fuckin’ comedy theories, and your fuckin’ bookers and this idea that you’re doing something wrong when it’s so evident there’s joy in what you’re doing. I had friends.
Friends.That’s what really matters. Not a room. It was a great room. An amazing little place, but how often did you go outside? I used to live just to step outside of those shows. I couldn’t stand listening to comedy more than half the time. But I’d go outside, and see 6 or 7 friends, one of them always had a cigarette for me, and if we weren’t making each other laugh outside, we were holding each other up, telling each other we were gonna make it through this life. Honestly, there was a lot of people telling me that. Because I don’t know how you’re supposed to make it through this life. It’s a fuckin’ mess. Friends. I’m pretty sure that’s the answer. I guess we need somewhere to congregate, and Grandma’s Basement became that place.
I know where this road leads, success isn’t really success it’s just a step closer to Michael Richardsing it someday when your back’s against the wall. But I try to swear off comedy, and I can’t do it.
Grandma’s Basement epitomized that line, maybe no more than any other bar or club, but who cares. It was ours. It was a race war every night. And it was all love.
You can list accomplishments for ages, but you gotta have friends to share them with.
Friends come in all forms and they accept you in all forms and we have a long life ahead of us. I hope and pray I never lose ANY of you as friends. But I don’t mind losing a building that we once hung out. It is a wonderful life. Try to always remember that. I love you so much and miss you all. Thank you for being part of Grandma’s Basement but more importantly thank you for being part of my life. I realize this turned into something else but I haven’t spoken to any of you in a while, so, whatever.