The One Man Show

​Seems like everyone now a has a one man show. Hell, back in the very early eighties I had one. It was appropriately titled, Casually Insane and I still have my clippings if you’re interested. But I bet you didn’t know that at the twilight of his career, Roderick George Toombs, aka Rowdy Roddy Piper, wanted to try his hand at one. See? I thought not.
 
Well, sit back and relax, because if you are a wrestling fan, a J.P. Linde fan or a follower of self-promoting, self-indulging, narcissistic stories starring down and out wrestlers and comedian/writers, this may very well be the story for you.
 
Unlike many of you, I watched WWF wrestling rarely.  To say that I was fully aware of the entire colorful cast of characters that somehow managed to bring down an entire civilization would be an exaggeration. But, thanks to a Cindy Lauper, I was aware of some of the key players and Rowdy Roddy Piper happened to be one of them. 
 
So, when I got the call, along with Art Krug, co-writer and creator of our two man show Dumped and Divorced, that Roddy was looking for collaborators, I jumped at the chance. Nothing makes for a quicker fan than a potential job and paycheck. There would be five of us at the creative summit including myself, Art, Barry Kolin, the producer, and the man himself, the star of They Live, Rowdy Roddy Piper.
 
Roddy showed up fashionably late, with a drink in his hand, a chemically enhanced gleam in his eye and a perpetual sniffle in his nose. He looked a bit tired and haggard but enthusiastically pitched his idea. He immediately regaled us with colorful stories and anecdotes from his past. He handed us each a copy of his autobiography for research and documentation and so we were hooked.
 
The goal was to book the show in comedy clubs, testing the material out and then opening it up to larger venues. We would all be rich, Roddy told us, this was a going to be a surefire hit.
 
I had not yet officially retired from comedy and here is where the rubber hit the road. For the time being Art and I would not be paid for our writing services but would open up for the famed wrestler warming up the audience for a fee. I was to be last comedian on stage, introducing Roddy to the crowd. 
 
And now, here is the reason that Art and I never wrote a one man show for Roddy Piper. Roderick turned to me and with a coca enhanced grin, announced that after I brought him up on stage, he would lift me high over his head and throw me into the tables at least four feet below. “Don’t worry,” he concluded. “I will teach you how to land.”
 
Being thrown off a stage that is five feet off the ground is one thing, not being paid is quite another. Being much bigger than us, and cruising on god knows what combination of chemicals exactly, Art and I gracefully excused ourselves and later, when we were quite sure that Roddy did not know where we lived, declined the offer.
 
Someone else ended up taking on this prestigious job, but tryouts at the comedy club did not go well as Roddy was incapable of holding his train of thought for more than a few minutes. Sad, really.
 
The world of professional wrestling is a relatively short-lived career. A good portion of wrestlers crash and burn after being exploited by a system that seems to deal in tragedy. Some stories are even sadder than that of Roderick George Toombs. Before Toombs died, he got the chance on HBO Real Sports to finally tell his story, the real story; to talk about his life, his sport, the high price he paid and even predicting his own death. If only he had been well enough to share his real story with myself and Art. That would have been a one man show worth talking about.
 
“For over a thousand years Roman conquerors returning from the wars enjoyed the honor of triumph, a tumultuous parade. In the procession came trumpeters, musicians and strange animals from conquered territories, together with carts laden with treasure and captured armaments. The conqueror rode in a triumphal chariot, the dazed prisoners walking in chains before him. Sometimes his children robed in white stood with him in the chariot or rode the trace horses. A slave stood behind the conqueror holding a golden crown, and whispering in his ear a warning: that all glory is fleeting.”