Point Tommy

This guy's good under pressure.

At last weekend's gig (the fantabulous T-Street by the way!!!), I was prancing/standing around in a series of disconnected, slovenly, desperate costumes not particularly concerned with how anything I wore or did could be tied in with what everyone else was doing. Tommy and Guido actually looked like baseball players, and Josh did his classic Harry Caray stuff, and Jesse was born to be a blind umpire, but I figured "what the heck, they've got it covered, I can just kind of wander here and there stinkin up the place."

I was a black mouse convinced it was really a Cubbie mascot. I was a hot dog on sleeping pills, sticking my arms in and out of the armholes like that's what hot dogs do at a baseball game. I was Madonna in baseball lingerie that looks nothing like the League of Their Own uniforms (a 90s movie, in fact.) We're not going to talk about Michael Jackson Little League Coach anymore. Perhaps I crossed some line as a gigantic rabbit (The Astros, people!!!) eating the inflatable banana over and over again. Well, Tommy's no fool, and he understands the importance of a coherent story line, so he whipped up a really good one right when I was most orbital.

"Hey, it's the Brat Pack's mascot, The Big Hair!"

Get it? Comedy gold, that.